Marching in time with his fellow recruits Mirek tried his best to ignore the bitter wind that swept through the mountain valley. It wasn't easy. Gritty snow that was more like sand peppered his face, frost hung from his eyelashes, and his woollen scarf was icy around his mouth. His fingers felt brittle, as if the bones had turned to ice.

Gritting his teeth, he kept marching. Stopping wouldn't warm him up, it would only get him yelled at and given extra duties. His experience defending Kodor, and keeping his small group of survivors alive didn't matter to the New Undying Army. They treated him just like a new recruit. He'd have to show them he deserved a place in the army.

The man beside him stumbled in the slippery snow. Reaching out he steadied his comrade in misery. “You Ok, Patya?” he asked.

“Yes. Just need boots that fit properly. These are too damn small,” the big northerner said.

“I heard Jan complaining that his boots are too big even after being packed with straw. Maybe you can trade with him.”

“Really? I'll see him when we stop. Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he replied. He'd been listening and watching everyone for the last two weeks, finding out who they were, what they liked, what problems they were having, and more. Now it was time to make it pay off.

He didn't say much for the rest of the march. The cold sapped their strength and they'd been marching or drilling for hours. At noon they were finally allowed to stop and get some lunch. Lining up with their kit at the canteen, which was a barely insulated building that had rough hewn tables and benches, Mirek made sure to pick his spot carefully.

“Hey Antonin. You still looking for something to give that girl of yours?” he asked.

“Yeah, it's Bedriska's birthday soon. If I give her something nice, she'll give me something nice back,” the young recruit who could barely shave said with a grin.

Laughing, he nodded in understanding. “Oleg in second company lost a lot of money at poker last night. He needs to pay off his debt soon, and he has a nice bracelet he scavenged from Kodor.”

Antonin scowled. “I don't have any money.”

“I'll lend you some. You can pay me back when we get paid at the end of the month.”

“You'll do that for me?”

“I don't need the money for anything right now. And I trust you to pay it back.” He wasn't lying, but that wasn't the reason he was helping. Mirek wanted to get a helpful reputation. It would help him move up the ranks quickly. The army was desperate for officers, and anyone who wasn't an idiot had a chance of getting a commission. Once he was high enough, he'd be able to get close to the Necromancer. If he could get within arms reach of the monster, he'd only need a few seconds to do the deed.

He kept his dark thoughts to himself as the young man thanked him. His friendly smile never wavered as they got their soup and biscuits, and talked about rumours and camp scuttlebutt.

Ten years ago the fortifications manned by the dead would have been Aleksandar's worst nightmare. After watching the demons advance for so long, the many kinds of dead that roamed the trenches and walls was only disturbing. At least the flag of the Eldritch Council still flew from the observation towers, he'd half expected them to have the skull of the old Necromantic Empire

As the dog sleds of his small party slid along the snow following the ghosts who had been with them for the last week, he could hear the excited shouts of the living soldiers. Soldiers came out putting a log bridge over the wide pit that had been dug thirty yards in front of the first row of fortifications. They weren't wearing proper uniforms, but they moved as a team, with no wasted motions.

The defenses were primitive, being only made of wood and dirt. Yet they were well placed and heavily built. The soldiers were all armed with rifles and pistols, not the spears and swords he'd read about in his report. The air was thick with smoke from the hundreds of stove pipes that marked out underground shelters and dugouts, which likely held most of the living soldiers, protected from the cold temperatures and snow. This wasn't a pack of rabble and defeated soldiers he'd been told of, this was an army ready to defend itself.

A young man in a stained and worn out uniform met him at the first trench. “Mage Aleksandar, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Lieutenant Hugo Bianchi, if you'll follow me I'll take you to General Ajani.”

Getting out of the comfortable, and more importantly, warm pile of furs, Aleksandar nodded, and followed the young man. The disgusting flying monsters that laughed like children followed him, laughing as he stumbled along on his stiff legs.

He wondered what the things were, they hadn't been mentioned in any of his books of the dead. Neither had the massive dead things that stood silently and unmoving at the edges of the fortifications, as if they were statues rather than rotted flesh. Just what had the Necromancer been up to since being resurrected?

Because of the twisted and zigzagging pattern they had to take to get around the fortifications, it took a while to get to the command centre. Likely because of the winter weather it wasn't very busy, there was a yellow mage sitting quietly writing something in a ledger, and a handful of people he assumed were officers, going over reports or writing orders.

General Ajani was easy to spot thanks to his dark skin and impressive height. Looking up at the grim looking man, he forced himself to stay confident. He was a Blue Mage and he was here on a special mission. In many ways he was the equal of the general.

“General Ajani,” he said, “it's a pleasure to meet you.”

