Chapter Forty-Three
…..
Mance Rayder doesn't know where it goes wrong. One second he is skulking beneath the tree line investigating what in the world Rattleshirt is bemoaning about when he returned to their "united" camp a few days ago. The next thing he knows, something painful and hard impacts on his skull bringing him straight to oblivion the moment his brain registers the large fort at the bay.
"Welcome to my camp, wakey! Wake!" the voice echoes inside his skull and Mance groans as he tries to get his senses in order. Slowly waking up, his eyes still refuses to cooperate and he is still seeing double. His senses though are not given the chance to recuperate as a bucket of ice cold water sloshes all over his face making him snap in attention from the sudden combination of a wake up call via cold water and bucket throwing.
"What the fuck-,!" Mance Rayder's curse is stopped as the feeling of cold steel touches his throat making him freeze in instinct.
"I would not having you cursing in the presence of my lady Wildling!" a female voice speaks in warning more akin to a hiss. "Now do I have your cooperation?" she asks making Mance nod warily.
"Good, and I believe you are fully awake now so stop acting groggy," he can feel the cold steel leaves contact from his skin finally making him breathe again.
Now that he is free of death via throat slitting, he can see that the woman is right. His eyesight is once more back to normal and around him a bustling camp filled with perfectly organized talents with cooking fires every now and then as people in black clad armor walks by. Personally it reminds him of his brothers at the Night's Watch whenever they deploy in large numbers of ten or twenty, only a lot more organized. He is completely baffled though as he sees the tall "extremely" young woman, more akin a girl in title looking down at him, her dark violet hair with red streaks blowing in the wind. He is no fool though; every sense of his entire body that served him well in surviving the North is screaming at him that this girl is as dangerous as the leader of the Thenns when drunk. The fact that she has a bloody big spear at her back is proof enough also.
"You're young," he comments earning him a snort from her.
"And you smell, doesn't change the fact that you're competent though," she replies making Mance look at her in bafflement.
"What do you mean?" he finally asks.
"Mance Rayder, raised and saved by the Night's Watch from an abandoned Wildling village, becomes a Ranger at an extremely young age due to recognition of his skills; traitor to his brothers and joining his native people due to a woman, trying to unite the tribes and becoming King Beyond the Wall," the person in front of him narrates making Mance raise an eyebrow in acknowledgement at her words.
"The Night's Watch has you well-informed huh?" he replies earning him a snort from her.
"I do not even make the time to pass by that penal colony of rapists, thieves and murderers," this time Mance gulps as she leans down in an eerie smile making him gulp at the rather evil demonic visage that transforms her youthful face for only a split second before returning to normal. "I have my ways of gathering my own information," she backs away then making the soon to be King Beyond the Wall gulp in relief.
"The question though is why the Uniter of Tribes skulking around our camp? Let me warn you traitor that I don't usually like to repeat my question, so…why?" she asks with arms crossed at her chest.
Mance Rayder scowls and does the natural thing that all Free Folk would do when asked by Southeners when captured, he clamps his mouth shut. The moment he does that however, he immediately regrets it for the light of something akin to triumph glints at the eyes of the young woman in front of him.
"I rather like when the ones I'm questioning are straightforward. However I do find it tedious for I am always wondering when they are lying or not. I much prefer…this way!" and before Mance's brain registers the words, her hand grips his head and something akin to a mental knife plunges into Mance's brain.
No amount of mental fortitude or personal confidence can stop Mance from screaming his lungs out. His head feels like it is going to explode and something akin to a heated sharp blade is carving the innards of his brain. He can literally feel every thought, every scrap of knowledge inside his head being checked and pulled out. All the while it seems like more knives are cutting through his brain as the invader goes deeper.
Even Mance has no idea how long it lasted. All he knows that by some miracle the Old gods finally answered as the invasive probe inside his brain finally ceased and the sudden stop of pain feels like paradise come early. He doesn't even try to regain control of his limbs as they currently feel like jelly and the inside of his skull feels like its scrambled.
As Mance is ready to surrender once more however to the sweet embrace of sleep, he is rudely denied that once more by a bucket of ice cold water that snaps him back to the realm of wakefulness. One thing's different however. Instead of being splashed in the face only, this time its his entire body making Mance shiver under the rigid winds of the True North.
What made his heart truly shiver though is the sight of the monster in human form that invaded his mind without preamble.
"I know that you have a….camp near here where you plan to meet with the rest of your tribe Mance. You will take me there,"
With all his heart Mance wants to say no. But for some reason, he replies in affirmation under those piercing eyes.
…..
