Age of the Undead, page 23
part #1 of Zombicide Black Plague Series
“You will find the master below,” the tower’s chief steward interrupted to tell Hulmul. The dour-faced man looked about at the celebrants around them and lowered his voice. “He has been supervising the moat’s pump almost from the moment you left. He will be most relieved to see that you’ve returned.”
“I’ve had enough of cellars and dungeons,” Drahoslav said. “You see to getting the wizard his book.” The duelist plucked at his stained vestments. “For myself, I’m going to find a bath and someone to wash my clothes.” He started off through the crowd, disentangling himself from those who tried to thank him for his heroics.
“I think I’ll go with you, Hulmul,” Helchen said, surprising him. “I’d like to see if getting that tome was worth the price.” He’d only partly believed her when she expressed regret for destroying the things in the vault. Now he understood that she was sincere, and not merely because she’d be held responsible by the Order when everything was over.
“We’d like to tag along too,” Gaiseric informed Hulmul. The thief slapped his hand on Ratbag’s chest. The orc attempted a poor approximation of a human smile as he nodded his head.
“Been noodlin’ der darb’z gonna pony up der kale,” Ratbag chuckled in a show of yellowed fangs.
Gaiseric shifted uncomfortably when the orc spoke. “Yeah… well… there’s that too. We were thinking Vasilescu might show his gratitude in a more substantive way.”
“Der goodz,” Ratbag emphasized.
Hulmul looked them both over and shook his head. “I’d think having a safe haven from the zombies would be reward enough,” he told them, making little effort to hide the disappointment in his voice. When he saw his disapproval didn’t faze the pair, Hulmul added something that did. “Even if Vasilescu does pay you, where are you going to spend it?”
Gaiseric and Ratbag looked dumbfounded, as though they hadn’t considered that facet of their avarice. The wizard felt some satisfaction seeing them nonplussed by so obvious a flaw in their scheme.
Hulmul turned to find Alaric talking with Helchen. He caught only one word of their subdued exchange. Witchmark. He imagined it was something to do with helping Alaric overcome Gogol. A witchmark was something the Order often used to render a necromancer helpless so they might stand trial.
As he walked over to the pair, the knight gave Hulmul an apologetic look. “I’m going to stay up here,” he said, then glanced quickly at the witch hunter, “and there’s no use trying to change my mind.” He gestured to the other side of the room where Ursola was draining flagons of ale as quickly as they were brought to her. “She has the right idea. Enjoy what you can, while you can.”
The wizard didn’t like Alaric’s tone. He caught the knight’s arm. “I’d think that you of all people would want to see this through.” He thought for a moment, then added in a tone that was almost reverential, “You’re our leader.”
Alaric shook him off. “I didn’t ask for that, and I don’t want it.” There was bitterness in his eyes as he turned away. “Find someone worth following if you have to, but let me be for now.” He grabbed a bottle of wine from a passing servant and vanished into the crowd.
“It isn’t you,” Helchen told Hulmul. “I tried to talk sense to him, but he won’t listen. He blames himself for letting Gogol get away. For failing to avenge his family.”
“But it isn’t his fault,” Hulmul said. “He did everything he could.” The wizard tapped Kramm’s book. “We went out to get this, not hunt necromancers. He succeeded in what needed to be done.”
“Give him time,” Helchen suggested. “Right now, all he can think about is what he failed to do.” She pointed at the alchemist’s folio. “We’d better get that to your mentor. The sooner he has it, the quicker he can bolster this place’s defenses.”
The subtle reproach in her voice was a reminder to Hulmul that he was confusing his priorities. He’d just reprimanded Alaric for not seeing things through, yet here he was doing the same. “Of course,” Hulmul said. “Let’s get the book to Vasilescu.” He nodded to the chief steward. “Take us to the master.”
Once again, they were led down into the foundations of the tower and into the vast vault. Each passing moment set Hulmul’s nerves on edge. Alaric wasn’t the only one who could torture himself with his own thoughts, and now the wizard was berating himself for allowing even the slightest delay upon returning to the tower. He knew enough about the vagaries and inconstancy of magic. A spell that had performed a certain way a hundred times might suddenly become capricious and behave differently on its hundred and first casting. There were no absolutes with magic, only educated estimations. What was alchemy except magic distilled into physical state and bottled for later use? The system that fed the moat might even now be failing and he’d wasted time!
