Dirge for a Necromancer (29 page)

Daeblau shrugged and came to stand beside Lorum. “Like?” he said vaguely. “No, not particularly.”

“So, are you going to tell the story?” asked Diahsis.

“If you wish, General,” said Daeblau with a smile Raettonus could tell was carefully practiced.

“Oh, but start with the maid with one eye,” said Diahsis. “The bit before that drags. Start with the maid.”

Somewhere beyond the room there was a shout and the sound of a scuffle. Diahsis tried to get up, but Vyrah put on hand firmly on his shoulder. “I’m sure it was nothing,” he said. “We were about to hear a story, Daeblau?”

“Are you insane? Something’s going on out there,” said Lorum. He moved to make for the door, but Daeblau caught him by the arm. Outside the room, the sound had died away, and now there was only the clatter of hooves on stone approaching them.

“Stay. We’re in the middle of telling stories,” said Daeblau, smiling. He’d drawn a knife and was holding it to Lorum’s throat. “It’d be rude to go off while I’m in the middle of my story.”

There was a dagger in Vyrah’s hand now, as well, and he was holding it to Diahsis’ temple. The unarmed general stared at Raettonus. “I don’t suppose you’ll help me here, will you, Magician?” he asked, his sharp ears flattening against the sides of his head.

“This doesn’t concern me,” Raettonus answered.

“Hm. That’s pretty much just as I was expecting,” responded Diahsis, voice emotionless, as the doors clattered open. The general let out a small sigh. “Oh, well. I had to ask just for thoroughness’ sake, I suppose.”

Five centaurs in Zylekkhan armor and adorned with red and purple banners bustled into the room, wielding swords and halberds. “Diahsis of Tahlehsohr, my name is General Ahkuriin of the Royal Zylekkhan Army,” said the lead centaur. “We are here to demand your immediate surrender of this fort.”

Diahsis glanced from Ahkuriin to Daeblau. “Well. I suppose it’s all on me that I lost it, isn’t it?” he remarked. “I surrender, of course. There’s a bloody knife to my head, and all I’ve got is a flute. Do you think I’m going to fight?”

Ahkuriin signaled for two of his men to take Diahsis and Lorum into chains and crossed to Daeblau. “The King would like to recognize you for your wits in dealing with this infiltration,” he said, clapping one gauntleted hand down on Daeblau’s shoulder. “You’ve been promoted to general. Congratulations.”

“It’s an honor,” said Daeblau, bowing his head.

“General Ahkuriin, what about this one?” asked one of the soldiers, nodding toward Deggho.

Ahkuriin regarded him distastefully. “A goblin?”

“He was a hostage taken by the late General Tykkleht,” Daeblau informed him.

“Whatever,” said Ahkuriin. “Kill him, release him. I don’t care.”

“Um, I’d rather prefer to be released,” Deggho ventured in a small voice. “I’ve died once before. Didn’t care for it.”

“Fine, fine,” muttered Ahkuriin, obviously not paying much attention. “Bebukh, escort him out.”

The soldier took Deggho by the arm and pulled him to his feet. Silently, he led the goblin out of the room. Deggho cast a worried look backward at Diahsis as he reached the door, but allowed himself to be taken away without any resistance.

Ahkuriin turned his attention to Lorum. “What’s your name and rank?” he asked.

“Lorum of Bhelstra. I’m a captain,” Lorum said reluctantly.

“Well, we can’t sell a captain into slave labor. It wouldn’t be right,” said Ahkuriin. “What hand do you fight with, son?”

“My right,” answered Lorum wearily.

“Remove the top two fingers on his right hand,” said Ahkuriin to his soldiers. “Same with the other captains. Get Nahruk and his division to lead them out to the Koa after dawn tomorrow. You can let them go there.”

“Yes, sir,” said one of the soldiers. He looked at Diahsis. “Do we do the same with him?”

“Him?” said Ahkuriin. “No, he’s a general. You can’t cut off a captured general’s fingers. It’s disrespectful.” He paused a moment, flicking his equine tail. “Hang him.”

Diahsis’ facial expression didn’t change. He stared at Ahkuriin with a controlled look on his face, much the same as if the Zylekkhan general were only an uninvited guest who had loudly interrupted his party. At Ahkuriin’s motion, Diahsis was hauled to his feet and escorted from the room. As Ahkuriin and Daeblau began to converse in Kaerikyna, Raettonus stood and slunk out of the room and made his way toward the stairwell.

