The Nekromancer - 7. Chapter 7

The first thing he noticed was how nice the building was. No decaying corpses, no prisoners screaming in agony. Amnor Sen wondered if this really was the necromancer's den.

"Please, sit," the necromancer smiled, guiding them into a comfortable looking sitting room.

The cleric and the paladin sat on separate chairs, Jakun lowering himself to his knees between them.

"Excuse me, I did not give you permission to sit. Have you forgotten all your training in your night on the run?" the necromancer snapped at Jakun. "Fetch us drinks. The sixty three Chelaxian will do."

Jeremy chuckled, doubting anything that fine would be found here. A bottle of Chelaxian would be far too expensive to waste on them.

"We're discussing his freedom. Should he not remain here to listen?" the man pointed out.

"Yes, but until his freedom is procured, the cat still belongs to me," Loran said, relaxing into his own chair.

Jakun bowed his head slightly, Jeremy removing his bindings. The neko hurried from the room, returning a few minutes later with a trio of wine glasses filled with a deep purple liquid. Jeremy accepted his glass with a smile, taking a moment to sniff at it.

Just a sip was enough to conclude this was no Chelaxian wine. It was Korvosan at best, a cheap tasting vintage that nearly curdled in the mouth.

Still, it was alcohol, and Jeremy wasn't about to say no to it. Though Amnor Sen certainly wasn't enjoying it.

"So, can you explain to me why he doesn't talk?" the paladin said. "A silent slave must be rather… difficult. Especially as you were using him for his spells, correct?"

"That can be removed, if it is a concern of yours. But removing it will add to the price," Loran brushed off. "Now, before we go any further, I discovered this morning that he stole the workbook I allowed him to use. I would like it returned."

Jeremy and Amnor Sen traded looks. A missing book?

"We haven't found anything on him, though to be fair, I am not in the habit of feeling up runaway slaves," Amnor Sen said drily.

"You should get into the habit. It can be rather exciting," the necromancer chuckled, staring at Jakun rather hungrily. "I have an offer for you. You want his freedom, right? It just so happens I haven't felt the touch of a warm body in years-"

"No," Jeremy said immediately.

"You have a slave. Why didn't you use him?" Amnor Sen asked curiously.

"Because Jakun is a very special cat. But, since he can no longer be used… shame he's undead though. I've never been a fan of necrophilia…"

Loran tsked sadly, shaking his head.

"Well, with that off the table, tell me, just what is his freedom worth to you?"

The question stumped them both. Jeremy glanced at Amnor Sen before speaking up.

"I would give my life for his freedom," the cleric said tightly.

Loran's eyes widened.

"Well, I believe we have-"

"Nothing. We have nothing," Amnor Sen snapped. "Shut up and let me do the haggling," he added, glaring at Jeremy.

"So, we have an offer of eternal servitude in exchange of a cat. I'm going to need something as good or better," Loran smirked.

"Might I remind you that the cat is worthless to you?"

"I never said he was worthless. Merely useless. There is a difference."

Amnor Sen ground his teeth, sipping at the wine. Fucking Jeremy and his big mouth…

"I am not in the habit of pricing slaves," he admitted carefully. "How much is an amurran worth?"

"I bought his mother for a thousand gold. He is worth considerably more to me."

"Naturally. This wand would sell for around eight hundred gold," Amnor Sen said, setting it on a table.

"And you say it would match his abilities?" Loran asked, picking the device up.

"He was the one who put the spell into it, under my direction," Jeremy mentioned.

"Then we are doing good. Just another four hundred gold ought to do it," Loran said with a large smile.

Jeremy sighed, looking at Amnor Sen. Between them, they had barely two hundred in coin, the remnants of Amnor Sen selling his shop.

With a wince, the cleric pulled out his wand.

"This should pay for at least three hundred," he said, setting the wand on the table beside the other one. "It will turn any water into alcohol."

He drained his wine before calling forth water to refill the glass. Pulling out a vial of greensting venom, Jeremy let a drop of venom fall into the water, tapping it with the wand. The water took on an almost amber appearance, and he sipped at it, before passing it to Loran to taste.

"That is rather handy. But I noticed a few… choice poisons there. Perhaps those are on the table as well?" Loran suggested.

The thought of losing his poisons was almost too much. Closing his eyes, the man took a deep breath, before setting his case on the table.

"The greensting is my favourite. There's about seventy gold worth here… all harvested and preserved personally," he said, setting the vial of liquid out. "Or the deathcap, perfect for when you want a hint of nuttiness to your drink."

"And the wolfsbane?"

Jeremy sighed.

"Again, harvested and preserved by myself. There's 300 gold worth of it here," he said, setting the large vial out.

"How about 250, you keep the wand, and I'll free the cat? The alcohol wand, that is. I still very much want the summoning wand. It is marvelously crafted," the necromancer smirked.

"It's a deal."

Jeremy held out his hand, Loran shaking it with a greasy smile.

"Jakun, enjoy your freedom, while it lasts," the necromancer said.

"Freedom? No, we purchased him. You belong to us legally," Amnor Sen frowned. "If you want freedom, you better work for it."

Both Jeremy and Loran scowled at the paladin, though the cat threw himself at the elf's feet, a grateful smile on his face as he choked out a sentence.

"Thank… you master… I won't… disappoint you."