The Oath of the Necromancer: The Second Neoluzian War: Book Ii

By Christopher J. Farmer

In The Oath of the Necromancer, the tide of war rises against the good races of Neoluzia by the marauding armies of the Orcs from the north. The Orcs are led by Arkan Spiritstrike, a powerful Orc wizard who drives his forces to fulfill an Orc destiny designed over one thousand years ago.

After the Veiled Institution restores Darius, David Parr is given the opportunity to return home to Earth, a place the Veiled Institution has declared a "forbidden world." Before he leaves, Parr is taken from his elven hosts by a disciple of the Veiled Institution so that he can be shown the true security danger in Neoluzia.

Armed with this new information, Parr reluctantly decides to remain in Neoluzia so that he can find the great necromancer Termaplix, the last remaining hope for the salvation of the land. With his dark elven companions and a feisty dwarven paladin, David seeks to deliver this message tasked by Darius to the Salon of Enlightenment. Unknown to Parr however, the Orcs have planned to prevent his valiant party from leaving the elven forest of Frontentia alive and the stranger from Earth finds that he cannot escape The Second Neoluzian War.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Nov 18, 2002
• ISBN: 9780595742028

Christopher J. Farmer

Christopher J. Farmer is a national security expert specializing in revolutionary theory. His intense writing style explores complicated security issues in a fictional setting that humanity faces in this new century. He resides in Connecticut with his family.

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The Oath of the Necromancer

The Second Neoluzian War: Book II

All Rights Reserved © 2002 by Christopher J. Farmer

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any

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taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the written

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Contents

Introduction

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

About the Author

Neoluzian Terms

This book is dedicated to my sister Linda.

The Ores came upon us entering the village unhindered and unopposed. They began killing everyone who had prepared a defense, most without mercy. Their numbers were simply too overwhelming.

We had sent the women and children away to hide several moons before the Ores arrived. They were sent south to the Monsain River to a location that we believed would be difficult to detect. There were sutars of women and children collected there.

After the paladin companies retreated from the village, the leaders tried to reorganize the men for another counter-attack upon the Orcs. The men would have none of it—most had been injured in the first attack by the Orcs and were incapable of mounting another offensive. Others that were not so wounded fled the ranks in despair. The men did not believe that they had the strength to fight against the invaders. The Orcs were simply too powerful.

Word came to us that Darius had arrived in the Spardune Valley and that he was organizing a force to isolate and cast down Irongloat the Merciless. Some of the men chose to go to Darius’ location. Some chose to run from the war.

The soldiers who had fled the front to return to their families were stricken again. The area we had planned for the safety of our families somehow became exposed and Irongloat the Merciless marched there. Irongloat’s soldiers attacked the women and children, killing them by the sutars, dismembering them, violating them…Words cannot describe what the Orcs did to our people. The men could not and would not believe what had happened to them.

Several tarins away from the mass graves that we found was a soldier, alone and wandering. The men in the company stopped to comfort him but he would have none of it. I recognized the soldier that was searching—he was a neighbor. He was searching everywhere for his family. His wife and four children were sent with the others to the place that Irongloat the Merciless had visited. We did not tell him that we had seen his sons the moon prior. His sons had been nailed to trees alongside the river with steel spikes. We did not see his wife. The men could only embrace him because they had lost the will to speak.

— Testimony of Captain Matea, human paladin cavalry, at the Salon of Enlightenment, Neoluzia 15.

The Rose Petals

Christopher J. Farmer

She stood by the shore,

Her hair hid her face,

The petals fell,

One by one onto the lake.

She was beautiful,

While she was there,

The petals fell,

One by one onto the lake.

The shore moved away from her,

If the petals could know,

While she looked to them calmly,

One by one onto the lake.

Then she was finished,

Her hands were empty,

The petals moved away,

One by one onto the lake.

She reconsidered,

Reaching for them,

The petals kept moving,

One by one onto the lake.