Road to Mance's Forward Camp
Amelia knows in good faith thatshe has been spending enough time with their Lady to understand some of her moods despite her being a mystery all around. That is why she is deeply concerned at what she is seeing right now. For any observer, Delianah would be maintaining her casual usual expression as she rides at the head of their column of almost fifty Death Dealers armed to the teeth. Amelia sees otherwise though. She can see clearly the difference at the Dame's face. The small crease of her eyebrows, the slight down turning direction of her lips, the tight grip that she has at the reins of her horse and more importantly the tenseness of her entire form all gives evidence for her to see that her friend is anything but well. She has been like this ever since the decision that they "deliver" Mance back to his camp of wildling followers.
With a silent nod at the lead Death Dealer at Delianah's back who understood the message, Amelia urges her horse forward to canter behind their Messiah while the Death Dealers lessen their strides to give the two of them some space and privacy.
"My lady, are you alright?" she finds herself asking her friend after a few moments of riding in silence. "You never told us why we are going to that wildling village of this Night Watch's traitor,"
At her question, Amelia notices the sudden change deflation of her friend looking as if a great weight has been leaning on her shoulders this entire time. As it is Amelia watches as her lady takes a glimpse at the other riders at the back for only a split second before focusing her attention back at her.
"What do you know about necromancy Amelia?"
"Only that it is affront to the Old gods. The dead after all should be left in peace at their sleep and not be disturbed," Amelia answers truthfully with a shrug. "Those who practice such arts are despicable people and one that people should stay away at,"
"Good answer, and do you know exactly why is that?"
"I don't know. I've got a feeling though that you are about to tell me my lady," replies Amelia making a wry smile to appear at Delianah's face.
"The human form is composed of the body, spirit and the soul. All these together is what makes us function and alive. When a human dies, the spirit and the soul disappears leaving the body alone which results to it being empty and thus,dead. Necromancers tend to split their souls to fill the gaps left over a dead body which then gives them control. However souls are pure things, thus to break one's soul-,"
"You have to do the opposite," Amelia replies now connecting the dots.
"Yes, you're right Amelia," the Lady of Rivendell replies to her with a nod. "Thus there is only one way to break the soul of an innocent correctly. That is unrequited murder of the most heinous sort. Killing someone damages the soul, but killing a person despite knowing full well that he or she is innocent damages it. Repeat the process a few more times and the soul will crack enough to pieces that you can then use to put into dead bodies whence you can then control them,"
"So we are hunting a sorcerer my lady?" Amelia asks.
Delianah only snorts at her question. "If only it is that simple, no. A human sorcerer can easily be dealt with. A sorcerer made from a construct of magic is different however,"
Amelia only blinks in utter confusion at her lady. For some reason, the Lady Delianah is finding it prudent to be speaking in riddles today. In a way it infuriates her.
"Can you clarify my lady?" Amelia asks. "I don't understand,"
This time the look that meets her eyes is one of sadness. "We are heading to Mance's camp where I expect one of the White Walkers will show themselves. In a way I want to save them,"
Almost in that moment, Amelia completely regrets asking in the first place.
…..
Somewhere on the Outskirts
It is the fires that first give off the first warning signs that something is wrong. This far in the North, Delianah has rooted more than enough information from Mance's brain to understand that the Wildlings or the Free Folk as they call themselves never liked to advertise their positions by lighting up fires without a proper place of hiding.
Thus when their large party arrives at the camp, she is not at all surprised at the sight of dead bodies, Wildlings all littering the white ground. All of them have stab wounds of some kind and most if not all are in a state of the early stages of rot. This gives proof that they are at least dead for two to three days already.
"By the gods, what is going on?!" she can hear Mance gasping in both shock and no small amount of terror at the sight. Delianah mentally rolls her eyes. The man obviously knows what happened, he's just being dramatic at it.
Is Delianah scared? Definitely. Necromancy is a serious issue even back then at her old world. Other than the fact that dealing with a dead walking corpse is a psychological and physical hazard, there is also the added trouble of handling the ones who raised them. Necromancers who have a penchant of raising the dead tends to use break their souls to tiny little pieces to the point that in the unlikely scenario you get to them, they are unhinged to the max and dialed to ten. As far as Delianah is concerned, it is always dangerous on dealing with an unpredictable opponent instead of a predictable one. They after all lash out in ways that can catch you off guard. As it is, it is a general rule that when dealing with Necromancers back in her day, it is highly advisable that you bring backup with you and a lot of it.
Now as to the reason why she is deviating from her vacation is because of the singular fact that she wants to see personally this new threat. Even in her previous world, she has never seen a magical construct use necromancy before. Delianah hates not knowing, and worse, it is a threat to everything she has built. So yeas, it is a big no, no.
