Chương 568: A Meeting at Northguard

Ben grumbled internally as he constructed a tripod for his spyglass. It would make it easier to watch the upcoming drama. He was still quite upset at Chartok for sending him out to the boonies and away from the fun, but couldn't fault the wolf's logic. He certainly had been planning things, but hadn't thought it was so obvious. It seemed that the old wolf had become a good judge of what a dashing hero might do in situations like this. Goodboy was laying on the ground, relaxed and napping.

Or rather, looked like he was napping. Twice Ben had taken a single step towards some underbrush and his mount had growled at him, then rolled to expose his belly, wanting to be petted. Ben had sighed and mended the strained relationship, then gone back to watching through the spyglass as preparations were made by Pinchpenny and the Winter Entourage for their meeting. Pinchpenny had six guards wearing soiled and torn uniforms of the Emperor's Legion, their faces sunken and eyes simply black holes.

Based on his observations, they were the only soldiers left in Northguard. Even from here, Ben knew something was wrong with them. They didn't move, didn't even blink, and had been standing that way for hours as Pinchpenny set up a few small tables and and arcane devices, rearranging things until he was satisfied. Curiously, Ben saw no Contract Workers on the walls this morning. What that meant, he didn't know, but he was worried.

Chartok had casually mentioned the problems of dealing with another necromancer, and another time called him a 'soul stealer'. But the wolf had been vary cagy about giving up specific details.

"Sorry, almost-a-paladin, but I'm an old-school wolf. We adhere to the standards of professional courtesy and don't go tattling about someone's powers to the other side. If he wasn't consorting with Northern Paladins to rob me of my chick dinners, I might have left him alone forever." Ben had been left with a lot of questions, the foremost being how long Pinchpenny had been dabbling in the black arts, did anyone in the Empire know, and how that was related to his driving the peasants from his lands.

And did Alchemarx figure into this? That corporation had employed Black Witches and been working with the Baron of Northguard. With nothing else to do, he jotted down the thoughts in his reports. The more things Diego had to keep him busy, the less he'd be sniffing around Sedgewick and the secrets Ben didn't want the old man finding out about. Possibly a losing cause, Diego had a keen nose, but it was worth a try. Winter, on the other hand, was still arguing and and preparing for their final, short march.

They had come into the main camp of the besieging force last night, a rag-tag group of weary travelers on their last legs. The mages were reeling from a lack of mana. The constant necrotic storms that Chartok had conjured not giving them a night's rest, and their general insisting they use their magic to freeze the sodden ground along their path and construct icy fortifications each night around their camps had kept them depleted.

The wolves had done their job, leaving them with few beasts to draw the sleighs, no supplies, and a lack of Beastmasters and scouts. The dire situation had forced the patrols to go in groups of a dozen or more. The old wolf had giggled at times as he and Ben lay not far from the camp in the shadows. The 'Paladins' still hadn't made the connection that they were facing a necromancer, and not feral packs of their own wolves.

Ironically, they learned that the packs had been a constant thorn in the army's side even before Chartok began thinning the packs and adding their might to his own. Now, the general, Glacia, was shouting and berating what was left of her forces, and preparing for her meeting with Pennypincher. The Rime Knights were doing their best to present themselves as a polished military force, difficult after what Chartok had put them through.

Ben had to admit that the wolf was an artist at this type of game, having honed his talents many times over the long centuries he had been testing paladins, inquisitors, and heroes in general. Ben was proud of his own part in their guerilla war, and had done everything he could to give Chartok ideas for bringing ruin to this force of 'Winter Paladins.' The old wolf had delighted in the idea of creating false pathways that led to dead ends.

The Baron had helped immensely with this when he destroyed all the roads in the area in a strange attempt to rob Gadobhra and Sedgewick of trade, merchants, and players. One such path had led them twenty miles out of their way to a long wooden bridge over a deep chasm with a surging river below it. Ben had worked long hours weakening the support beams and setting up a trap that would drop some of them into the river. Chartok had over ruled him on that.

"They might sense the trap, or reinforce the bridge with a layer of ice. Killing a few isn't the point, although stranding half on one side would be delightful. But far better to work on their moral and fortitude. Finding a collapsed bridge at the end of a long march will crush their souls and give them no one to blame." The Winter forces had just arrived, and Glacia had commanded someone to scout across the chasm.

The job fell to a dozen of the frozen dead who began to shamble across the rotted structure that creaked and groaned under their weight. Hidden on the other side, Ben had given a tug on of a piece of string that had released a beam to fall, and take out a key support of the bridge. The Ice Mages had stared in horror as the entire bridge fell into the chasm directly in front of them. With no other options, they began trudging back down the road as the nightly rain began falling and wolves howled in the forests.

He and Chartok had giggled together and headed to Northguard, arriving long before Winter backtracked and found the correct path. Now, Ben watched as a contingent of one hundred Knights in full armor was put together, scavenging from all the rest who then tried to armor themselves as best they could. Many were disgusted with the situation and declared that a true knight did not wear trash, stripping to breeches and boots, their powers protecting them from the cold.

