Dirge for a Necromancer (20 page)

“That’s a good story,” said Brecan. “I liked the part where there was a lion.”

Diahsis frowned. “You weren’t really listening, were you?” he asked flatly.

The unicorn flattened his ears. “I got distracted,” he admitted shyly. “You mentioned something about a lion’s tail, then I got distracted thinking about lions and their pretty manes. I’ve got a mane too, but it’s not as pretty as a lion’s.”

The main course was served—roasted dragon with onions and stewed cabbage. Raettonus stared at the great, greasy hunk of meat on his plate, the steam gently rising from it. “This looks disgusting,” he said.

“It tastes great though,” said Brecan.

“Of course you think so,” said Raettonus. “You haven’t got enough brain to tell good from bad.”

“Dragon really is quite good, Magician,” said Deggho. Diahsis had placed the goblin’s head on his own shoulder, cheek to cheek with him—a fact that Deggho dek’Kariss didn’t look too thrilled with, but his body sat politely with his arms folded in his lap.

“It’s stringy and doesn’t look very appetizing,” said Daeblau, chewing a mouthful. “But it’s far better than it looks.”

At the head of the table, General Diahsis frowned. “Why’s everyone insulting the dragon?” he asked. “It’s good dragon.” He took a bite of it. “The grease adds flavor.”

Raettonus pushed his plate away. “I’ve got to say, I no longer feel hungry.”

“Can I have yours?” asked Brecan eagerly, licking at his greasy lips with his long tongue.

“Knock yourself out,” said Raettonus. The unicorn dived for his plate, putting his cloven forehooves up on the table to get at it.

“We’re going to hunt faeries tomorrow,” said Diahsis. “Maybe you’ll like faerie better.”

“I don’t intend to eat any faeries,” said Raettonus, leaning back in his seat lazily. “They’re almost human. It’d be too strange.”

“Faeries? Hardly, Magician,” said Deggho. “They’re vicious monsters. Walking on two feet doesn’t give them any kind of humanity.”

Daeblau yawned and rolled his neck. “I’m feeling rather tired,” he said. “I think I’m going to retire to my chambers, if it’s all right with you, General.”

Diahsis looked him over. “Yes, certainly,” he said. “But I hope you know you’re going to miss the stories and riddles. I’ve got a hundred more. Three hundred more, maybe.”

The Captain of the Garrison smiled politely. “It’ll be a shame,” he said. He kissed Dohrleht on top of the head and started away. The younger centaur made to follow him, but he stopped the boy. “No, it’s all right. Stay here at the feast. After it’s over, if you’d like, you can come to my cell. I’d…like to get a nap.”

Dohrleht nodded obediently. “All right,” he said, turning back to the table. “After.”

With another insincere smile, Daeblau started away once again. Diahsis watched him go and then turned to Dohrleht. “So, do you think he actually loves you?” asked the general in a nonchalant tone, as if he’d asked if Dohrleht thought it might rain.

Dohrleht’s eyes widened. “Of course,” he said. “Why would you say that?”

Diahsis shrugged. “I was just thinking, he had you murder your father so he’d be in charge when I broke the walls and he could surrender to me,” he said. “I’m thinking Daeby’s rather treacherous, wouldn’t you say? I was just wondering if you really believed anything he said to you.”

The young centaur turned his face away. “I think I see a friend at the other end of the table,” he said unevenly. “Excuse me, General.”

“As you will,” said Diahsis, waving him off. He looked to Raettonus. “A nice boy. He’s one of your students, yes?”

“That’s right,” said Raettonus.

“It’s too bad about his leg,” said Diahsis. “You know, in Tahlehsohr a soldier with a crippled leg gets thrown out of the army. They usually get disowned too. Guess it’s a cultural difference, eh?”

“Seems like there’s a lot of those between Zylekkha and Tahlehsohr,” Raettonus noted.

“Like decapitating innocent hostages,” mumbled Deggho.

“Oh, I said I was sorry. Would you forgive me, already?” asked Diahsis. “What’s it going to take for you to drop that already? I didn’t know you’d come back to life.”

