Empire in Chains: Act 4, Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Fifteen minutes later, the Ranger squads returned from the forest. They had hunted down and returned with four civilian labourers and three Workers, while five Workers had escaped into the wooded depths. Captain Germund returned to Rangobart and Baroness Zahradnik after sending the captured men and women to join the other prisoners.

“Roberbad,” he said. “What did the garrison say?”

“I had them send over twelve wagons to cart all this off,” Rangobart gestured to the stockpiles around them. “They asked if there were any casualties, but I said we hadn’t taken any yet…has that changed?”

“No, we’re good,” Captain Germund said. “Hmm…it’s going to take two days for those wagons to get here. We can camp here for the night but we can’t wait for those wagons. Did the garrison say anything about sending another company to take over?”

“No, sir.”

“Make sure that’s straightened out. I don’t want the Commander on my arse because we got stuck guarding these Workers. Lady Zahradnik, we’ll be setting up camp around these confiscated goods, so please feel free to pick out a spot.”

Rangobart’s Message was brief. He spoke up again just as Captain Germund turned away.

“Captain, they sent the Eleventh Company out ahead of the wagons. They should be here by mid-morning.”

“Great. I guess I just have to figure this guard detail out now.”

“If you’d like,” Lady Zahradnik said, “the prisoners can be left to the Undead.”

Even in the dim torchlight, Rangobart could see the blood drain from Captain Germund’s face.

“To watch the prisoners,” the baroness clarified. “We’ve been riding hard all day and we have another long day ahead of us. The Undead don’t need to sleep, but your men do.”

“If you insist…”

“Please, Captain Germund,” Lady Zahradnik said. “I’d rather we not go in that direction. I am not here to dictate to the Imperial Army: I’m here to help.”

The torchlight played over the Captain’s face as he looked at the Baroness. After a long moment, he nodded.

“My men would appreciate the assistance, my lady. Roberbad, let the men know I said so.”

“Yes, sir.”

They watched as Captain Germund strode off, stopping to speak to one of the Sergeants nearby. Rangobart followed Lady Zahradnik as she made her way towards the prisoners. Her exquisite mantle trailed behind her as she stepped silently over the dried grass.

“Do you have any questions about the operation just now, my lady?”

The Baroness slowed to walk beside him.

“It offered some interesting insights that go unstated in official reports,” she said. “In all, it went surprisingly smoothly.”

“Smoothly?”

“Is that not the case?”

“No, it did go well,” Rangobart replied. “It’s just that outsiders usually offer some criticism – especially those unfamiliar with these types of encounters.”

Rangobart had been one such person. Coming from the highly-competitive environment of the Imperial Magic Academy where everything was assessed, graded and ranked, he was highly critical of results that fell short in some way. Back then, he would have considered the escape of five Workers a failure unbecoming of the Imperial Army’s image.

“Rather than offering any criticism,” Lady Zahradnik told him, “I would say that the results are praiseworthy and indicative of the Fifth Company’s quality. The primary objective was to put an end to this particular instance of poaching. Not only did you achieve this, but you managed to capture some of the Workers and all of their civilian collaborators. Workers, like Adventurers, operate in teams so even capturing a few will put them out of commission until they can find suitable replacements and get back on their feet.

“For this accomplishment, the Fifth Company suffered no fatalities, expended no material resources and lost no time. This impromptu operation was both a tactical and strategic success. Furthermore, Captain Germund appears to have a clear grasp of the capabilities of his subordinates and demonstrates care for their well-being. You are part of an excellent company, Officer Roberbad – only the most pretentious, ignorant or callous of individuals would say otherwise.”

He swallowed and focused on their path, fingers fidgeting at his sides. Despite only meeting her earlier that day, Lady Zahradnik’s glowing assessment filled him with an awkward warmth.

“How much space does the company’s camp usually take, Officer Roberbad?”

Rangobart glanced over his shoulder before providing an answer.

“We have that Worker camp with all of its goods in the middle, so the perimeter will probably be another fifty metres out from the edge of that.”

Both the prisoners and the guards looked towards them as they approached. Lady Zahradnik examined them in return, then cast her gaze out to the withered winter meadows beyond.

“Do you have any special procedures for prisoners?”

“Other than ensuring they present no threat to our men and can’t get away, no.”

“What’s going on?” Sergeant Harlow asked.

“Lady Zahradnik is here to take care of the prisoners,” Rangobart answered.

Several of the soldiers nearby twitched. Rangobart winced internally. There must have been a better way to say that. When the Undead were involved, half of the things that anyone said carried unsettling undertones.

“I’ll be assigning some of the Undead to take over so the company isn’t stretched thin by these additional duties,” Lady Zahradnik clarified. “We have another day’s ride ahead of us. Captain Germund has granted us leave to do so.”

The guards looked at Rangobart. He nodded in reply. One of the prisoners watching the exchange spoke up.

“Did…did she just say ‘Undead’?”

“Let’s move them a hundred metres north,” Lady Zahradnik said. “I don’t want the sounds from the prisoners to disturb the camp.”

“Answer me!”

“You heard the lady,” Harlow said. “Move.”

