The Nekromancer - 63. Chapter 63

The prisoners ate voraciously, Jeremy frowning at the sight. The world was hungry, and it made people desperate.

He couldn't believe what they had told him. And as the caravan broke camp, the cleric tried to rationalize everything he had learned.

The farming village had been attacked by two mages, burning everything to the ground and destroying the crops that had been stored for the winter. A halfling and a human, both unstoppable, arrows bouncing off their flesh, swords breaking against their robes. These prisoners were the result of more than a raid. From what they told him, those mages weren't raiders, they were murderers.

And the result was an entire village wiped out.

It got worse. Jeremy didn't think anything could be worse, but it was. A note had been left for the survivors, detailing a caravan schedule, promising food and shelter for the taking. It directed them to attack in Nex, promising safety from the law.

"So stupid…" the cleric sighed, moving over toward a wagon. "They should have just joined us and let us see them to Longjaw."

He climbed on the back, calling out a marching chant as the caravan started moving, channeling energy to speed up the wagons as other voices responded. They would make it to Finderplain by afternoon, and he was going to have a night alone with his husband. Jeremy would have it no other way.

And it wasn't long before they finally caught sight of the first town on the way to Longjaw. The houses of Finderplain were transitory buildings, small and gnomish. Their denizens came and went with the seasons and their whims, each one granted their own obsession in a life near immortal.

It was as good a town as any for light trading and a momentary respite from the road.

Amnor Sen spent nearly an hour trying to house the caravan, making sure everyone and everything was secure. He couldn't wait to be alone with his husband, to hold him and kiss him.

Already the cleric was drinking, a gnome bringing over an entire pint of ale. And Amnor Sen knew then, the news was bad. Jeremy drank a lot, too much, but the cleric had never drained an entire pint of ale on his own. Wine, yes, but he always claimed ale was something to drink in moderation. The paladin never understood it, but he never questioned it either.

"What's the bad news?" the elf muttered, sliding into a seat across from Jeremy.

"They were driven from their home. Attacking the caravan was orchestrated by someone else," Jeremy grunted. "I helped kill a village."

"You defended us," Amnor Sen denied.

"I killed his brother. The guy with the sword? He was the village's best guard."

The cleric drank deeply, a haunted look in his eyes.

"You've killed before," Amnor Sen pointed out. "If you are that upset, why don't we free them? I have a couple daggers I can give them and we are in a town. I'm sure they can find their way."

Jeremy sighed quietly, shaking his head.

"They still attacked. It was their choice."

The cleric frowned at the sight of Niss sitting nearby, a monstrous hyena woman sitting across from her with a massive morningstar across her back.

"What in the Nine Hells is she doing?" Amnor Sen scowled.

"Getting rid of slaves. That's all they're good for, right?" Jeremy spat.

"The prisoners? Fuck, did she set this all up?!" Amnor Sen growled.

"Looks like the bad guys won this time…"

"The fuck they did…"

The paladin grabbed Jeremy, pulling the man away from his drink.

"Come on. We're dishing out justice," he growled, dragging Jeremy toward the stable behind the tavern.

The prisoners were sitting bound against a pole, both looking up at Jeremy and Amnor Sen.

"Please… we told you everything…"

Amnor Sen pulled out a dagger, kneeling beside the two. He slashed their arms quickly, both letting out cries of pain.

"Amnor Sen! What the fuck-!"

Jeremy stared in shock as the paladin ripped the manacles off the two prisoners.

"You have paid in blood for your crimes. Go in peace and never go against the law again," Amnor Sen hissed.

The two stared in pained amazement, unbelieving.

"Go!" Amnor Sen snapped.

Standing shakily, one of the men turned and sprinted out of the stable, the other scrambling after him.

"You are taking justice into your own hands?" Jeremy hissed as Amnor Sen stalked out of the stable.

"She fucked them over. I don't know the details, but I know she was behind their village's destruction. I dealt out the proper justice for attacking a caravan. They will not forget it."

The paladin reentered the tavern, heading to pay for a room.

"This is not worth the four hundred gold they're paying…"

"Six hundred now, actually. They said six thousand gold to the guards upon arrival. There's only ten of us left," Jeremy sighed.

He watched the gnoll leave, Niss standing from the table. Heading straight toward the orc, the cleric pointed back to the table.

"Join me for a drink?"

"Actually, I need to make sure the wagons are secure."

"Amnor Sen did that already. Who was the gnoll?"

"Oh… just a representative from the tribes between here and Longjaw. I was negotiating safe passage for the caravan."

"You understand my religion will not allow you to sell those men into slavery, right?"

"I understand that you do not have a choice. They belong to me as the head of the caravan."

Niss smirked at the cleric.

"They were my slaves the moment we tied them up."

Jeremy growled at the orc.

"I do not like you. Mark my words, someday you will get what is coming to you, and on that day, Cayden Cailean will rejoice."

"Too bad I don't hold a drunkard dear to my heart," Niss grinned.

Standing up, Jeremy hurried away from the table. He needed to leave, get away from the orc before he did something rash. Amnor Sen would have been proud, but at the moment, the cleric didn't care.