“That makes it worse, not better,” said Deggho, his three-pointed ears sagging.

* * *

After the feast was over, Raettonus skulked through the halls of the citadel, lost in thought. He passed soldiers singing drunkenly and holding each other for support as they staggered along the passageway. At length, Raettonus found himself emerging on the roof into the cool night air. Above the dark ocean, the moon was a pale orange sliver shining down on the water, surrounded by dim stars. Raettonus placed one hand on a cold steel spike rising up from the battlements and leaned against it, looking out into the inky night. A ship was sailing silently near the horizon, the lights in its cabin just visible. With a slight, involuntary sigh, Raettonus watched it until it was gone and remained staring at the place it had been for a long time.

He turned away from the ocean to look across the roof. A few turncoat Zylekkhans were patrolling stiffly, and he could see fires lit up on the watchtowers. At the other end of the roof, the shimmer of a ghost caught Raettonus’ eye, and he started toward it lazily. As he drew near, the ghost looked at him with colorless eyes. It was the ghost of an old centaur, dressed all in wolfskin and chain mail, a pike in one hand. The ghost nodded his head. “Evening,” he said cordially, in a dialect that had fallen out of use a few centuries before. For Raettonus it was strangely comforting to hear someone speaking in those old words; it was like coming home as a child when you’d been out all day.

“Who’re you, soldier?” asked Raettonus, sitting down on the parapet.

“Ruhrzyk, of Kinok Oron,” said the ghost. “That’s who I was, I suppose. I’ve been told that Kinok Oron is…is gone now.”

Raettonus nodded and looked out along the shore. “It went to war with Sae Noklu,” he said. “They were killed, to the last child.”

Ruhrzyk made a contemplative noise and turned his spectral face away. “Is it cold out?” he asked.

“A little.” Raettonus shifted around, setting his back to the long metal spike rising behind him.

“Guard duty on the roof used to be my least favorite post,” confided the ghost. “I hated how cold it was at night. They always posted me here at night. ‘Post me here during the day,’ I said to them. They wouldn’t listen. I don’t feel the cold anymore. I don’t really feel anything, since I fell…”

“You died,” said Raettonus.

Ruhrzyk smiled bitterly. “I know,” he said. “I didn’t understand at first. I was so confused, but…but it didn’t take all that long to realize what had happened. The last thing I could remember was someone calling to me down in the courtyard, and I leaned over the edge there to see what they wanted, but I leaned a little too far. Then… Well.”

“A friend of mine comes up here to talk to you,” Raettonus said.

“Little Maeleht,” said Ruhrzyk fondly. A smile flickered across his face and then was replaced with a look of concern. “He’s very sick, isn’t he?” Raettonus nodded. “Sometimes, when he comes to visit me, he starts coughing and can’t stop, or else he faints and he’s out for a long time. When he comes around or stops coughing, he tells me not to worry about it, and he said he wasn’t all that sick.”

“He’s not well,” said Raettonus. “I’d be surprised if he lives another five years.”

The ghostly soldier frowned and turned his face downwards. “That’s unfortunate,” he said. After a moment, he looked at Raettonus. “He told me about you. You’re a necromancer.”

“That’s right, I am.”

“Tell me,” said Ruhrzyk. “Could you…could you send me along? To the afterlife? I asked Maeleht if it could be done, but he only said he wasn’t sure and changed the subject.”

Raettonus raised his eyebrows. “It’s possible,” he said. “I’m not sure about your case, but it’s possible. Maeleht knows that.”

“Oh,” said the ghost. “Why would he lie to me?”

With a shrug, Raettonus answered, “He was probably scared.”

“Scared of me leaving?”

“Scared of how you’d leave him,” said Raettonus. He heard soft, hesitant hoof beats on the stone behind him and turned around.

Brecan hesitated a little ways away, watching him. Raettonus nodded to him slightly. “Who’re you talking to?” Brecan asked, coming closer. “Is it a ghost? Oooh, or maybe an invisible friend? I always wanted invisible friends.”

“It’s a ghost,” said Raettonus, turning away from Ruhrzyk. “Do you need something?”