The guards turned to face the prisoners. After several minutes of increasingly panicked questions as they were prodded away with spears, the prisoners were relocated further out into the meadow. The wind rasped through the dead grass, muffling their anxious noises.

“Here’s fine?” Harlow asked.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Hiiiieeee!!!”

A prisoner let out a panicked squeal as pairs of crimson points approached out of the darkness. Men and women fell over one another as they tried to get away. The soldiers struggled to contain them.

『You may withdraw. They have already been surrounded.』

More crimson points appeared. The slow thud of hooves closed in on all sides. Harlow’s men withdrew, jogging back towards the camp.

“H-hey!” Someone cried, “You…you can’t be serious! Don’t do this to us!”

“The gods won’t forgive you!”

“Mama!”

“Sergeant.”

Sergeant Harlow stopped as he was about to walk by.

“Yes, m’lady?”

“What happens to prisoners who cause disturbances or attempt to escape?”

The wailing men and women hushed at her question. Harlow glanced at Rangobart, then back at Lady Zahradnik.

“Depends,” he shrugged. “Sometimes they get an arrow for their trouble. Or they might get ridden down. It’s on them.”

“I see,” Lady Zahradnik said. “Thank you, Sergeant.”

Harlow nodded and went to follow after his men. The two dozen Death Cavaliers closed in, forming a terrifying perimeter around the prisoners. The men and women inside pressed into each other in an effort to get as far away from them as possible. Aside from that, they neither moved nor made a sound.

Upon returning to the camp, they found that the Workers’ tents had been cleared away. An open pavilion was raised in the centre, where Captain Germund and several men were sorting through the seized stockpiles. He looked up as they joined him at his table.

“Two dozen Death Cavaliers for half again their number of prisoners.”

“They were looking for something to do,” Lady Zahradnik replied. “As are the others.”

“Next you’re going to ask if they can take over the night watch.”

“Unfortunately, that part isn’t so straightforward.”

The Captain set down his pen, reaching out for a cup nearby.

“How so?” He took a long draught.

“Death Cavaliers are cavalry. Death Knights are heavy infantry. Death Priests are divine casters. The same general rules as your soldiers apply…they’re just a bit stronger.”

“I guess we’ll need more Rangers and Rogues, then.”

“That would ultimately be up to the Imperial Army,” Lady Zahradnik said, “but the Rangers in your company did well. I thought everything went quite smoothly, in fact. After meeting with the remnants of the Eighth Legion in the south, I had tempered my expectations considerably.”

Captain Germund grimaced.

“We received a report about that…I’m sorry you had to see it, my lady. Rest assured, it won’t happen with the soldiers here…well, not unless you come charging straight at us with them.”

A Wizard came by to drop off a report. The Captain reached over and slid it in front of himself. His mouth moved silently as he read over the content.

“Have you found anything interesting?” Lady Zahradnik asked.

“Not really,” the captain answered. “It’s everything you can expect them to try and make off with from a piece of unspoiled woodland. Rare plants and animals that fetch handsome prices at market. All of the valuable, easy-to-transport goods get snatched up first. They were probably waiting to send out their wagons at around this time to get to the highway under the cover of darkness. Once they found a plausible spot to camp overnight, they’d be hard to tell apart from the rest of the merchant traffic.”

“Would the customs officers suspect anything?”

“That would depend on how well set-up these Workers were for smuggling. The worst-case scenario would be that they have collaborators in a village nearby and they split up their inventories. If they have a way to process their goods, it would become next to impossible to figure out what was going on with a regular customs inspection. The goods themselves aren’t illegal: only the fact that they’ve been stolen from crown lands. No magic or Skill can detect that from a bundle of furs or a jar of dye or whatever they turn this stuff into.”

Rangobart glanced over the list as Lady Zahradnik and Captain Germund spoke. As the Captain had mentioned, nothing was explicitly illegal: they were simply goods that fetched high prices. When he was younger, Rangobart believed that as long as laws were effectively upheld, crime would vanish. After he joined the army and started participating in their law enforcement activities, he found that it was far from the truth.

Upholding law and order was a constant battle between demand and deterrence. What dictated people’s willingness to break the law was whether doing so offered sufficient incentive. All that the army could do was stay endlessly vigilant.

The most ludicrous part was that the more difficult things became for those who engaged in criminal activities, the better they seemed to get at what they did. All that the Empire could do at that point was hope that they had a way to counter those who rose to extraordinary power and acted in highly detrimental ways.

Sometimes, it required complex operations to corner and eliminate them. Other times, it was more efficient to contract other powerful individuals to deal with the problem. Obnoxiously, it was Workers who were the most readily on hand to do those jobs at the cheapest rates.

Another man came by and dropped off more reports. Lady Zahradnik stepped back from the table.

“I should leave you to your work,” she said. “May I position some Undead to help with the night watch?”

“Around the perimeter, sure. I don’t think the men are ready to have Undead standing right over their tents.”

“Thank you, Captain Germund.”

At the perimeter of the camp, the first sentry they approached looked over at Rangobart. It was only after they almost reached him that the veteran Ranger turned his attention to Lady Zahradnik, who was walking ahead of him. Rangobart frowned at the seemingly backwards order of his notice.