Many came from berserker clans, and the idea of fighting naked was still popular. Glacia led them forward with her best six Wizards from the Winter Council, protected by her honor guard of one hundred knights. Penny Pincher waited patiently on the ramparts above them. He seemed in good spirits and greeted them.

"Welcome, honored members of the Winter Council. Your delayed arrival has made me anxious for our talks to begin." Glacia stepped forward.

"Then let us begin. I am Glacia, High Mage of the Council of Winter and General of our forces sent to conquer these lands. I am ready to accept your surrender, and the artifact." Pennypincher shook his head, "No. I don't think so. You haven't been able to take Northguard yet, nor will you, not if you want the artifact intact and not a broken box of rotted wood. Should anything living besides myself come withing a yard of it, the Null Stone of Zagig will make sure of that. Your trip will have been for nothing.

I suggest we stick to the terms I proposed and iron out a proper agreement, as allies, not adversaries." Inside, Glacia fumed. She was sure that this man had used his power over his Barony and his rumored magical abilities to delay them, and gain a better bargaining position. She seethed inside, knowing just how well the strategy had worked. No one in the North had ever encountered the black rain that drained mana. They rarely saw rain at all, and no equivalent ice storm could accomplish so much.

With a supreme amount of will she had to admit that such a sorcerer under her command would be a useful boon.

"Very well, I've come a long way and small details can be bent to accommodate you. Come down and we will talk."

"Apologies. Your siege forces were entirely too successful. My tower is without stairs or openings at this point, beyond the door behind me. But I'm sure that creating a set of stairs will be easy for accomplished mages of Ice such as yourself. Please come up and I will play host and you can gaze upon the artifact from a safe distance." Glacia nodded... of course that would be easy, but she wasn't using what little mana she had recovered.

She gestured to two of her council and they began summoning enchanted ice, making a set of broad stairs with handrails that spiraled around the tower. This was child's play for them, if they'd had the mana. As it was, they were straining at the end, their spells devouring their stamina and then their life forces to finish. Pennypincher was fidgeting with a tea set and biscuits and didn't notice the two wizards collapse into comas as the other four, Glacia, and a dozen Rime Knights ascended the stairs.

Pennypincher had let the old persona free for a little while, trying to remember the proper etiquette for greeting guests. Sadly, the miser had rarely had guests, but he did manage to have the help prepare tea and some old cookies for a snack. He didn't heat the tea, assuming rightly that the Winter Mages would prefer it cold.

"Please, have seats and partake of what little hospitality I have at the end of this siege. And feel free to look at the Casket you came for, but do not, for all our sakes, go beyond the small barrier I placed in the way. None of us will be happy if the Null Stone, and a few other surprises, are triggered." This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Glacia motioned for the other's to sit, and looked at the artifact. It was genuine, she knew it.

The master runes carved into hard wood of a branch of a Son of Yggdrasil were still fresh and glowing. It fairly reeked of power and the air crackled around it as what little heat there was continued to be slowly drawn into the casket. With this, her forces would surge forward and the Northern Empire would be hers. Gadobhra would be negotiated with, she had long agon decided that, and Rowan Keep crushed between them. Visions of her glory danced in her eyes. Then she realized Pennypincher was talking.

"As I was saying, my needs are small. I will be given a position on the Winter Council. My lands will remain mine, but as a Baron of Winter, not the Empire. My fortress will be rebuilt, but under your control during the war. In return, I will cede to you not only the Casket of Stolen Summers, but also the Flying Broom of the Wizard Shea and enchanted sword of Sky Metal known as Storm over Warlock. I also volunteer to take part in any large battle.

I can be quite effective when it comes to turning the enemy to my side, and demoralizing their forces." At the mention of the other two artifacts, the Ice Wizards looked up from their deliciously cool tea. Both were legendary items used in previous battles with the Empire and thought lost. All of them wondered what else the Baron might have hidden away. Glacia herself was wondering that, but focused on the last bit of conversation.

"That, I can believe. Your conjured rain that delayed us was extremely effective. You will teach me that spell, and in return, will be given a position on my general staff." Pennypincher paused for a moment.

"Rain? I have felt some strange magic in the area, but assumed it was yours or the Empire. I have not dabbled in weather magic in ages, and certainly wouldn't delay you."

"You deny the obvious? You cannot lie to me, Necromancer. This close, I can see you for what you are!" She snapped at him, and her hands became icy with power. She'd kept in control for far too long, and the bold faced lie was the last straw. The monster inside Pennypincher saw that, gathering his own power.

"Beware, Ice Witch, I have eaten what little pride I have left to accept a position as a minion in your pitiful army. How you are threatening the Empire, I don't know, but I'm not impressed with what I see here today. I say again, the storms were not mine!" Winds picked up as Glacia's rage summoned an icy whirl wind around the tower, her ultimate spell coming to her hands unbidden. High in the sky and leagues away, Ragnarök felt it, and was curious. The Ice Devil raced across the sky to see what was happening.

And then the storm changed, as rain splattered down, the black rain that had plagued Glacia for days on end. She threw a spell at the Necromancer, a spear of pure cold that would freeze a man instantly.