If she wanted to save them,

They could have been saved,

The petals moved further,

One by one onto the lake.

She breathed and shivered,

Wanting a petal,

They drifted away,

To the center of the lake.

Introduction

A Secret Location, Neoluzia 15

The cavern was hollowed out by magic, powerful magic. The central chamber was still warm from the magic used to remove the tons of granite required to allow the soldiers there to carry the figure encased in transparent green stone. The figure was frozen inside, locked in this new prison, and it took twenty strong men to carry it. Several robed figures stood in the rear of the chamber observing the action of the group of soldiers quietly. When the group of soldiers reached the center of the chamber they carefully dropped the encased human to the floor, the movement echoing off the walls when the heavy weight landed on the smooth granite. This was a tomb, but the men hoped that the man encased in the transparent prison would be able to one day be rescued from the affliction that consumed him. Torches blazed in steel holdings along the walls—a vast array of weapons, shields, clothing and other objects filled the chamber in honor of the great man who would now reside here.

The soldiers that carried the magical sarcophagus stood and flexed their arms after the exertion, their leader motioning them to withdraw from the chamber. Another set of men entered the hollowed room with sledge-hammers and metal rods. They moved to the corners of the transparent prison and began to hammer the rods through circular slits in the rectangular object. Each hammer vibrated loudly against the walls of the tomb as the steel hammers fell upon the metal rods. When the transparent sarcophagus was securely lodged to the smooth stone floor, the men stood with their hammers and they too left the chamber.

The three robed figures allowed the workers to leave the chamber before they became active. When the artisans left the structure the robed group moved to the transparent sarcophagus and ran their hands across it, checking the integrity of the work. In near unison they removed the hoods from their robes allowing the light from the torches to fill their eyes. There were two men and one woman, one of the men wearing a golden head- band to signify his stature as the king of Neoluzia. The king removed the golden headband and he placed it on top of the sarcophagus, stepping back when he was finished. The other two figures watched their king as he did so.

Is Darius coming, my king? Tamica asked King Isaih.

King Isaih lifted his head from the green stone, the question breaking an important thought. He breathed deeply then, the sadness of their action welling up inside him.

No, Darius will not be coming, the king replied solemnly. He chose not to, because to come to his brother’s prison would jeopardize it. He would know the location of the tomb, and while Darius understands the great danger that this place must be forgotten, his loyalty to his brother may circumvent the protection of the land.

The Factorate in Oakmantle came to the salon two moons ago and informed us that Darius had arrived in Frontentia. He has been assisting the elves in the reclamation of the forest. a female voice said quietly. She turned to look at Tamica and then back to the sarcophagus.

Tamica nodded in agreement with his sister Bosnain.

I spoke with Darius personally about Termaplix. We will receive no resistance from him over this matter. King Isaih told them. Termaplix became a great danger to us due to Irongloat the Merciless’ wicked magi- cal curse. Until we can find the magic to undo this curse, for our own safety and more importantly the safety of all of Neoluzia we must imprison Termaplix. Darius gave me his word that he would not come looking for his brother. His refusal to join us here proves, to me, that his word is true. Darius is no fool. He saw what was happening to Termaplix. He saw the possession take hold. Until Termaplix can be restored, here he shall remain.

Bosnain ran her hands across the transparent green stone to wipe some dust that had quickly collected there. Termaplix looked up at her from within the prison with an expression of fury; the great necromancer’s eyes seemed to be peering into her, seeing through her. She shuddered and turned away from the eyes, her brother moving to her side to embrace his sister.

This touches all of us, Tamica said as he brought his sister closer.

Indeed, the king replied. Tamica, I want you to clear the thoughts of the men who assisted in the construction of this tomb. None must remember what has occurred here. Only the three of us shall be left with the information.

With your permission, great king, Tamica bowed.

You have my permission to use the great magic to ensure this necessity, the king finished, turning to move to the entrance of the tomb. Tamica left the facility to complete the task assigned to him. The king turned silently back to Bosnain for a moment, wondering why she did not join him.

