"An unfortunate circumstance, though expected when a nation loses it's head." The patriarch had promptly arrived at the request of his goddess with a minimal guard of six who waited in the entrance hall and garden. The safety of Tarnox was something the Pitarav haven't internalized yet, though the spiders and other wild animals could be dangerous in certain circumstances.

  "Everyone who thinks they can get power will try to get as much as they can." The patriarch continued, "The best thing you could have is a figure that is able to keep all the lesser nobles in line and carry out justice." He gave a pointed look to Taramo.

  "I don't know the first thing about leadership." Taramo insisted, and the patriarch chuckled at that, along with a few others.

  "You say that, but you've become the leader of Tarnox quite effectively. Yes-" The patriarch cut off a retort "Even if I might get official leadership one word from you and my power will dwindle quickly. Who made farming possible? Who defeated the enemies that threatened my people? Barely anyone could do the magical feats you are capable of and you were able to get two people's who were great enemies to work together, though I might call mistress Nikalia the exception among her people."

  "No. just the leaders." she replied around a half-dozen fried eggs and some bread. She had awoken a bit before the patriarch arrived but wasn't all there just yet.

  "All the same." The patriarch monologued, "You would be a good fit as a leader over Dragon's Rest and even better if the mayors and lordlings thought you didn't want to bother with leadership."

  "Why?" Martin had returned inside after the patriarch while Simon was practicing his sword strokes, playing, outside.

  "They might think they could get influence to do the job instead. If they got more authority they could use that against their rivals. And they would need to at least appear loyal to get those positions. Or get rid of the leadership and appoint your own. Either way works."

  His advice was brutal, and somewhat effective.

  "I won't agree to anything yet, but what should we do to get trade back through here?" Taramo asked the Patriarch, the person with knowledge of the Empire he was a citizen of.

  Ariwyn replied instead "Get the Empress to suggest it. The other trade routes will dry if people think it would please her. Keeping the roads safe and making sure the port will be able to handle them is the thing we can do now. Is there anything else you might suggest Patriarch?" A little bit of a bite was in her words. Taramo had heard of her plans to replace the patriarch and had shut them down, though she still didn't like the other schemer.

  The patriarch was quiet for a moment. "Preparing land for the residents of the trade route to move to would also help. Giving them a place to live where they could do similar work would help them and get a workforce that knows the needed skills. You will also need to clear out the fort." A small look of disgust crossed his face, "There's a blood wisp in there and any necromancer who sets foot in there will have a great bounty."

  "That boy is some trouble. I'll have to be a bit more forceful" Taramo mumbled to himself. Then to everyone else. "Best thing we can do now is to help the port secure itself. When should we leave?"

  "Six days." Ariwyn insisted. "I will get some cuttings to start and will plant some along the road. I will not lose contact with the city while there's so much disorder."

  "How far can you stay connected to your network?" Merlin asked.

  "I've kept myself to city limits, but with what I've learned from Adras' priest I should be able to keep together until Newport."

  Ah. Her secret soldier. Taramo didn't speak of it but Ariwyn had taken one of the Silver Chain and made him joined to her network like others. He'd needed to get some plant grafted into himself to fit nicely and became a lot more passive since he was plantish and didn't have active control over the mana flowing through him. He'd talked with the man while he was more lucid and a bit of retirement until he'd gotten another body was not ideal, but much better than being mulched, the threat that had been placed on him if he hadn't agreed.

  Taramo wasn't exactly happy with the outcome, though he didn't need to ensure Ariwyn kept to her side since the man's plantish body was in the greenhouse and the replacement was being grown alongside her avatar. Wisps, even those that had once been human, didn't think in the same manner that most humans had. Taramo was probably similar, since he was put in another body.

  Discussion continued around him, Merlin and Austalir comparing notes. They would probably end up starting an academy here if they got what they wanted and Taramo would let them, having a secure library would be useful. Niki went off to have a bath and the Patriarch retired to write a letter to his Empress. Apparently Gerolf was the Empress' son, which was something new.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Taramo stood and decided to deal with the problem before him. He would have to clean out the fort.

  ---

  There were a large number of dead crows on the ground outside the walls of the fort, Taramo forgot the name for it. He'd gone over the wall and walked towards the gate. The drawbridges were lowered, which was normal for when the Silver Chain was in charge. The chances someone who was strong enough to need it closed to get close enough to surprise them was virtually zero, and the fortifications of the fort rose higher than the city's they were connected to. You kept the fort to keep the city, since food wouldn't be able to be produced in the amounts for a city's population with the nonexistent farmland. That was changing, and it was a town at most now.

