The Journeys of a Different Necromancer Read Free Page B

chamberlain pushed himself back from the ingredients on
his desk, a look of disgust and indignation plain on his
large-jowled face. He opened his mouth to say something, but Thomas
put up a finger.
    “ Be quiet, moron, and I will show you what a necromancer can
do,” Thomas stated between clenched teeth.
    He pulled forth a tooth and placed it on the desk. On top of
this, he placed a pinch of the grave dirt. Thomas started to speak
the words taught him by Xavier. The tooth rocked back and forth
under the dirt and then began to grow. The eyes of the chamberlain
grew wide as the tooth grew arms and legs. It grew to three inches.
Feet and hands grew from the legs and arms. The head formed at two
feet and it continued to grow. At four feet, it kept growing. At
five feet, the chamberlain dove under his desk.
    “ Come out, moron,” Thomas commanded. “Come out,
now!”
    The chamberlain crawled from under his desk and stared at the
five and a half foot skeleton on his desk. “C…C…Can it
move?”
    “ Look at the moron.”
    The skeleton turned its cold, blue-flame gaze to the sweating
man in red.
    * * *
*
    Thomas stood before the gilt, eight-foot, arched double doors
with the still sweating chamberlain to one side and his bone-risen
to his other. As the man next to him tugged here and there at his
tunic and shifted from foot to foot, the young necromancer
remembered another door he once stood at years ago. That door,
weathered and thick, designed to keep the world out, had held
secrets behind it he needed to know. Now he held that knowledge.
Now he stood at a door to a kingdom. Here he would use his
teacher’s power to create an army.
    The heavy doors swung open soundlessly on hidden
counterweights to reveal an audience hall into which he strode with
long strides.
    Five alabaster columns with intricate reliefs of vines lined
either side. They stood five feet from walls covered in
silver-threaded, blue silk.
    The throne of Regis lay at the other end.
    Thomas wished for better clothes.
    “ So, the magician Xavier is dead?” the king asked from the
blue-cushioned throne. A thin but tautly muscled man, he sat with a
gaudy, gold crown atop a mop of jet black, shoulder-length hair.
The temples’ grey wisps seemed to be the only indication of his
age.
    “ Yes,” Thomas replied. “My teacher is dead. He did teach me a
great many things, though, as you can see.”
    King Mathis rose from his throne and adjusted his crown. “May
I approach it?” His right hand went to his sword hilt at his
waist.
    “ Yes,” Thomas said. “It will only do as I command.”
    “ Your Majesty, is it safe?” muttered the
chamberlain.
    “ Shut-up, fool,” ordered the king as he walked down the raised
dais to approach the creature.
    The man reeked of stale alcohol.
    “ I remember the eyes of these in that village were red.” The
king stared into the sockets. “Why are these blue?”
    “ It is a slightly different spell. In order to create those
with red eyes I would need an army of volunteers.”
    “ I could arrange that,” offered the king.
    “ That spell requires a great deal of power.” Thomas looked at
his creature. “My master had those ingredients from years of
gathering in order to write the scroll. This will do for your
purposes, and I can raise them now.”
    “ The Empire of Krasio is marching on our western border,” King
Mathis said. “They have a thousand archers alone. Can you stop
them?”
    “ My risen are impervious to arrows.” Thomas put his fingers
through a couple ribs. “See, arrows will simply go through. I will
have to lead them, of course. They will only listen to my
commands.”
    The king continued to stare into the blue-flame eyes. “If you
defeat the Empire of Krosia, I will give you my daughter’s hand in
marriage.”
    “ What?” came a yell from behind the curtains to the rear of
the throne. A girl of about fifteen, dressed in an elaborately
tailored yellow and red flowing gown, now stood beside the