The Unworthy and The Damned Read online

  "You're awfully quiet considering we're almost ready to save those people," Edge said. "Something wrong?"

  "No, just thinking."

  "About what?"

  Obviously she couldn't tell him the truth. Maybe if she brought up something else she was concerned about, it would seem genuine enough for him to buy it. "That thing... the cemetery golem as you called it, you said the knowledge to make it was lost? But if it appeared, doesn't that mean somebody has rediscovered it?"

  He bit his lip. "I imagine it does."

  "What kind of person would resort to such evil magic, desecrating the graves of the dead in order to use them as a weapon? Not to mention likely spreading disease wherever it goes."

  "There are some foul hearts in this world, even by the standards of assassins. I've heard rumor of at least one man who shares my trade, who goes by the title of Necromancer and manipulates the dead against the living."

  Celia recoiled. "What? Doesn't that mean its target could have been us? That would make sense given how it headed straight for the inn. Why didn't you say anything about this before?"

  "There's, uh, there's no proof the Necromancer I know is the one who created it. Besides, as carefree a princess as Elly seems, if I mentioned this she might've had us detained for the sake of investigation. I especially can't afford that."

  "I guess you're right. I suppose now we'll know to be more careful of dead things."

  "By the way, you look brutally hot. Too bad we couldn't have stopped by a store first for a change of clothes as planned."

  She sighed, but said, "That would have increased our risk of being cornered by the constables. So it couldn't be helped."

  They made it to the plague town without incident, and headed to the mayor's house. Before they got there, she asked a grim-faced man outside, "Do you know Shay? How is she doing? I think she'll be happy to know the medicine is finally here."

  "Shay has died." So soon? Celia's mouth hung open in shock. "She caught the illness from her father, and both passed three nights ago. Was she your friend? I'd say sorry for your loss, but I don't know if there are enough sorries left to go around."

  She gulped, eyes misting up. Not a friend exactly, but the girl's resolve to save her father had moved her and further motivated her to help. Now they were both gone. Having died so recently, she wondered if she might have been in time to save them were it not for the detour. Shit, the world could be cruel. "Is the rest of her family well? I-" She stopped. She would what? She'd considered offering her condolences, but Shay's mother had abandoned her father and no doubt her as well. While that wasn't completely impossible to understand, anything Celia said would be nothing more than empty words in the face of this tragedy. "I'll deliver the medicine right away so as many additional deaths can be prevented as possible."

  They arrived at the mayor's house. Upon opening the door, the weary-looking man stared at the holy cloak she currently wore with the hood down and glanced suspiciously at her new companion. "I've brought the medicine."

  He hesitated with his reply. "I know we had an agreement, but circumstances have changed. With many dying since we last spoke and fewer new victims falling sick than expected, we no longer require as much medicine as I estimated before. I can offer only to buy half that amount, lest our scarce funds go to waste."

  "But more people could become ill in the future," she protested, though her mouth felt even more dry with guilt for arriving late now. "In case of another outbreak, having treatment on hand could mean the difference between few deaths and mass casualties again."

  "With all that has already been lost, we cannot squander what we have left in hopes of mitigating disaster which might not happen. If we are struck by plague again, we will seek the needed aid then—right now, we can only take what we need at the moment."

  Celia supposed she had no choice, outside trying to take the money by force which wasn't the merchant's or a decent person's way. Even if she might've been able to negotiate a larger payment for the medicine the mayor would take, knowing what the village had already been through she didn't have the heart for it. "All right, but I'll at least need payment in full for what you are taking." The mayor agreed, and they made the exchange.

  "At least some people will probably be saved," Edge said as they departed the house, Celia's shoulders slumped dejectedly. She still had half the medicine in her possession, but no use for nor idea how to profit from it. "Though maybe we should have cut down a thin tree and tried to bridge the gap instead of taking the long way around."

  It sure would've been dangerous, but maybe a better idea nonetheless. "You never suggested that when it could have mattered, Mister Hindsight. What now? Time for us to part ways?"

  "And most likely never see each other again. Hope you won't forget the dashing young assassin who embarrassed you that one time."

  "That's not what happened! You won the fight, but I hardly think it's clear cut who would win a rematch."

  "Then, want to try it before we say farewell?"

  She crossed her arms. "I don't fight when it isn't a matter of necessity."

  Edge grinned teasingly. "Come on, you train don't you? And when you train you spar, right? What's the big difference between that and this?"

  "Still. I'm not interested."

  After a pause, he asked, "What are you going to do with the leftover medicine?"

  She didn't know. She could bring it home to her father, but coming back with a bunch of money gone and drugs he would be burdened with selling wouldn't feel good. "There might be other towns suffering from plague not too far from here. I'll ask around, and if I find one maybe I'll go sell them there."

  "If you do, I'll come with you."

  "Why? Don't tell me you've become that attached to my pretty face."

  He snorted. "No. If you sell the rest of the medicine, you'll be helping more sick people. Besides, now that I know the Necromancer might be after you, I'm itching to see how powerful he really is."

