Rage was not something Aleksandar was used to. He didn't even like getting angry. However, since coming to the cursed fort, he was becoming well acquainted with the feeling. But he hadn't felt the fiery emotion that made his hands shake and his throat tight, since he'd been a child.

“General Ajani, what were you thinking, sending Mage Keira and Mage Von to Crystele Fleche?” he demanded.

“I was thinking only of how to save 800,000 people,” the General replied, far too coolly for his liking. “Mage Keira will ensure they're able to continue fighting and survive until they can be relieved. Mage Von will keep her in line and working for the Council.”

“We had a plan to resupply them. There was no reason to send Mage Keira to the city. We have no idea what he'll do so far from Council control.”

“With all due respect, Mage Aleksandar, that plan is a pipe dream. There is no way the Council can resupply the city from the sea. They knew it, and you know it. The only possibility of saving Crystele Fleche is if we march there.”

“And how will you do it without the Necromancer?”

“We've got three mages who can raise the dead, they're going to teach the rest of the students. It's not going to be easy, but I'll make it work.”

“The Council won't support you.”

For the first time Aleksandar saw the General smile. It wasn't a pleasant smile. It was the smile of a cat looking at a mouse. “Yes they will. You need the Necromancer under your control. You can't let her build an army with a city behind her, without getting involved. An army of the dead, with almost a million people who can build weapons and airships, is a powerful force. If they know you've abandoned them, how do you think they'll react? If they survive the demons, make contact with the refugees who are still alive on the islands, the mountains and, along the coast, who have lost all faith with the Council, they'll quickly gain allies. The Council can't risk it.”

“You don't even know if she's still alive. From what I understand she was dying as they loaded her onto the airship.”

“She was badly injured, Mage Von and Mage Mette were working on her as the airship departed. Von will pass on word when we know how the Necromancer is doing.”

“And what of the assassin? Why did he shoot her?” Aleksandar hoped there would be a good answer for this. He'd already had some of the Lleial muttering darkly as he walked past, with looks that made him want to cast a shield spell. The fanatics had made no secret of their distrust of him, but they'd never made him worry about his safety.

“Mirek was the former lover of the body that Mage Keira took over. What he thought he was doing when he shot her is anyone's guess. He killed himself less than a minute afterwards. We'd need a necromancer to learn anything from him.”

“Damn!” The curse caught him by surprise. Like the rage he was feeling, he hadn't sworn since he was a young boy. Still, the situation was appropriate. If they could have captured the assassin alive, they could turn him over to the Lleial for questioning, and prove it was the act of a madman. With him dead, at least some people would think the Council was behind it.

General Ajani nodded. “I've already talked to all my officers. They're passing around the word that Mage Keira is still alive, and that this was the act of a single individual. There are also rumours going around that come spring we will be marching to Crystele Fleche to meet the Necromancer and his new army. I'll be confirming that rumour tonight.”

“This fait accompli of yours, could be considered mutiny. You're deciding the spring offensive without orders, and you know how the Council is leaning.”

“And if I don't, we'll see the Lleial, and a large part of the living army coming for your head. They might spare mine, but I don't know if I'll be able to effectively control them afterwards. So contact the Council and let them know what's going on. Then, if you really want to keep the Council in control of the situation, you'll be standing by my side at six this evening, backing me to the hilt.”

For all the power the Council had, Aleksandar realized that in this place, his position was as weak as sand. A single wrong move and he would be just one more casualty in a war that had already seen tens of millions killed and forgotten. He could refuse, rally what forces were loyal to the Council and make a stand. With the mages supporting him, they would have a chance, but it was a slim chance. And he was no leader, merely a scholar. The only reason he was in this position was that he was expendable.

Looking in the General's eyes, he knew what would happen if he refused to support the plan, at least for now. The rage he'd been feeling died down, replaced by bitterly cold fear.

“I'll be there,” he said, his voice low and weak.

Despite the lack of windows and being at least twelve stories up, General Abanda could still hear the cheers and music coming from the city streets. The arrival of his expeditionary army and the steel fleet in the city, with their wondrous new weapons, twenty thousand fresh fighting men, and over a thousand mages, had given the city, and the entire continent it's first reason to celebrate in over a year. He wondered if they would still be celebrating if they knew it was unlikely any more reinforcements would be coming.

His second in command, Water Mage Imamu Jecha sat in one of the exquisitely made chairs, patiently waiting to see the Eldritch Council. Abanda wished he could be so patient. But his mind was racing, just like it had from the day he'd been given command of the expiditionary force. He still remembered leaving the continent over a year ago with the remnants of a shattered force of what had once been his proud army. That army had numbered over three-hundred-thousand men when it arrived in Erebu, one of twenty such forces. It had been whittled away to barely fifty-thousand over two years of fighting, and that had been with a steady stream of reinforcements until the final, bitter withdrawal over the Shield Mountains.

To be back on the continent of blood and horror, he wasn't sure how to feel. If fighting had to be done, it was best to do it as far from home as possible. And after a decade of genocidal war, what was left of the Council soldiers were some of the hardest men he'd ever met. The weak ones had died, fled, or were in penal companies.