The wizard’s sense of alarm only mounted when they passed the grisly collection of zombies Vasilescu had collected for study. Hulmul couldn’t keep his eyes from fixating on the enormous rat-beast. It looked more menacing than the abomination Gogol had set upon them in the temple-fort. He could only imagine the nightmarish power this ratbomination had possessed when it had still been animated by dark magic.
The collection had been expanded during their absence, or else materials had been brought from some other part of the vault. Hulmul certainly hadn’t seen the jar-laden rack that stood near the cases before. Each vessel was filled with a greenish liquid and contained some necrotic piece of human anatomy. When he saw the faint stirrings of animation each portion retained, the wizard realized he was looking at a vivisected zombie. The mixture in the jars was enabling the segments to retain their activity even away from brain and heart. He shivered when he saw the eyes in a severed head open and glare at him. The decayed jaws snapped at the glass, trying to sink their teeth in his flesh. Sickened, Hulmul turned from the awful sight. He was ready to find his mentor and leave this morbid menagerie.
Vasilescu was seated at a table only a short distance away, keen in the study of papers laid out before him. Hulmul was surprised to see that they were drawings, autopsy sketches of the verminous monstrosity in the glass coffin. The elder wizard looked up and smiled when he saw his visitors.
“You made it!” Vasilescu beamed, coming around from behind the table. “I’ll confess I made auguries after you left and the omens were dire.” His laughter echoed through the cellar. “But I never gave up hope that you’d succeed.” He arched an eyebrow and stared at Hulmul. “You have succeeded?”
Before Hulmul could answer, Helchen stepped forward. “We were given the impression you were supervising the apparatus for the moat, not down here playing with monsters.” Hulmul winced at the accusation in her tone.
Vasilescu appeared unsurprised by the witch hunter’s suspicions. “Trust comes hard to someone in your profession, doesn’t it?” He chuckled. “Would it help you to know that not an hour past I was most rigorously engaged in adjusting the mixture? Or would you prefer to think I’ve spent all my time making sketches of this menagerie for some nefarious purpose?” He shook his finger at her. “Whatever I say, you’ll devise some way of twisting it into an admission of guilt, whatever it is you’ve decided I’m guilty of. Your kind is very good at that sort of thing.”
“She meant no offense,” Hulmul spoke up. He was as stunned as Vasilescu when he found himself defending a witch hunter to his own mentor.
“Fortunately, her intimations are of no consequence,” Vasilescu declared. He smiled at Hulmul. “Tell me, did you bring the book?”
Hulmul reached into his robe and brought out the slim folio. Vasilescu nodded his head as he took the volume from his former apprentice.
“The Order is responsible for executing far too many people,” Vasilescu said, glancing across the little group. “But when they hanged Arnault Kramm, they made a serious mistake.”
Chapter Eighteen
“I suppose you’re going to tell us that Arnault Kramm was innocent?” Helchen asked Vasilescu.
The elder wizard leaned back against the edge of his table. “Innocent? Hardly. Kramm was quite the monster, if you want to know.” Vasilescu gestured at the glass coffins with their morbid contents. “More of a monster than any of those, or your orcish friend here,” he added with a nod at Ratbag. The renegade glowered back at the wizard and Gaiseric hastily tried to curb the orc’s annoyance.
“Kramm was a murderer and a fiend,” Vasilescu persisted. “He funded his researches in alchemy by murdering his entire family to gain their wealth.” The elder wizard shook his head and smirked. “It’s quite easy to get away with murder when you’re familiar with poisons so exotic they’re unknown even to the Assassins’ Guild.” He wagged a reproving finger at Helchen. “Your Order never suspected Kramm of that. He only ran afoul of them when he started abducting subjects to conduct his experiments on. A few managed to escape over the years. Commoners were easy enough to ignore, but not a high-ranking courtesan. It was her testimony that set the witch hunters on Kramm’s trail. Their relentlessness drove him into hiding.”
