Rise of the Dead Prince (13 page)

“
LEAVE HER ALONE, YOU FILTHY ANIMALS
!” he yelled with the last ounce of his strength he possessed. The force of his own voice nearly caused him to faint. The world started to gray around the edges. Meier slowly let out what he was sure would be his final breath. He thought of one or two things that he regretted, things he would have loved to do just once, things that were now impossible. Meier suddenly heard a voice with his waking ear, but he smiled a cruel and pained grin. It couldn’t have been. He had just been wishing for
her.

“
MEIER
!” yelled the voice. It was high-pitched and near to shrieking. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning flew across the camp, but it was not the kind that came from the sky. In fact, it was black, shining, and gigantic. It crashed right into him, jarring his teeth in his head and rolling him across the mud. He felt the grip on his neck loosen and the finger daggers relent. He did not need to be given another moment’s warning. Meier renewed his fight; and, somehow, in the haze, he managed to pull free. He found his feet, but as he looked around, he did not believe his own eyes. The skeletons were in complete disarray. Something had scattered them like a house of cards! Pieces of crawling torso and twitching limb were everywhere. Something had caught them off guard, and that thing happened to be the strongest stallion in Valahia. His name was Dias, and never had Meier seen a more magnificent animal. Dias’s charge mowed through the tightly packed crowd of bones like a scythe through c
haff.

And then he saw her, straddled atop the broad back of the beast. It was Allie! And it could have been no other, for Dias would suffer no other riders except she and her fa
ther.

Meier gazed up at her in the high saddle, his face full of dumbfounded wonder. In one hand, she held a pitchfork as though it were a war maiden’s spear. In the glistening tines was a mangled piece of rib cage. Her pretty visage was twisted into a war face. Before Meier could compose himself, a bonewalker lunged for her from behind. Meier started to cry out, but there was no need. She had already turned and scooped it into the air like refuse. With a deliberate gesture, she tossed the beast into the path of Dias’s powerful back legs; and without command, he dashed the thing to smither
eens.

Reality focused again. Meier needed to get out of there! More and more were coming every minute. He looked at Callista’s wound. It looked deep, but regardless, he couldn’t afford
not
to mount up. She did not protest. She would have carried him anywhere at that point. One thing she would not have done was
walk
. In one painful swoop, the battered Meier hoisted himself on to the equally battered Callista. Allie turned and rode to his
side.

“Hurry!” she yelled in his face authoritatively. Meier obeyed at once. Dias seemed to give Callista a similar nudge in the equestrian language. He pushed her with his broad shoulder, and she snorted in assent. Together they galloped back the way they came and did not stop until they were halfway back to Ta
rgov.

Meier’s banishment was going worse than expe
cted.

20
The Battle Maiden

I
t was Callista’s limp that finally caused them to stop fleeing. She could run no further. Meier reached down to inspect the wound. It was not as deep as he had thought, but it was still nasty enough to keep her from running for a good while. Luckily, the bleeding had slowed, and all that remained was a cruel-looking gash across her foreleg. All present were out of breath except for Dias, who looked to be as fresh as the moment he had arrived. Meier took a minute to marvel at the muscle tone on the massive stallion. He was like an ebony statue, glistening in the rain. When his eyes met Meier’s, he snorted aggressively. Meier startled slightly. Dias was majestic to the point of being terrifying. He was a king among horses through and through, and his smoldering glare showed that he knew this. This is why it was so strange to see a petite stable maid mounted on him so confidently. The contrast between the two was as night is to day. Meier’s belabored bout of panting and reverie was abruptly snapped by a sudden explosion of w
ords.

“What is
wrong
with you?” she yelled in Meier’s face. “Do you know how
STUPID
you are to go riding along without a care when the world has turned upside-down?” Through the rain, it was still clear that she was red-faced and shedding tears of pure anger. Meier was too stunned to respond at first. Yes, he supposed his actions had been careless, but rather than respond to the tirade, he said the first thing that came to
mind.

“Thank you, Allie,” he said with a bow from atop Callista. “You saved my life
…
whatever it is.” His words were calm and clear. He managed to smile. This appeared to have no effect on Allie. She calmed down for perhaps a full second before shouting at him a
gain.

“You’re welcome, you fool! We are lucky to be alive, you and I! Were it not for the fact that Dias is faster than the wind, you would be
GONE
, Meier!
GONE
! And what would your people do then? What would
I
…
or any of us
do
then?” Her voice grew quiet, and slowly she began to sob but somehow managed to quickly compose herself. Her face grew angry again, as though she was upset with herself over the outburst. Meier was stunned by what he was hearing, but not so much that he hadn’t begun to unders
tand.

“I’m sorry, Allie. I really, truly am
…
I had no idea what it was like outside the city
…
” he trailed off. Again, she took a deep breath as if to begin shouting at him again, but this time, she refrained. Her eyes turned suddenly and uncharacteristically
cold.