“We’re posting Undead to help with the night watch,” she told him. “They should be here shortly.”

“The cap’n know?” The sentry asked.

“He does,” Rangobart answered with a nod. “We’ve stationed a few to watch the prisoners, as well.”

“The prisoners?” The sentry’s lip twitched, “I must’ve missed quite the show. Just lemme know what needs doing, m’lady.”

The Undead – or, more accurately, all of the Undead that weren’t guarding the prisoners – appeared two minutes later, forming into several ranks behind Lady Zahradnik. Eyes shifting back and forth over them, the sentry swallowed.

“You’re only allowed to have one,” the Baroness smiled slightly. “Take your pick out of the infantry.”

“Er…”

A few seconds passed before the sentry pointed at one of the Undead in the centre of the front rank. The Undead soldier, clad in wickedly-spiked black platemail, stepped forward.

“This is a Death Knight,” Lady Zahradnik placed a hand behind the towering Undead warrior’s shoulder. “Are you familiar with them?”

“I seen ‘em at Katze. They, uh…they didn’t do any fighting, though.”

“They are heavy infantry, probably not unlike the heavy infantry in your company. Is that why you chose one?”

“That’s right, m’lady.”

“Hopefully the rest of the men pick up on things as quickly as you do,” the Baroness said. “As you may already understand, you can work together with a Death Knight the same way that you would when paired with one of your heavy infantry. They are excellent on the defence and have a Skill that works similarly to the Martial Arts that draw the attention of their targets.”

The Ranger nodded quietly as Lady Zahradnik spoke. Veterans of the Imperial Army slipped into their roles regardless of the patrols they served in or any changes in assignment, so Rangobart could imagine them making the same associations as they would with any soldier. The Baroness appeared aware of this modular way of thinking and was employing it in ways familiar to the soldiers.

“How much of a fight can they put up?” The Ranger asked.

“Offensively speaking,” Lady Zahradnik answered, “they are roughly the same as a good warrior from a small Adamantite Adventurer team. Defensively, they are over twice as strong as that. Since their skillset primarily revolves around defence, however, they don’t have anything like the high-power advanced Martial Arts that you might be familiar with.”

“Doesn’t that mean we can defend against them with Fortress?”

Lady Zahradnik examined the man, who straightened at her scrutiny.

“You should already be aware that conducting a successful defence depends on many factors. As a rough measure, a company of Royal Earth Guard could probably keep a Death Knight occupied for a while if they are prepared and well-coordinated. As Undead, however, a Death Knight will not succumb to fatigue. It is also durable enough that one of its nastier abilities is likely to come into play long before it is in any real danger.”

“What might this ‘nasty ability’ be, m’lady?”

“Like Wights and several other Undead that you probably know of, Death Knights also raise Undead from the corpses of living beings that they kill. Unlike most, they don’t create more of themselves but a lesser type of Undead called a Squire Zombie. A Squire Zombie is roughly as strong as a Platinum-rank Adventurer, but it is still a Zombie subject to most of what being a Zombie entails. Death Knights can raise enough to form a squad of Squire Zombies under its command. Squire Zombies will, in turn, raise an unlimited number of regular Zombies out of any corpses they are responsible for. This makes Death Knights not only excellent defensive troops but ideal for handling large numbers of weak opponents.”

The Death Knight seemed to draw itself up proudly at Lady Zahradnik’s promotion of its capabilities. Rangobart exchanged glances with the sentry.

What would happen if a single Death Knight ran rampant over the countryside? Entire baronies would be turned into Zombies overnight. Air patrols would fly out in the morning only to discover a tide of Undead swarming over the countryside.

“Can these Death Knights lose control or go berserk?” Rangobart asked.

“Barring being turned by a suitably powerful divine caster, no,” Lady Zahradnik answered with a shake of her head. “They will always strive to perform their duties to the utmost of their ability. Like any person, they have things that they are good at and things that they aren’t, so it is generally better to find a place for them within the greater organisation of the Imperial Army rather than having them work alone as single, powerful troops. Just as heavy infantry excel with the support of the proper auxiliary forces, so too do Death Knights.”

“So how will it work between me and this Death Knight?” The Ranger asked.

“Do they issue Darkvision items to watchmen?”

“Men in the regular companies don’t get ‘em,” the man replied. “They’re usually limited to scouts in a high-ranking officer’s bodyguard.”

Lady Zahradnik turned to peer out towards the forest nearby. Rangobart couldn’t see any further than the flickering light of the torches around the perimeter.

“Undead have Darkvision,” Lady Zahradnik said, “so they should spot anything within range that isn’t employing concealment skills. The Undead leased to the Imperial Army do not have detection skills, so it’s up to scouts like yourself to identify and mark targets for them to act against.”

“Sounds familiar enough,” the Ranger said. “Guess we’ll see how it works out.”

“Could you also relay what I’ve told you to the next shift?”

“Er…probably not everything exactly as you said, m’lady, but I got the important bits.”

“That will do,” the young noblewoman smiled warmly as the Death Knight took its place. “Thank you for giving them a chance to serve.”