  "You want to take him on? But you ran to hide from his creature just like me, what makes you think you can stand against the man himself?"

  "Magical creations aren't necessarily less formidable than the creator, depending on how many resources are put into them. And people have weaknesses, and aren't as sturdy as undead giants... usually at least, princesses possibly excluded."

  After asking around, Celia still warily keeping her distance from those she talked to, they learned the plague was thought to have been brought here from a town in the south. Since her own home lay in the southeast, she shouldn't be going too far out of the way to travel there. "If the other town isn't much smaller though," Edge said, "won't that half order of medicine likely not be enough?"

  "Maybe not for everyone, but every little bit will help. If we try to treat the whole town, we'd have to go there first, find out how much is needed, and then return to the monks... in which case the situation might change again before we get back, and I'm already behind schedule as is. Maybe we could work out something like giving priority to children or people who are more sick, but mainly I just want to get rid of the surplus and help some folks out in the process."

  He gave a brisk nod. "That's fine. Although you might feel remorse when you see there isn't enough for all the desperate people."

  "A little, perhaps. But life isn't full of perfect solutions. Often you just have to do your business and move on."

  "I hear that."

  They traveled south over mostly flat terrain, a welcome change from the hilliness that wore on Celia. When their destination came into view, they saw that while slightly larger than the last town, it still didn't seem suited to being called large. Maybe the distribution of medicine wouldn't be as problematic as she'd worried, though it was at least big enough to have a proper inn instead of just extra rooms rented out by residents. Asking around, they learned the settlement was ruled by a minor lord called Baron Fogle. They made their way to his small bright red manor, which stuck out like a sore thumb among
the shabby huts surrounding it. After she introduced herself to the butler who answered the door, he led them to the lord and lady who sat dining in a chamber lavishly decorated with paintings and sculptures. Many of the central figures depicted in the art resembled the baron, but they might just be famous ancestors. As soon as Fogle spoke, Celia knew they were not off to a good start.

  "Who disturbs our dinner at this hour?" snapped the obese noble, crumbs falling from his mouth as his second chin jiggled with almost exaggerated vigor. "Dog, have you forgotten proper manners?"

  Celia feared Edge would snap and attack him until the butler replied and she realized "dog" referred to him. "They say they can treat the plague, so I thought it might be worth-"

  "So you did not 'think' to ask me first? Who gives a fuck about the plague, it has not touched us has it?"

  "The people..." the butler began while Edge audibly gnashed his teeth, but then stopped as in fear of further raising his lord's ire.

  The baroness, a pale woman with blond hair in a tight bun, chimed in. "Hold, dear husband. While their timing might be questionable, do we not acknowledge disease to be the concern of all near it?" Celia exhaled in relief. Finally someone spoke sense. "If they have a cure to offer, perhaps we should hear them."

  "Out with it, then!" the man of the house spat along with literal spittle. "I assume you come to give charity, and only ask my approval before aiding the poor peasants?"

  "Actually, I'm here to sell." She described the product, how much she had and her initial estimated charge. "Although I can't control what you do with merchandise once it's yours, I would appreciate if you could give priority to treating sick children and then others who are less likely to recover on their own. I might even offer a discount on your word that you would..."

  He didn't even seem to hear the last part. "What a ridiculous cost! To take that much out of my own pockets to save stinky peasants? You must think me some kind of saint, to imagine-"

  "You're no saint," Edge grumbled under his breath, "but you might become a martyr."

  "What was that you said?"

  Celia groped desperately to salvage the discussion. "Uh, what he means is if God forbid you get sick, your eminent life could tragically be lost like a martyr's. So it would be prudent to take steps to reduce the chance of that. Besides, what do you mean take money out of your pockets? You could tax them further, if you don't have enough from taxing them already." Not that they would appreciate that, but saving lives came first.

  "The tax money is not normally spent on things like that," Baroness Fogle said in a cool voice. "But I would suggest we purchase the medicine. Illness is a very real threat, and we should invest in the future by fighting against it." She flashed her husband a sly look.

  After a moment, he nodded. "All right, we'll take it. Let us finish eating and we can make the exchange."

  Edge touched Celia's arm and whispered, "There's something I need to talk to you about in private."

  "Thank you. Finish your meal at your leisure then, we'll be waiting outside." She exited the room with Edge, looked around to see that nobody was watching. "What's going on?"

  "I don't know if you should give the medicine to them. I suspect they might be planning to hoard it for themselves in case they fall ill instead of treating those in need."

  It wouldn't surprise her given the looks the baron and baroness had exchanged. For him to so easily capitulate likely involved selfish reasons. "But, how can you know that? It's not like we heard them say it, all we have to go on is wild speculation."

  "Why don't we listen in and see if we can get something more solid?"

  "It might not look good if someone caught us eavesdropping, though. You listen, and I'll warn you if anybody approaches. You're probably more used to trying to hear muffled things too, being an assassin."

