Renate. In her younger years, Ultrina had once considered coming to stay there in the heart of the empire, in the world of those who had it all. However, that had been a long time ago and many experiences since had taught her she wanted nothing to do with those who called Renate home. Now, traveling through the foothills and toward the plain where the city sat, she wanted nothing more than to run back into the mountains and escape. Fear dug into her bones, burrowing there to nest at the base of her skull. The King wanted to see her. The King. The man who had been the cause of the culling, the person responsible for the death of her parents.
The one who had killed more than any necromancer ever had all in the name of peace. Ultrina felt and killed the urge to scream as it rose up inside her. It couldn’t be allowed to take over her thoughts. She rode with Narsan nearby and she didn’t want to wake the sleeping child. The daughter, Narsakin, whom she had saved rode half-asleep with her mother. Narsan had been reluctant to let the girl out of her sight after what happened. Hopefully, it wouldn’t stay that way once they were once more among the civilized. Or at least so they would undoubtedly call themselves. In her journey over the land since her exile, Ultrina had learned a few lessons quite well. One of them was no matter what a person said or wore, what they did defined who they were. If they blustered but behaved fearfully, they were cowards. If they shook, but stood their ground, they were brave. If they stole, they were thieves regardless of why. Bandits took from those who did not have in order to enrich themselves. She wanted nothing to do with any of the kind. Thus she had been willing only to stand for herself. Everything else and everyone else couldn’t be trusted.
Alba trotted faithfully along, keeping pace with the others of the caravan. Ultrina cast a glance back to pick out Mongen who rode closer to the middle of the column. The giant locked eyes with her and didn’t look away from a long moment. They were not friends, but perhaps one could say they were not enemies any longer. She had kept her end of the bargain, they were in Renate now. She had only to present herself before the King and wait for what was to come.
Her fears might well be realized. Death stood not far from her on her best day, to have it standing with a boot on her neck only made her more aware of what she was leaving behind.
Entering the gates of the walled city, Ultrina looked up at the battlements. They were manned with those who wore scarlet caps on their shoulders. The royal purple of Mongen’s cap did not stand out so much among the people where there were many who wore the caps of the soldiers. A beggar made their way into the caravan calling for alms and safety. Ultrina had money still, but she didn’t dare be seen giving it away to someone in need. Giving to one only brought others like vultures and she didn’t dare to bring such things down on Narsan. They moved through the city slowly, the caravan peeling off in layers as sections were sent on their own business at last leaving just those of the primary triumvirate, their children, and the guests. Mongen stopped at the edge of the property owned by Narsan and said,
“We have business in the citadel.”
“Shall we accompany?” Narsan’s male consort asked. He had changed his clothes so that he wore Renatan finery. Narsan and the rest of the family had done the same. They were a far cry from the dusty and dirty family which they had first encountered. It made Ultrina wish to hide.
“No, we will be fine without an accompaniment.” Mongen pressed for Tal to once more ride with Ultrina and they wheeled out of the courtyard of the Narsan’s home, leaving the others behind.
The citadel stood on a raised hill overlooking the sea, crystal capped towers glittering in the sun. It was said one could divine the movement of the Gods by the light from the towers. Ultrina believed no such thing. Of course, she had never seen anyone divine the true movements of the Gods. They were beyond man. She didn’t dare believe anything less. When Mongen rode up to the citadel gates, he was greeted by those who moved with speed to open them for him. They did not ask who was with him, but scurried like obedient mice to do as their master commanded.
The Captain of the Royal Guard rode into the citadel and was immediately accorded a welcome from the soldiers within. A boy was sent running before them into the interior to announce their presence. To announce the return of the Captain and those who were with him.
Mongen did not answer any questions he was peppered with as he moved through the halls. There were those who wanted to know what had happened to his men, but he didn’t stop to talk. Instead he led the way to the chamber in which the King would be holding court at that hour, a ruby red room decked out with curtains of a stark black. The fire globes which lit the room through flickers back and forth making it appear as if the shadows might possess their own intelligence.
The room fell silent at Mongen’s entrance with Ultrina, unarmed, at his side and Tal following closely along behind.
“You may pay your respects,” came a voice from the edge of the room. Mongen knelt to one knee and gestured for the others with him to do the same.