Kaebha Citadel was filled with soldiers wearing the Zylekkhan colors. They were shouting and joking to each other as they rounded up the Tahlehson soldiers and chained their arms and legs. No one spoke to Raettonus as he passed, and when the Zylekkhans looked at him they’d quickly look away after catching sight of his pale red eyes. Vaguely, he wondered what kinds of stories they’d heard about him.

On a third floor landing, Brecan found him. “Raet!” exclaimed the unicorn, cantering over to him and nearly bowling over a centaur youth as he did. “Hey, did you know? Zylekkha’s reclaimed Kaebha.”

Raettonus made a point of turning his head to look at all the Zylekkhan soldiers milling about them. “No,” he said flatly. “I had no idea.”

“Oh,” said Brecan, pulling into a stop as he reached Raettonus. “Well, they have! I’m not sure how they managed it, but when the Zylekkhan army reached the mountain there were loyalists on the gates and the rooftops, and they just opened the doors right up for them.”

“I was with Diahsis when they came in,” Raettonus said. He started again down the hall and Brecan followed with prancing steps. “Daeblau engineered it, I think. The Zylekkhan general seemed pleased with him, at any rate, and he seemed to be looking for something out in the courtyard. Probably some sort of signal that the fort was in Zylekkhan hands and it was safe to apprehend Diahsis.”

“Oh, Diahsis! What’s going to happen to him, Raet?” asked Brecan, flattening his ears. “I liked him. He liked to have parties with lots of food. They’re going to hurt him, aren’t they?”

“They’re going to hang him,” Raettonus said.

Brecan’s wings sagged against his back. “Oh,” he said quietly. “That’s…too bad.”

“There are worse things,” said Raettonus with a shrug. “His captains are getting their fingers cut off, and then they’re going to be let go in the desert.”

“In the desert with their fingers cut off?” asked Brecan. “The vampires out there’ll get them in no time.”

“I think that’s probably the idea.”

They entered into a feasting hall where the Zylekkhan soldiers were tearing down the blue and yellow banners adorning the walls and pillars. A couple of them took torches from the sconces on the wall and set fire to the banners while others trampled them with steel-shod hooves. A couple lifted their tails and defecated right on the Tahlehsohr blue and yellow.

“So,” said Brecan quietly as they passed through the hall. “Are you okay? Um, about Slade, I mean? Are you okay about Slade?”

Raettonus glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Trying to keep the emotion out of his voice he answered, “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Brecan swung his long tail side to side as they entered an empty corridor. “Well, because he just died. Again. And—and he left you behind,” said Brecan. “And he meant so much to you, and you had to watch him go off with Cykkus, and I can’t imagine how much that hurts. I mean, you tried so hard to keep him here—and you did good at it, Raet, you really did—but in the end, he just…died again. I—I just can’t imagine… I mean, no one would blame you if you’re sad or angry.”

“I’m not,” said Raettonus. “Really.”

“Well, okay. I mean, if you say so, Raet,” murmured Brecan. “I just…I’m afraid you are angry and sad, and you’re just going to turn all that inward. And that’s…it’s not good for you, Raet. It’s bad, ‘cause you’ll be walking around all full of pain and… I dunno, Raet, I just think that’s a bad thing.”

“I’m fine,” muttered Raettonus, barely holding back the edge on his voice. “Drop it.”

Brecan opened his mouth slightly, but seemed to think better of whatever he was going to say. He closed his mouth, and they walked quietly down the stairs together into another corridor full of rowdy Zylekkhan soldiers. After a while, Brecan spoke again. “I talked to Rhodes,” said the unicorn conversationally. “He was packing stuff up. He said we were going home. Are we going home, Raet? Back to Ti Tunfa?”

“Yeah,” Raettonus said. “Real soon. I’m tired of this place.”

“What about your students?” asked Brecan, his ears perking forward as he cocked his head to one side. “Aren’t you still having lessons with them?”

“Maeleht’s too sick to carry on with lessons,” said Raettonus. “I told him he wouldn’t be able to fully learn magic in a state like his. He really ought to have listened.”

“What about the other one? The older one?”

Raettonus shrugged. “He doesn’t come to the sessions, so the way I see it he must not want to learn,” he said.

They stepped out into the courtyard where wood was being stacked for a pyre, and a gallows was being hastily constructed from stone and wood. “That’s a lot of wood,” said Brecan.

“There’s a stack of bodies down in the holding cells,” Raettonus told him. “I came across them earlier. They must have been quietly killing guards and stashing them there. Guess they’re going to give them a proper burning.”

“A proper burning? Well, that’s nice of them,” said Brecan.