“I know, Meier. That is why we came the second I heard you had
banished
yourself,” she said then scoffed. Her voice took another upward turn. “Luckily, I was in town today to get supplies! Oh but, Meier, if you only knew what was out here!
Please
come back to Targov with me!” It was clear that there was a good reason that Allie had been nowhere to be seen for the past few weeks since the onset of the troubles. Meier was slowly putting together
why.

“Allie, what has happened to you?” he asked, ignoring her plea. She answered by sliding off Dias and reaching into her saddlebags. She rooted around for a few seconds in silence and withdrew a large pouch. Careful not to get the whole contents wet, she withdrew a fistful of finely powdered herbs, and then without warning, she slapped them on Callista’s wound and held them there. Callista tried to rear, but Meier held her in p
lace.

“This will stop the bleeding and ease the pain. I have to hold it here for another minute, since we have no way to bind or bandage her wound,” she said curtly. All her tears had disappeared. Her expression remained stern. Allie’s eyes were almost cruel in appearance, and this is what Meier might have believed had he not known her. What could have happened to transform the shy and sweet girl he knew into hardened soldier he saw before him? He need not have asked, for the answer was becoming more and more obv
ious.

“They’re all gone, Meier,” she said softly. Her face was softening by degrees. Meier just nodded. She could have been talking about none other than her own family. There were many such stories these days, and Meier’s own tale was no exception. It seemed that everyone had lost much. But it seemed also that Allie had lost more than most. The minute passed in silence. Meier could think of nothing to say or ask. Nothing seemed appropriate. Finally, Allie gave one last firm push into Callista’s wound and rubbed it in. Callista whinnied in pain, but again, Meier was able to calm her. Allie winced as well. When she let go, the bleeding had stopped entirely. She crossed to the front of Callista and put her hands on either side of her face. The scared look in Callista’s eyes soon f
aded.

“I am so sorry,” Allie said, looking up at her with feeling. She embraced Callista’s neck with both arms. Callista leaned forward and nudged her gently. There were no hard feel
ings.

“We will have to walk her slowly back to Targov, Meier. It would be best if you walked alongside her and only mount if they come again,” Allie said with authority. Allie jumped in a graceful arc on to the waiting back of Dias. Already the stallion had begun to stamp with impatience. “Dias and I will guard you until then,” she said finally. Allie raised her eyebrows at him in the way that intransigent mothers do to their defiant chil
dren.

Meier took a deep breath. “Allie
…
I’m not going back,” he said evenly. Allie tensed in the overlarge saddle. Somehow she had known he would say
that.

“You don’t have a
choice,
Meier,” she said emphatically. “Just look at what happened already!” Meier looked again at Callista’s wound. She was right to say it, of course, but it didn’t change the one thing that Meier knew for cer
tain.

“You’re right, Allie. I don’t have a choice. That’s why I have to go south into the swamps,” he said, matching her tone and demeanor. She did not reply. Her body stayed rigid. “Don’t you see? I have to go where the dead are going!” Meier said a little louder than he meant to. “I have to find the
source
of it all. And all
this
has only proven one terrible thing, Allie. It looks as though I have to do this alone.” Slowly, the words sank in for both of
them.

Meier dismounted and pulled the saddlebags from Callista’s back. From these he removed a few small items and placed them in the pouch on his belt. The rest of it was treats for Callista anyway. To this end, he removed a final item and offered to her. It was a green apple, her favorite; and once offered, she bit into it gratefully. With a turn, he replaced the saddlebags to Callista’s back. He wiped and sheathed the rickety saber, and there it hung opposite the dull dagger on his waist like a humorless joke. He put his hands on his hips and tried to look s
tern.

Allie looked down at the ridiculous Meier then tossed her head and growled in frustration. Her lips were pursed, as though she were stifling another emotional explosion. She looked at him again then scoffed and tossed her head once more. Meier just fixed his gaze on her and held it. Deep within his cold chest, his torpid heart had begun to beat quickly. His thoughts turned to the ride at dawn that they had shared a lifetime ago. He didn’t fully understand what he was feeling, but he felt it very stro
ngly.

She looked at him yet again, and she saw the resolve in his eyes. She could bear it no longer. She screamed at the top of her girlish lungs, throwing her head back into the falling rain. Dias reared and whinnied. He did not know why his rider was mad, but if she was, then he was too. Allie’s shriek of pure frustration caused the hairs on the back of Meier’s neck to stand on end. Aside from his mother, no one had ever been this mad at him. Quicker than a blink, Allie jumped up and out of the saddle and with four curt strides around Dias was standing practically nose to nose with Meier. He had to look down to meet her gaze, as she was a full head shorter. Her tiny fists were clenched so hard that her sharp knuckles had turned w
hite.

“Do you actually
want
to die, Meier?” she yelled in his
face.

“I already
did,
Allie!” he retorted, pulling the glove from his left hand. He waved the skeletal hand around so she could see it. She batted his bony arm away without flinc
hing.

