Dirge for a Necromancer - By Ash Stinson Page 0,48
hurt you, but—”
“If I have to ask a third time for you to open your gates,” called Kimohr Raulinn, “then things are going to get violent.”
Cykkus motioned with one large, gauntleted hand, and the creatures on the walls held up their arms as though they were aiming bows. They drew back their hands as if pulling back bowstrings. “One last time, I implore you,” said Cykkus. “Please—if Zylx means anything to you, or ever meant anything to you, just drop the bag, and we’ll open the gate for you. I really wish no harm on you, Kimohr Raulinn, but I must fight you if you pursue this foolish course of action. Please, in the name of whatever love you ever bore anyone, drop that bag.”
Kimohr Raulinn smiled. “No,” he said. He took a step forward.
Cykkus’ shoulders slumped, and his glowing red eyes seemed to dim a bit into the shadows of his helm. “Loose!” shouted the death god. All at once, there was the sound of bowstrings being let go, and thousands of black arrows, each surrounded by a nebulous aura, sailed through the air toward Kimohr Raulinn.
Raettonus woke with a start.
It was still nighttime, but his stomach ached, and he didn’t think he was going to be able to get back to sleep. With a groan, he sat up and rubbed at his stomach, the dream escaping him like sand through outspread fingers. Deciding a walk might do him good, Raettonus stood and pulled on his tunic. Buckling his belt around his waist, he left his dark, cold room.
The hall outside was dim, with the only lit torches few and far between. Raettonus wandered along the shadowy passage, his skin glowing faintly. At the hall’s end, there were arrow slits, and Raettonus paused to look out them. Farther down the mountain, he saw the Tahlehsons’ campfires burning as they worked on their towers and battering rams. Kaebha Citadel had been getting supplies from ships that had been sailing out of the werewolf city of Myrashekk until a few months before when the Tahlehson host realized this and sank one of the ships. Since then, none dared to come near the citadel. It hadn’t put Tykkleht’s men in a tight spot thus far, but their food supply was getting lower and lower with each passing day. Raettonus suspected the walls would be breached by the time food shortages were a problem, however; the Tahlehsons were camped too far away for the citadel’s defenders to shoot from the walls and were too big an army to assault directly.
Turning away from the arrow slit, Raettonus started down the hall. His boots were soft and barely made a sound on the hard, stone floors, but somewhere nearby he could hear the echo of slow hoof beats as someone—a soldier, Raettonus imagined—made their way leisurely through the citadel. He turned a corner and came upon a balcony that overlooked the floor below, from which the hoof beats were coming. Raettonus paused to see who was about and spotted two centaurs walking side by side beneath him. Hands linked together, they drew near to a sconce, and the light revealed them to be Dohrleht and Daeblau. They were speaking in low voices, but Raettonus didn’t much care what they were saying and moved on.
It was seldom that Raettonus found himself sleeping through a whole night anymore. Suddenly, Raettonus missed Ti Tunfa very much. It had never felt like home to him, that little shack on the Ti Tunfan plains, but at least there he wasn’t molested by gods and constantly having nightmares. No, in Ti Tunfa he had dreamed more in memories—though, when he thought about it, most of his memories weren’t quite a step up from nightmares.
Sometimes—though not lately—he dreamed a scene that was part memory, part blind wish. In those dreams, he braved that strange land of Zylekkha for the first time and made his way into the Center of Souls, which sat where the dense northern forest met the plains. It was a horrible, stony place, filled with ethereal specters that fed on blood and flesh. The whole region sloped inward, so that he stumbled upon the rocky, slanted path. The trees were all withered and dead, and boulders jutted up like fangs from the earth. As he made his way downward, toward the ten pillars nestled in the bottommost point of the Center, Brecan walked beside him, shivering and begging Raettonus to turn back.