“With respect, my King, your servant has returned from his appointed round.”
Mongen’s voice echoed off the top of the chamber, moving with a life of its own through the room.
The King rose from his throne and made a gesture with which Ultrina was unfamiliar. The room began to empty. A murmur of discontent ran out with those who left like water from a basin.
When the chamber, now all the more echoic for being empty, was sealed, the King came down from his throne to stand before Mongen who had waited patiently on his knee.
“Rise, my friend,” said the King. “And tell me what has transpired since you left my sight.”
Ultrina slid her eyes from Mongen to the King and back again as Mongen rose and clasped hands with the monarch.
“Much has happened, but first let me complete my duty.” Mongen bowed low. “This is Ultrina.”
Without rising from her place, Ultrina picked up her head and looked directly into the eyes of the monarch. He rested pale eyes on her and offered her one hand to rise. They were not equals to say the least, so Ultrina wondered at the friendliness of his gesture. Refusing to take his hand, she stood on her own and kept her head down.
“Is it true?” the King asked. “Are you able?”
Ultrina still did not know exactly what he wanted, but she nodded her head yes just the same. In her current state, there was no telling how she would feel about what was to be done. If she was right about what the King wanted, then she could do it, maybe. Possibly. Of course, there was also the chance that she couldn’t and would be forced to be beheaded.
Narsan wouldn’t like that, but then again, what could a trader do against the will of the King?
Tal rose from her place and put her hand against the small of Ultrina’s back as if in reminder of her presence. Ultrina relaxed as best she could against the hand pressing against her.
The King led the way out of the scarlet room by a door behind the throne and it led first into another room dark without its globe lights and then into another room where the globes were dimmed by dark shades. Everything in the room appeared gray and somewhere above them, the sound of a heart beating welcomed them.
“Whose heart is that?” Ultrina asked.
The King did not respond and the others gestured for her to be quiet. Within minutes they stood before a locked glass case with a woman inside. At the foot of the case were offerings as one would give to a goddess, flowers and sweets and carvings. Standing before the case, the King put his hand on the glass and carefully waited until the heart beat sounded again.
“I have a job for you.” His eyes sought Ultrina’s and held them. “Bring her back to life.”
“If that is her heart I hear, she isn’t dead.”
“That isn’t her heart you hear,” he said. “It’s mine.”
Mongen cocked his head to one side.
“I had to preserve her somehow,” came the explanation. “She was dead on the floor of her chambers.”
Ultrina nodded. If the Princess was indeed dead, then there was a chance she could be brought back, but that was only a chance. Of all things possible, bringing a soul back from the afterlife was one of them, but it held with it a steep price.
“Are you prepared to pay the price necessary for her resurrection?” Ultrina asked.
“I will pay any price to see her survive me.”
“The Consummation ball comes apace,” Tal said quietly. Ultrina had heard of the ball where one of the royal triumvirate was chosen, the one who would be the father or mother of the heir.
“She is of age,” the King said. “And I cannot have another.”
There was almost a moment where Ultrina felt some sadness for him. However, it was fleeting. This man, the man she would help, had caused the death of the only family she had ever had. He had been willing to see others destroyed for his personal vendetta against a strange power. He had given her more misery than perhaps he would ever know. To watch him lose his child seemed only fair; however, Ultrina knew she wouldn’t just stand by. If she did, then she would be no better than him.
The gray room sparkled for a moment and the heart beat drummed through it.
“What have you done?” Ultrina asked.
“I have done the only thing I could do. I have tied the life of her body to mine, so long as I live, her body will not rot. I cannot have a moment of what she is show for others to see. If they know she is dead, then there will be a bid for the throne and I cannot have that. My issue will follow after me and hers after her. I will see to it.”
Was that a glimmer of madness Ultrina detected in him? Perhaps. Still, she had come this far and would see things through. She owed Mongen and Tal her life for saving her, now she needed to pay them back. Even if it meant betraying what little memory she had left of her mother and father.
“Tell me what it is you need for me to do,” Ultrina said.
