Rise of the Dead Prince (47 page)

“So it was a test,” he said, mainly to himself. Raven’s mother cawed a few notes of musical laug
hter.

“A test you passed perfectly, Meier,” she said, “as I knew you would.” Meier chuckled at the words of the white r
aven.

“You really do know everything worth knowing, don’t you?” he asked in jest. Both ladies lau
ghed.

“No, of course not
…
but we ravens make good guesses, Meier,” she said with a brush across his ear. It was the equivalent of a kiss on the c
heek.

“Fair enough,” he conceded happily. “So what do I do? Kuvali, can you bring me back?” he asked. She laughed again music
ally.

“A simple reply, you live and I die,” she said merrily. Meier was shocked and horri
fied.

“In that case, I refuse. I will not trade my life for another!” he said fi
rmly.

“That’s why you deserve it. It’s my right to reserve it. For one such as you, so noble and true,” she answered with the same firm
ness.

“Kuvali, please think about this. I really don’t want to come back at such a cost,” he said. She ignored him. Rather, she began to hum a lullaby, one of her own composition. It was both soothing and excruciatingly beautiful. So he had heard one of her songs at
last.

“In my final hour, I give you my power, I’d trust to no other. Send my love to my brother.” Meier began to feel a light sensation a
gain.

“She’s taking you back, Meier. Just accept it gracefully. It’s her choice,” said Raven’s mother. Meier sighed but then remembered her req
uest.

“Who is her brother? I will scour the world to find him if need to. This I swear!” he said honestly. The white raven lau
ghed.

“I think you know who he is. He gave his power to Kuvali, and he has lived ever since in waiting for you. Can you not guess?” Meier felt a tear in his
eyes.

“Crocus,” he said plainly. “I will tell him, Kuvali. I am honored to d
o it.”

With that, the pasture began to fade. His family began to move normally again. Assur smiled at his parents. “Looks like you aren’t ready yet, little brother,” he said merrily with a pat on Meier’s back. Mira quickly hugged and kissed him. Wold gave him a firm
hug.

“See you soon, son. Live
well.”

Meier woke up with a merciless, cracking headache. Despite this, he looked up at Kuvali, who was pouring her energy into his chest, even as she was fading. She was feeding him the monstrous power of her brother, daughter, and herself. It blended with his own, creating an incredible rushing sensation unlike anything Meier had ever felt, rivaling even the borrowed power given by proximity to the source. As her power dwindled and emptied into Meier, Kuvali started to devolve into madness. She started to laugh madly and cry again. It was a heart-wrenching thing to witness for the three men. Meanwhile, Suvira seemed to be stir
ring.

Meier quickly realized that Kuvali had been either unwilling or unable to save her. Suvira was clearly in pain. It was enough to make him feel a pity strong enough to ease her suffering. As if reading the thought, Kuvali held up a hand to stop him, even as he stood up. He could see it in her face that the last minute had come for both of
them.

“Please leave her be. Her place is with me,” said Kuvali, shaking as she fought her convulsions and inner rantings. “The time has come at last, to answer for her past,” she said somberly. The three men stood in silence. They knew it was true, even as they watched her groaning in agony. Meier felt the power flowing through him. He found that he was glowing with white light. It was hard to control, but he managed to force it down. He had done so far more easily than Kuvali had. In that moment, he realized that he was meant to have it. It all made sense. He had never wanted or lusted for power, and this was the reason that he had been given it, be it by the act of one enlightened soul, or else the universe itself. Or so Raven’s mother would have said. He felt her nip his ear again, reaching across worlds. He knew what he had to do. The line must be drawn. Meier made a solemn vow, clenching his remade left fist as he
did.

“I will neither abuse nor waste this power.” All present bore wit
ness.

“All that remains is one final thing, a parting song that I must now sing,” she breathed heavily, her eyes darting wildly. “I saved enough power, for one final shower
…
The source must be free, and ever must be
…
Let Lovo cower,
as I topple his tower!”
She stood up, drenched in sweat and heaving. The three men knew it was time to l
eave.

“Thank you, Kuvali. True peace awaits. There is no madness where you go.
Es ist
ein Ort, frei von leid,
” said Meier softly using what he had learned from her. “Until we meet again,
Auf wiedersehen
.” He offered her a final rhyme. The ground began to shake. Kuvali stepped into the source but did not wail. With a final smile, she looked at M
eier.