The unicorn lowered his head and pressed his ears flat. Twitching his tail nervously, he said, “I was just thinking, you were so quiet at dinner. You weren’t even all mean like usual—not as mean, anyway. And, um… Is something wrong, Raet?”

“Not a thing,” said Raettonus.

“You sure?” said Brecan. He sat back on his haunches and looked at Raettonus with his pale blue eyes. “If you’re upset about something, you can tell me. You…you always keep everything all bottled up inside you, Raet, and it makes me worry for you. I mean, it can’t be good, keeping yourself all shut off like that. Part of being friends means sharing with each other, you know? So that you don’t have to keep everything inside. I…I don’t know why you do that, Raet, why you shut down like that. I don’t know—maybe I’m too stupid to understand you. But I try to. If something’s wrong, Raet, you can tell me, and I promise I’ll try to understand. If everything is fine—if you say so—I’ll leave you be, I guess. Just…I want you to know, if you’re upset about something, I’ll listen. I don’t think I could help you any, but…I’ll listen.”

Raettonus took a deep breath and studied the unicorn. Finally, he said, “Master Slade saw Rhodes. He knows that I did that to him and… We got in a fight.”

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you,” Brecan said.

“Yes, he probably will,” said Raettonus. “But even if he does, I’ll still know that he thinks I’m a monster.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t think that. How could he think that?”

Raettonus turned his face back toward the ocean and let out a heavy breath which turned to steam in the cold air. “He called me a demon,” Raettonus muttered. “The way he said it… He meant it. I know when he’s just saying things and when he’s telling the truth, and that was the truth.”

The unicorn edged a little closer. “I’m sorry, Raet,” Brecan said. “But—but it’s not like this is the first time you’ve been called that. You never let it get to you before…”

Pursing his lips, Raettonus glanced sideways at Brecan. “It’s different when it’s someone you’ve spent your whole life trying to save who says it.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it…”

“He did mean it.”

“I’m sure he’s going to forgive you, and he’s not going to be mad anymore…”

“What difference will it make? The damage is already done.”

“He didn’t really mean it. Don’t—Raet, please don’t be sad.”

Raettonus sighed and crossed his arms. “I should never have taken Kimohr Raulinn’s offer,” he said sullenly. “I should never have let him bring Sir Slade back to life.”

Brecan’s eyes widened. “Don’t say something like that,” he said. “Raet, you love Slade; why would you say that?”

“I think it would’ve been better for both of us if he’d stayed dead,” Raettonus mumbled. Clouds were beginning to roll in from the south, blotting out the starlight. “I would rather he know me as a pure, innocent young man, the way I was when he died. It’s too bad that that young man died the day he did.”

“Raet…”

Raettonus turned back to Brecan, but wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I really am a monster now,” he said quietly. “It…it’s physically painful to me that Slade sees this. What’s worse is… Well, I don’t think I even want to change, to be a better person. Not even for him.”

Chapter Fourteen

Raettonus was on his way back down to his cell when he came across General Diahsis drunkenly staggering along a little-used hallway. His face lit up as he caught sight of Raettonus. Leaning against a wall for support he called out, “Magician! Well met! Come over here and talk with me awhile.” His words weren’t at all slurred, but his face was red with drink, and his eyes had an unfocused look about them.

“It’s late,” Raettonus told him. “I’d really rather not.”

“Oh, please, Magician?” he begged. “Come here. Let’s talk. We never talk, you and I, and I should like very much to get to know you. Please?”

Raettonus sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said, crossing his arms. “For a bit. I guess.”

“Oh, good!” said Diahsis with a smile. He pushed himself away from the wall and stumbled sideways a few steps before Raettonus caught him. The general laughed and wrapped one arm around Raettonus’ narrow shoulders. “You’re stronger than you look, aren’t you?”

“A lot stronger,” agreed Raettonus. “You really shouldn’t be walking around. You’re going to fall and crack your head open. Not that that wouldn’t be completely hilarious.”

“Right, then,” said Diahsis, looking around. He pointed toward a door a little up the hallway. “Let’s go have a seat in there and talk a bit then.”

Raising an eyebrow, Raettonus looked toward the door Diahsis had indicated. “And what’s in there?” he asked.