May I remain for a moment? I would like to say goodbye. Bosnain asked, her eyes beginning to tear.

The king did not reply but simply nodded because he knew that she was in love with the great necromancer that was now imprisoned before them. King Isaih turned and left the tomb silently, leaving Bosnain alone with the man she was in love with, the man cast down with an unknown affliction by Irongloat the Merciless.

My love, Bosnain whispered, They are taking you away from me. What am I supposed to do? Darius has ignored my lamentations. Everyone is dreadfully afraid of you. They say that they seek a resolution to your condition, but what if they do not find it?

A teardrop fell upon the green stone, the face of Termaplix unchanged when it happened. Bosnain moved to the end of the stone and removed a bright green stone from her robe. She peered at the entrance to the tomb and confident she remained alone to her own devices she began to cast a spell. If she was caught she would find an extreme reprimand drawn upon her, but her love for the necromancer pushed her to do so. With a single small wave of the stone she held, a light penetrated the rear of Termaplix’s prison and words magically became carved in the corner. It was a poem, and she blew upon the surface once to remove the debris that covered the new carving to ensure that it had taken.

Bosnain! her brother’s voice called to her from the entrance with an echo.

Coming! she replied quickly.

Bosnain slid the green stone underneath her robe and wiped the tears from her face. Before her the poem she had carved in the stone flashed with green light. It was a Poem of Naming, and she had named this tomb. She made her oath then, that she would find a way to save Termaplix, the man she loved, no matter what the cost and no matter how long it would take. It was The Oath of the Necromancer.

* * * *

The Spardune Valley, Neoluzia 14, six months before the entombing of Termaplix

Darius was summoned by the men in the command because his brother was acting strangely. The valley was filled with confusion since Irongloat the Merciless had been cast down the moon before. The healers were attending to the sutars of warriors wounded during the battle while tens of sutars had lost their lives. The confusion was great as it always is after a battle of this magnitude.

Darius was led through the camps with speed by armed guards, his wizard’s robe fluttering in the wind. He had been seriously wounded in the attack upon the armies of Irongloat the Merciless and this wounding did not allow his mind to filter information as clearly as it should have, making the demands of the men that came for him surreal. The moon prior he had left the battlefield with his brother Termaplix and there was great celebration. Termaplix took an arrow in his left leg but the shaft was removed and cleansed at no risk to his life.

The party approached a large light-blue command tent in the distance. There was a host of activity around it—soldiers moved in and out of the tent while others were chatting nervously outside. A cold fall wind blew across the valley and the soldiers at the tent huddled together to stay warm while watching what occurred inside. When Darius and the other soldiers guarding him arrived at the tent the groups made way for them to enter.

Praise Gaeit, Darius! Something has befallen Termaplix! General Croaten was there, forcing soldiers aside and pulling Darius deeper into the tent.

The soldiers pushed their comrades back to give the great wizard plenty of room. Near the center of the tent a cot had been placed there and resting on the cot was the great wizard Termaplix, Darius’ brother. Termaplix was deeply feverish and healers were wiping damp cloths upon his fore- head to provide him relief. His leg had been bandaged and a small red stain protruded through the cotton to the surface marking the entrance to the Orc arrow that had found its target. Darius knelt beside his brother and looked upon him with worry, the vast area of the tent falling into silence while he did so.

A dwarf stood watch over Termaplix on the other side of the cot and Darius smiled at the loyalty of the paladin. It was Sazen the Brave, and Darius saw the tiny eyes of the dwarf squint with sadness. The dwarf’s armor was kinked from the hundreds of arrows that Sazen had taken with full force to protect Termaplix. No words needed to be spoken to describe the bravery during the battle the moon before.