"I guess we arrived in time again to see the results of the White Walkers aftermath Mance," comments Delianah to the man who looks pale as ghost as he is snapped back to reality from the sight of dead bodies littering now empty tents.
"We should get out of here! The bodies are not raised! It is still here! We must move quickly before they turn. We must-," he is promptly cut off by a slap by one of the Death Dealers nearly breaking his jaw due to the gauntlet.
"Only speak when you are spoken to traitor!" hisses the man who backs down with a raised hand by Delianah.
"Is it still here?" she simply asks Mance who nods despite the blood on his lips.
"Yes, the bodies. They usually don't leave any bodies behind," answers Mance looking sick at the sight of a woman speared through the throat and her innards ripped open.
"Very well, burn the bodies! Search the outliers!" barks Delianah immediately making the Death Dealers at the back ride forward without hesitation as they check the camp.
"Are you fucking mad?! There's a White Walker in the vicinity! We should be running! Not searching for it!" shouts Mance earning him a slap from one of the Death Dealers which reopens his busted lip.
"At least let me go with them and I can check if any of my people survive,"
"No! The Death Dealers can deal with the dead. You're staying with me," Delianah sternly says making the man give her a stink eye but saying nothing. Good, he's learning. Gauntlet through the face works every time.
Now as to the question why Delianah is giving an effort on finding out more about these apocalyptic zombie of doom issye. She has literally no plans on letting these ice fuckers ruin years and years of work down South. Suffice it to say that there's no point of being Delianah the Great if there's no one to sing her praises is there? Especially the fact if they are walking dead zombies in the control of a magical construct who is not mad addled with soul damage magic. As far as Delianah is concerned, the White Walkers is a mighty big problem.
The first signs of snow again start to appear along with a darkening weather making her frown unhappily. Suffice it to say that the ever changing weather of "bad snow" to "sunny snow" doesn't agree with her. While she can stomach snow and winter just fine, Delianah rather prefers the hot seasons compared to the cold ones.
Around the large camp, the Death Dealers are walking all over lighting their torches and lighting up the dead bodies one by one before moving on to another. It is suffice it to say an eerie sight. Add the silence and it is quite nerve wracking. She has to give it to her bodyguards, they certainly have nerves of steel.
A soft clatter makes her turn to see that Amelia has taken off her helmet nodding at her once in recognition before focusing in looking at the Death Dealers in front of them. Then she feels it, only for a split second. A blast of magic, invisible to human eyes and muggle senses overlapping the area.
A scuffle sounds from one of the huts where two of the Death Dealers entered followed by the sound of broken wood. Then from the tent flaps stumble a really dead man with a bloody throat running around in many a loss of balance across surprised Death Dealers who is caught off guard by the sudden appearance of a walking dead man.
"THEY'RE TURNING!" a shout from the two inside makes everyone immediately realize what is going on.
"Hyah!" with an urge on her horse, Amelia rides after the running dead man raising her crossbow at it. With snap and a twang the bolt hit it at the head straight killing it immediately as it crashes unto the snow.
"Aim for the head!" she calls out to the Death Dealers who much to Delianah's pride immediately becomes alert as they recovered from the sudden shock of a dead man walking.
Swords and weapons are drawn as her troops around the camp readies themselves for the sudden revival ceremony of the dead going around them. Delianah nods at the Death Dealers guarding Mance who immediately cut his bonds and handed to him his large oversized bronze knife-sword that they confiscated beforehand. Apparently the man understands the concept of the enemy of my enemy is my friend for he does not start attacking his captors but readies himself instead.
Sounds are starting to emanate from the dead men and women around them and man are twitching hard already. Signs of magic filling their bodies and connecting to whoever it is that is reviving them. The Death Dealers of course pragmatic as ever do not waste time waiting for them to fully get back up and fight them "honorably". They're not Knights of the Vale damnit.
Many of the Death Dealers run to the twitching former dead men and starts hacking them to bits while they are still in preparation mode. One overzealous one even uses a two-handed battleaxe swinging necks to make sure that the dead stay dead in one strike. Even Amelia has rallied three of the Death Dealers with her and are shooting the dead too far from the groups to reach in time.
Delianah can see it clearly though. Despite the best efforts of the Death Dealers, there is just too few of them to deal with all the dead bodies littering the camp right now. If her estimate is right, they do not have the time to kill them all before they are all up and about.
The sound of wood breaking followed by a panicked whinnying sound makes her turn to the sight of a fully resurrected Wight clinging to a Death Dealer atop his horse trying to rip at him with its claws. The Death Dealer is disciplined enough to fight off the dead man. Unfortunately the horse is not and it whinnies in fear and panic as it lands on its back.