“I waited so long
…
to remember your song,” she said, even as the power began to tear her apart. The men headed for the door as the tower began to crumble around them. They heard one last thing, a thing they would never forget as long as they lived. Suvira quietly reached for the light and said one
word.

“Mama
…
”

The men fled the tower, tears in their eyes. The final word of the necromancer quietly inscribed itself into their hearts. It was the last thing that Kuvali heard. She met her death with a smile on her
face.

Meier, Dor, and Trent found that they were running as quickly as they could. When Lovo’s tower came down, it did so violently, scattering shards of black glass and stone in all directions. The men had not been quite quick enough to get free from the blast area. Using his newfound power, Meier effortlessly shielded the three of them in warm light. Anything that touched them changed to white marble or alabaster then crumbled. It must have been the result of what Meier was thinking at the
time.

56
The Rise of the Dead Prince

T
he flash was seen by two hundred thousand weary souls in the two countries. Many were fleeing, others in hiding, others were entrenched in the many keeps and outposts that had attracted so many seeking safety. The golden wave hit them with a warmth and sense of peace that let them know one thing. The nightmare was over. They knew it as surely as they knew that their next breath would follow the
last.

Those that had been besieged or in a state of perpetual fighting watched as the dead fell to dust. The
strigoi
that had never made their way south sizzled and hissed, finally bursting into flames and becoming ashes. The bonewalkers evaporated in a swirl of bone ash. Thousands upon thousands of cheers went out in unison, like one colossal choir of fervent voices. Four hundred thousand souls had been laid to rest. Innumerable families called out across the green pasture, suddenly reunited. There was no celebration, for such a word could never sufficiently describe the jubilation that rang out across the land. The weary took their rest only when their voices could no longer laugh or sing. It was the revelry of the living. They had
surv
ived.

The hardships of rebuilding a nation were on the minds of none. The thirsty drank from the rivers that had been too perilous to visit; the hungry harvested fields that had once been overrun with the dead. The homesick set out for their homes without fear. Many new families had been formed among the survivors. Many new lifelong friends had been made, having endured great tribulations toge
ther.

Every soldier in Targov worked happily, casting away their defenses and opening the gates to the castle without fear. Every cask of ale was tapped, and these lasted only until the evacuees retu
rned.

Behren hugged his daughter. The stoic man cried tears of joy. It was something she had never
seen.

The grief for departed loved ones lost some of its sting. There was a smile on every face that would not seem to fade. Not a single man or woman had been lost in the keep of Targov. Scrap metal was all that was left of the massive army. It would take weeks and weeks to clear away. The blacksmiths looked on greedily, seeing years of horseshoes and armor in the h
eaps.

As for salvaging the crude armaments, that was of course out the question. It went without saying that every family in Valahia would soon have far better. The farmers took throngs of volunteers home to set things right and get the next crop rolling in. For every person looking to return to their trade, there were always at least five people to help them. Targov was going to be bigger than ever. Gold seemed to have been temporarily forgotten as a form of currency. Every belly was full, and there was a bed for everybody. There was a house for any who wanted one. Even the greediest soul was sated, suddenly appreciating the value of one’s own life as the greatest possession. Riders went out across the land, looking for any in need. Targov began to fill again. Other great towns sprung into life as well, attracting many who now had a far greater respect for the safety found in num
bers.

It was on the second day after the miracle that they arrived in Targov. The hail went out from over a mile away. Targov was soon in an uproar. They saw twenty-two men and one woman. They also saw a large black horse that could never have been mistaken for another. Riders came out at once to greet the weary travelers. Allie’s golden armor was glinting for all to see. She too could never have been mistaken for any o
ther.

A renewed celebration exploded in Targov, giving the entourage a hero’s welcome. Allie walked along beside Dias, who was busy dragging a litter behind him. The skirmisher that Allie saved, a young man named Dane, leaned over to Bain and said, “I told you so,” jesti
ngly.

