Kevic led his twelve men down to the dungeons beneath Fell Keep. Even though his captain had ordered him down there at the request of his majesty’s Interrogator, Kevic wasn’t worried. If the Interrogator thought he or any of his men were actually guilty of some offense, they would have taken his armor and weapons and they’d be going down there one at a time. As it was, he marched down the long, dank stairway into the earth with the comfortable weight of his armor and shield, his battleaxe at his belt, and his men behind him. This was probably just some errand involving an unruly prisoner who needed a beating or something. The gods knew he’d dealt out enough of those over the course of his service. Some of those beatings had even been deserved.

  The staircase eventually ended at a landing before a guard chamber that had three doors, one to each wall except for the archway they just walked through. The room was lit by two lanterns that hung on the walls from sconces and contained only a table with four chairs where the four guards sat playing a game of cards. They were looking at the archway with interest when Kevic and his men filed in. One of the guards pointed at a door.

  “What’s this, then?” Kevic asked the pointing guard. “The cells are behind that door, and the interrogations are done behind that door.” He pointed at each of the other two doors in turn.

  “Damned if I know,” the guard answered. “The wizard said that when a group of soldiers came down, that we were to send them in there,” pointing at the odd door again.

  “Wizard?” Kevic asked. He held his right fist on his hip, close to his weapon.

  “Yeah, wizard,” the guard said. “Little runt. Looks like he couldn’t hurt a fly. You’ll know him when you see him. Black robes give it away.”

  Kevic frowned. He didn’t like this situation one bit. He’d be more worried if he’d stolen tax revenue from the king, but he hadn’t done that in a long time. In fact, there wasn’t much that he could’ve done that would get him in trouble. Only taking more than a tenth for himself or openly disobeying the king would be things that would get him arrested. Anything else he did was ignored and no one even cared that he did those things. He fingered his battleaxe as he thought briefly. There was something odd about the reason he and his men were down here, but orders were orders, and he may as well get this over with.

  Kevic turned and went through the indicated door, which opened with a squeal on heavily rusted hinges. The corridor beyond was as neglected as the heavy door was. There was a heavy layer of dust on either side of the corridor with a narrow path in the center that had seen recent use. The corners of the hallway were thick with spider webs, most of which were covered in dust. The webs swayed gently with the passing of the men. There was only one lantern in this hallway, about halfway in, and it gave off a meager light. Kevic could see a couple of doors near the end of the hallway, but he decided to go into the room at the end of the hall first because the door was open.

  The room beyond was very dark, but by the light of the lantern in the hallway, Kevic could see that it was about thirty feet to a side, and it had dozens of manacles hanging from its walls. There was a table in the corner of the room to the right where someone in black robes sat reading in the dark, which he thought was strange. On the table was a black goblet of some kind, a couple more books, and some bowls, jars, and alchemical tools that served some arcane purpose. The figure didn’t look up as Kevic and his men came to a stop in the center of the deeply shadowed room. The only light came from the hallway outside, and suddenly Kevic had a very bad feeling. Nearly a full minute passed as Kevic stood there waiting to be addressed and wondering what was really going on.

  “Everyone, take a place close to the walls,” the dark robed man said.

  That’s where the manacles were. “To what purpose?” Kevic asked.

  “Shall I tell the king that you didn’t follow my orders?” the wizard asked.

  He still hadn’t looked up from the book he was reading. There wasn’t enough light in the room to read by, and that worried Kevic greatly. If this man could see in the dark, then the darkness could be his ally. If that were true, then Kevic knew this man was no one to be trifled with. Still, he couldn’t force himself to follow this wizard’s orders blindly. Kevic didn’t move, and taking their cue from Kevic, neither did his men. They shifted their weight uncomfortably, making their armor clank a little bit.

  “So, it’s the hard way, then,” the wizard said softly to himself.

  The dark robed wizard got up from the table and looked up at the soldiers. His eyes had a slight green light coming from inside his pupils, and the men took a step back in sudden fear. The wizard gestured to the door, and it slammed shut, plunging the room into total darkness. The men shouted in confusion briefly, then a darkly green light coalesced in front of the wizard and streaked into the middle of the soldiers where it exploded into a cloud of green gas that enveloped the men completely. The soldiers were all affected by the spell and fell to the floor, twitching uncontrollably. They were completely helpless and could only utter grunts and little cries of fear as they convulsed on the cold, stone floor. One by one, they could sense their fellows being moved to the walls and heard the rattling of chains as they were secured to the walls by their wrists.

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  “W… W… What?” was all Kevic could get out.