“I need you to do what only you and yours are capable of doing. The thing for which you were razed from this earth. I need you to bring someone back fully from the afterlife, whole and entire unto themselves.” The King said those words without a hint of remorse. He had ordered them razed from the world, now he wanted her to do for him the very thing he had seen to her parents’ execution for. The fact of his lack of remorse neither surprised nor saddened Ultrina. Things had been done. Now there was a chance to do something about them.
“What do I stand to gain from this?” Her question was plain and simple. She did not dress it up with flowery words or anything which sounded less than total self-interest. She needed to know what it was she would get out of doing what was essentially the impossible for those who were not one foot in the spirit realm.
“I will grant your freedom,” the King said. “I will give you pardon and allow you to exist and even marry within these borders.”
Tal took in a breath and let it out slowly, deliberately. Ultrina could not help noticing. To marry within the borders of the Holy Land was sacred. To be allowed to even exist was a great boon, but to bring forth her own blood on the land, that was beyond priceless. And to know that the King had set it in motion and thus no one dared rescind it made Ultrina’s mind reel with the possibilities. No longer a pariah. Allowed to have a home. She took a deep breath of her own and considered her next words carefully.
What the King asked was near on impossible, even for a necromancer of skill. Ultrina did not consider herself that; however, to do less than try was to let down those who had come before. Ultrina had to try. Even if she failed and was killed for her failure, she would not be in bad company. Many of her blood were dead.
“I will do this thing for you,” she said without inflection. Then she bowed her head. She did not bend her knee, but that bow was enough to assuage those who would have thought her rude for failing to do anything.
Mongen shifted from one foot to another, his weight giving him away. The King snapped his eyes from Ultrina to the Captain and then softly brought them back to her.
“What will you need?”
“Everything I can know of her and one other thing.”
“What is it? Name it.”
“A sacrifice.”
Escorted to a room near to the King’s chambers, Ultrina was left alone for the first time since she had met Mongen weeks before. Here she was essentially a prisoner, but she knew that without question. Her life was without a doubt on the line for what the King wanted and he wanted the nearly impossible. It was not impossible for her. She had done it before; however, that didn’t mean it would be easy or even necessarily possible in this circumstance. In her previous interaction with the afterlife, the person had just died and then she brought them back. To bring back someone who had been dead for at least a month, she wasn’t sure it was possible. However, she had to at least try. Without trying, she was as good as dead. With trying and perhaps succeeding she would have what she had always wanted, a life where she did not have to hide and run whenever someone found out what she was.
A young woman let herself into the room after a polite knock. She did not wear the Sisters’ headscarf which said she was simply a servant who would one day grow up and marry herself. The maid came forward and bowed low to Ultrina.
“I am Candace,” she said. “I’m to care for you while you are here.”
Ultrina observed her without saying a word for a long moment. They were similar in height, but not in build. Where Ultrina was gaunt but seemed as if a few nice meals would make her luscious, Candace was all bones. Her dark hair and dark eyes betrayed a lack of self-care Ultrina understood all too well as one who was defeated by their circumstances. Oh, how well she knew that look.
“Welcome,” Ultrina said. “What is it you are to do for me?”
“I am to be your maid.”
“And my jailer, I have no doubt.”
“No, mistress. I am not to follow you anywhere you do not wish for me to go. It is not my place.”
Ultrina raised an eyebrow. Not her jailer. Interesting. Did the King think her so trustworthy he would allow her to roam freely among those who populated the citadel? Perhaps he did. If he didn’t, then he had chosen the wrong one to come to him for she didn’t understand her place. Suspicion rose up in Ultrina’s mind like a rearing horse. It offered little quarter against the nicer thoughts.
Mongen and Tal had been in a while before and left her to her own, which made Ultrina quite pleased. She had seen enough of them in the intervening weeks that their continued presence only brought her agitation.
“I need my ax,” Ultrina said.
“Your ax?” Candace said.
“Yes. It’s among my things brought in with my horse, Alba. I want you to get it for me. Or at the very least have it brought. I have need of it.”
Candace bowed again and then left the room on quick feet. If her hurry betrayed anything other than a wish to please her new mistress, Ultrina paid it no mind. There was little about this place or its inhabitants that interested her. If she was going to go against the reality of death, she needed to read up as much as she could. Of course, the only information she had was the now tattered and worn scroll she had been given as a child. It outlined the major things a necromancer could do and how to do them, but it also left out things which a child necromancer would learn from their family over time. Thus leaving her with gaps in her knowledge.
