It was three in the morning. Arnulf was camped at a royal stables two hours from County Schwanenberg. His troops had enjoyed a feast of wild boar and wine, while he and the Necromancer tormented the count and countess. The soldiers were now passed out in piles, but Arnulf and his new lord high chancellor continued to amuse themselves outside the carriage-prison.
“Mama, Papa, where are you?” Arnulf squeaked with a high-pitched wail. “Why have you left me to die?”
The count and countess sobbed into each other’s arms.
The Necromancer laughed. His crows joined in with a chorus of caws from their perch on the carriage roof.
Arnulf leered through the window bars. “Tell me, Lord High Chancellor, do you suppose the girl is still living? Is she sucking her final breaths?”
The Necromancer cocked an ear stump as if transporting himself inside the tomb. “Why, yes, Excellency, she lives,” he rasped. “But I fear the poor thing’s fingers are bloodied from clawing at the coffin lid.”
“Kill us now,” the countess wept. “Spare us this torture.”
“And spoil the entertainment?” Arnulf tutted.
A cry broke the night air: “Haunted! The castle’s haunted!” Arnulf’s soldiers roused as their six terrified comrades galloped into the encampment and collapsed on the ground. “The Little Countess,” gasped one. “She’s come back from the grave.”
“What?”
“We saw her in the castle. Gliding down the staircase. Glistening in the moonlight.”
“It’s true,” said another. “All of us—we saw her ghost!”
“That was no ghost,” Arnulf shouted. “That was the Little Countess in the flesh.”
“Your Highness, we were at her funeral. We saw her dead and buried.”
“She wasn’t dead, you idiot. She was buried alive!”
Cries of rapture erupted from Angela’s parents. “Our child outfoxed you,” the count taunted.
Arnulf strode to the carriage and gripped the bars so hard they bent. “Your joy shall be as short-lived as your daughter’s life,” he hissed, and swung back to his troops. “Because of you, I’ve been tricked by a child and mocked by my own captives! Find her or die.”
“Wh-where would you have us search?” stammered the bravest.
The Necromancer swept his staff through the air: “Excellency, there’s a local grave robber who lives with his apprentice on the barrens. It’s likely they broke into the crypt, allowing the girl’s escape.”
“Come with us,” Arnulf ordered his bodyguards. “We’ll find this grave robber and make him talk. As for the rest of you, tie the traitors in sacks, toss them on a wagon, and bounce them to the booby hatch.”