83rd Day of Ash, 122nd Year of the Age of Steel
Masagh was examining the maps again, sitting alone in the library. While Sabrione and Riah were stretched thin with the duties of the knights, he had been left to his own devices while his arm healed and regained strength. He was in a space he hadn’t been since his childhood, one of solitude. There was a time in the Compound day to day when all were busy with their work, and he found himself with only the necromancy and surgery lessons to fill the time.
So here he was, chasing half-truths and rumors in old sea charts. If there was a lich lair to the north, he would find it. His grey finger scanned the jagged coastal coves. What lost knowledge could have survived within he was not sure. How likely it was that some lich had obtained something Emerande did not already have, he was equally unsure of. But she did maintain a private collection of spell books within her suite. So there was some knowledge she kept from the house in general. His mind raced, imagining what necrotic arts those could be. It was a useless endeavor really, his only experience with the craft was the mixing of ichor, the most basic task.
A clamor at the door made him look up hastily. The mother and children he and the knights had rescued at the beginning of the season came in. Ellen, her name was, was heavy with pregnancy now. The two children had the eager energy of children truly at home. Masagh relaxed and watched them bustle in. Ellen chided them to calm down but the boy ignored her after he caught sight of Masagh sitting at one of the tables.
“Sir Masagh!” He yelled as children do, equating volume with excitement. He padded over and sat down across from Masagh uninvited. “Whatcha looking at.” He gazed down at the sea chart and pushed himself up on the table with his elbows, immediately clambering to tuck his knees under him.
The mother and sister trailed after him.
“Is that a treasure map?” The girl asked, standing behind her brother and peering down at the se chart.
Masagh laughed. “No, no. This is just an old sea trade chart.” Masagh said dismissively. He waved a hand over it and leaned back. “Just a bit of business. What are you three up to?”
“Just trying to stay busy.” Ellen said, raising her eyebrows at him over their heads. It was a constant battle, keeping children busy and out from underfoot. Not that he had any experience with the task.
“I have to study before I can become a knight like you.” The boy rattled off, leaning over the sea chart and tracing the coast with his finger.
Masagh’s mind went to Calliope. First to her wild cackling laugh and reckless bravado, then to her broken corpse lying alone in the grass. He blinked and shot a look at Ellen. She appeared to be thinking along similar lines.
“Well you know, I’m not just a knight.” Masagh heard himself saying. “I also help the Bonecasters craft magical wands and things, it’s very important as well.” He leaned over. “There are only two of us who know how actually. It might be good for the house to have a few more.”
“Huh, do they get their own rooms?” The boy asked, glancing with a frown at his sister.
“Yep, and their own tools that only they can use. I have been building my own set as well.” Masagh said. He grinned at the look Arthur would give him if he brought the surly man another apprentice, let alone a small child.
“And you, how are you settling in this season?” Masagh asked Ellen as she pulled her son off the map.
She gave a brief smile. “Well, we are safe here. Edgar is enjoying the work and after the baby I will begin some projects with the Lady Creth. Until then we are-“ she tapped both her children on their shoulders imperiously. “Studying.” The two children rolled their eyes with the exaggerated exasperation only children could sincerely manage and stalked off into the shelves to retrieve some tome or another. It was a practiced move, indicating this was a regular activity.
“Glad these dusty old books have some use.” Masagh said, beginning to gather up the sea chart.
She smiled briefly, then her eyes turned to the chart. “We do miss it.” She touched a part of the coast tentatively with her fingertips. Of course, she would recognize the region she had lived in. “But this is a safer place for us. We’re very grateful for what you and your sister and that poor knight did for us.” She met his eyes with her own, sadness heavy behind them.
Masagh felt the memory of Cleon threatening to drag him down into a darker, sadder mood. The knight had been a good and stalwart friend. He rubbed his chin and nodded. “Ah yes, you and your husband grew up around here, correct?”
“Yes, just in the north here.” She said after a beat, ignoring his clumsy side-stepping of her previous statement. She touched the parchment wistfully. “It was a good place to live, but dangerous. Especially after they got spooked into hunting undead.” Her smile turned then.
“What do you mean?” Masagh asked quickly, his head snapping up to look at her.
She started a bit at his sharp interest. “Oh not more ghouls I don’t think. They just found some zombified sailors wandering in from the coast somewhere. A few here and there. Set the villages on edge.”
Undead sailors. Masagh’s mind raced as he tried to keep his face neutral. “Ah no ghouls.” He muttered as his mind once again went to the Ship’s Log entry, found so long ago now. A ship seeking refuge along the coast was accosted by some undead beast and put to sea. Emerande Creth recounting a lich that lived along the same coast long ago. Now a former local speaking of zombies in the area… It could not be coincidence. “What villages were attacked, are they represented here?” Masagh finally asked, hoping his interest wouldn’t get back to Emerande.
“Oh.” Ellen said, blinking to focus again on the map. “I suppose here and… here.” Ellen touched a pair of towns near a string of four or five coves. “Fishermen said they would wander up from the beaches covered in barnacles… horrific really. Well, the idea was quite scary.” Masagh nodded along, preoccupied.
“Right, right.” He muttered. “Any necromancy activity is uh, helpful for us to keep tabs on.” The words stumbled from him. “You know, we want to keep quiet and safe here so this is… helpful.” He tapped the places she had indicated as if to reaffirm them in his memory.
Another piece of the puzzle.
He wasn’t sure what he was doing, trying to find this old lich’s lair. He had begun this journey when he lied to his mother and hid the logbook. The unspoken plan had sat in his gut, too dangerous to even look at with his conscious mind. He simply acted to further it whenever he found the chance, like now. It seemed the fates were dropping another piece into his lap. Soon he would have to fly north to search in earnest or else lose his mind.
“Do you think you could do that, Sir Masagh?” Ellen was saying. Masagh shifted her gaze back up to her. He had been so caught up in his reverie he hadn’t heard whatever she had been saying to him.
“I’m sorry, I was lost in thought, the injury you know.” Masagh clumsily excused himself. “What did you say?”
She smiled briefly. “Yes, of course. I was saying do you think you could talk to this Bonecaster about Deren working in the laboratory? I do like that more than him aspiring to be a Knight… not that it is a bad calling.” She stumbled over the last as though he would take offense at her wanting to keep her son safe. Deren, that was his name.
“Ah yes, of course. It’s a good line of work and can keep one quite busy all by itself.” Masagh said. “I’ll speak to Arthur, he’s the chief rune forger here.” He gave her a brief smile. “Well, I will concede the table to you all and your studies. I worry my mother will come hunting me with a net if I keep her waiting much longer.” He rolled the sea chart up deftly and tucked it under his arm. Deren and his sister came back with a set of books, chalk, and slate.
They sat down with the glum look Masagh recognized from his own youth, and he thought, all children must get when faced with a dusty day of study rather than adventure.
“Ah learning our letters?” He stepped back from the table and made a fumbling attempt at more small talk.
“Yes.” The girl’s word was more a sigh.
“Hey it might be boring today,” Masagh said. “Tomorrow it might be very useful.” He held up his attached arm and indicated the thin line of runes around the scar that connected it. “Alright, I’m going to get our of here.” He waved and gave a brief smile before turning to return the sea chart to its shelf.
As he left the library he heard them begin their lessons. Could he afford to find this cove on his own? A beast that could turn away a cutter and zombies washing ashore bespoke of a at least a few necromantic creations still guarding the place. He touched his sword at his side, it had been dormant in its scabbard since he lost the arm. If he could have handled it before, he probably couldn’t now. Before he went galavanting off to the north he needed to regain some strength.