Ultrina had, however, managed to survive quite well with those gaps. Now, though, it might spell her downfall. She needed to come up with a way to stall. There might be something in the scroll that could help her.
The King’s lack of surprise at her desire for a sacrifice did give her pause. He seemed quite willing to put someone else’s life on the line to save his daughter. Then again, he had placed his own on the line first, so maybe it was just a continuance of the madness the man already felt. The spell tying his heartbeat and life to the body of his daughter was complicated, perhaps to the point of forbidden knowledge.
Magic, for all that it was ubiquitous among certain members of the population, was heavily regulated, so she had to wonder who had helped him with the spell. Of course, it was none of her business one way or another, it just offered her a sense of what she was up against. Certainly someone else had tried to resurrect the Princess before her. Therefore, there had to be someone else at least slightly versed in the makings of the spell.
Ultrina moved to the window and looked out into a garden. Strange to see so much green surrounded by stone. There were flowers blooming and she had no doubt if she opened the window, she would be able to smell them and hear the birds chirping throughout the space. Still, it was different than being out in the forest. There was something strangely wrong about this. As if something made it unreal thanks to its placement.
With a sigh, Ultrina turned back into the room. It was well appointed, the kind of place one would give to a visiting dignitary, not an outlawed magician who might or might not be able to do what you asked.
The King didn’t know she didn’t know though. Therefore, there might be a way to survive without having to finish what she had begun.
Ultrina stroked her hair back from her forehead and considered things further. The Consummation Ball.
Tal said it was coming on apace, which meant it would be soon. Ultrina sat down and plotted the timeline for how long they had been on the road with her fingers. Only weeks, but the Princess had been dead a while before that. How long did they have left? What was she up against when it came to time? Ultrina scowled.
Then a heavy knock came at the door. Candace returned accompanied by a guardsman.
“She said you needed this,” the man said. The Royal Guardsman offered the ax to Ultrina with both hands and his head bowed. Candace waited, practically holding her breath.
“Why didn’t you bring it yourself?” Ultrina asked when the guard left.
“I couldn’t lift it to carry it.”
“Weakling.”
Candace ducked her head and retired to the edge of the room out of immediate eyesight. Proper servant behavior, close enough to hear, but not to eavesdrop or look over one’s shoulder. Ultrina considered allowing her to see the special compartment built into the ax handle, but thought better of it. The less anyone knew of her and her secrets, the better off she was. Ultrina did not trust.
It was better that way.
Leaving Candace alone in the sitting room, Ultrina retired to the room next door, a bedroom. A four post bed sat in the center of the far wall with a desk nearby. Ultrina moved to the desk, sat the ax on it, and then pulled the ax handle all the way out. The handle came out with an easy sound, and inside of the handle was the scroll of memory her mother and father had given her.
The belt used to secure the scroll to her body as a child had broken years previous and now worked as a tie to keep her packs together, but the scroll in spite of its age still looked well.
Ultrina caressed the inked surface, carefully, as if she might blur it still after all these years. She had never written on it, in spite of there being space for her to. She had never found any knowledge worth writing down. It offered her a piece of her history. Rolling the scroll carefully around her right arm, she then popped the ax handle back into place and pulled down her sleeve. For now, it would not leave her possession. She needed to consider its contents and what she might do now to prepare for what was to come.
Puppets were easy.
Ghosts a little more difficult.
Being able to go to the afterlife and return with another spirit and replace it within a body, well, that was all the more difficult. Especially since she had never known the spirit in question.
The Princess didn’t even have a name in her estimation. She was only the Princess, the King’s daughter. Certainly she would need to know more about her if she was to bring her back from the dead. She would need to know enough to summon and winnow out the right spirit. Otherwise, there was no telling what she might place back in the body.
Ultrina closed her eyes and considered the picture in her mind. She might well put anyone back in that body and who would be the wiser until it was too late?
A broken smile crossed her face.
She could keep her word.
Or she could enact revenge.
If you’re interested in reading ahead, chapter seven is already posted to my Patreon. http://www.patreon.com/alledriahurt.