Wren the Fox Witch (Europa #3: A Dark Fantasy) by Joseph Robert Lewis

glared in silence.
    “Are you also a warrior, sir?” Lady Nerissa asked. “You had a seireiken when you were captured. We know of these terrifying swords. If you have one, you too must be a great warrior.” She stood up, her face pale and stern. “Sir, I ask you, on behalf of my people and my city, to use whatever power you have to help us end this war and save my people. I will grant you any reward you ask if you will do us this service.”
    Tycho winced.
    Don’t ask that yet, it’s still far too early. This is why they shouldn’t be here. They don’t know the routine. They’re giving him leverage.
    Tycho held up a hand and drew Omar’s attention. “If I may. Let’s just step back from that question for a moment. Mister Bakhoum, do you have any knowledge of Koschei’s whereabouts?”
    Omar focused on the dwarf. “You’re not interested in the big picture, are you?”
    “Actually, I am,” Tycho said. “Koschei?”
    “No.”
    “And the Damascena?”
    “ Nadira . And no.”
    Tycho rifled through his papers. “It says here that the captain of your ship, a Mister Ortiz, confirmed that you boarded in Varna, bound for Alexandria by way of several other ports. And none of our contacts inside Stamballa have ever reported seeing a man fitting your description in the company of Prince Radu. Therefore, I’m inclined to believe that you are what you claim to be. A traveler with no part in this war.”
    Omar snorted. “Well, thank you very much, my little friend.”
    “On the other hand, the fact that you claim to be immortal and that you carry a seireiken gives us two very serious reasons for concern,” Tycho said. “I’ve been to Alexandria. I am familiar with the men who carry these swords. The Sons of Osiris. Are you one of them?”
    “Off and on. They have certain valuable resources, and they don’t ask questions, as long as I help them with the occasional project.”
    “Such as?”
    Omar sighed. “I’m sorry, but this is getting to be a bit tiresome, friend. I’m not going to tell you my life story. It’s far less interesting than you might think, and hardly any of your business.”
    “The safety of Constantia is my business, Mister Bakhoum,” Tycho said. “I’m sure you can appreciate that.”
    “Constantia has stood here for fifteen hundred years,” Omar said. “It has survived countless wars and sieges, famines and plagues, and more earthquakes than I care to remember. It doesn’t need you to save it.”
    “Be that as it may—”
    A fist pounded on the door and everyone turned to look just as a man on the other side called out, “Major Xenakis! Major! I saw them! I saw them at Saray!”
    Saray!
    Tycho moved his shaking hands to his lap and looked at the pale Italian. Salvator nodded. Tycho stood up. “Would you all excuse me for a moment, please?” And he walked calmly to the door.
    On the other side he found a young Vlachian archer, his face flecked with soot and blood, gasping for breath. “Major, I saw them. Hundreds of them. We fought them, but there were just too many. We couldn’t stop them. We lost half our men in the first few minutes, and most of the others broke ranks and ran into the wilderness. And now they’re coming toward the city. They’re coming here.”
    Tycho grabbed the man’s dirty jacket and pulled him forward and down to look him in the eyes. “ What are they? Tell me exactly what you saw.”
    “The dead.” The soldier trembled and covered his eyes. “The dead. Dead bodies. Corpses. Rotten and broken, black and blue and white, covered in dirt and ice. Sir, they were dead bodies, and they tore our men and horses into pieces. They were dead. They were already dead.” The man collapsed to the floor, shaking.
    Tycho stepped back and let the other men tend to the archer. Salvator stared at the soldiers with a look of revulsion and confusion. Tycho swallowed and tugged his jacket down.
    It’s true then. The dead have risen. And they’re coming here.