  “What’s happening? What am I doing?” the wizard asked mildly from the darkness. Kevic could see the two pinpoints of green light from the wizard’s eyes as the wizard turned to regard him briefly, and he shook with terror, now knowing his fate was sealed. “I’m making you better. For most of your life, you’ve served the king, but for the rest of your existence, you’ll serve me. I’m remaking you into a suitable servant. Now be silent. I need to concentrate.”

  Raynold had made a discovery a few short months ago. He’d thought he’d mastered the Codex of Death and its contents for a short time, but one night, he’d realized that if he read the Codex in the darkness with the help of his new, superior vision, the pages of the tome had even more knowledge. This part could only be read by the magical sight that was granted his mastery over its lesser secrets. Raynold understood that this was done on purpose to keep lesser wizards from toying with power they didn’t comprehend. Now that those secrets were revealed to him, Raynold could learn much, much more. He longed to transcend death himself but considered it foolish in the extreme to experiment on himself. No, when he finally reached the apex of his craft, only then would he make himself immortal. There was much to be learned before then, however.

  Raynold retrieved the obsidian goblet from the table and poured the contents of his mixing bowl into it. The black liquid hissed and sputtered a little bit as it made contact with the obsidian, just as the Codex said it should. Raynold, deep in concentration, chanted in the whispery language of death, casting a fell enchantment on the liquid held before him. Finishing his enchantment in a climax, a green flame sprang up from the goblet, burning as if the liquid inside was oil. He retrieved a funnel from the table before him, then stepped over to where Kevic weakly struggled in wide-eyed horror against the doom before him. Raynold noted how much stronger Kevic’s will was than that of his comrades and smiled grimly.

  “You will make a fine captain. Drink this,” Raynold said.

  Kevic found that he couldn’t disobey. Raynold forced the funnel into his mouth all the way to the back of his throat, then poured the contents of the goblet in as he pinched Kevic’s nose shut. Kevic coughed and tried to get the burning liquid out of his mouth but could do nothing to help himself. The funnel was too deep, and its fiery contents made their inevitable way to his stomach, settling there like a ball of flaming pitch. The pain was excruciating, and Kevic groaned, spasmed and gagged involuntarily, but couldn’t rid himself of this violation.

  In Fellton’s society, married couples wore short necklaces that had an amulet of some significance hanging from them, usually the symbol of Zepha, the goddess of fertility and beauty. A marriage necklace was a coveted thing to have in a place where almost no one had regard for the lives of those around them. It was a symbol that told the onlooker that this person had the faithful support of a spouse, and that was a rare thing in a society like Fellton’s. The men of Kevic’s troop were all in possession of a marriage necklace, and the fact that they valued these trinkets highly made them important for the next part of Raynold’s process.

  Raynold reached to Kevic’s neckline and took hold of the marriage necklace he found there, drawing it out without removing it from the soldier’s neck. Holding the symbol of Zepha up, Raynold began to chant. Kevic began to convulse because of the burning poison in his gut. A malignant, green energy formed around Raynold, which he channeled into Kevic’s weakly thrashing form. Kevic stopped thrashing, and breathed a last, pitiable sigh as he died. The energy Raynold channeled into Kevic became stronger, however, and seemed to grab hold of Kevic, whose spirit was separating from its mortal shell. The power Raynold commanded captured the spirit forced it into the amulet. The magic grew in strength until Raynold finished his enchantment with a flourish. The last of the green fire flowed from Raynold’s hand and into the amulet. Raynold tucked the amulet back under Kevic’s cuirass and waited.

  A green fire appeared in Kevic’s eye sockets, burning his mortal eyes away. Kevic didn’t seem to notice. He lifted his head and got his legs under him, then looked to his new master. In the darkness, Kevic’s eyes locked onto Raynold. Seeing this, the other soldiers jerked about in tiny little fits, their eyes round with fear, but they were completely helpless. They knew their fate was sealed. Kevic stood tall, taking his weight off the chains. He understood his place instantly.

  “Master,” Kevic said hoarsely from a ruined throat.

  Raynold smiled with satisfaction as the helpless soldiers whimpered. With a gesture and an arcane word, he caused the manacles that held Kevic to fall away. Raynold’s mind was swirling with thoughts about his craft. It would be very interesting to find out what the physical limitations of his newest creations would be. He knew they would have the ability to channel the power of death that simple zombies and skeletons could never have, and he left them some of their free will. Raynold had made certain that they could never consciously betray him or disobey a command he gave, but there was still much he didn’t know. Though he was elated by the success of his new captain’s undeath, he had much to do before he felt ready to do the king’s bidding. The murders of his own parents didn’t stop him from achieving his destiny, so no shout, scream, or plea for mercy from these wretches would sway him from his course. He could have told them so, but to Raynold they were beneath him. Insignificant.

  They tried anyway, to no avail.

  Raynold got to work.