"Chosen?"
"One of those chosen to receive the knowledge… I taught your kind to give life to the dead. You are a necromancer."
"I… I am," Renrik said.
"Are you in possession of essence, Necromancer Renrik?"
Renrik's eyes narrowed. "I am… A small amount."
Still wandering around the room, Sentar found a basin and ewer. He washed his face and slicked back his hair. "Bring it to me," he said.
"Stranger, I do not know who you are, but…"
"Has it been so long? Are your memories so quick to fade?"
Sentar turned and levelled the full force of his gaze on the necromancer. He could see Renrik noticing the blood-red hair with black streaks at the temples, the blue eyes, like ice. "The essence," Sentar said. "Give it to me."
Renrik disappeared into a second room. Sentar heard the necromancer mutter and then a click as a locked cupboard opened. Something clinked, and Renrik came back into the room, holding a tiny vial. Sentar opened his hand, and in that moment Renrik stumbled. Sentar knew it was pretence when he felt a prick on the skin of his right hand.
Sentar smiled without humour. Along with the vial, Renrik held a scrill. A blue mark appeared on the back of Sentar's hand where the scrill had touched essence to his skin.
Such a touch would kill any man. He would fall to the floor and scream as he died the most agonising death imaginable.
Sentar merely felt a tingling sensation in the region of the blue mark.
Renrik stared at the mark, his eyes wide with shock. He slowly looked up to meet Sentar's cold eyes.
Sentar watched and waited, as the thoughts crossed Renrik's face. Sentar's own eyes flickered to a stylised portrait on the wall. The man in the portrait had hair the colour of blood, with streaks of black at the temples.
The necromancer fell to his knees.
"Master!" Renrik cried.
Sentar crouched and put his fingers under the necromancer's chin, tilting the man's head and looking into his eyes. The devotion was genuine.
"Let that be the last time you distrust me, Necromancer Renrik," Sentar said. "I am Sentar Scythran, the Lord of the Night, and I have returned."
"Forgive me, Master."
"As one of the chosen, you may serve me, and you may live," said Sentar. "Those of your order will be the only kind to survive when my brothers return. Serve me well, and you may have a special place in the new Merralya, and be raised above, to rule the others of your kind."
Renrik kept his head down but Sentar saw him take a tremulous breath. "Master, I will serve," the necromancer finally said.
"Stand," Sentar said. "I need to ask you some questions."
Renrik stood, but kept his eyes lowered. "Ask," he said.
"Your people, the Akari, will they serve me?"
Renrik was silent for a while before speaking. "I… I am afraid there are many who will not. The Dain, Barden Mensk, has poisoned our people against you, saying you ruled as a wolf rules the sheep. There are some, in my order, who still believe, but they don't dare speak out against the Dain."
Sentar was pensive for a moment. "Even my own people," he muttered. "Perhaps a new people…"
Renrik kept his head bowed while the Lord of the Night made his plans.
"How much essence can you gather?" Sentar asked.
"I cannot get to the stockpiles without the Dain's permission."
Sentar's mind worked. With essence he could destroy the Dain and many of the Dain's followers. But how many would he face? And what purpose would it serve? The amount of essence he needed…
Sentar spoke. "I need to build an army, and to conquer this Tingaran Empire so that the blood of the dead will enable my brothers to return to a defeated world. I thought your people might be the followers I need, but it seems I was wrong."
Sentar made a decision.
"I know where there are those who will be easy to dominate. We need weak humans, multitudes of them, ready to subdue. Necromancer Renrik, can you take me to a ship, an ocean-going vessel?"
"We have only a few, but yes. The Icebreaker is big enough…"
"I need you to gather those of your order who will follow," Sentar interrupted, "and get together as much essence as you can, enough to build the vats anew."
Sentar took the vial of essence and scrill from Renrik's hands. He began to draw on his skin, the movements deft and precise. As the Akari necromancer looked on in wonder, Sentar spoke an activation sequence, and moments later the symbols lit up; Sentar felt his skin tingle with suppressed power.
"Then show me to this ship," the Lord of the Night said. "Time is our enemy."
Sentar may not have found the beginnings of an army, but he now had allies, and he had essence.
The rest would be easy.
1