General Croaten whispered to Darius and pointed to the ground. Underneath the cot the grass had turned yellow as if the life had been sucked right out of it. Darius reached to the ground and pulled some of the deadened grass by the roots. He shifted the clump carefully in his hands, the soldiers that bore witness commenting wildly amongst them- selves. Termaplix was drawing the life out of the land.

Darius dropped the grass and moved closer to his brother. He lifted Termaplix’s hand and grasped it firmly while his face showed the lines of many years of constant warfare. Everyone in the tent was sewn with worry and the men and women there increased their numbers to pay respect to the great wizards that had saved their land.

General, could we speak privately for a moment? Darius asked Croaten quietly.

The two men moved through the masses to the outside of the tent. Some distance away they walked together, the smoke from the funeral pyres used to dispose of the Orcs slain in the last offensive burned brightly everywhere. Darius watched the mounds burn for a moment in silence, the dark elven son of General Yugon standing by his side.

Termaplix has been converted, Darius said with great sadness, the statement causing General Croaten’s eyes to flash wide with shock. We must remove him from this place before this conversion is realized by others. The paladins will soon figure it out. I need your help to gather him up to transport him to the salon.

Of course, my lord, General Croaten replied to the instructions. Termaplix seemed fine this morning. His wound was sealed and it was a clean wound. How could this have happened?

Darius looked to the youthful general and shook his head in dismay, Irongloat the Merciless used magic against us that was both unusual and dangerous during the battle. I am not fluent with the type of magic the Orc necromancer used. Termaplix has fallen to this magic. After Termaplix is dispatched to the salon I want you to send an order through all the local commands. This order must be initiated quietly.

Just instruct me Darius and I will obey.

Inform all the commanders to conduct a review of their soldiers. Every soldier in the ranks must be checked for conversion—possession. They must all be checked for necromancy conversion. If any soldier begins to exhibit signs of necromancy, they are to be removed from the ranks and isolated until we can ascertain the extent of the dangerous magic used against us by Irongloat.

As you command, Croaten acknowledged the instructions given to him.

Darius turned to look upon the pyres again. There is one other task I need from you, general.

My lord?

Gather a company of the men, arm them and have them stand guard over me. They are not to obey any instructions that I may give them no matter how insignificant. If I begin to show signs of the affliction, I am ordering you now that I am to be taken to the salon with Termaplix.

I do not understand, my lord. This is confusing. What is this affliction?

Darius turned to the young dark elf and his eyes narrowed. Termaplix has been converted into a necromancer. If this condition spreads upon me, I must have your word that you will ensure I am restrained at best, at worst you must ensure that I cannot bring harm to Neoluzia.

* * * *

Neoluzia, 1153: Present Day

The child ran through the apple grove with other children chasing after her. She held a bright red strip of cloth and the game was underway. The other children tried to tag her, to make her give the cloth away, but she sprinted ahead of them and their chase finally trapped her in a dense section of the grove. She was just ten cycles old and bursting with energy.

Another child reached her as she searched for an escape, touching her gently on the back. She graciously handed the red fabric over to the victor and the group counted to ten before the chase was underway again. The child remained and allowed the other children to continue, her breathing strained from the physical exertion of the game and the run. She panted wildly, her face flustered, leaning a hand against an apple tree and then taking a knee to regain her composure. In the distance the flags waved proudly over the Salon of Enlightenment, the massive fortress that was her new home since she had been selected to join The Protectorate.

As the other children scurried away she remained behind to pluck an apple from the tree. She wiped the skin of the fruit carefully and took a healthy bite. In a moment she found herself sitting on the ground near the tree alone watching the spring butterflies bounce about through the grove with the other insects that celebrated the season. The sound of wagons and horses could be heard approaching and leaving the salon because the main approach to the salon was just off to her right, hidden by the grove. She crawled to the foliage and peered through an open space to observe the movements and giggled, the rest of her companions sprinting off and wandering to another part of the grove.

A movement appeared to her right and she gasped with amazement. She lifted herself from the ground quickly and began to run with the apple in hand along the perimeter of the grove. A voice called out to her gently not to flee and she turned briefly and slowed—a natural caution in dealing with the stranger.

