Spiders had become tedious for the young mage. Bees were one thing. They worked together in nature. Spiders would eat each other the moment he turned his back. Since this morning he had grown thousands of apple spiders. A few hundred would follow his instructions. He had eaten the life force of countless spiders and he felt no closer to breading spiders with workable temperaments.
Albie had seen past the curtain once or twice and had seen it was noon. The life of the men and horses he had eaten last felt gone. Hunger and pain where growing. Cats chest wounds were gently throbbing. The cold sensation of bleeding out would be back by night. It was time to take a break. Work on something else.
The monster bees brought in a cadaver. He bid them leave it on the counter as he pulled a mason hammer out of his cloak. The lurker was doing good work. It had a lot of free will. Sometimes it felt like the undead was waiting for a moment to break his neck.
The pail lurker was a terrifying killer. Albie wanted more. The pail mage began smashing the corpses body with the hammer. Cloth bone and rotting muscle smashed together. The mage felt a stare from the door. He looked over his shoulder to see the door slightly ajar. A set of black claws partially held the door. Through the crack in the door a dead eye stared at him from an exposed socket.
"You want something," Albie asked the pail lurker.
The undead hand slipped back through the door. The unclosing eye disappeared as the door shut.
"Why are you so weird!?" shouted Albie at the closed door.
The mage stared at the door for a moment. The young mage shrugged and resumed pulping the body.
"Master," whispered Bags in his mind. "I the men are all around the table again.
Albie didn't stop the hammer but looked though Bags eye. Below the rat where the five officers. Lord brand and his retinue were sitting at the table.
"So," said the oldest man at the table. "We can't deny that we are fighting the dead."
"Yes," said the bearded man in the chest plate. "My brothers engaged a group of them last night. They managed to nock one off his feat after being decapitated. The headless man continued to fight until Sir Walt punched it to mush. A fight against monsters. Truly Our order will forge legends here."
"What kind of magic makes the dead walk," asked the man in the apron.
"The forbidden kind," responded the old man. "I've seen plenty of war magic, but I've never heard of this. Not in this age anyway. Lord Brand you are the mage what is your opinion."
"I don't know I haven't seen them yet," said the man who looked like he was made of bronze. "The fact they move at night would imply moon magic."
"If we can't explain it the boys will start talking about ghosts," said the old man. "Fighting dead men is bad business my lord. It might be best to retreat from the city. We are surrounded by dead bodies if they all start walking, we'll be surrounded."
"Cowardice!" shouted the young cavalryman. "We just took the city we can't run now."
"Agreed!" Shouted the knight. "A worthy foe has appeared. It would be an affront to the sun let these abominations have the city."
Albie felt his anger rise. His work with the hammer seeming to get a little easier when he imagined it was the knight on the table.
"Still," said the man in the Apron. "from what we have encountered muskets don't bother these walking dead men much. Your cavalry is also at a disadvantage on the streets Sir Dain. Perhaps we set up some defenses at key places inside the walls and move the rest of the men outside."
"The city is mine," declared Lord Brand. I am lord of Yourz and I will not be chased out. Are we sure we killed all the moon mages? We didn't miss any."
"All the ones known by the traitor governor are dead," Said the old solder. "Maybe some unknown brat or a mage from the surrounding counties?"
"It must be some unknown brat," declared the Cavalry commander. "My men scoured the surrounding villages. We encountered no mages and left no survivors."
"How are you so sure you didn't miss one?" asked the old man.
"Because my men couldn't possibly have failed to kill some peasant," declared the arrogant young man. "We must be looking for some orphaned brat still probably hiding in an orphanage somewhere."
"Silence," declared Lord Brand. "We need more information and better weapons. Sergeant of arms start creating bounties. This dead priest that fled the battle last night and the pail fellow in the jeweled cloak. Start there. Douglass how is the powder magazine coming along?"
"We should be making gunpowder by the end of the day," Declared the man in the apron. "I have enough workers to fix and run one factory. If you can supply some more men, I could get two running. What do you want us to make?"
"Blunder busses and grenades," declared the old solder.
"None sense," shouted the arrogant noble. "Longswords. Noble weapons for noble men. Right Sir Toller?"
"Warhammers would be better," said the knight.
"For know fix the factory," declared Lord Brand. "Sargent of arms see if you can find some more workers for a second factory and at least one of your wishes will be granted."
"As you wish your lordship," answered the old solder. I don't think I'll find a shortage of volunteers. I'll re organize my grenadiers for now. Spread them out among the young ones."
"Do as you see fit sergeant," ordered the sun mage. "Get to work all of you. "We'll kill these dead men if I have to burn this city to ash."
"Yes," Said all the men in unison before leaving the table.
Albie stopped looking through Bags eye. Those men would not die without a fight.
Albie began to peal the skin from the mutilated bodies skull.
That little shit head did miss one. And I will have to come up with something special for him.