  When he walked through the gates the stench increased in strength. He was glad to be able to dim his smell. Despite the stench it was clean, all the bodies taken into the temple of Adras, and then they left.

  The blood wisp was able to keep some of the bodies in a rudimentary state of function, pulling the meat that wasn't as rotten into a conglomeration. They stumbled and shuffled out. Each one could bleed on him and risk his life. Another month and they would all be rotted away and he could talk with the wisp.

  But time wasn't as free as he thought before.

  Taramo stole the teleportation disruption beam from Austalir. He'd probably taken it from someone else but Taramo added to it. It didn't roar as it tore the air particles apart and was barely a shimmer in the air itself. The crack of it meeting the ruined flesh showed the teeth of it.

  The flesh tried to knit itself together and all the horde rushed him, nearly totally incinerating themselves when they met with his shield. Fragments of armor, wood, and bone were thrown past in an attempt to get through to him. Most of them were harmless but about one in ten had a secret drop of blood. Without the direction of the priest there was a lot to be desired of this.

  One of the helmet fragments was picked from the assorted trash and the drop of blood was pulled into the air. Taramo didn't let it have any leverage to leap.

  (Betrayer. Father killer) The wisp wailed and roared, pulling itself away from him and rocking back in an attempt to split the drop, getting a piece to touch Taramo. It hit a secondary shield and boiled away to nothing.

  "Yes, I did kill your maker." He let the drop rage and tire itself out. "He was using you and discarded you after, did he not."

  (You promised he would like it.)

  "I did not. I told you how to achieve your task better. Your maker expected you to lose." The bit of blood whimpered and shrunk in on itself.

  (Then kill me. I'm nothing good and can't do anything.)

  "I will not do that. You did not chose your path and you can know better. I will teach you."

  (Then I will kill you. My last master died because I couldn't-)

  "No. I have a better idea" Taramo drew a paring knife and made a nick on his forearm. The blood wept to the surface and was pulled into a floating ball.

  "I will make a contract. You will obey and I will help you become something that can live well."

  "(Tenets.

  One- You will obey me, Taramo, your master.

  Two- You will not kill or maim without necessity. You will be told when it is necessary.

  Three- You will not be dishonest with me, Taramo, your master or Ariwyn, your mother.)"

  he drew out a vial of sap that unstoppered itself and incorporated itself into the blood. The orb flowed and reformed near the drop of blood.

  "The choice is yours, but if you disagree I will have to destroy you. Little boys should be safe to live in cities."

  There was a very small time of thinking before the drop leapt into the orb, accepting it. With the strength that was given through the vitality it returned to the rest and unity came to the one mind that was left and fragments of others.

  "Now to get you a body." Taramo could have taken one of Niki's golems, but she had been working on her assembly line and wasn't making as many golems at the moment. There was a much more convenient source of body about that could be used.

  Necromancy was a dark art, but use of bodies was quite effective for making a body. The meat that was left was collected and liquified and what bones weren't completely burnt or broken were pulled into the morass. Pieces were shaved off and pulled together, the essence from Taramo and Ariwyn making the process much easier for Taramo to do.

  Necromancy on the self was the 'easiest' form although you would only have one chance to raise yourself into lichdom so it wasn't undertaken lightly. Not by those who survived long enough to actually become liches anyway. But a bit of blood was more than enough for this use.

  The body of a small child was pushed from the puddle of body. Although there was no child skeleton in there the memory of the boy was effective enough to make the proportions and human skulls didn't grow that much during puberty. The skin was mostly smooth and eyes weren't there yet. The wisp was incorporated into the brain and quickly took control of the rest of the body. The tenets would hold so Taramo approached the boy.

  "Do you want to walk or do you want me to carry you back?"

  The body wheezed. He forgot the voice box. Instead of fixing the body up again he prodded the mind with the intention. The body, about an eight year old in size, failed to stand up and turned to him. The blank sockets looked at him as open hands flapped open and closed in a request for uppies.

  Taramo carried the boy back, talking about the people that lived around and that he would work with. Even after having some time to accustom himself to the body the boy refused to start walking for the walk. He didn't need to strengthen his body for the walk back. That's his story and he was sticking to it.

  The rest of the biomass that was the silver chain formed into a more traditional necromancer's retinue and set about cleaning up. They would stick to the temple until he got a better place. He was in no place to waste resources.