“I don’t know!” exclaimed Diahsis. He laughed again. “We’ll find out when we get there. It’s like an adventure!”

Raettonus sighed and started toward the room, helping Diahsis along. “You are very drunk,” he said. “How many glasses of wine did you have?”

“I don’t know. It’s not as though I were counting. Oh, hold on.”

He broke away from Raettonus and staggered backward a few steps before turning, doubling over, and promptly retching on the floor. Straightening up, he wiped the vomit from his lips with the back of his hand.

“Lovely,” muttered Raettonus.

“I feel much better now,” Diahsis said, walking unevenly back toward Raettonus. He laid his arm again on the magician’s shoulders. “What were we talking about?”

Raettonus shook his head and helped the general to the door. “Nothing at all,” he said, turning the knob and flinging it open. The room was small, containing only a low table. Dust hung heavy on the tabletop and the floor, and the torches sat in their sconces unburnt. Raettonus ran his fingers across the tops of the torches, and flames sprang to life upon them. He eased the general carefully down onto the table and took a seat beside him.

“This is good,” said Diahsis, looking around. “This is a good room. I like it.”

“You like it?” asked Raettonus incredulously. “There’s nothing in here. What could you possibly like about it?”

“It’s a good room,” said Diahsis. “It’s just…good. It’s good.”

“That’s not a reason,” Raettonus said.

With a chuckle and a dashing smile, Diahsis leaned his head against Raettonus’ shoulder and looked up at him. “You’re very handsome, Magician,” he said. “You’re a handsome magician. Could you show me a magic trick?”

“I’m not a trained monkey,” Raettonus replied, scowling. “I don’t do tricks on command.”

“Oh, please, Magician?” he asked. He rested one hand on Raettonus’ thigh. “Pretty please? I’d love to see you do some magic for me.”

Raettonus sighed. “You’re just going to keep asking if I say no again, aren’t you?”

Diahsis nodded. “I’m very persistent, Magician,” he said. “It’s really my best quality. Ha, well, persistence and handsomeness. My two best qualities. My third best quality is being charming. So will you do a trick for me, Magician?”

“Fine,” said Raettonus. “I suppose I’ll show you some magic.”

“Really? Oh, good!” said Diahsis, clasping his hands together against his chest. “Oh, I’m excited! What are you going to do?”

“God, you just chatter like a parakeet, don’t you?” Raettonus muttered. “Just be quiet and watch, could you?”

“Quiet and watch—I can do that. I’m good at watching, do it all the time.”

“That may be, but you are clearly not very good at quiet.” Raettonus let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head. He stretched out one arm and reached into that holding space between worlds. His fingers ran across a little leather journal and he closed them around it. When he withdrew his hand from the space the journal came with him, and he showed it to Diahsis.

“Oh, what’s that?” asked Diahsis, plucking it out of Raettonus’ grasp.

“A journal,” Raettonus answered, reaching for it. Diahsis merely pulled the journal farther away. “The magic trick was making it appear. The journal isn’t important. May I have it back?”

Diahsis flipped through the pages. “Whose is it? I can’t read this writing. You have terrible penmanship.”

Raettonus managed to grab hold of the journal and jerk it away. “You can’t read it because it’s French, you idiot,” he said.

“Ah. Well, here I was thinking I might be drunker than I thought,” said Diahsis with a laugh. “French. That’s good to know. Is it your journal, Magician?”

“No, it isn’t,” Raettonus said, replacing the little leather-bound book in the place between worlds. “It’s Sir Slade’s.”

“Ah! The man with the glowing eyes, right?” said Diahsis. “He’s a handsome fellow, isn’t he?”

“Mm. I suppose so.”

“He has a nose almost just the same as my late lover,” Diahsis said with a sigh. “Rysah—that was my lover’s name. He died.”

“Fascinating,” said Raettonus flatly. “Actually, I don’t really care about your lover or his nose.”

“He was handsome,” Diahsis said, paying Raettonus no mind. “And he was smart too. So smart. He had all these books, and he spoke all these languages… He was enormous, too—just massive. Six and half foot, or maybe a little taller. He’s dead now.”

