Title: Nekro's Mancy

Author: Becca

E-mail: lordsbecca@yahoo.com

Rating: Going on Worst-Case-Scenario here... R for violence and language.

Category: Horror

Archive: C-Could you let me know first? Archiving makes me feel splendiferous.

Pairings: Undetermined.... none planned, but my romantic side may take over a few times ;)

Disclaimer: Technically, everyone belongs to WB, Scholastic, and JK. But how's this: until the fifth book and second movie comes out, the characters will be chillin' with me. It's either with me, or the unemployment office. *preens*

Summary: There is an Irish legend that speaks of a cauldron that brings the dead to a zombie-like life. The cauldron can take anything from a body part to a full body and create a soldier out of it. Now Voldemort wants the cauldron to create an army of Dead Warriors, and when he gets it, nothing can stop him from winning the final battle....

Thank You: Tons of thanks to Mara! Oooh, I love you! And lots of thanks to, once again, Allan and Elizabeth Kronzek, for their "The Sorcerer's Companion" book. I love it!

.:.

Prologue

Bran held on to the black cauldron tightly, still weary of the idea the king had just proposed. Give up his cauldron? The one thing that still allowed him power? The idea was unnerving. He would be losing everything that kept him important. If he turned in this cauldron.... Then he would help Ireland win any war it came across. The king had promised that all credit would be given to him....

Sighing, he took one last look at the cauldron before placing it in front of the king, who grinned in triumph. Bran bowed and said, "Your Highness, it would be my honor to allow Ireland to gain the power it needs to pull ahead of England."

"Excellent," the king said greedily, not listening to a word Bran had said. His beady eyes glared at the large pot, hungry for its power. With a swish of his hand, the guards suddenly seized Bran and pulled him out of the king's sight. Bran cursed and called out to the king, but was ignored.

"Sir Sagamore!" the king called. It took only a moment for the knight to appear in front of the throne, his body kneeled into a low bow.

"My Lord," Sagamore proclaimed, his voice strong and pure, "What do you wish?"

The king's famous sneer spread across his face. "Take the cauldron to the cemetery. You know what to do."

Nodding, Sagamore asked, "How many, Your Highness?"

"Four hundred to begin with. I want the knight's cemetery used first, then go to the lower class civilians. Males only. If this army works, than we shall recruit more."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Sagamore replied.

The king flicked his writs. "Off with you! Take as many soldiers with you as needed. I want our new army under control. If word gets out about this.... And don't let any of the townsfolk see them!"

"Yes, Sir. As you wish."

"Be gone."

Sagamore bowed once more and left, the cauldron in hand.

***

"He's nuts, I tell ya!" Stephan growled as he dug further into the dirt. "He's off 'is 'ocker."

"Quiet," Sagamore snapped, "or I'll report you for treason."

Stephan stopped shoveling and stared at Sagamore. "You ain't serious 'bout this, is ya? We are diggin' up bodies, puttin' 'em into a pot, and expectin' solider to come outta it! Well, 'scuse me for thinkin' dat the Oh- Might-King has gone too far!"

"I don't like it either," Sagamore snarled, his shovel hitting something hard. "Here. Help me pull out the casket."

Rolling his eyes, Stephan helped Sagamore pull the poorly built and rotting casket out, and opened it. Inside they found a man. His skin was gray, and cheeks were sullen. His eyes had disappeared, and maggots had eaten their way through the clothes.

"Ugh..." Stephan winced. "I swea', get me somefin' to plug up my nose!"

The sound of metal being rubbed together, and suddenly, there was a sword against Stephan's throat. Sagamore's eyes seemed to burn holes into the complaining Irish man, but Stephan did not know this: his eyes were tightly shut.

"Be QUIET!" Sagamore shouted, his voice echoing off the rolling green hills of Ireland. "You should be proud to serve your country."

Stephan pulled up enough courage to argue back, "Oh right! I'm obvi'sly servin' my country proudly! I'm covered in filth, supposedly gonna bring back da dead.... ARGH!"

The sword had moved only a few inches until it broke through to the other side of his neck. Stephan's eyes were wide, terror filling them. Then suddenly, the sparkle was gone and his body went completely limp. The blood drained quickly from his jugular vein. Sagamore put a foot on top of Stephan's lifeless body as he pulled his sword out. He then turned to the other soldiers who stared at him.

"Put him with the others. We can put him in the cauldron, too."

With no hesitation, the closest two soldiers picked up Stephan's body and carried him to the pile of other bodies they had collected, his fresh skin and smell clashing with the other decaying bodies.

Sagamore looked beyond the pile of bodies and smiled. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

The other soldiers nodded in agreement, and they all returned to their labor.