Do not fear, my child, the stranger said softly. I mean you no harm. I have been watching you for some time.

The child paused and stared with fascination at the beautiful woman before her. The woman had long blonde hair and she wore a red robe that vibrated with power. Upon her neck was clasped a golden piece of costume jewelry shaped as an eagle’s head that secured a long, black cloak. When the stranger turned the child saw a white unicorn sewn into the back of the cloak and she smiled at the beauty of the animal. In her hand she held a wooden staff and the tip held a green stone that glowed with power. As she walked the staff touched the ground gracefully.

Will you join me? the woman stranger asked.

Who are you? the child asked, moving cautiously to her.

The stranger removed her cloak and gently laid it upon the ground. She sat on the cloak, placing the staff by her side. She motioned for the child to come sit with her.

Come, I must share some information with you. What is your name?

The child approached and sat on the edge of the cloak with the stranger and the woman ran a hand through her hair, pushing it aside so that her face could be fully seen. The stranger’s eyes sparkled with green energy and she smiled.

My name is Lamsilia, the child responded in awe.

The stranger smiled upon her and looked into the grove. The other children scurried off in the distance.

My name is Bosnain, the woman told the child. "You are new at the salon, aren’t you? I come to the salon sometimes but they have forgotten me.

Lamsilia smiled and looked at the fortress. They chose me a cycle ago to join The Protectorate. My father says that it is a great honor to be selected. My mother was saddened that I was selected, but happy at the same time. It is very confusing. They keep us very busy with the teach- ings.

Bosnain smiled and looked to her robe in memory. Yes, it is a great honor to be a member of The Protectorate. I was once a member, long ago.

Lamsilia looked upon Bosnain questioningly. How come I have never seen you there before? I know all the teachers. I have never seen you before.

Bosnain viewed the child before her and the great wizard’s eyes began to water. She was saddened and Lamsilia could feel it.

All my friends are no longer at the salon. They were all taken by Gaeit.

Where did Gaeit take them? Lamsilia asked. She could feel the sorrow in the stranger because even as a child she had empathic ability, the gift of seeing and sense. Bosnain could see that her emotions drained into the child and she began to cry.

Gaeit took them home when their work was finished here. Gaeit is the mother of the land. They were born unto Gaeit and once they achieved the work in her name she took them away.

Lamsilia reached to Bosnain’s face and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Please don’t cry. When people cry I can feel it and it makes me sad as well. If Gaeit took all your friends away from you, I will be your friend.

Bosnain smiled and gently kissed Lamsilia on the forehead. I remain because my work is not yet finished. I have a friend who I cannot leave behind.

Where is your friend? Lamsilia asked.

My friend is trapped in a secret place. I promised him that I would heal him. Many cycles have passed and I am still unable to heal him because I am unsure of how to do it. I have waited a very long time.

Lamsilia smiled and she pointed to the salon. Let’s take him to the salon! They can heal him. I know they can! In fact, soon I will be able to because they are showing me the healing magic.

Bosnain lowered her head and cried deeply. Lamsilia took her head and hugged her and she began to cry with her. Why are you so sad? Where is your friend? We can get him and take him to The Protectorate.

The great wizard raised her head and her blue eyes glowed with green power. Gaeit may come for me, and if she does my dreams will not be fulfilled. My promise will go unaccomplished. It is for this reason that I am here to speak with you because I need your help.

Lamsilia smiled and the child’s smile forced Bosnain to smile and become enlightened. Why would Gaeit come to get you? If your promise to your friend isn’t completed, then why would Gaeit take you away from him?

Gaeit has given me plenty of time to fulfill my promise. The more time that she has given me, the less time I have to fulfill the promise. This is why I am here to meet you. Can you keep a secret?

Lamsilia hugged Bosnain tightly. Yes, I can keep a secret.

Bosnain smiled and the two giggled together.