  He agreed, and leaned his ear against the keyhole while Celia kept an eye out for servants or other people. After a while, he pulled away from the door with a scowl. "I knew it! They plan not to tell anyone about the medicine and save it for if their family gets sick."

  "Are you sure?"

  "The last thing I heard the woman say was 'It may be a sizable investment, but we must sacrifice for the sake of our children.'"

  Celia sighed. She could more than understand valuing one's own blood over outsiders, but to deny other kids who were desperately ill for the sake of a potential scenario that had not yet happened seemed really callous. "What can we do about it, though? I suppose we could sell directly to the villagers, but many of them probably can't afford to pay much, and even then the baron might well take the medicine from them after."

  Edge sneered. "Maybe I should kill those two, and then all will be free to buy as they please."

  "No, that's going too far. We would get put on the chopping block if anybody found out for murdering a lord, and even then the townspeople might not be able to pay unless you plan on going all folk hero and distributing the Fogles' wealth among them too."

  "What, then?" he growled. "Will we hand over the medicine under the pretense we don't know what's really going on?"

  She mulled over it for a minute. "While I don't approve of you killing them, that doesn't mean you might not get to put your assassin skills to use. They're only minor nobles, and don't seem to have a very large force or be particularly hardened against danger." She winked, and sensing what she was about to say he grinned in return. "I wouldn't be surprised if a little scare in the night could make them reconsider going on the wrong path, if the scarer was convincing."

  #

  They sold the medicine as agreed. That night, Celia waited anxiously at the inn, watching out a window for any large group approaching in case Edge's intimidation attempt failed and the couple sent guards after her. To her relief, it was Edge who arrived soon after midnight, calmly ordering a drink before joining her at her table. "I trust your task was a success, judging from your demeanor?"

  "Did you doubt me?" he replied with a smirk. "After I educated the baron and baroness on how a cold blade feels against their skin, they agreed without much resistance to divide up the medicine a bit more evenly." He took a long swig from his mug. "You are a brute, though. I would say I wouldn't have expected you to agree to threats at knifepoint so quickly, except you're the same way about putting crippled Boars out of their misery."

  "We've wasted enough time, so I'm in a hurry. I hope the Fogles don't retaliate against the villagers after we leave, though."

  "I told them I'd be watching. Their eyes seemed terrified enough I doubt they'll try that anytime soon."

  She smiled. "I guess I'll have to put my trust in you and your scariness."

  The next morning, Baron Fogle gave away most of the medicine in the square, though he kept enough to treat his family members if each got infected once. That compromise had been proposed by Edge to make the nobles less adamant in refusing, and she didn't much mind it. As they watched the baron grudgingly pass out the small sacks, an angry-looking man with a raggedy beard said under his breath, "I just hope this stuff actually does some good, not like that other fraud who was here."

  "Fraud?" Celia frowned. "What do you mean?"

  "There was a supposed magic healer here who came just before you, claiming she could cure our sick with her touch. But her 'powers' had no effect, and she fled in shame not long after."

  "Did she try to charge you?"

  "Not initially, no, and obviously not after her failure. Still, I've no doubt that if she managed to fool us, that young fox would have done so eventually."

  It seemed weird to her that somebody would try to demonstrate such esoteric healing techniques if they didn't think they would work. Perhaps the villagers in their disappointment were hasty in labeling the stranger a fraud, when she could actually have been a magic healer but just not powerful enough. "What do you think about this supposed charlatan?" she asked Edge after the medicine had been distributed and Baron Fogle left them with a parting dirty look.

  "I don'
t know, since I never met her. But if they say she's young, I hope we get to meet her in case she might be cute."

  "Really? Wait, what do you mean 'we?' Shouldn't we be parting ways now that the plague medicine is all gone?"

  "That business with the medicine is done, but the Necromancer is still out there. I figure I can stick with you a bit longer to see if he shows up. What, do you want me to leave?"

  While she didn't like to admit it, she would appreciate his help—or just about any help—in the event she had to face whoever created that thing in Lideje. "No, it's quite fine for you to stay. While I'd prefer Eleanor the Unworthy as my companion, I couldn't argue against having any bodyguard being better than none." He punched her arm, making her rub it in pain before hitting him back, and they resumed their journey towards her home.

  #

  Elly entered the vast throne room, having returned after her tiresome meeting with the prince. He was so boring, constantly telling about how great his country was—as if she'd ever want to leave her beloved homeland, even if not for the problem of her being the current heir. She had to walk across quite an expanse of smooth marble floor to reach her father, and wondered if at his age he wished the chamber wasn't so extravagantly big. It did allow for the king to keep an imposing distance from supplicants, which she supposed might be the idea. He was in his early sixties, but looked a decade older to her, rulership having worn heavily on him. Alone he stooped forward in his chair, as if the weight of the crown surrounding his few remaining wisps of hair dragged his head and body downward. It at once saddened her and made her afraid, wondering what she would do if he were suddenly gone.