Dirge for a Necromancer (23 page)

“General Diahsis woke up. I was told to fetch you,” said the soldier.

“Right, right,” groaned Raettonus, trying again to sit up. He waved the soldier closer and grabbed his arm for support. “Think you’re going to need to carry me, actually. Couldn’t Diahsis come here? Why do I have to go to him?”

The soldier helped him up, and he tried to walk, but found himself growing dizzy. After a little bit of urging, the centaur let Raettonus ride on his back and carried him down to the room where he had left Diahsis the afternoon before. Diahsis was lying in his bed, propped up against the headboard, waiting for Raettonus when he arrived. Deggho, Daeblau, and two soldiers Raettonus had either never seen before or couldn’t remember, were with him. “Magician!” said Diahsis warmly as he entered. “I want to thank you for the bang-up job you did on my leg. You saved my life.”

“Yeah, well,” said Raettonus. “I was just doing what I always do. Which is to say, being amazing.”

“Well, good job,” said the general agreeably. He motioned to the two strangers. “This is Captain Lorum and Captain Uhkeht, by the way.”

Raettonus nodded casually in their direction and leaned against the wall. “Tell me,” he said to Diahsis. “What was the attack like? How many creatures were there? What did they look like?”

“There were seven of them,” said Diahsis. “Horrible creatures with teeth made of iron and these soulless, black eyes…”

Deggho was sitting on the foot of the bed. “They came out of nowhere,” he told Raettonus. “We had twelve soldiers with us, but as soon as those things showed up they didn’t have a chance. We barely made it away…”

“Do you have any idea what they might have been?” Diahsis asked.

Raettonus nodded. “Abassy,” he said. “I’ve seen their bite before. It’s unmistakable.”

“Abassy?” asked Uhkeht. He was an older centaur with long, gray hair and a crooked nose that looked like it had been broken in several places at some point. “Aren’t those the servants of Cykkus?”

Lorum, a much younger centaur with wide brown eyes and a child-like face, asked, “What would make abassy attack us? I mean, is that even possible?”

“Obviously it’s possible,” Raettonus said. “It happened.”

Lorum crossed his arms and muttered something Raettonus couldn’t hear. Deggho’s ears twitched, and he turned his head toward Raettonus. “Wait—you’ve treated abassy bites before? Where? On whom?”

“I’m not at liberty to say. It doesn’t matter, anyhow.”

“I’m going to have to respectfully disagree, Magician,” said Diahsis. He leaned forward in his bed and gave Raettonus a stern look with his light blue eyes. Eyes like Slade’s, back before he died. “I get the feeling you know more about the abassy than you’re saying.”

Raettonus shrugged. Uhkeht took a step toward him. “Whatever it is you know,” he said, “you must tell us. We need to understand, so we can prepare. Where did they come from? Why?”

For a moment, Raettonus was silent as the four men watched him pleadingly. “Yeah, I guess I do have an idea about why they’re here,” he said finally. “And I certainly know where they came from and how they got here.”

“Tell us,” said Diahsis. He pursed his lips and crossed his hands over his lap, his soft blue eyes studying Raettonus’ face hard as he waited for an answer.

“Kimohr Raulinn broke down the walls of Hell,” Raettonus said.

“Why would he do that?” asked Uhkeht. Raettonus shrugged and turned his face away.

“They’re coming to take me to Hell, aren’t they?” asked Deggho, tears beginning to well up in the corners of his eyes. “They know I got out somehow and they’ve come for me, haven’t they?”

“I don’t think so,” said Diahsis. He didn’t take his gaze off Raettonus. “No, I think they’ve come for the Magician’s friend—the man with the glowing eyes.”

Raettonus sighed and looked at the general. “Fine. You’ve got me,” he said. “Sir Slade was brought out of Hell by Kimohr Raulinn. The abassy are here because of it. Hell, that’s probably why Deggho’s here and not rotting in a Kariss grave right now.”

“This isn’t good,” said Uhkeht. “We can’t possibly hold off the forces of a god. We haven’t even finished rebuilding the walls. We’ll be slaughtered in a day when his men arrive here. Certainly they were headed this way when they attacked you and the men, General. They know. If they didn’t before, they must know now.”

“We’re going to have to give up this Sir Slade,” put in Lorum. “We have to hope it’ll be enough to placate Lord Cykkus. It’s the only way to prevent a war we can’t win.”