“Oh, yeah, real stand-up guys, all of them,” mumbled Raettonus. He caught sight of Dohrleht standing across the yard with a couple of the soldiers who were chuckling at something he was telling them. Raettonus motioned for Brecan to stay put. “Give me a second. I’ll be right back.”

The unicorn sat back on his haunches. “Oh, okay, Raet.”

The soldiers were leaving Dohrleht just as Raettonus reached him. Dohrleht watched Raettonus approach wearily. “Good afternoon,” he said in a small voice as Raettonus reached him.

“So, I guess you played a big role in Daeblau’s plan to get Kaebha back into Zylekkhan hands,” Raettonus said, hooking his thumbs through his belt. “Good job, or whatever.”

“Thanks,” said Dohrleht. “I…I really didn’t do all that much. I played lookout, mostly, and sent messages off with the hippogryphs that would come around. I…really, most everything that happened here happened because of Daeblau. He’s…he’s the hero. I just…I just helped a tiny bit.”

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. “So,” Raettonus said at last. “I’m leaving. Maybe next week or the week after that. Soon, anyway.”

“You’re leaving?” asked Dohrleht, furrowing his brow. “Why? We haven’t finished learning.”

“Your brother’s far too sick to do any more magic,” said Raettonus. “As for you… Well, if you want to keep learning, you’ll have to do it under someone else. I’m done with this place.”

Dohrleht frowned. “Oh,” he said. “Well…I’ll be sad to see you go, Raettonus. And, uh…I’m sorry. About telling Slade, I’m…I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be,” responded Raettonus. He looked away. “I was being an idiot. If you hadn’t told Slade, I would’ve let everyone in this whole damn fortress die. I was perfectly fine with murdering every one of you for his sake. Honestly? I still am. You slighted me by telling Slade, but it was unquestionably the right thing for you to do.”

He turned and started back toward Brecan. Behind him, Dohrleht made a hesitant move to follow, but was intercepted by a couple of soldiers congratulating him on helping take back the citadel. With one last glance at Raettonus’ back, Dohrleht cheerfully greeted them, and they began a boisterous conversation.

* * *

They hanged Diahsis at sunset.

He stood up on the gallows with his hands tied behind him, stripped naked but for his wolfskin cape, which hung limply off his broad, fit shoulders. His expression was blank as he stared out at the crowd.

“General Diahsis of Fybuk, son of Vaeminn Vohrtahl, One Hundred and Ninth Councilor of Shadows to the King of Tahlehsohr, serving King Saemohr,” said the executioner, reading from a slip of parchment. “On this day, the twenty-fifth day in the season of Kaeriaht, in the five thousandth and ninety-fifth year of the Creator, you have been brought forward to answer for your crimes against the Royal Zylekkhan Crown. Do you know what crimes you are accused of?”

“I do not,” answered Diahsis emotionlessly, still staring forward, his ears drawn back like an angry animal.

“General Diahsis of Fybuk, you have been found guilty of the murder of General Tykkleht of Sae Noklu, you have been found guilty of attempting to overthrow the Royal Zylekkhan Crown, you have been found guilty of blasphemous thoughts and actions against the god Cykkus, you have been found guilty of planning to give aid to goblins, and you have been found guilty of being an elf in possession of a blade which is longer than a knife.”

Diahsis scoffed at that, but said nothing.

“You have been found guilty,” continued the executioner, “of planning the murder of King Shalrish of Bribarrah, you have been found guilty of engaging in combat against the Royal Zylekkhan Army, you have been found guilty of the murders of four hundred and fifteen soldiers of the Royal Zylekkhan army through actions both direct and indirect. For these crimes, you have been sentenced, by General Ahkuriin of Bribarrah and by King Shalrish of Bribarrah whom he represents, to hang.”

Raettonus couldn’t help but note as the noose was placed around Diahsis’ neck that his murder of Deggho dek’Kariss was not amongst the charges brought against him.

“Do you have any final words?” asked the executioner.

Diahsis took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. “What good will words do me now?” he asked. “Just kill me.”

The executioner obliged and pushed him off the platform.

For a moment, Diahsis fell through the air. Then the rope went taut and jerked tight about his throat. Someone hadn’t done the knot quite right, however, so it didn’t break his neck. He thrashed about as the noose strangled the breath out of him slowly. He kicked his feet wildly into the empty air, his face growing dark red. It was a few minutes before he finally grew still and his body relaxed. After all the centaurs had turned their attention to the pyre which was being lit, Raettonus continued to watch Diahsis’ body sway slowly back and forth, the gallows creaking slightly with his weight.