The Accidental Necromancer
Redoubtable Rack

When I returned to Amaranth the next day, I smelled smoke. When I opened the doors, my fears were confirmed. I couldn’t see the flames, because they hadn’t yet reached my tomb, but I knew they were out there. The pyromancer had started a forest fire.

None of my abilities made me any good at fighting forest fires. Xyla hopefully knew to create firebreaks, and she was uniquely well equipped to do so. The trolls probably didn’t want the whole forest to burn down, because that would harm their source of wood. I had to stay calm.

Which meant finishing the job I’d started the day before. I used the ladder to get up and drill high up on the mausoleum, out of reach of anyone not on a ladder. Then I installed cameras and hooked them up to the wifi. From now on, I could monitor the cameras from anywhere on Earth, and in the tomb.

If Xyla wasn’t busy, she’d respond to the sound of the drill, but she didn’t come. I wasn’t surprised. A squirrel showed up, though, and walked right up next to me.

“Nutty?” I asked.

The squirrel hopped up and down, which I decided meant yes. Nutty even followed me back inside the tomb, and stayed by me as I checked to make sure I could monitor the cameras. Now and then, he skipped away, as if hoping I would follow him, and then slowly came back. It took me a while to get the message, as I can get pretty focused on a job, but I got my bag of holding and strapped it to my belt. Everything I could fit in the opening went inside, including the katana, the dagger, and the weed whacker.

And ten bottles of Jack Daniels. All part of my plan.

I wore a short skirt and a snug top. My “extra” was discreetly tucked into my panties.

There were a zillion things that could go wrong with my plan, but I was counting on my ability to teleport out of danger. And if Xyla wanted me helping with the fire instead, I would certainly do that.

At first I thought Nutty was leading me toward the source of the smoke. We got to the same deer trail that led to the rock near the cave and followed it north. But the smoke was east of us. I silently prayed, I wasn’t sure to whom, that Xyla and Gren were safe.

Nutty guided me to the edge of the forest, so that meant I was to go ahead and try to pull off my wild idea. It was my first sight of Amaranth that wasn’t tomb or trees. It was mostly tall grass, with the occasional tree stump, and the landscape had a gentle roll to it, not flat but not quite hills. Further north, there were the silhouettes of more pronounced curves visible against the skyline.

Parts of the United States had probably looked something like this once, before prairie grass gave way to crops that people could eat.

Nutty didn’t seem to want to go any further, but he didn’t scamper off, either. I got out some trail mix and fed him some nuts. He liked the parts that Xyla didn’t, but I really needed to start packing some unsalted nuts. The poor thing was going to have high blood pressure if I kept feeding him this way.

I headed north. According to Gren I’d run into a road eventually. The tall grass wasn’t fun to walk through, especially in a short skirt. Little insects nipped at my legs. Now and then, I stopped to heal myself, killing a stretch of grass around me. If I used Dimension Step, I could avoid some of the bugs but I needed to retain my mana. I wanted to be in peak condition when I got to my destination.

I came to a wide dirt path, that had some wheel ruts in it. Not much of a road, but it had to be what Gren meant. I headed east from there. The long walk had made me sweaty, but at least I wasn’t wearing much, which helped. So far it all looked like the map I had in my notebook, composed under direction from Gren and Xyla.

On the road it was easier going. I saw a few farms, which I tried to avoid for now.

I kept going until I spotted little buildings nestled against a hill. I stopped to take a drink of water and rub some of the sweat off me. I brushed my hair. And then I walked forward, wondering if I was going to do the stupidest thing of my life. I could see what Gren meant about the stench. Any concentration of people without plumbing probably smelled a bit like that. I tried to ignore it.

I had a bottle of Jack Daniels in my hand, and I swished my hips as I approached the first male troll I saw. He was lanky, like the dead one, with a shock of bright orange hair and an even more grotesque nose. A thick gold or brass bracer covered one wrist.

Charm Person, I thought.

You have spent 30 mana and are now at 51/81.

For first use of Charm Person, you earned 1 experience point, and need 859 to become a second level Seductress / Necromancer.

Killing and raising them is more efficient.

Charm Person used up a lot of mana. But the troll grinned at me. “Well hello there!” he said, eying me up and down. “Aren’t you a gorgeous elf girl? Or are you a handsome human?”

“Human,” I said, although I thought gorgeous was better than handsome. “I come with a message and a gift for Gavabar.”

“Uh. Well,” said the troll, shuffling his feet. “There’s been a change around here, I don’t know that they’ll much like Gavabar receiving visitors.”

“Really?” I asked, getting closer. “Are you sure you can’t do something about that?”

“We’d have to talk to Varek,” he told me. “He’s in charge at the moment.”

Not Baradzem. Interesting. So did that mean the pyromancer was dead, or that he was out in the woods causing trouble? There was so much I didn’t know, but what I did know was that Xyla had told the squirrel to guide me to where I could get to the village from the west, so I seemed to be coming from the direction of the elves, rather than from the forest, which meant she wanted me to go ahead with my plan. Varek was one of the four who had taken over the village and sidelined its chief, Gren’s father.

“Well then,” I said, “Take me to Varek, and I’ll talk to him, but my gift is strictly for the chief. If I’m not sure he’s free, I can’t share my special beer with everyone.”