“You will not be giving Sir Slade up to anyone,” Raettonus snapped. He pushed himself away from the wall and stood as tall as he could manage with his severe height disadvantage.

“You expect us to fight Death for your friend’s sake?” said Lorum. “Gods above, man—I will not die to protect your friend. My first concern is the well-being of my men, and they will not die in this hopeless war.”

Raettonus glowered at him. “Well, then, how’s this for your men? If you try to give up Sir Slade, or tell him anything about this, I will kill you and every single one of your soldiers myself,” he said, placing his hand on the hilt of his rapier. “I’m sure you’re aware I have the power to do so. I could burn this entire fortress to the ground. If you doubt I would, well…” He motioned with his free hand to his pale red eyes. “I didn’t lose my soul by being a good person.”

A pensive silence fell across the group. Finally, Lorum lowered his face and took a step back. Diahsis slid himself out of his bed, standing as steadily as he could. “All right, we’ve got no time to lose then,” he said. “Uhkeht, get that wall up. Lorum, you’re in charge of preparing external defenses. I want a deep chasm around this fort—really deep. And fill it with something painful.”

“Yes, General,” said the two captains, and they started off to their tasks.

When the centaurs were gone, Diahsis turned his attention to Raettonus once again. “I’d tell you the deaths of my men will be on your shoulders,” he said. “But I get the feeling it wouldn’t move you at all.”

“You’re right. It wouldn’t.”

“You’re dismissed, Magician,” said the general. “When Cykkus and his abassy are at our gates, however, I expect to find you on the front lines defending Kaebha. After all, this is your battle. None of us have a stake in it.”

“I have a stake in it,” put in Deggho timidly.

“I will defend Sir Slade to my last breath,” said Raettonus. “If you dare try to give him up, or tell him about this—”

“You need not fear that, Magician,” said Diahsis. “I think this is ill-advised, but I understand. I’ve been in love before, and I know what it is to have someone you love die. If all the people I’ve loved who I’ve lost could come back to me, I’d rather face down Cykkus, as well, than let them die again.” He lifted his wolf skin cape from where it had been folded on the floor and laid its paws over his shoulders. “I think, though, if I can be frank, a man your age shouldn’t have such crippling issues with death. You need to learn to let go, Raettonus.”

Easy enough for you to talk about, Raettonus might have said. Some day, you’ll see the people you’ve lost again, when you die. I don’t have that luxury.

Instead he bid the general a curt farewell, and left the room. Four soldiers were loitering in the hall, talking to each other in hushed voices. As they noticed him, they broke off their conversation. “Good morning, Magician,” one of them ventured timidly. Raettonus nodded to him and wordlessly went on his way.

He thought of going to his lessons with Maeleht and Dohrleht but decided against it. Instead he went back to his room and laid his sore, tired body down on the bed and slept for a long while.

* * *

Most of the soldiers in Kaebha were employed pulling huge stone blocks to the citadel and helping maneuver them into place. Another large portion of the soldiers were busy digging an enormous trench to separate the citadel from the rest of the mountain. When Raettonus asked about it, Diahsis expressed his intention for the trench to be dug so wide and deep that nothing would ever be able to cross it. Raettonus thought that idea impractical and told the general as such, only to be met with a light-hearted laugh. They spoke no further about it to one another.

“The soldiers seem very busy,” Slade remarked to Raettonus, a week or so later. “What are they preparing for?”

“I’m not sure, Master,” Raettonus said.

Slade frowned. “I see you talking to the general an awful lot,” he said. “He didn’t tell you what was going on in a single conversation?”

“He hasn’t told me anything, no,” said Raettonus. Slade gave him a hard look, but dropped the issue.

At night, from the citadel’s roof, Raettonus could see a pulsing light far off in the distance, obscured by the mountain tops and cliffs. The gently shifting light was blue and bright, and it made the mountains appear as if they were breathing in and out in slow, rhythmic patterns. Brecan sat with Raettonus, staring at it.

“What do you suppose that is?” the unicorn asked.

“Hell, I think,” answered Raettonus.

Brecan cocked his head this way, then that. “It’s pretty,” he said. “Raet… Something bad’s about to happen, isn’t it?”

“Something bad’s always about to happen,” Raettonus said.