The big man wrapped his burly arm jokingly around the lad’s neck in response. Allie, covered in dings and dents, had immediately earned the respect of the Karavunians. All it had taken was the mention of Meier’s name to get her smiling. She beamed at them as they told her their story, mostly regarding Meier and his part in their change of heart regarding Valahians. Oh, and did she know Meier? They had asked. Without guile, she laconically reported that she was in love with him. So yes, she knew him. What a small world it
was.

As for Dias, he had taken some damage. Some of it was fairly serious, possibly fatal to any other horse. Allie had run out of herbs to stop the bleeding from his many cuts. Then she met the Karavunians, and after a brief conversation and her offer of help with the wounded man, they provided her with more medicine from Terimus’s pouch. It was enough to close everything up on Dias that was blee
ding.

When the twenty-three arrived in Targov, people scrambled to find flowers to toss in their path. The second Ian heard of the arrival, he was on a horse and at her side. Sliding out of the saddle, he embraced her fondly, not caring if the act was indiscreet. Allie was not offended. Once inside the courtyard, the fanfare died out. Ian got Lotho to the surgeon without bothering to ask who he was. He could tell they were Karavunian when he first saw them, and once Lotho had been carried to bed, the conversation happened. They told Ian about their time with Meier. Ian lau
ghed.

“That sounds like him,” he admitted. He invited them all into his hall, seeing that they received the royal treatment he felt was owed them. The subject came up that Lotho was the king of Karavunia or whatever was left of it. Ian si
ghed.

“There is a matter I must discuss with him once he is well
…
no, with
all
of you,” he said carefully. He found that his hand was shaking. Strafer Jax walked up to
him.

“Fought you at Milco River. Water under the bridge. Thanks to Meier,” he said tersely then held out his hand. Ian took it. They smiled. The other Karavunians seemed to feel the same way. There was a sudden ruckus on the upper level of the hall. The surgeon was fussing rather vehemently. It was soon clear why. Lotho was hobbling along, his bare chest wrapped with several yards of bandage. When he got to the stairs, he stopped, contemplating the journey down
ward.

“I wonder why I bothered to stitch you at all! Go on, rip them up, see if I care!” yelled the elderly surgeon. Lotho laughed weakly at the old grandfa
ther.

“I already told you. I heal better on my feet. Besides, I’m being
careful,
” said Lotho emphatically. One step at a time, Lotho worked his way down the st
airs.

“How is he?” Ian asked the surgeon. The old man sco
ffed.

“He’ll have one nasty scar, having waited so long to get good treatment. Opened him up, cleaned him out, stitched him up good and proper, only to sit here and watch him mess it all up. I swear, Ian, I—” he said, but was cut
off.

“All right, that’s enough,” said Ian, laughing. The surgeon threw his hands up and departed in a
huff.

Lotho found his way to the bottom of the stairs at last. What he saw surprised him. Ian was bowing low and deeply. He stayed this way until Lotho s
poke.

“Some king
you
are,” he quipped. The other Karavunians looked shocked. Ian lifted his head, saw the look in Lotho’s eyes, and started smi
ling.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” he admitted. Lotho laughed loudly and hone
stly.

“I
know
how you feel,” he said, fully meaning it. It would be safe to say that the two were instant friends. They shook hands firmly, and that was that. The unspoken treaty was presented, signed, and ratified with one handshake. The rest was technicality. Bad blood was forgotten in the wake of a new
age.

Rumors abounded as the revelry went on. Many speculated on the source of the miracle. There were two major schools of thought among those in Targov. There were those who thought it was Meier that had saved them, and there were those who were
sure
it had been him. Some even claimed to have seen an image of Meier, with his arms raised, pop into their heads as the golden wave hit them. There was one, however, who had seen it all clearly. He chose the arrival of Allie as the catalyst for his emergence from his
room.

The old man had been smiling for two days straight. Allie met him halfway, mere minutes after she had shed the damaged armor of Queen Mira. She saw Crocus doddering noiselessly forward in his robe and then charged. Crocus’s eyes grew wide as she closed the distance. He was too old to be tackled. She stopped at the last second and then collided with him in a violent hug that nearly broke his old ribs. Allie looked up at him, smiling ingenuo
usly.

“Oh, Crocus! He did it!” she practically yelled at him. Crocus nodded lig
htly.

“Yes, he did, dear girl. Yes, he did
…
but there is something you need to know,” he said solemnly. Allie’s smile f
aded.