The general nodded. “Is the Council sending us support?"

He hadn't expected the abrupt question. Usually there was at least a hello before starting the discussion. “I don't know. I'm just here to act as a liaison between the Council and the Necromancer.”

“Very well, follow me,”

“Where are we going?” he asked, following the general outside.

“I want to show you somethings, and you can report it back to the Council.”

Without saying anything else the general climbed up a rickety ladder to the watch tower above the headquarters. Aleksandar followed much less confidently, his fingers turning white as he clung to the ladder.

At the top of the forty foot tower, he had a spectacular look over the fortifications and surrounding area. The general motioned for him to look around. From up above the confusing mess of trenches actually made sense, there were choke points, specially prepared fields of fire, and bunkers with ammo and supplies in every trench.

“What do you see when you look around?” General Ajani asked.

“I see well laid out fortifications, trained soldiers, overall a formidable defense. I hadn't expected anything like this when I was given my orders. I was told you were on your last legs and weren't expected to survive a single assault.”

“We weren't going to. This was made possible by the Necromancer. Almost entirely on her own she threw back the first attack. Then she helped deal with the horde that came a few hours later. For every living soldier, there are five dead soldiers. The dead dug most of the trenches, allowing my men to focus on strengthening the rest of the defenses. Her dead are hunting down the demons wherever they stand in the region. We now have the winter to prepare for another year of fighting.”

“I understand,” he replied. He honestly did, if the general was telling the truth, and there was no reason to lie, the dead were more valuable than nearly any weapon or machine created. “I'll make sure the Council is aware of this.”

“And what will you do about the geas that's been placed on her?”

“I was told to avoid it, if at all possible. The Necromancer is doing a good job so far, I'm mostly here to keep things running smoothly and ensure that there is no confusion over tactics and plans.”

The general nodded. “Good. Keep to that and everything will go smoothly. Mage Keira has proven to be very useful. If anything should happen to her, many of my soldiers would be very upset.”

Aleksandar gulped at the very blatant threat. Then he realized he'd missed something earlier. “ Wait, Keira? Her? Who are you talking about?”

Standing quietly by the door of classroom, Floria watched the necromancy students attempt to create their first ghosts. The Regua walked among them, giving them advice, praising minor successes, and pushing some of the students to do better.

Faint, human-like figures, that seemed to be more shadow and mist than anything, took shape. Some remained, others faded away within seconds of being created. One young girl made a ghost that looked like her twin, only to have it pop out of existence. The girl began sobbing quietly, hiding her face in her hands. The old priestess was at her side a moment later, talking to her in a whisper.

The sight of the ghosts reminded her of her lost squad. The new people under her command were hardened soldiers, who had gone through the Abyss and survived, but they weren't her friends. The mostly healed wound in her stomach twinged, making her grimace.

She knew they had died doing their duty. They would pass through the gates of death with their heads held high, to be greeted by their ancestors as warriors, which was all anyone could truly hope for, but it didn't make it easy for those left behind. A voice in the back of her head said she should have died with them.

While she mulled over her dark thoughts, the old priestess came over.

“You look troubled,” the woman said.

“What?” she asked, not expecting to hear that.

“I noticed that you seem upset. Maybe I can help.”

“I'm not a follower of the Mother and Father,” Floria said.

The priestess smiled. “Why should that matter when helping someone?”

Floria looked at the old woman more closely. She looked more like a friendly grandmother than a priestess for the Dogs. Was the woman trying to get close to her as a way to reach the Regua?

“I'm on duty, I can't talk right now,” she said. Hopefully that would end the conversation.

“All right. If you change your mind later, come find me, I'm Sister Kaja. We're allies now, we should help each other when we can.”

She nodded, not sure what to say. Fortunately the priestess went back to helping the students, leaving her free to focus on her duty. It also let her go back to her morbid thoughts, she could have done without that.

A few minutes later a messenger poked their head into the tent. “Mage Keira is needed in the fort. A mage from the Eldritch Council has arrived and wants to speak to her.”

Nodding, she let him enter and pass his message onto the Regua. There was a whispered back and forth, then the messenger was hurrying back to the keep.

The Regua strode over to her. “We need to go meet this Blue Mage, but I'm giving an order you cannot disobey, even if I tell you too. Do not leave me alone with this mage, not even for a second. And if he starts to order me to kill or injure myself, kill him immediately then keep me from harming myself.”

“Of course, Regua,” she said, her hand going to her pistol. She would not fail him.

Taking a deep breath, the Necromancer smiled. “Let's see what the Council has to say.”

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Necromancer Unmanned will be updated every Tuesday. My other story Doom Valley Prep School will be updated every Monday.

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