“Worse than usual, I mean,” said Brecan. He turned his face from the distant light, toward Raettonus, and looked at him with one pale blue eye. “You told me before that it’s impossible to bring someone back from the dead, and even though Sir Slade’s been brought back… It’s still impossible, isn’t it? He doesn’t belong here, and bad things are about to happen because of it.” He waited for Raettonus to respond, but was met only with silence. Looking back toward the light, Brecan went on, “I’m afraid, Raet. How can we fight Death himself? I don’t think we can. I think when everything’s said and done, we’re gonna be in a bad way.”

“You think I should give Master Slade up without a fight,” Raettonus said, his voice dangerously low.

The unicorn readjusted his leathery white wings. “No, I don’t think that at all,” he said. “I just think… Well, I just think that, in the end, things’ll turn out bad. I was thinking that maybe you didn’t realize that, but… No, that was stupid of me. You know it…don’t you?”

Raettonus nodded mutely.

“I just…I wanted to make sure you knew,” said Brecan.

“Don’t tell Slade about any of this,” said Raettonus.

Brecan flattened his ears. “I wasn’t going to,” he said. “I mean, yeah, I think you should tell him what’s going on, and that it’s kinda mean of you to keep it from him, but if you don’t want me to tell him, Raet, I won’t.”

“If he knew that this is happening because of him, he’d try to stop it,” Raettonus said. “I can’t let him do that. How could I just let him do that?”

“In your place I wouldn’t either, I guess,” said Brecan. “I won’t tell him anything about it, Raet.”

Absently, Raettonus reached up and stroked Brecan’s neck. Brecan laid his head in Raettonus’ lap, and they watched the night for a while longer. In the distant blue-lit valleys they began to see things moving along the paths in tight, orderly rows. The black shapes marched closer and closer. It wouldn’t be long before they were at Kaebha’s doors. Raettonus suspected noon would see them making their way up the mountainside. And after that…

The wall still wasn’t completely fixed—not by a long shot. The trench was coming along, but not nearly well enough to be finished by the next day. An infirmary was being set up for the battle to come, but it wasn’t going to be big enough or well staffed enough to help anyone. Raettonus had his pyromancy, but it’d only been a week since he’d healed Diahsis, and that meant he didn’t have as much power as he might’ve had.

“I’m going to need you when the battle starts up,” Raettonus said to Brecan. He could feel the unicorn tense as he slowly rubbed his neck.

“Okay, Raet,” Brecan said, trying to push the fear out his voice. “I know I let you down a lot before, but this time I’m not going to.”

Raettonus slid himself out from under Brecan’s head and stood. “Good night,” he said, starting for the stairs.

“Good night, Raet,” Brecan called after him.

The halls were dark within the citadel, with all the torches having been put out hours before. The only exception was Diahsis’ floor, which Raettonus noticed was brightly lit and full of conversation, with the sweet notes of a flute floating gently out of one of the rooms. Raettonus shook his head as he passed. Irresponsible, he thought. Revelry on a night like this.

He made his way deeper, half lost in thought. As he passed through a shady hall full of solemn paintings he heard soft, uneven hoofbeats near at hand and paused a moment. The sound was coming from a narrow corridor off to his right. Only half-curious, he peered around the corner and saw Dohrleht slowly pacing in the gloom about twenty yards away.

“You’re up late,” Raettonus remarked, entering the corridor.

Dohrleht jumped slightly and turned, wide-eyed, toward Raettonus before relaxing a little. “Uh, y-yeah, guess I am,” he said. He glanced over his shoulder at a staircase before turning his attention back to Raettonus. “I heard some of the soldiers talking. We’re going to be in a battle tomorrow, aren’t we?”

“We are.”

He bit his lip. “Will I be fighting?” he asked. “I can, you know. My leg’s all broken, but you taught me magic, and—”

“You don’t know nearly enough magic to be useful in a fight,” said Raettonus dismissively. “You and your brother should help in the infirmary. You’ll be with Master Slade there.”

The young centaur screwed up his face. “I’m not useless,” he said. “I can fight. I want to fight.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have shattered your leg into a thousand unhealable pieces then,” Raettonus said. “This isn’t some jousting game that no one will let you play anymore. This is an actual battle—with the forces of Hell, no less. Your job is in the infirmary, where you can actually do something and won’t just get in the way.”

“But I won’t get in the way on the front lines,” objected Dohrleht.

“Yes, you will,” said Raettonus. “Either your leg’s going to get you in the other men’s way, or you’re going to end up dead and just clutter the battlefield. I’ve been in wars. Trust me on this.”