Chapter 4: The Skeleton's camp

The next day came and went hastily, and it was only in the last few minutes of precious sunlight, that Tehnerick got the chance to speak to Cesraungl properly. They had been on guard, with a few other men; with the new threat of skeletons, the amount of people on shift had increased. He had been checking the chains’ bonds, making sure they would be safe for the night. When the last bond had been checked, he leaned back against the gate, and Cesraungl came up to him. Angrily, he said: ‘Guess what.’

Tehnerick shrugged.

‘Faenagal joined the village guard today.’

‘Oh.’

‘He hasn’t been a valuable member; he’s been griping about how he does all the work, and we relax.’

‘Really?’

‘I know. Anyway, he’s been recounting his stories to the guards who will listen, but bluntly now, not like a few days ago. The guards sent him away some time ago, thankfully.’

Strangely, the skeletons were crowding round the gate, in a large group. Tehnerick was going to say something else, but he felt a cold, strong hand on his shoulder. Then, he was pulled under the gate.

A skeleton stood above him, smiling malevolently with its cracked, rotten teeth. It peered down at him and he kicked out at it. As the foot caught it’s knee, it stumbled and rasped angrily, drawing its sword. It grabbed his arm and pulled him up, before pushing him forwards, between the first lines of tents. He was pushed for a while, until they both came to a larger tent than the others, that stood, slightly back from the other tents. The flap was opened, and he was pushed inside. A dark, elaborate throne stood on the muddy ground, in which, an armored skeleton sat, holding a long staff. Tehnerick was pushed to his knees in front of this skeleton, and he quickly stood up. The skeleton behind him bowed, and left the tent.

‘Well, well,’ rasped the skeleton, ‘What have we here?’

Tehnerick drew his sword.

‘Now,’ said the skeleton, ‘That is no way to treat someone.’

It raised its staff and said a few inaudible words. The words became louder, and Tehnerick could distinguish a few syllables in the chant, most of them being ‘Goilken’; words of the skeletons’ language.

Suddenly, Tehnerick’s sword broke to fragments in his hand, and he dropped the pieces. Wind shook the tent.

‘Guards,’ called the skeleton, ‘take this human to the cells, and bind him.’

As the guards pulled Tehnerick away, the skeleton said: ‘My name is Antioeul.’