He looked at the bottle. “Special beer,” he repeated.

“Strictly for the chief to decide who gets some,” I said. “And if we establish good relations, there will be more.” I grinned at him.

“That sounds grand, gracious girl,” he said. “I’ll take you to Varek.”

“If the prince thinks anyone but Gavabar is in charge here, he probably won’t send any more special beer,” I said. “But yes, take me to Varek. Where is Gavabar, anyway?”

What prince?

The one I made up, but I couldn’t talk to Enash now. The troll glanced toward one of the several buildings. They were mostly of wooden construction, with thatched roofs, and the wood was rotting in places. I could see why the trolls had a pressing need for lumber. At one side of the village, a new building was being constructed, with fresh, healthy wood. “I’m not supposed to tell you where,” he said.

“I won’t tell,” I whispered to him, brushing a breast against his arm. I was pretty sure I already knew, but I didn’t think it hurt to be sure.

“Well, that one over there,” he said. “What’s your name, beautiful, uh —”

“Babe?” I asked, figuring he was searching for an alliterative word.

“Beautiful babe,” he agreed.

“My name is Abby, what’s yours?”

“Bathor.”

I smiled at him, while I tried to place the name. Gren had mentioned a Bathor, but he wasn’t on the list of people who had aligned themselves with Varek and Baradzem, nor on the list of likely Gavabar loyalists, which I had memorized. So he was probably someone who kept his head down and avoided taking sides.

“Well, Bathor, I’ll try to put in a good word for you and make sure you get some special beer.”

He grinned wide, and with his yellow teeth, several of which were missing, it didn’t improve his appearance. There were definitely lengths to which I was not willing to go to help Xyla, but I tried to give him my best smile in return and arched my back to make the most of my chest. “Show me Varek, then, for now.”

The largest building in town was a big oblong structure, which Gren had told me was the great hall where the tribe dined together, and in which they had their orgies when there was enough beer. The second largest was the chief’s hut, where Gavabar normally lived, and that was where Bathor took me. The trolls working on the new building stopped what they were doing to take a long look at me, and one of them let out a wolf whistle.

“Awesome ass!”

“Massive melons!”

“Redoubtable rack!”

Some things happen everywhere, I guessed. Although without all the alliteration. Redoubtable, indeed.

“I’ll make sure they think you haven’t told me,” I murmured to Bathor, and they yelled out, “Do you guys know where Gavabar is? I have some special beer for him and those loyal to him!”

One of them glanced toward the hut Bathor had pointed out. A couple of them looked sheepish. Several of them looked frightened. But none of them gave me any answers.

I followed Bathor into the chief’s hut.

I recognized Varek from Gren’s description. He was sitting in a big chair, and looking in charge, so I could have figured it out even if he hadn’t had bright green spiky hair, and an eye patch. He had a bracer on each wrist, and a torc around his neck, all of which looked like they might be made of gold, with red, blue, and green uncut gemstones.

There were two male trolls standing next to him, and I didn’t know who they were, but they were armed with long knives, and so was he. One had red hair, the other orange. They, too, had golden jewelry, although not as much as Varek.

I could charm him, but if I did that I’d have enough mana for two jumps, at most. And I needed to keep line of sight to use Dimension Step. The one window looked out on the building project, and there were a lot of guys there, and probably most ones loyal to Varek and Baradzem. There was definitely a lot that could go wrong.

What are you doing? These guys outnumber us! Let’s run, now!

I ignored Enash, and my own insistent heartbeat. The guys were staring at my tits, but Varek’s eyes flicked to the bottle.

“You can go, Bathor,” he said.

I didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Would Charm Person make him fight for me, if it came to that? The way the three were looking at my body made me wonder. Trolls couldn’t get it up without being stoned, but my plan involved telling them I had alcohol. I needed to keep aware of my escape options.

Well, I couldn’t back out now.

“I have some special beer, from Prince Legolas of the Elves,” I said. “Which he said to deliver into the hands of Chief Gavabar himself.”

Varek frowned. “I’m what you might call acting for the chief.” He reached out for it. “You can give it to me.”

“No,” I said, pulling it close to me. “I’m under direction to deliver it only to the Chief, and then I can go back to get nine more bottles.”

It took about half a cup of beer, according to Gren, for a troll to get drunk. I was pretty sure they couldn’t imagine just how potent whiskey was by comparison.

“Well,” Varek said. “I can’t let you see the Chief, so we’re at an impasse.”

“Can’t? Is he dead?”

Varek shook his head. The two men with him were moving to my sides and slightly behind me. This wasn’t looking good.

“Won’t,” Varek said. “Baradzem the conjurer of combustion has decreed that the Chief be left to rest. For his own good, of course. He’s sick.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He ate too much,” Varek said, showing his yellow teeth. At least he only had one missing, but saying he was more handsome than Bathor was faint praise. The hippos in Fantasia were sexier. The two men laughed, but there was a hard tinge to their laughter I didn’t like at all. I wanted to save Dimension Step for after I’d actually gotten stuff done, but they were creeping closer, and I definitely couldn’t fight them all off. Given how aggressive they were, I didn’t even think they’d qualify for being back stabbed if I struck first.