Numar began with slaughtered sheep, dead at least two or three days. His hurling arms couldn’t be as accurate with the beasts as they had been with the boulders, but they didn’t have to be. They needed only to clear the walls. In the heat of Elined’s turn, with the remains already decaying, the stench was unbearable. Almost as soon as this newest atrocity began, Tebeo ordered his men to douse the carcasses with oil and set them afire, but even after they carried out his orders, the fetor of rot and burning flesh lingered over all of Dantrielle.
The following day, both the Solkarans and the army of Rassor used dead cattle. Not that it mattered what type of animal dropped into the lanes of the city or the castle wards. Tebeo could hardly step onto the walls of his fortress without feeling his stomach heave. Everywhere he looked, small fires burned, sending foul smoke into the air. He hadn’t heard of anyone in his city taking ill because of the animal carcasses, but still his people suffered.
That night, as the soldiers at the hurling arms returned to the flaming stones, interspersing an occasional animal corpse, a party of Solkaran soldiers tried to gain entry to the castle through one of the sally ports. Tebeo still bore a scar on his side from his fight with the last Solkarans to make the attempt. This time, the duke’s men were prepared for the attack and drove the party off, killing more than half of them. But even this victory did little to raise the spirits of Tebeo’s army.
Yet as much as those within the city and castle suffered for the siege, the duke knew that those who lived in his dukedom beyond the protection of his walls endured far worse. Numar might have been intent on winning the favor of Dantrielle’s people, of turning them against their duke, but that wouldn’t stop him from plundering the farms and villages in the Dantrielle countryside for food and water. No doubt his men had quartered themselves in the homes of defenseless farmers as they approached the castle, and who knew what else they had done. Soldiers marching to war had been known to make sport of violating their enemies’ wives and daughters. With all the horrors Numar’s army had visited on them thus far, why should Tebeo expect that these men would be any different? “A war among nobles,” it was often said, “bloodied all.”
Tebeo had yet to name a new master of arms to replace Bausef. Instead he relied on three of the armsmaster’s most trusted captains, and on the eleventh night of the siege, for the first time, two of them raised the prospect of discussing terms of surrender with the regent. The duke and his captains were on the ramparts, watching for the next assault from Numar’s men. Tebeo wasn’t certain how to respond to their suggestion, but the third captain was appalled.
“You don’t really mean that,” he said. “The siege isn’t going well, but to consider surrender so soon. .”
“I’ve never seen the spirit of these men so low. They already feel that we’ve lost. They have since the master of arms died.”
“And,” added the second man, “we’ve inflicted almost no losses on Numar’s army.”
“Our losses haven’t been very high either. We lost the armsmaster’s party, but they’ve had men killed on raids as well. We still outnumber them.”
“For how long? I’ve heard men talk of desertion, and though I don’t think many of them are ready to go that far, it will come to that before too long.”
“What would you hope to gain through surrender?” Tebeo asked.
The third captain stared at him. “My lord-”
The duke raised a hand, silencing him. “You understand that all four of us would be executed, and most likely my sons as well.”
“Yes, my lord,” said the first man, looking away. “Forgive me.”
“I wasn’t trying to silence you, Captain. I really want to know what might be gained. Do you think that the regent would spare the rest of the men?”
“Yes, my lord. He needs soldiers to fight the Eibitharians. He might be so desperate for them that he would even spare the four of us. If you pledge yourself to his cause, you might be able to end all this.”
Tebeo gave a grim smile. “That I don’t believe. You’ve seen what he’s done, the lengths to which he’s gone to break our will. Are these really the actions of a man inclined to such mercy?”
“No, my lord, they’re not,” the third captain said, glaring at his two comrades, torch fire gleaming in his dark eyes. “You can’t surrender, my lord. Not yet. We’re still waiting for Orvinti, Kelt, and the others. Their arrival might very well break this siege. We should at least wait for them.”
“How are our stores?”
Even the third man faltered. “They run low, my lord.”
“How low?”
“They may not last to the end of the next waxing.”
“They won’t,” the first man said, sounding so certain that Tebeo found himself questioning the man’s loyalty.
The duke nodded. “Well, you’ve given me much to consider Since we’re not yet done with the waning, I assume we have at least a half turn’s provisions left.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Good. For now, we’ll keep rations as they are. I’ve no desire to start a panic. We’ll speak of this again. For now, return to your posts.”
The three men bowed, and the two who advocated surrender moved off, leaving Tebeo alone with the third captain. His name was Gabrys DinTavo. He had come to Dantrielle with Bausef and had long been the armsmaster’s favorite among all his captains. That alone made him Bausef’s most likely successor in the duke’s eyes.
“They’ll say that I argued as I did to curry favor with you,” the man said, watching the other two captains walk off. “They’ll say that I tell you what you want to hear so that you’ll choose me as your next master of arms.”
“Is that true?”
Gabrys turned sharply. “No, my lord!”
“Then why should you care what they say?”
“I don’t suppose I should, my lord.”
“I don’t want to surrender, Captain. But neither do I wish to see all these men massacred.”
“Of course not, my lord.”
“If it comes to that choice, you know what I’ll do.”
He nodded. “Yes, I do.”
The duke gazed down at the Solkaran camp, awaiting the next assault. “Bausef thought me too soft to be an effective leader in times of war. I expect you see me much the same way.”
The captain started to reply, but Tebeo shook his head. “It’s all right. Bausef knew me better than I know myself. I tried to prove him wrong that night when Numar first started to use his hurling arms, and I ended up sending him to his death. Since then I’ve vowed to follow my instincts rather than be something I’m not. Thus when it comes to questions of warfare, I have no choice but to rely on your counsel, and that of the others.”
“I understand, my lord.”
“Obviously you don’t think I should surrender. So what would you have me do?”
Before Gabrys could answer, the duke heard a light footfall behind him. Turning, he saw Evanthya step out of the tower stairway. She stopped when she saw Tebeo and the captain.
“Forgive me, my lord. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re not interrupting, First Minister. Please join us.”
He glanced at the captain, only to find the man glowering at Evanthya. It often seemed, particularly in these times, that warriors viewed the Qirsi with even more distrust than did nobles. Bausef had been an exception-he had never struck the duke as having much feeling for Evanthya, or the other ministers, one way or another. But apparently Gabrys did.
“She’s served me loyally for many years, Captain. I have as much faith in her and her counsel as I do in any soldier who’s ever served me, including the master of arms.”
The man’s mouth twitched, but he nodded. “Yes, my lord.”
“Perhaps I should go,” the minister said, her pale skin looking sallow in the glow of the torches and ward fires.