"Ice Spear of Utqiaġvik" The spear drove at Pinchpenny's chest, but was absorbed by an amulet that shattered from the force of the spell.

"Bitch, that was mine for centuries! DIE!" He reached for her soul, but the rush of the Rime Knights was in the way. He reaped all of them, drinking in their hard, cold souls and getting what sustenance he could from them, wishing instead it was one fat halfling smoking a pipe. He longed to visit the Moot again. The loss of her guard surprised Glacia, and the two spells had drained all of her mana. She yelled at the Wizards behind her, "Together, we kill him. Attack!"

They began casting as Pinchpenny grabbed an orb from a table and invoked its power, putting up a shield around himself.

"Go ahead, exhaust yourselves against Mazirian's Magical Marvelous Sphere, and then your souls will be mine, and I will lead the assault upon the Empire! I dare say it will be hard to do a worse job than you have." They tried, of course, they had not choice, but the best they could do was entomb Pinchpenny in Ice, unable to pierce the Sphere of protective magics around them. And then, the rain came down forcefully, draining what was left of their power.

They stumbled back against the parapets in agony, and then saw what was happening below. At the camp, and around the tower, thousands of wolves led by Snarlfangs were racing from the woods or emerging from under the snow and mud where they had hidden. The Rime Knights fought, but few had proper armor or weapons, and if they killed a dozen wolves before going down, it was a victory for the wolves. And to their horror, they realized the truth: The wolves were dead, and had been so for some time.

Cut a wolf in half, and it dragged itself forward to bite an ankle. Stab one through the heart, and it still came for the throat. All around the tower of Northguard, the forces of Winter were dying, and from out of the night came howls, and then laughter. Glacia looked at Pinchpenny, who was slowly breaking through the ice.

"Who could do this! What do we face, Necromancer?" Pinchpenny was at a loss for words.

"Another Necromancer? How, we are solitary creatures, and don't share well. Plus, this is totally against guild rules! What despicable animal would act this way?" He went to the parapet next to Glacia, their enmity gone in the face of mutual danger. A deep voice said from somewhere, " Despicable animal? I'll have you know I've sent in my dues every decade! Your family hasn't paid a cent in over a thousand years!" Wolves raced forward, forming piles, with more and more standing atop the lower layer.

It had taken two Ice Wizards of the Winter Council a half hour to construct a staircase that the wolves made in thirty seconds. And racing up it was a monstrous, black Snarlfang with glowing red eyes, whose power was apparent to both wizards. He glared at them with disdain." Isn't this sweet! A miserly skinflint without a fat hen in his barony for over a hundred years, and an invader with fell plans to make me eat frozen dinners for a century. Well, it's not happening! As Champion of Sedgewick, I say thee Nay!"

Both wizards gathered what power they could. Glacia, never one to let reality affect what she said, yelled back, "I will muzzle you and make you pull my sleigh." Chartok laughed, " I rotted your sleigh, I'm killing your knights, and I just stole your precious book and other treasures, and sent them off to one of my minions for safe keeping." That last part was too much for her. She used Slicing Ice to conjure deadly blades and dove at his eyes.

Chartok opened his mouth wide and his powerful jaws clamped down on Glacia, cutting her body in half. He legs fell to the floor as he chewed on the rest, then spit out what was in his mouth." Bah, tastes like frozen chicken, so disappointing. How about you, Pinchy? You going to hand over that cute little treasure, or do I eat your face too?" Pinchpenny smiled and bowed, "Oh, far be it from me to not know when I'm beaten. Chickens you say?

I suppose I could make sure there were always a good supply for a hungry wolf. Just leave an old man be and take that trivial trinket." He stepped out of the way, trying to keep his face from smiling and his eyes downcast.

When the Null Stone triggered, not only would the artifact be destroyed, but any Wizard would be drained of power and killed instantly, even one controlling a necromantic pawn. He could still win this day. Chartok nimbly hopped over the barrier, picked up the Casket of Stolen Summers in his mouth, and leaped for the parapets pausing to take in the sight of Pitchpenney's staring eyes and slack jawed face. Then he turned and prepared to leap for the ground.

Pinchpenny belatedly realized his error: This wolf was dead, and not controlled by a living spirit. The trap hadn't triggered, and now the wolf was leaping to freedom. He did the only thing he could, reaching for Chartok's soul. He wasn't powerful enough to reap him, but his spell did have an effect... Chartok looked around, surprised as he was pulled from the Snarlfang he'd been inhabiting and left bodiless in midair.

He had a small thought that he really should start anchoring himself better, but that made last minute escapes harder. He turned to Pinchpenny, cowering in a corner." OOOH, someone figured out that I need a body and is worried. Silly two legs, like I'd accept a downgrade like you!" He reached for another Snarlfang...... and the body he'd inhabited hit the ground, the mighty jaws clenched around the artifact, snapping the old wood like kindling, and releasing the heat and magic kept imprisoned in the artifact.

Ben saw the blinding light and explosion from his position, miles away, as a glowing yellow mushroom cloud formed where Northguard had been, and thirty-seven captive summers entered the world again.