My friend has been in a safe place for a very long time. I did not think that it would take this long to rescue him. I must share with you a poem and you must promise me you will never tell anyone until they ask you for it. My friend also has those who do not want to see him become well again.

Why would anyone want to see your friend remain ill?

My friend is very powerful. He can make great changes to the world. Since he is not well, he may not know if the changes he is making are good changes or bad changes. Only until he is well can he understand that the changes he is capable of making are good changes. That is why he is hiding in secret.

Lamsilia smiled and her eyes sparkled. I will heal him. I promise. Just let me practice for a time. I am new to The Protectorate, after all.

Oh my brave child, if only it were true, Bosnain held Lamsilia. This secret I am about to tell you is for you alone. In the future if you are not approached for the secret then you must choose another to carry it, giving them the story and instructions I am about to give you.

On my honor, Lamsilia promised.

Very good, Bosnain smiled with joy. Now listen carefully, and remember that this is our secret. Never speak of what I am about to tell you unless a situation arises which compels its release.

The apple grove fell away and with it her conversation so long ago with Bosnain. The Salon of Enlightenment disappeared in the distance and she floated northwest to the human areas, the Great Plains, the land located in the Spardune Valley. This was the birthplace of her family and the place where she retired many cycles ago after leaving The Protectorate and other leadership responsibilities she had accrued.

She approached the small thatched building that was her home quietly and it appeared exactly as she had left it when Basim had come to call upon her. The chimney was void of smoke and her flowers in the garden moved silently with the wind as it blew across them from the energy of the plains. On her wooden porch a set of chimes dinged softly in the breeze and she longed to return to her home. That longing was stolen from her as she was swept away again, this time south towards Frontentia.

The Monsain River exploded with fury, the mist from the water’s force creating rainbows along the riverbank. It was morning there and she floated past the large trees that guarded the banks of the great river. She noticed a group by the riverbank and she floated towards them but as they slept they did not notice her presence. There were five dark elves sleeping in a small camp with a human surrounded by wolves. As she floated into the camp a wolf raised its head and she became mesmerized by the animal’s green eyes. The animal lay there calmly looking at her, its tongue panting and fur covering one of the elves and the human. She moved closer to the group just by thinking about it and was bewildered at the human with the elves. The wolves surrounded him and a dark elven female. The human wore dark elven armor, his chest rising and falling in troubled sleep.

The wolf with green eyes whined slightly and she drew her attention back to the animal for a moment. She stared into the animal’s eyes and they appeared familiar but the thought passed quickly. She moved back to the human again, an invisible hand reaching to touch his face. In a flash she left the group as silently as she had arrived, her spirit crashing back into its place at the Salon of Enlightenment.

Baroness, a voice whispered. Baroness, you are having nightmares. Plaxico told me to wake you if this occurred.

Lamsilia opened her eyes and her lips smacked together with dehydration. She wearily motioned for some water and the disciple of The

Protectorate understood the demand, reaching for a cup made from atlantanar and filling it. The disciple moved carefully to Lamsilia, raising her head to help her drink from the cup. Lamsilia swallowed the water and then rested her head gently back upon the pillows of the large bed that she was currently laying upon. She turned to look at the young woman before her and then she scanned the room, recognizing the familiarity of her surroundings but was unsure about exactly where she was.

Where are we? Lamsilia struggled to ask.

The disciple took her wrinkled hand gently and smiled. You are safe now. You are at the Salon of Enlightenment in the chambers of The Protectorate.

How…How did I get here?

Plaxico formed a party and we were dispatched to retrieve you.

The memories came flooding back then. Basim was leading her south through the Great Plains and then they encountered the first Orc patrol. Her eyes lit up with fear then as the events returned and she looked to the young woman with terror.

It is safe, the young woman told her. It is also very late. Your elven companion is also safe, if that is another reason for your despair.

Lamsilia looked up into the eyes of the young woman and she could feel a solid pressure gaining