One of the [Necromancers] was powerful. Seraphel saw him on the hill, aiming a wand. He pointed—and Ser Dalimont raised his shield. Even so, the green orb threw him and everyone in a ten foot radius around him around like ragdolls.

Dalimont lay on the ground, unmoving, as the lead [Necromancer] conjured a spear of blackness, twin to the one that had killed the female [Knight] a moment ago. He threw it—

“Princess!”

The spear went through another [Knight] as the golden figure leapt across Seraphel’s vision. She fell, choking. Seraphel stared at the downed knight, wide-eyed. The spear had been meant for her.

“Princess, you must flee! Take the carriage—”

One of the Thronebearers shouted at her, fighting the undead as they closed around the coach. Seraphel looked around—then she jerked.

A skeleton had shot an arrow at her! The arrow flew towards Seraphel’s unguarded face—and slowed. It froze in the air as her tiara saved her life. Seraphel weakly batted the arrow away and it fell to the ground.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

She looked around. The Thronebearers closed ranks, carrying Dalimont and two of their fellows. They were screaming at her, trying to get the carriage moving with one horse. The [Necromancers] shouted orders.

“Kill them! Let none get away!”

“Find the [Lord]! Where is he?”

Seraphel leaned on the carriage. She saw the lead [Necromancer] aiming at her. The [Princess] had no weapon besides her rank. So she stood straighter, knocked Mariel’s hand off her arm, and shouted with all the authority she had in her.

“Excuse me! What are you doing?”

There was a pause. The [Necromancers] halted, aiming their wands and staves down at the Humans. The man in dark robes blinked. The [Princess] eyed the undead and waved at them.

“You! You lot! What are you doing? Are you going to slaughter all of us? We surrender!”

“Princess—no—you must flee—”

Ser Dalimont croaked. Seraphel ignored him. She pointed at the [Necromancer].

“An arrow nearly took my head off, you idiot! Kidnap me and have done with it! Come on, hurry up!

Stop slaughtering my escorts! You won’t get anything more from Calanfer for them! It’s me you want!”

She strode forwards and recoiled as one of the zombies struck at her. The [Necromancers] palpably wavered. The one in black robes had white hair. Rather full and silky; he must have spent time on the look. He narrowed his eyes at her and leveled his staff.

“We accept no surrender or trickery. You and the line of Afiele die here, milady. I regret that this is not personal.”

The white-haired [Necromancer] smiled. And the tip of his staff glowed again with that black light that hurt the eyes.

Seraphel shaded her eyes. She saw the undead moving towards her. But—before the fear came only fury. She shouted.

“Are you stupid, man? I’m not Noelictus’ child!”