“If he was such a murderous fiend, why do you want his book?” Hulmul wondered. Helchen detected the first trace of uncertainty in the wizard’s voice.
Vasilescu gave his old apprentice a patient look. “Genius always rails against the constraints imposed upon it by society. Kramm sought to penetrate beyond the borders of human understanding, to devise potions and elixirs never imagined before.” The elder wizard caressed the book he’d been given. “If you truly understood what’s in here, you’d be amazed.”
It was Helchen’s turn to smirk. “I’ve looked through it,” she said. She gestured at Hulmul. “We both have. It’s a rather mundane, even dry, treatise on alchemy. Frankly I had my doubts there was anything of value in there. Hulmul was certain you couldn’t be mistaken, and that closer study would reveal what was so important.”
Gaiseric stepped forward, an incredulous look on his face. “You mean the book’s worthless? After all we’ve been through?” The thief’s hands twitched, as though he could feel the reward he’d expected slipping through his fingers.
“Not worthless,” Vasilescu assured Gaiseric. “Not to those who know what to look for.” He turned back to Helchen. “Kramm worked in cipher, but such a cunningly contrived system that the finished text looked like, well, as you say, a dry and unremarkable treatise. He didn’t want any of his revelations being read by those without the proper understanding.”
“A lot of work to conceal alchemical formulae,” Helchen opined. She removed her hat and shifted a stray lock of hair from her forehead. “But I suppose he also detailed the experiments that led him to those findings. A record of abduction and murder.”
Vasilescu bowed his head in recognition of Helchen’s perception. “Indeed, Kramm was most thorough documenting his research. The Order would have been quite interested in this book, had they been able to understand its true contents.”
Hulmul stepped forward, his attitude one of anxiety. Doubt was in his eyes. “How do you know so much about Arnault Kramm?” he asked. His voice was timid, as though frightened by what the answer might be.
Helchen answered for Vasilescu. “It’s because your old mentor was in communication with Kramm before he was arrested.” The witch hunter shifted her hand so that it rested on the hilt of her sword. “Isn’t that so?”
“Quite so, though not so much as an allegation fell on me,” Vasilescu replied. He slapped his hand against the book’s cover. “I numbered Kramm among the few brains keen enough to be considered a colleague.” He glanced over at Hulmul. “You showed promise, at one time, but I discovered there were limitations to how far your abilities could be honed.” He shook his head. “Such a disappointment. You could go as far as I could teach you, but never any farther.”
“What he means is you were too decent to go where he would take you,” Helchen informed the crestfallen Hulmul. “Vasilescu wanted someone as unscrupulous as himself. Someone like Arnault Kramm.”
“Oh no,” Vasilescu laughed. “Kramm was a monster long before I ever spoke to him. My contribution was to develop and refine what was already there. I had to merely point the way. Kramm found the path on his own.”
“A path of evil.” Hulmul looked as though his entire world had suddenly shattered.
Vasilescu stabbed his finger at his former pupil’s chest. “No,” he snarled, anger rising in his voice. “Knowledge is never evil! The uses to which it is put may be good or evil, but knowledge never is. Knowledge is the only pure thing in an impure world!” He rapped his knuckles against the book’s cover. “Would you call the fire that protects this tower evil? It could be used for murder, but it is also responsible for keeping all these people safe. Which aspect defines whether it is a good thing or bad? The mixture that sustains it was discovered by experiments that would have shocked the Order’s torturers and disgusted their sensibilities. And yet without it, we would all be dead.”
Helchen railed at the comparison, as though the Order was on the same level as a sorcerous killer. “We don’t kill indiscriminately,” she told Vasilescu. “Those put to the question…”
“Ah yes, those put to the question are always guilty, aren’t they?” Vasilescu’s voice dripped with scorn. “Ten innocents is a fair exchange for one necromancer, but why stop there? Why not a score? Why not a hundred? After all, if they were so innocent, why did they bring suspicion on themselves? Why did they waste the valuable time of witch hunters?”
“You’ve only to look outside your own walls to see the menace we opposed,” Helchen countered, refusing to show any doubt before the wizard. “How many thousands have already perished because of the necromancers?”
