Dirge for a Necromancer - By Ash Stinson Page 0,15

to who might be down here.”

“And just what were you doing down here, skulking about in the dark, hm?” asked Raettonus, raising one eyebrow.

“I live down here,” the goblin said. “I’m not armed. Can you please move that blade from off my chest? You can see that I don’t have a weapon.”

Raettonus considered a moment. “Fair enough,” he said, withdrawing his rapier. The goblin was at least two feet taller than him with sharp nails and spikes growing up from his shoulders, but if it came to a fight Raettonus was certain he could beat him, even without his blade or any magic. Raettonus’ limbs were short, but they were thick with muscle, whereas the goblin’s were long, but thin and without definition. He didn’t look at all hardy, the goblin—his cheeks were hollow and his sand-colored eyes were sunken, his hair was thin and long and greasy. The goblin’s skin was a pale blue color, and Raettonus could see his veins beneath it. “Who are you?”

“I’m called Deggho dek’Kariss, or—in the common Zylekkhan tongue—Deggho Who Leads the Kariss,” the goblin answered. His eyes came to rest on the fire in Raettonus’ hand, and his mouth opened into a little “O” for a moment. “That’s…not a torch.”

“No, it’s not,” Raettonus agreed. “What’s Kariss? Is that your tribe?”

Deggho nodded. “I don’t really lead it though—it’s a family name,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Youngest son of the Kariss chief, that’s me. That was a few years ago though, and my father wasn’t in such good health, so maybe the Kariss chief is my oldest brother now. But, no—someone would’ve sent word if my father died, I guess. Or maybe they forgot about me.”

Raettonus leaned back against the painting behind him, and Deggho winced at the action. “And what is a goblin chief’s son doing in one of the Zylekkhan army’s fortresses, I suppose I should ask?” Raettonus said. “Is this the sort of thing I should tell the general about?”

The goblin shook his head. “General Tykkleht? No, he knows I’m here,” he said. “I’m his hostage, as a matter of fact. He is still the general in charge here, right? I haven’t spoken to him in a long while. I—I wonder sometimes if they’ve forgotten about me. I find supplies at the foot of the stairs in this room every day, but I haven’t seen a soul down here in such a long time that my mind begins to wander, and I start to think…”

“He’s still in charge, yes,” Raettonus answered. Deggho twitched and fiddled with his tattered doublet. “How long have you been down here?”

“Three years, I’ve been given run of this wing,” Deggho said. “Before that I had a room beside the general, and before that I had a tower room, and before that I had a room in the dungeon—but that one was just for a little while, when I was first captured. S-say—are you the Magician Raettonus?”

Raettonus raised his eyebrows. “I see my reputation precedes me, even to the most forgotten corners of the kingdom.”

Deggho scratched at one arm idly. “It was your eyes that gave it away,” he muttered. “That and the fire. There aren’t many magicians with red eyes. Though…I was expecting someone bigger. You don’t look at all like they describe you in the stories they tell.”

Cocking one eyebrow, Raettonus asked, “And how do they describe me in your stories?”

“I…I don’t want to say. It’d be rude,” Deggho said. But Raettonus insisted for several minutes until he finally wore the goblin down. “Mind you, it’s a…it’s a very second-hand description. After all, when was the last time you spoke to any goblins, much less any goblins of the Kariss?”

“Not for a long time,” Raettonus said. “Go on and tell me, then.”

“Okay,” said Deggho, looking down timidly. “Let’s see, um… Well, the stories said you were at least nine feet tall, with pale red eyes rimmed with fire. They said you had great big tusks and horns and claws, and that you rode upon a hunter unicorn.”

“Well, that last part’s true,” Raettonus said. “I do ride a hunter unicorn.”

“Really?”

Raettonus nodded. “He’s here with me, in fact.”

Deggho glanced around and then pointed toward the painting behind Raettonus. “I noticed you were looking at this,” he said. “Do you like it?”

“It’s fairly good, for a war scene,” said Raettonus with a shrug.

Deggho bit his lower lip; it didn’t seem to be what he had wanted to hear. “I painted it,” the goblin told him