“We’re all outsiders here,” I began. “Especially me. I look around this room, and I see faces from different corners of the world. Even you, Anton. You came from somewhere else. You built this place and now someone wants to take it from you.”
“That’s right,” Anton nodded.
“Everyone in this room has lost something,” I went on. “Friends or brothers. Family.” I glanced at Sariyah. “Sons.” I looked around the room at all the diverse faces. “I barely knew the Bitter Kingdoms before I came here. I was warned not to come. A very good and wise friend of mine tried to stop me.”
Inside me I felt a little tremor from Malator. No gloating. Just sadness.
“Pride’s my downfall, you see. It always has been. Some of you think I’m blessed. I’ve not found a thing yet that can kill me. The spirit inside my sword tells me I have no soul any more, and I know he’s right because I can’t feel it. The only thing I feel now is the need for revenge.”
“Then let that be enough,” said Kiryk’s man Lenhart. “It’s enough for me. It’s enough for us all.”
Chuluun said, “In Zura we know of Diriel. We know he will come one day for our lands. So my brothers and I claim vengeance against his intentions.” He and Nalinbaatar both nodded. “It is enough for us, too.”
They all nodded, in fact. Every man around the table, so many of them strangers to me. Sariyah kicked out my chair for me.
“Sit, Lukien,” he offered.
I took my seat. “Marilius?”
Marilius stood, clearing his throat and taming his nerves. He had a riding crop in his hand that he used to point at the map. All heads turned toward him anxiously. Anton shifted aside a bit, giving his man room.
“Diriel’s army is camped in a place called the Sklar Valley,” said Marilius. He made a circle around the valley with his riding crop, in an area just to the north and west of Isowon. “That’s barely two miles from here, and between Isowon and Sklar there’s nothing but flat ground. It’s barren. Mostly sand. Some trees and brush, but no hills, no caves. Nowhere for them to hide.”
“Flat ground is good,” considered Chuluun. “Good for horses.”
“That’s our one advantage,” said Marilius. “They have horses, but not as many as we do.”
“That’s because they ate them all,” I said.
“And because I brought in as many as I could,” said Anton. “Horses are good business around here.”
“They don’t expect us to come after them,” continued Marilius. “They expect us to hold up here in Isowon.”
“We’re not doing that,” said Anton quickly. He looked around the table where the teams I’d brought to the fight were gathered. “I’ve already explained this to my men. There won’t be a siege of Isowon. I won’t have it. There’ll either be a victory or a massacre.”
“We signed up for either,” said Kiryk. “My Drinmen came to fight, not hide. We’re ready to go right now.”
“Good,” said Marilius, “because I only bought us a bit of time. A day and a half ago I rode out to see Diriel. That was at your request, Lukien. I gave him your message.”
The faces around the table looked puzzled. “Go on,” I told Marilius.
Marilius parried nicely. “I saw his camp, and I saw how strong they are. He’s cocky, and he’s out of his mind. He has no intention of backing away.”
“Tell them what Diriel said to you,” urged Anton. “Tell them word for word.”
Marilius hesitated. “He said everyone of us would be disemboweled. Even the children, he said.”
The girl near me dropped her pitcher. The crystal shattered into bits. She looked down at what she’d done and almost fainted. Two more of Anton’s servants rushed to help her.
“Go, get her out of here,” said Anton. He flicked his wrist at all his servants. “All of you, get out.”
Leaving the broken glass and wine strewn across the floor, the servants fled the chamber. But not a man around the table flinched at Diriel’s threat.
“We’ll feed him his own intestines,” said Chuluun. “To threaten little ones. .”
“He’s not lying,” said Kiryk. “We’ve already seen his handiwork.”
“Numbers, Marilius.” I leaned forward. “What’s he got?”
“Two-thousand,” he estimated. “Maybe twenty-five hundred. Maybe a bit more.”
“And us?”
“A thousand counting everything. A bit less probably. That’s a few hundred mercenaries, a few hundred Drinmen, men from here in Isowon, some men from Kasse. .”
“How many from Zura?” asked Chuluun anxiously.
Marilius replied, “Ninety or so. That’s just a guess.”
Chuluun translated the news for his brother, and the two of them shared a grimace. “There would be more if there was more time,” said Chuluun. “They will come. But by then. .”
“Ninety is enough,” I announced loudly. “Ninety Zuran horsemen are worth a thousand Akyren goat fuckers. Kiryk, you were right. Diriel lied to me about his numbers. So what? We all knew we’d be outnumbered.”
“How many legionnaires?” asked a helmeted merc.
Marilius shrugged. “I don’t know. I couldn’t tell, and Diriel wouldn’t say. But he’s got his conscripts too. And he’s got dogs.”
“Dogs?” said Lenhart. “They didn’t use dogs in Drin.”
“Well, they have them now,” said Marilius. “Scores of them, chained up and starved mad.”
“They’ll send those dogs in first,” guessed Jaracz. He spoke softly, as if talking only to his king. “Which is why you’ll need to stay in the rear, Kiryk.”
“No,” said Kiryk. “I’m a Silver Dragon. I lead tomorrow.” He turned to look at me. “The battle starts tomorrow, Lukien, yes? We’re all ready.”
I didn’t know how to answer, so I looked to Marilius. “Are we ready, Marilius?”
Marilius put down his riding crop. “Anton has spent everything he has to keep his men paid. The men at this table and the others that follow them aren’t going to run. Yes, I think we’re ready.”
“Anton?” I looked at him across the table. “It’s your city. I’ll be in charge of the battle but you’re Isowon’s leader. Tomorrow?”
“You were the last piece of the puzzle, Lukien,” said Anton. He mustered a smile on his golden face. “If this doesn’t work I’ll be ruined.”
“You’ll be dead!” joked Lenhart.
The room broke with laughter. Only Sariyah, ever stone-faced, didn’t grin.
“Anton?” I looked at him from across the table. “It’s your decision.”
He couldn’t hide his fear, but he didn’t hesitate either. “Tomorrow we make war,” he said. “Unless the Akyrens attack before then.”
“They won’t,” I said. “Diriel wants his monster, and only I can give it to him. I still have time, and Diriel will honor our bargain.”
Anton nodded. “Tomorrow, then.”
I pushed back my chair and stood. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow!” cried the men, all of them standing to echo me.
“Tomorrow,” said Sulimer, and took his big axe and smashed it flat side against the table. The table bounced, shattering glasses and spilling food and wine. “Remember your axes,” he chided. “Remember to take their heads!”
“And remember that Diriel’s head is mine,” said Kiryk.
Anton said, “I think I should have that trophy for my own.”
“Kiryk has claimed it, Anton,” I called. “But if you want, I can cut off his balls for you.”
The men laughed again, even Anton, and raised the remaining glasses. Only Sariyah remained seated. I didn’t know how many of the men knew what had happened to him, or to his son Asadel. The only one I’d told was Marilius, who took pity on Sariyah from across the chamber, lowering his glass and meeting Sariyah’s sad gaze with encouragement. I put my hand on Sariyah’s shoulder and bending to his ear said, “We carry your wounds inside us, my friend.”
Sariyah nodded, then stood, then pounded a fist on the table as heavily as Sulimer’s axe. “Listen to me, all of you,” he boomed. “My son Asadel is out there with Diriel. Taken from me. If you see him tomorrow on the battlefield, spare him.” He gazed into every face. “I beg you to see he is not your enemy. But if he has lost his soul-if now he’s a mindless one-then I beg you to destroy him.”