“So you said.”

“Did I? Oh… Well, he’s dead,” said Diahsis. “I burned his body in Virsah. There’s this big statue of Cykkus at the temple there, and that’s where we did it.”

“Entrancing,” said Raettonus, rolling his eyes. “Really, now, are we done with this?”

Diahsis shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess so. We can talk of something else, I guess. Oh, like dragons! I almost killed a dragon… Almost. Next time, I will kill it. I’ll land the finishing blow. I’ll be magnificent. You should be there, Magician. You should see me.”

“I’m not interested in hunting dragons,” Raettonus told him bluntly.

“But, dragons, Magician!” said Diahsis, leaning his face into Raettonus’ shoulder. The cloth of the magician’s tunic muffled his words. “Dragons. They’re enormous, and they have these claws that just—that crush stone, and they do not feel fear.”

“And what is your point?” Raettonus asked. “Those are bad reasons to hunt dragons. There really aren’t any good reasons, since it’s so much more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Worth? Ha!” Diahsis sighed contently. “Magician, I can’t really tell you the worth of killing a dragon if you don’t already understand it. But… But it’s… Have you faced down a dragon? It gets your whole body going—all the blood and the sweat and the heat, just moving around your body. It’s like being on fire.”

“I’ve been on fire, actually. Pretty regularly in fact. I was on fire earlier today, come to think,” Raettonus said. “I can tell you, you probably couldn’t imagine what being on fire is like. You should go talk to my servant Rhodes. He could tell you.”

Diahsis frowned for a moment. “Rhodes?” he asked. “Ah, never mind it. Tell me, Magician, why won’t you come work for me? Help me take Zylekkha?”

“I’ve already told you,” Raettonus said tiredly. “I have no interest in your war.”

“That’s why we’d pay you—pay you to take an interest in it,” said Diahsis. “Come, now, Magician, be a little reasonable.”

“I’m being perfectly reasonable,” Raettonus told him flatly. “You tell me, General. Just why should I care who rules Zylekkha? I mean, whether it’s the Zylekkhan king sitting the throne here or the Tahlehson king, it has nothing to do with me. King Shalrish, King Saemohr—I’m going to outlive the both of them, you know, and probably their whole goddamn dynasties. Why should I care about this skirmish?”

“It’s more than a skirmish,” scoffed Diahsis. “This is a war bards will sing of for ages to come. They’ll tell stories about it, Magician. Stories. I’m going to be in those stories too. I’m going to be a hero. They’re going to sing about me like they sing about Daebrish. They’re going to paint me and hang my portraits up on walls.”

“Sounds fantastic,” Raettonus replied flatly. “A good thing you’ve got going, certainly. Just a shame that’s not actually going to happen.”

“Of course it’ll happen. I’ll make it happen,” Diahsis said, an easy smile on his full lips. “I’m going to be so absolutely breathtaking that they’ll have to be crazy not to sing my praises. I’m going to make the world shake, Magician. I’m going to make the sky rain blood. I’m going to make myself a god in mortal flesh. Just you wait, Magician. You’re going to see me reborn as a deity. Everywhere they’ll hear my name and—and they’ll put up little shrines for me in their houses so they can worship me every morning and night.”

Raettonus cocked one eyebrow. “You have some pretty powerful delusions.”

With a laugh, Diahsis closed his eyes and resettled his face against Raettonus’ shoulder so his lips brushed against the blond man’s neck. “They aren’t delusions, Magician,” he said softly. “I met a fortune teller once in Nuntah, out on the swamps. She threw salt into a fire and read the flames. She read the flames for me, and the flames told her I was bound for greatness beyond measure. Kaeriaht himself told her I would be great—he told her with the flames. Do you want to doubt those flames, Magician? Doubt Kaeriaht? I’m not going to.”

“Kaeriaht,” scoffed Raettonus. “Honestly, I’m not convinced your fire god exists. I’m not convinced any of your gods exist, really…except Kimohr Raulinn. That one I will concede.”

“Ha, I’m not sure they exist either,” said Diahsis, smiling broadly. “Still, the fire told the fortune teller I was going to be great. Fire doesn’t lie, Magician.”