“Ah yes, there is always that scapegoat to justify your cruelties,” Vasilescu said.
“It’s true,” Hulmul interjected. “We saw for ourselves that the zombies, if they weren’t created by necromancers, are at least being controlled by them. There was such a villain who tried to stop us in the Order’s dungeons.”
Vasilescu gave Hulmul a disappointed look. “If you were in those dungeons, did you also see what the Order has done to people who sought knowledge? People like ourselves? Tell me, which is the greater villain?”
“Yer booshwash countin’ der darb ’erez der hayburner?” Ratbag grunted, licking his fangs. The wolf at his side caught the agitation of its master and snarled at Vasilescu.
Gaiseric’s mood was little better than the orc’s. “He wants to know if you’ve been lying to us.”
Vasilescu laughed. “You don’t lie to people who are already deceived. You just let them keep believing what they already think they know.”
“I trusted you.” Hulmul gaped at his old mentor.
Helchen could sympathize with how the wizard felt. It was a horrible thing to learn your teacher wasn’t who they pretended to be. “He used that trust,” Helchen told Hulmul. “Another layer to the veneer of respectability he clad himself in. Tell me, Vasilescu, how deep does your treachery run?”
“Traitor?” Vasilescu rolled the word on his tongue. “I have been true to my loyalty. True to knowledge. That is the only thing any of us should aspire to. The only thing that can free us all from the chains of ignorance and the cruelty of despots.”
“But you lied to us,” Hulmul said. “By your own admission.” He waved at Kramm’s book. “Do you really need that to maintain the moat, or for some other purpose?”
“You spoke of Kramm’s experiments with admiration,” Helchen accused. She unhooked the mace from her belt and slapped it against her palm. “Tell me, Vasilescu, did you copy his methods?” She advanced on the elder wizard, putting him within easy reach. “Did you stoop to murder to pursue your knowledge?”
When Helchen made her move, Ratbag swung around and seized the chief steward. The servant squeaked in fright as the orc wrapped his powerful hand around the man’s throat. “Naht noodlin’ nathin’, goon,” he warned his captive.
Gaiseric had his own sword out, uncertain what to do but determined to be ready for whatever would happen next. It was Hulmul who made one last, futile appeal for calm.
“This is wrong,” he said. “It has to be. He’s opened his tower to the refugees. Gave the people sanctuary.”
“More subjects for his experiments,” Helchen growled, keeping her eyes fixed on Vasilescu. The first hint of conjuring, she’d smash his skull and she could tell that the wizard knew it. “Convenient to have them coming to you instead of you needing to find them.”
Vasilescu smiled at her. It was an arrogant smile. “Subjects?” he scoffed. “Oh, I’m well beyond needing subjects. Living ones, at least.”
“Necromancer.” Helchen spat the word at Vasilescu.
“Your Order has much to be proud of,” Vasilescu told her. “Your paranoia created necromancers where there were none before, forcing wizards to seek protection beyond the unreliable support of the Guild. As your pogrom escalated, simply learning the dark arts wasn’t enough. The necromancers had to come together and find strength in numbers.”
“No!” Hulmul protested. “You can’t be a necromancer!” The younger wizard looked as though he would be sick from the betrayal of such a revelation.
“Knowledge,” Vasilescu told his protege. “It’s the only thing that matters.” He set a withering stare on Helchen. “It’s the only thing that separates us from them. Knowledge is pure. Anything the mind learns can be used for good. Believe that.”
Helchen realized now what Vasilescu was trying to do. Kramm’s book wasn’t enough. He wanted to bring his old pupil back into the fold. “You want to draw him into the same madness as yourself. Teach him to become a necromancer.” Dietrich’s training would have had her think Hulmul would leap at the chance, but she wasn’t surprised to see horror on Hulmul’s face at the idea.
“One of many,” Vasilescu said. He stared at Helchen. “We number more than you could imagine. Your packs of hunters hounded us, so we joined in cabals. In the crypt of Marius the Damned, I’ve seen it! The cabals have harnessed the greatest feat of magic the kingdom has ever seen. The black plague that will reshape the world.” He laughed at Helchen. “All because of your Order, your unreasoning persecution and zealotry.”
