Dramir`s troops traveled to Nosirin in a long and winding train of infantry and wagons. Jeremiah, Delilah and Bruno rolled through the fields and forests in their comfortable carriage. Allison rode among the soldiers on horseback, having taken up her former role as captain for the mission. The troops were young and carried their spears awkwardly.

　　Allison guided her horse alongside the party`s carriage. "Almost all fresh recruits, from what I`ve been able to tell. I don`t know what Valen`s expecting from you, Jay, but Dramir didn`t exactly send a seasoned force to help deal with this problem."

　　Jeremiah swallowed as Allison rode away. Delilah patted his knee. "Maybe it`s a good thing," she said. "You`re here to prove your value, after all. After a mission this high profile, they`ll have to release you from your sentence!"

　　"Yeah," Jeremiah said. Unless I`m killed first.

　　The city of Nosirin appeared on the horizon after the tenth day. It was squat and gray, a utilitarian city where decoration was seen as snobbery and the quality of food was measured in amount. Blending in with the foothills of the mountains, Nosirin was utterly bland after the grandeur of Dramir. Its wall stood just three men high and, despite the ballista bristling between the crenellations, looked like an afterthought.

　　Jeremiah expected to feel some sense of homecoming upon passing through the city gates—after all, Nosirin had been the nearest city for most of his life. But all he felt was trepidation, a sense that the noose around his neck was tightening even as he struggled to free himself.

　　Horns echoed off the mountains, announcing their arrival. The city was quiet as they rolled through cobbled streets, watched only by a few women and children.

　　"Where is everyone?" Jeremiah asked.

　　"Mostly dead." Bruno said, as casually as if they had all gone to the tavern. "In times of war, bodies are currency to be spent, and Nosirin has been generous. Wait till we get to the wealthier neighborhoods, then you`ll see more people."

　　He was right. As they neared Nosirin`s central fortress (in no way could it be called a palace), there were more gentry about, speaking on corners or walking with their families as if the fighting that threatened their very walls were nothing but a distant rumor. It would be handled by others, said their casual manner.

　　The fortress itself was surrounded by an echo of the four-sided city wall. This inner wall stood ten feet high and was inset with a metal gate in each cardinal direction, just like its larger counterpart. Their carriage followed the officers` wagons through the gate south and into a whirlwind of chaos.

　　A single Nosirin soldier stood at attention among the background scramble. Colonel Valen jumped out of his carriage. "Cadet! Report!"

　　The dwarf, dressed in the charcoal gray of Nosirin`s soldiers, snapped a salute and shouted back. "Sir! The tribes are making their move!" His breath caught a little. "By gods, they`re almost right on top of us. The whole damn army was hidden just out of sight!"

　　"Attacking? Now?" Delilah spluttered. "But—but—we`ve been marching for days, we have thousands of men that need rest and more importantly, to be reorganized!" She sounded indignant, as though some protocol of war had been disregarded.

　　"Clever bastards," agreed Allison. "We have to hold them at the walls."

　　"Why didn`t they attack us earlier, in the open?" Jeremiah asked, trying to focus on anything besides the fear rising in his chest.

　　"They would`ve been stuck between us and Nosirin, and we`d have seen them coming. They`re making the best of the hand they`ve been dealt." She turned her horse back towards the gate.

　　"Hang on, where are you going?" Jeremiah asked.

　　"I`m a field commander. I`m going to help command the field. Be safe!"

　　"Always the soldier with you!" Bruno called.

　　"Allday every day!" Allison said with a wink. She reared her horse and rode to rejoin the troops still streaming into the city.

　　Jeremiah stared after her, suddenly certain he`d never see her again. Colonel Valen`s rough voice brought him back to the moment. "Mr. Thorn! Please focus. You and your people need to come with me."

　　They hurried down austere corridors, dodging as men and women rushed past from either direction, shouting orders and information like hawkers at the market, and every deal was critical. Twice Jeremiah was nearly taken off his feet by a body in armor, appearing and disappearing in the blink of an eye.

　　Colonel Valen led them to the next floor, where the chaos ebbed and the rank insignias of those passing grew more complex. They entered a war room, a high-ceilinged circular chamber bustling with constant yet precise activity, like a well-maintained clockwork. The main wheel at its center was an exacting diorama of the city of Nosirin. Every alley and street was meticulously catalogued, the four gates of the city walls crafted with tiny mobile portcullis and drawbridges. A dwarf wearing steel armor and a thin crown of silver moved tiny figurines around the model, representing archers, cavalry and more. With each movement, a messenger sprinted from the room to relay the information. As Jeremiah watched, a Nosirin cadet deposited a large group of figures in Dramir`s colors beside the model city`s wall. The dwarf gripped them by the handful and dropped them unceremoniously at the north gate.

　　"King Growlack," said Colonel Valen, raising his voice over the din of activity. "I have brought the necromancer. With your permission, he will begin at once."

　　King Growlack glanced at Jeremiah. His eyes were flinty chips, sharp and almost colorless. His neatly combed beard was grayed and frayed at the ends like a worn broom. King Growlack waved to a servant, who produced a box containing more figurines— tiny skeletons on circular stands. The king seized a fistful and began placing them across the tops of the city wall. Half wound up on the north wall, most of the rest were divided between the west and east. A scant few stood to the south.

　　"Your Majesty," Jeremiah said, "if this battle is really as imminent as it seems to be, I need to begin resurrections as quickly as possible. It will take time to raise as many as we need."The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

　　The king only stared at his map and waved a dismissive hand as he repositioned some of the figurines. With each adjustment, a messenger ran from the room.

　　"This way, Mr. Thorn." Colonel Valen waved for him to follow, but Delilah lingered.