Around more wights are rising and her bodyguards are responding as best as they could. One rushes a standing wight with an axe, chopping at it on the head only to be tackled by another wight. Another wight appearing from a not yet checked tent appears ready to dogpile him on the ground only for his partner to stab it in the chest as it flails upon the sword.
All around wights are rising now in numbers and Death Dealers in small groups are dealing with them as best as they could. They have the skill, the weapons and the armor to ward off the claws and the teeth of the wights after all. The wights however have tenacity, psychological terror and lack of self-care makes them rabid attack dogs that are extremely dangerous.
They are already posing a threat for some of the Death Dealers atop horses. The equestrian animals are unused to dead man and their foul presence causing them to throw many of their riders where. Already Delianah can see the first casualty, a Death Dealer stuck below his horse only to have his face mauled by a wight through the slits of his helmet visor. The Death Dealer with the battle-axe seeing the death roars in anger before rushing and slamming the large weapon at the skull of the wight breaking it in half. A wight on fire rushes him but another swing of the battle-axe removes the neck of it.
It is obvious thought that they need every help that they can get. With an urge of her horse, Delianah rushes to the fray wordlessly followed by her five bodyguards and Mance. Her charge comes just in time too. One of the larger wights manages to throw a Death Dealer off it before mauling his companion and roaring in triumph. Unfortunately for it, its roar of victory is not extended as Delianah's Valyrian spear cut through and depacitating it almost immediately. Left and right her spear struck before with a wave of her hand the flame whip appears once more and strikes a wight atop the wooden thatched roof of a tent making it burst into flames burning the trapped wights inside.
Around her the Death Dealers try to rally and prevent her from being overrun. Swords and axes are drawn knocking down Wights left, right and center that seems to come at every direction. Delianah herself is not idle, every time her spear hits, a wight died, the powerful enchantments of fire from the Valyrians ending whatever sorcery that is controlling the cold demons. The flame whip is a deterrent for the wights as they seem to abhor the very sigh of fire making them hesitate on their rush towards her. Their hesitation cost them their unlife.
"My lady! My lady!" one of her Death Dealers ran at her, his sword bloody.
"What is it soldier?" Delianah demands swiping another wight mid-air with her whip before turning to the panting man.
"T-the W-wildling has escaped!" he responds in an out of breath manner.
"What?!" Delianah hisses before looking around. Indeed there is no sign of the slippery former Crow.
"Fuck, I need a-,"
"My lady!" one of the wights has gotten through the Death Dealer defense lines heading straight for her. It is intercepted though by the one wielding the battle-axe as he tries to take a swing at it. The dead however is quite wise as it intercepts the attack by grabbing at the handle before throwing the Death Dealer through one of the tents. It tries to make a follow through attack by charging the downed man then. He is quite resilient though for he gets up on his feet quick, drawing his standard castle issued sword before running through her supposed to be killer instead.
"My lady! My lady! We need to retreat," a bloody and mud covered Amelia ran at her, she has a nasty gash at her scalp. "There's too many of them and the more we stay, the more at risk we are at being overrun,"
Delianah simply grimaces. She's not dumb enough to wave off Amelia's opinion. When the woman speaks, she usually makes sense. Looking at the battle currently happening around, she can see the truth herself also. While the Death Dealers are currently holding the upper hand, she can see almost twenty dead from her company and a lot more wounded. While every inch of her wants nothing more than to see the battle through, Delianah has experience enough both from her previous life and this one to understand that it is always wise to know a prudent retreat. Too many brave people have been way too daring and ended up overreaching.
"Show me a hero, and I'll show you a corpse," she mentally recites to herself before sighing in acceptance inside. She would not subject some of her best soldiers due to her pride.
"Sound the retreat Amelia, gather all of our forces to ourselves here. Make sure that a rear guard is present as we fall back. Make sure that the retreat becomes not a rout. Those that have horses make sure to have a partner or two at their back. Understand?"
"Yes, my lady I'm on it," Amelia replies with a bow before running off with two Death Dealers to sound the horn of retreat.
Delianah simply curses cutting down another wight. This expedition here of herself is a failure and the only condolence she has is that there's a mighty big Wall separating the Southern Lands from whatever monstrosity they are facing right now. The loud sound of a horn blowing finally makes her look as the Death Dealers rally back to her in formation while fending off dead men.
As she and her group finally retreats, it is only for a moment but Delianah imagines a pair of icy blue eyes staring at her from the gloom of the forest far ahead.
….
Author's Note:
Hello Fellow Readers, thanks for the Support and the Reviews. I really enjoyed them. Sorry for the long updates. I've been reading Mass Effect Powerful Humanity fics for a while so my writing time is swallowed by that. Anyway hope ya like this chapter.
For those who doesn't know it yet, Amelia's character is taken from Amelia in Underworld Series.