“What do you mean?” Her heart began to sink, thinking immediately of the worst. She had felt the golden wave perhaps harder than anyone else. It was a silently sorrowful thing, even as the joy washed over it. It had felt like a goodbye. Crocus knew better than to delay any fur
ther.

“He’s coming home!” the old man yelled, laughing. Allie growled loudly and pounded his shoulder fi
rmly.

“I hate you! Of all the cruel, insensitive pranks! You are
evil!”
she railed at him. Her smile soon returned as the news sank in. “
YES
!” she sang out at the top of her lungs. Crocus rubbed his deservedly sore shoulder and laughed with her for a while. They hugged each other at least three times before they went to the hall to see Ian. They found the Karavunians, along with Quickspear, Behren, and a few others all sitting at the great table and swapping stories. They could have gone on for hours, but once Allie arrived, there was only one story Ian wanted to hear. The Karavunians, for their part, were silent as well. It was a story they didn’t know either, the mystery of which had been deepened by the reception they had received upon arriving in Targov. Quickspear, being who he was, got up to meet her and offer the seat beside Ian to
her.

“Y’gat a lot ah starry to tell!” he declared happily, touching her lightly on the shoulder in a familiar manner. She gave him another icy glare that made him let go at once and put up his hands in a gesture of surrender. He even took a step backward. The air was cleared when she laughed at him and then gave him a full hug in his armor. “We tha y’died, garl. We tha f’sartin,” he said affectionately, giving her a gentle pat on the back. Taking her seat, Ian looked over expectantly and covered her small hand with his for a brief moment. He was smiling so widely that his eyes were cl
osed.

“Quickspear is right,” he said. “We saw you swarmed
…
” Allie looked around and took a deep breath followed by a sigh. Words were escaping
her.

“I don’t know, Ian. Maybe Dane could tell it better than I can. Where is he, anyway?” she asked with another quick glance around the hall. Ian looked to Behren questioningly, but the captain made general just shrugged. It was actually Quickspear that snapped his fingers and chime
d in.

“He’s wit’ his fam’ly,” he said, having seen him being kissed copiously by several people before being dragged away. Ian looked back to Allie. She sighed a
gain.

“All right then,” she said in resigna
tion.

“We got lucky, Ian. That’s all there is to it,” Allie said tersely. The hall was filled with groans and sc
offs.

“Ahh, not so fast,” said Lotho, grabbing his side. “You’re sounding like Strafer over here!” he said, raising his glass to Jax. Strafer just nodded in acknowledgment then gave a nod to Allie. He had grown especially fond of the girl, not that anyone could have known it. She wasn’t a waster of words, nor was she a braggart. He liked that. It wasn’t a sentiment kept only by him. The other men had taken to her as well. Even Bain, normally distrustful of everyone, had come to think of her as something of a headstrong daughter. Namely, she was the kind that didn’t need saving, but she made him want to crush anything that would hurt her all the same. In any case, the men were completely and thoroughly dissatisfied with her story. She went on, if only to stop their goa
ding.

“So the last thing you saw had to have been me pulling Dane up. Right so far?” she asked rhetorically. Ian and Quickspear nodded. She sighed again, looking for the easiest way out of it. “Well after that, the three of us were covered in soldiers. I yelled to Dias, and he jumped and reared. He didn’t care how heavy they were, so off they flew. I knew running away was no use, so we charged straight into the ranks. After a few strides, Dias was at full speed, or at least the best he could manage. I cleared them on either side, and Dias took the front. Dane barely held on. It was a bumpy ride, Ian. Dias got cut up pretty bad on his forelegs, but I managed to keep them off his sides. It was a long thick line of them, but they started to get out of the way after we trampled a few dozen of them under hoof. Once we broke through the other side, there were a few idiots that thought they could get us. Dias broke them for their trouble, while I stabbed and managed to take a few arms off. They were weak around the shoulder joint, but I’m sure you all figured that out once they got here. Anyway, they forgot about us after that and kept running north to Targov. So there you go. I patched Dias up, met these Karavunian jokers, and they can tell the rest. Good enough for you?” she asked, looking for dissenters with her iciest g
lare.

The men around her looked at each other, nodding lightly. If anyone was dissatisfied, they dared not to show it. A voice rang
out.