“Fortune tellers lie,” Raettonus said flatly. “In fact, they pretty much always lie. Hate to be the one to break it to you, General, but she was only telling you what you wanted to hear.”

With a soft laugh and another winning smile, Diahsis said, “Oh, Magician, you’re really very cynical, aren’t you? You don’t think it’s at all that she was telling me the truth? That the truth just happens to also be what I wanted to hear?”

“Is that what you think? Really?”

“Of course,” said Diahsis. He let out a little sigh of contentment. “You’re very warm, Magician. Like a blanket that’s been slept in. Very warm.”

“I’m full of fire.”

“Mm, it’s nice,” said Diahsis. He pressed himself closer against Raettonus and half opened his eyes. “Will you show me more magic?”

“No,” Raettonus said. “You didn’t appreciate the last trick. I’m not doing any more of them.”

“I did! I did appreciate it—I did,” Diahsis insisted. He nudged Raettonus’ ribs softly. “Come on, Magician. Do another trick for me. Oh, please? I never get to meet powerful, handsome magicians like you. Just one more trick? Please?”

Raettonus sighed and looked down at the half-elf general leaned against him. “What is your obsession with magic tricks? I mean, really?” he said. “You know who asks to see magic tricks when they find out I’m a magician? Children. Children do that. Grown men do not.”

“I like magic. What’s wrong with that? It’s so…out of the ordinary,” Diahsis said with a lethargic shrug of one toned shoulder. “Please, Magician? Just show me some magic. Just once more, and I won’t bother you again about it the rest of the night.”

“Or I could just go ahead and leave and not have to hear any more from you or act like it’s my responsibility to be your own personal entertainer. Honestly, leaving is by far the more tempting choice.”

Diahsis frowned and wrapped his arm around Raettonus’. “No, never mind then,” he said quickly. “Don’t leave. I…I’ll be quiet about that. We’ll just go back to talking…”

“I don’t know. Leaving still sounds preferable.”

“No, no—sit, stay some more,” Diahsis said. He held Raettonus’ arm tightly. “Please stay some more. I promise not to ask for any more magic tricks.”

“All right. Fine,” said Raettonus reluctantly. “I guess I’ll stay awhile longer.”

Diahsis smiled. “Wonderful,” he said, loosening his grip on Raettonus’ arm. The general’s hand found its way back down to the magician’s thigh. “That’s good. Good. I…I wouldn’t want you to leave, Magician. I want to talk to you. I…” He frowned and furrowed his brow. “There aren’t really any other people here I can really talk to—not as equals. They’re all below me, you know. Soldiers don’t want to hold a chat with their superiors, you know.”

“Don’t want to talk to you? Couldn’t imagine why,” Raettonus said dryly.

The general ignored the comment, though whether purposefully or merely because he had been too wrapped up in his own thoughts to hear it, Raettonus couldn’t tell. “It’s a lot lonelier than you’d think it’d be, being a general,” said Diahsis. He stared vacantly at one of the torches on the wall. “You’d think it wouldn’t be. A general is a powerful man, after all. Certainly everyone loves a powerful man. People flock to him, certainly. They do flock to him—but it’s just birds flocking to a statue. They don’t come to the statue to admire the art of it. They just want to stand up on its shoulders for a while. People don’t flock to a general except to stand on his shoulders.”

“What did you expect?” asked Raettonus. “That everyone would like you because you’re the top dog? That’s not how hierarchy works. No one at the bottom of the pyramid hangs around the people at the top because they like them. They hang around to look good.”

“I’m so tired of being all alone, Magician,” Diahsis said, and his voice was barely a whisper. “Everyone around me is just waiting to use me up and toss me away. Gods above—I try my best to be amiable to these people, and all they do is plot to use me as a stepping-stone. I just want to make friends. I…” Suddenly, he let out a cold, joyless laugh. “I don’t have any friends, Magician. Isn’t that something? I try my hardest to be likeable, and yet have no friends. Gods, I haven’t had friends since I joined the army, really. Before that, even. Isn’t that something?”