Dirge for a Necromancer - By Ash Stinson Page 0,122
Raettonus, continued down the hall. Raettonus bit back another sigh and made his way up to Diahsis’ floor.
There was only one guard posted on the staircase when Raettonus reached the level, and he seemed to have been drinking. He moved aside to let Raettonus in, swaying slightly as he did.
Somewhere beyond the halls and empty passages, someone was playing a sorrowful song on a flute. He followed the sound to Diahsis’ airy study, where the general was seated beside Deggho dek’Kariss on a couch, playing a gleaming white flute. Lorum and another centaur were standing behind the couch, listening to the general play while Daeblau stood off beside a window overlooking the courtyard, staring down into the yard. As Raettonus stood in the doorway Deggho waved him in, but the others didn’t seem to notice him at all. Diahsis was playing with his eyes closed, a look of concentration on his face.
At some point after the battle someone had sewn Deggho’s head back onto his shoulders. The stitch work was neat and tidy, so Raettonus guessed it must have been Ebha or maybe Maeleht. Anger boiled up in Raettonus’ belly as he looked at the goblin. Deggho was just as unnatural as Slade, but yet here he still was. No one came to drag him back to Hell. All the other corpses that might have risen when Hell’s wall was breached—were they simply inconsequential? Was it only Slade’s life which had to be ended again? Was it only the life of the one man Raettonus cared about which needed to be taken away?
Apparently so.
Smothering the anger as best he could, Raettonus took a seat in a cushy armchair, throwing up his legs over one of the arms. Diahsis half opened his eyes as he was playing and stopped abruptly. “Magician!” he exclaimed. “You decided to come see us! I’m glad.”
“Well, I was already out and about,” said Raettonus.
Diahsis smiled. “Deggho painted a picture of me,” he said, pointing with his flute toward where the canvas leaned against a wall drying. In the painting, Diahsis stood proudly adorned in his shining dress armor, all bronze and silver and wrapped with yellow and blue silk. “It’s good, isn’t it? It looks just like me!” Diahsis wrapped one arm around Deggho’s shoulders. “You’re amazing, Deggy, you really are.”
“You’re too kind, General,” said Deggho. The goblin might’ve blushed a little if he still had blood circulating in his body to blush with.
Raettonus arched one eyebrow. “You’ve been drinking today, haven’t you?” he asked Diahsis.
Diahsis nodded, still smiling. “Just a little,” he said. “And it was only wine. Ah—would you like some? Vyrah, where did you put that bottle? You had it last, I think.”
The centaur standing beside Lorum—a young man with long, black hair and a scar that ran from his lower lip all the way to his navel—shrugged and said in a voice without an accent, “I think you emptied that one, actually.”
“Did I?” asked Diahsis, looking slightly distressed. He looked back toward Raettonus. “Gods, I’m sorry. I guess I drank that bottle. We could get a fresh one, though, if you want.”
“I’m fine,” Raettonus said. “I’m not in a mood to drink anyway.”
“Are you sure?” said Diahsis. “It’s very good wine. I think we have some brandy too. And—oh, we definitely had some rum.”
“I’m fine, really.”
Diahsis’ smile faltered a little. “Oh, all right,” he said. “Hey, Daeby, come over here and join us. Why don’t you tell us that story you told this morning? Raettonus and Vyrah weren’t here to hear it.”
“Hm?” Daeblau glanced at him quickly before returning his gaze to the yard. “Ah, forgive me, General, I don’t seem to recall what story that was.”
“Oh, you know—the one about that slave fighting ring in Ti Tunfa,” said Diahsis. “You tell it so well. Come over here and join us. What’s so interesting down there anyway?”
For a moment, Daeblau was tense. Suddenly, however, his shoulders relaxed and he turned away from the window. “Nothing,” he said. “Just watching the men at their drills. That’s all.”
“Oh, is that all?” said Diahsis, chuckling slightly. “See anything you like down there, Dae?”
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.”