Dirge for a Necromancer - By Ash Stinson Page 0,52
to receive only an icy scowl in return. “Well, gentlemen,” he said when the centaurs had settled into their sofas. “I’m sure you’ve noticed my army camped a few miles down your mountain?”
“We have,” said Tykkleht.
“We intend to have this fort,” Diahsis told him. “I’m not a hard man, General. I’d be more than happy to let you surrender.”
“Zylekkhans do not surrender,” said Tykkleht calmly.
“But if you don’t want to give in,” Diahsis continued, as though the old general had not said a word, “we are more than ready to breach you. You don’t have the numbers to stand up to us or else you would have already tried. I know why you’re hiding behind your walls, General Tykkleht. Your walls cannot protect you.”
“My walls are solid stone,” Tykkleht told him.
“Even stone can be worn away, supposing one has the patience—and I am nothing if not patient, General,” replied the half-elf Tahlehson. He continued to smile pleasantly, as if this conversation were something of little consequence. “If, however, you should choose to surrender, we will not harm any of your soldiers and even offer them a place in Tahlehsohr’s army. Those who do not want to pledge their allegiance to our king will be confined, but no further harm will come to them.”
“We will not budge on this,” said Tykkleht firmly. “If you attempt to invade this citadel, blood will be shed.”
“And it will all be yours,” said Diahsis. He crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap. “Please, think of your men and not of your pride, hm? I mean, what good will your pride do you if you force me to breach your walls? Can you use your pride to staunch your men’s wounds, General Tykkleht? Can your pride raise the dead?”
“It is not pride that rejects your terms, but loyalty,” Tykkleht told him flatly. “I serve Zylekkha until the day I die.”
Diahsis chuckled softly, his gaze locked onto the older general’s pale face and the fever sweat glistening there on his nose and beneath his eyes. “That doesn’t look very far away,” he said. “Seriously, though, you should at least consider my generous, merciful offer instead of condemning your men to death from the get-go, shouldn’t you?”
“There is nothing to consider,” replied Tykkleht. “Tell me, General Diahsis, if our situations were reversed, would you surrender? Would you abandon Tahlehsohr just like that?”
Diahsis continued to smile. “Our situations wouldn’t be reversed,” he said. “I make it a point never to let surrender be my only option.”
“And what makes you certain it’s my only option?”
Again, Diahsis chuckled. “I know what you see when you look at me. You see an elf. ‘This is only an elf,’ you must think to yourself, looking at me,” he said. “You must think of me that, ‘this is an elf, and he is not as clever as a centaur.’ But that would be wrong. I am every bit as clever as a centaur. More clever than many of them, really, I’d be willing to bet.”
He leaned forward, all the humor gone from his expression though he was still smiling. “I’ve been observing your fortress for the year I’ve been camped beneath it,” he said. “I’ve watched your patrols on the walls, and I’ve sent scouts around to count them—yes, scouts, and you never caught them, did you? I’ve trained my men exceptionally well. It’s obvious what kind of force you have here, General. That is, what kind of force you don’t have here. Of course surrender’s not your only option—but your other option amounts to suicide. Certainly, if you’d rather die than surrender, that’s one thing—but what about your men? Would you kill every man here when I have already offered to absorb them into my army, or to simply hold them prisoner until the war is over?”
“Zylekkhans do not surrender,” Tykkleht said again. “Your assessment of the danger your attack may pose to my men is completely wrong-headed. Here in my employ is the Magician Raettonus—why should I fear you?”
“Ah, yes, the Magician Raettonus,” said Diahsis. He grinned and turned to look at Raettonus. “Even in Tahlehsohr they tell stories about you. I must admit you are…shorter than I expected. More handsome, as well. Tell me, Magician, how much does Zylekkha mean to you?”
Tykkleht gave Raettonus a desperate look. With his eyes, he begged the man to tell a lie. Raettonus look from him back to General Diahsis’ smiling face. “Not much,” he said coolly.