“You know what I meant! Something brought you back, and you want to throw it all away? You’re so selfish!” she screamed, her voice cracking slightly. Meier took a deep breath. The last thing the conversation needed was another hysterical party. At least that’s how he would have described
her.

“I have to do this, Allie. It’s the only way,” he said as calmly as he c
ould.

“Do what?” she yelled. “No one comes back from the south, Meier! No one!” Meier put his good hand on her stiff shou
lder.

“No one comes back
alive
, Allie,” he said softly. “That’s why it has to be
me.
” He pressed his skeletal thumb into his c
hest.

Allie shrugged his hand off her shoulder. Her chin began to quiver. Quite suddenly, she fell apart. Allie started crying violently and honestly. All the grief in her was leaking out. Before Meier could move to comfort her, she reached out with both arms and ensnared him. She grabbed him by the middle and pulled him close, smashing her face against his cold c
hest.

“You’re just like him, Meier,” she said through her tears. Meier could guess who she meant. Dias, as if somehow knowing, turned his august head and pressed it to her back gently. Callista, as if struck by the same concern, did the same against Meier. “He said that he would come back,” she sobbed and squeezed Meier even tighter. “And he
did,
Meier
…
but not like you
…
Oh, Meier!” Allie’s whole body shook with grief. These were the tears of a girl grieving for her fa
ther.

Irwin had been a good man. Meier only had met him once, but his was a firm handshake and an honest smile. As the master of the most magnificent horse in Valahia, he was something of a celebrity. Seated on the back of Dias, he had looked like a king himself. Meier knew that Allie had been the youngest of her family, with two older brothers and an older sister that had married and moved away. What he did not know was that her mother and brothers had been taken by the plague, leaving only her and her father. When Allie had disappeared from the castle, Meier feared the worse. In a way, being in her still living arms was the greatest relief he had felt since the troubles had begun. He slowly returned her embrace with
both
of his arms. She had not cared about his condition. She had not cringed from his hand. Whatever else might have been, she could never have given a greater gift than this. Meier felt an odd sensation, the first he had felt since his death. Hot as a coal on his algid cheek, a single tear formed and fell in a warm streak. He wept for her loss, but he also wept for himself. Above all this was the happiness he felt, there in her arms. More than ever, he wished he were truly a
live.

“He took Dias, and he went to fight them,” Allie sobbed and was unable to continue for a while. She was wracked with grief, and it was all coming out for the first time since it had happened. Meier just held her. What else could he do? The rain poured down, as though the whole of heaven was weeping with her. If only his embrace had been warmer, thought Meier, it might have given her more comfort. “Dias brought him home two days later,” she bawled. “But he wasn’t the same
…
he was bitten and broken, limp in the saddle
…
and he was burning up, Meier. Oh, he was so hot! I tried to nurse him, Meier
…
I tried so hard!” Allie loosened her grip on Meier momentarily, only to squeeze him again even harder than she previously had. “He died that night, Meier! Just like Mama and my brothers had!” Allie began to cry even harder, so much so that she started to slip and fall to the cold, wet ground. Meier lifted and held her to his chest, but when she started to go limp, her arms slowly began to slip through his grip. Rather than let her fall, he knelt in the mud and held her
fast.

“I know I should have burned him, Meier, but it was raining the next morning
…
so I just sat with him, holding his hand and crying for him. Dias stood in the doorway watching us the whole time. He never left, Meier. Never once!” she said and then reached out for Dias. He craned his head down gingerly to meet her touch. Allie slowly started to regain her composure, though her face was still twisted in sorrow. “I fell asleep, Meier
…
I was so tired that I couldn’t help it
…
and while I was sleeping
…
he rose,” she said. She squinted hard at the pain of the memory. “It was Dias that woke me
…
he was stamping at the doorstep like he was trying to get into the house
…
and then I saw Papa,” she said, and then she let out another hard sob. “He was
one of them
, Meier, and he was wandering around the house, bumping into things like a sleepwalker. The second he saw me move, he jumped at me! I couldn’t move at first, but then Dias stamped hard and snorted, and it woke me up again. I ran out of the door, past Dias and Papa into the
yard.”

Allie stopped crying almost completely, and again, her voice became steady. “It was Dias that saved me, Meier. He saw Papa coming after me, but he knew it wasn’t Papa. He shielded me with his body, and then with one kick
…
Oh, Meier!” she screamed, suddenly bawling again. Her body shook as the grief poured out of her. Meier didn’t know what to do, so he just held on. Her voice grew steady again, and she broke free from the embrace, holding Meier at an arm’s length. “He did it for me, Meier, because he knew I couldn’t have,” she said, “and since that day, we have fought them together.” Allie wiped her eyes, but in the rain, there was little point. Still it was necessary, for as she saw it, warriors did not cry this way. “And that’s what I do now, Meier
…
I lay them to rest. I get as many as I can
…
or should I say,
we
get as many as we can. When I’m tired and hungry, I go to Targov. The guards have long since stopped trying to dissuade me from leaving again.” Meier looked into her eyes, even as she averted her
gaze.