But the Demons had firm grip on the continent. He'd seen them cover the land as far as he could see, and when they'd killed all the ones they could see, more had come. He still saw the things in his nightmares. He heard their shrieks, saw them swamping fortifications in minutes, that would have taken humans weeks to overcome. He still dreamed of them slaughtering fleeing refugees and soldiers like they were rats.

He did not want to be back on the continent. He could feel it in his bones that this time he would not be returning home.

The large ornate doors of the meeting room opened. A servant in black silk robes stepped out and bowed low. “They are ready to see you now, General Abanda, Water Mage Jecha.”

Walking into the Council meeting room, Abanda was struck by the riches that filled it. The walls were made of obsidian, jade, gold, and silver, each one showing a scene from the history of the Eldritch Council, starting with the creation of the Council after the War of the Dead. Another wall showed the completion of Kefalaio, built on the ruins of Limani, as proof that the Necromancer's evil could be overcome. A third wall was to commemorate the signing of The Great Peace a hundred-fifty years ago, which had made large scale war a memory on the continent.

He didn't have much time to look at the art, his eyes were drawn to the Council members that awaited him. The three were dressed in the blood red robes showing they were the highest level of mages. He began to bow, when he realized there was a fourth woman sitting in the corner of the room. She was ancient, hunched over in her chair, wrinkles covered her face, yet her eyes were a piercing green that seemed to see right through him. It was The Lady, First Among Equals.

Abanda almost stopped his bow in shock. The Lady was seldom seen by anyone who wasn't at the head of the Council. When she spoke, her word was law on the continent. Even outside of Council territory, leaders considered her words carefully. There was no one else in the world as powerful as she was when it came to healing magic, and no one could truly say how old she was.

Training allowed him to keep his composure. Rising from his bow, he held out an envelope. “Thank you for agreeing to see me. I have a letter from Grand General Ekon, of the Alkebulan Alliance, detailing my orders to assist you in defeating the Demons.”

The servant who had invited him in came forward, his head bowed to take the envelope.

“It is good to see our allies have not given up hope in our fight,” the woman in the centre said. Like her companions she had a veil covering her face, a sign of humbleness and devotion to the Council above herself. “We are a little surprised that you have come at this time. The Bitter Sea in winter is hardly an ideal time to travel.”

“With our steel ships, the currents are of little danger,” he said. “As for why we came, I have been ordered to speak clearly. Two months ago, we sensed a large necromantic ritual take place on the continent. Our diplomats have been unable to get a clear answer on what happened. We are hoping that you will be more forthcoming now that we have once again come to your assistance.”

Before setting sail, he'd been given the message to ask. It was blunt and some of the diplomats had practically torn their hair out when they heard it, but the Grand General wanted answers. If the Council wanted support, they needed to provide answers.

“That is reasonable,” the woman said. “We were hoping to keep it quiet until the spring, however rumours have been spreading like wildfire. The Necromancer Keir has been resurrected after three-hundred years, as a young woman. She is now going by Mage Keira and is working with the Eldritch Council to fight the Demons that plague our lands. With our combined forces, we have already cleared a sizable region around the city of Kodor.”

That the Necromancer had been revived had been a possibility, yet Abanda had not quite been able to believe it. The idea of resurrection was a story told to children and the gullible. Hearing it confirmed directly from one of the highest leaders on the continent was not what he had expected.

“That is remarkable news. Would it be possible to meet her? My leaders will be most interested to learn more about her.” he said.

“Unfortunately no. A month ago, Crystele Fleche, a city we had thought was lost two years ago was able to contact us with an airship. They are besieged but holding strong. With the mountain passes secure, the Council agreed to send Mage Keira to the city alongside one of our most trusted mages to help defend the city. They are on their way there now.”

“Mage Keira is strong enough to help the city on her own?”

“With support, she is quite powerful. And after all the death we have seen, the Council could not leave a city of eight-hundred-thousand perish without doing everything we possibly can. So we are planning a new offensive as soon as the pass is clear to march from Kodor to Crystele Fleche.”

Abanda was astonished. A year ago, the Council had been worried about holding the passes. Now they were planning on attacking the Demons. He wasn't sure where this Crystele city was, but if it had been besieged for two years it had to be hundreds, possibly a thousand miles, from the Shield Mountains. No one but a mad man had even contemplated an offensive of that size in the last six years.

The Council member continued. “With your new weapons, you will be able to provide a very welcome assistance to this offensive. Alongside our own soldiers, airships, and the undead army that has been created, we are very confident we can lift the siege and regain valuable territory from the Demons. So we are officially requesting your assistance in this matter.”

Bringing his right hand to his heart, Abanda said, “I will need to ask my superiors, this is a little beyond what they had planned for the expeditionary force. However I am confident they will agree to this. We have lost too many sons and daughters to the Demons to refuse a chance to begin balancing the scales.”

Sneaking a glance to The Lady, he was surprised to see that her expression had not changed at all. He would have expected to at least see a sign of happiness or relief at his words. He wondered how much he wasn't being told.

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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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