The Journeys of a Different Necromancer Read Online Free PDF Page A

risen he had created for King Mathis of the house
of Regis. They were his, Thomas’s army. The wind blew his hair
across his face. Thomas realized the king cared nothing for people
like Hazel. Cared nothing for the kind and loving in the world.
Mathis only cared for how much land, how much gold, and how many
more people he could subjugate; these were his only
concerns.
    After leaving the audience hall, Thomas had returned to the
kitchens to retrieve Hazel’s remains and to warn the servants to
leave quietly and immediately. He turned to look at the blanket
wrapped body on the mule bought for the purpose of carrying her
back to his home to be buried with the only other who ever meant
anything to him. He thought of Xavier’s views on people and decided
he agreed, to an extent. However, perhaps Xavier never experienced
love.
    He looked back at his army.
    “ Kill the king and princess,” he commanded. “Kill all in the
castle.”
    * * *
*
    He buried Hazel next to Xavier. There lay both his teachers he
had learned so much from. From Xavier, he learned about death, but
from Hazel, about love and life with all its veraciousness. He
would not bring her back, risen; she would not have her spirit for
life. She would not want that life. The life he knew to give. There
would never be the glint in her eyes when she laughed. Indeed, she
would never laugh again.
    Upon visiting Targon, he realized it was not the dreamed of
city of his youth. The sea to the west would be
different.
     
     
     

Part Three
     
     
     
A Dragon
     
    “ The dragon has returned!”
    Thomas heard these words at the city gates he now stood
between. Placing his hand on the left one, he regarded its
construction: thick, sturdy timber bound tightly by heavy, black
iron bands held with large spikes. Although they had stood a long
time, he knew from his studies in Xavier’s tower that they had kept
out a few armies. He ran his fingers along the grain. These gates
guarded the city, which in itself stood as an entry to the road
through the Bluet Mountains, and beyond them the sea in the
west.
    “ The queen’ll take care of it again.”
    “ Killed a thousand men in Tisel, they say.”
    Thomas walked the streets and he heard this all over. Unless
this dragon attacked tonight, he would deal with this in the
morning. Right now, he needed rest from the two weeks spent getting
here. Beside which, he knew some about dragons and doubted it would
be able to kill a thousand men. He located an inn by the name of
The Blue Hound. There he found the same talk in the common room as
well. The only other thing he heard was the calling out of “More
ale!” to the very busy barmaids. News of this return obviously did
not keep the people from drinking.
    The bluish haze of the pipe smoke filling the common room
irritated Thomas’s throat and he coughed. He rubbed his eyes which
itched and burned, both from the smoke and sleeping on the ground
for the past weeks. He couldn’t concentrate nor hear with the loud
din caused by the patrons and just wanted the solitude of a quiet
room. A red-haired boy of maybe twelve showed him up the stairs and
down a hall.
    “ Now don’t you worry about no dragon, m’lord,” said the boy as
he placed the key in the lock of the door he’d led Thomas to. “I’m
bettin’ most of these rumors are just the idle talk of people who
love gossip.” He handed the necromancer the key. “Last year, one of
the miners swore for a week he saw a man-eating giant serpent in
the mines. More than a few steins of ale were bought while he told
his story over and over. Turned out his friends put a grass-snake
down there to frighten him.
    “ Now then, ’ere’s yer room, judging by the color of yer eyes,
I’d say you want sleep. So I’ll take me leave.”
    Thomas smiled at the young lad. “I’ll take your side in that
bet, boy.” He shook his head. “Lightning from its eyes.”
    The boy left, tossing the silver piece Thomas had given
him.
    Thomas sat on