　　"Your Majesty," she said to King Growlack with a bow, "my name is Lady Fortune. I am a master alchemist and physician. I would be honored to serve in defense of your kingdom."

　　The king regarded her coldly. "Can you fight?" His voice grated like gravel.

　　"Yes sir."

　　The king glanced to a gnome standing so still at the king`s side that Jeremiah hadn`t noticed him. Withered and ancient, the gnome took a peg of wood and small knife and began to carve. In just a few turns of the blade he produced a small figurine approximating Delilah. The king set the figure among a group of medics near the south gate`s corridor into the city.

　　"Right this way, my lady!" said a messenger.

　　"Delilah, what are you doing?" Bruno asked.

　　"The best I can. Keep Jay safe."

　　Jeremiah felt another flash of fear as Delilah disappeared. He swallowed and followed Bruno and Colonel Valen into the hall.

　　Colonel Valen led them through less traveled corridors to a narrow spiral staircase. They hurried downward, the air growing chilly as torches replaced sunlight. Soon the hubbub of the fortress faded, replaced only by their footsteps echoing on stone.

　　"They`re attacking sooner then we`d expected," said Colonel Valen as they descended. "Our scouts had them further in the mountains but apparently, they`ve covered ground much faster than we thought possible. Inconvenient, but it doesn`t change much. We`ve got a hardened defensive position."

　　"How weird that they`d just throw themselves against a wall with no reason or plan," Bruno said.

　　"Savage tribes have a history of misunderstanding the objectives of siege warfare," Colonel Valen said, either not hearing Bruno`s sarcasm or choosing to ignore it.

　　Jeremiah and Bruno exchanged a look. Clearly King Hector`s warning had faded from Colonel Valen`s concerns.

　　The staircase delivered them to a long hallway ending in a set of splintering double doors. Jeremiah recalled the tunnels they had explored in the goblin warren. He thought he already knew what was behind those doors.

　　Colonel Valen turned to Jeremiah with a proud smile. "I think you`ll be most impressed with our preparations." He pushed open the doors.

　　The smell hit them all at once. Decay.

　　Bruno recoiled and Colonel Valen covered his mouth with a sleeve, but the scent was nostalgic to Jeremiah. The space was enormous, rivaling the footprint of the entire fortress, and was filled with bodies, stacked in rows like cordwood. Hundreds, maybe thousands of bodies. There were dusty skeletons exhumed from ancient graves, delicate husks of the elderly, young soldiers whose uniforms still sticky with blood. Jeremiah saw men and women of all ages and races in varying states of decay. He doubted there was an interred body anywhere else in the city.

　　"You&certainly have quite the collection," Bruno said as they walked one of the rows. "Can`t help but notice a few rope burns." He tapped Jeremiah`s shoulder and pointed out a body wearing a collar of bruised skin like a black lace. The body`s tongue protruded, also swollen and black.

　　Colonel Valen`s face remained neutral. "Gentlemen, Nosirin is not a city that suffers criminals lightly. When they heard a necromancer needed bodies to defend the city, King Growlack made it his business to obtain as many as possible. The idea that men could serve the city in death better than they had in life appealed to him so much his aides say he was damn near delighted."

　　"You`re telling me he killed his own people to make more bodies for me to raise?" Jeremiah wanted to feel horrified, but after seeing King Growlack tossing figurines by the fistful, the revelation was not truly surprising.

　　"I am telling you that very thing. It wasn`t long ago that exile into the mountains was the punishment of choice in Nosirin, which is considered a death sentence in its own right."

　　Bruno rolled his eyes. "I wonder how that will factor into the impending attack."

　　"We have accounted for the potential for enemy familiarity with Nosirin! They won`t get past the walls, so it doesn`t matter." He stiffened with this last accusation but didn`t quite meet Jeremiah`s gaze. "Now, in case you missed the happenings upstairs, we`re in a hurry. Mr. Thorn, do you need anything else?"

　　"Just time."

　　"There is little to be spared. At the far end of this chamber is a flight of stairs that leads to the main boulevard of the city. Weapons have been placed alongside the door for the undead to use. There are men waiting to direct them. That will work, yes?"

　　"If the men just prod and push them along, yes."

　　"Good. Return upstairs when you`ve finished."

　　Colonel Valen left. Jeremiah began casting while Bruno paced around the gruesome display. "Think you`ll be able to animate all of these?" Bruno asked, looking into the face of an old woman, her head sticking out between larger half-orc and bloated gnome.

　　"There`s way more than I can raise all at once, but with enough time I can rest and raise more. As for keeping track of them all&" He looked out over the rows of bodies and felt his excitement building. "I think I`ve got this."

　　Jeremiah raised corpse after corpse. Seeing the soldiers marching in formation from Dramir had inspired him. He grouped the skeletons and zombies separately and maintained four distinct areas of his mind to represent the four city walls. The south wall would be mostly skeletons, as they might need to redeploy quickly as reinforcements. The north wall was mostly zombies, and the east and west walls would be evenly split.

　　He finished the first hundred bodies in the time it took Bruno to patrol the room twice. He sighed at frustration, already feeling a bit crowded. He had stacked the bubbles four deep, his previous limit.

　　"If I can fit just one more&" mumbled Jeremiah. No sooner had he thought it then a fifth bubble snapped inside a stack. It was easy. It was very easy. "Woah," Jeremiah breathed. A sixth, a seventh, an eight. The bubble resisted now, try as he might Jeremiah couldn`t force any more into the stack. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and pulled Gus from his pocket. "Now`s not the time for good enough`, is it buddy?" Gus let out a low croak and protruded his spines.

　　With a monumental effort, Jeremiah added a ninth bubble to the stack. Then, elated and inspired, he added a tenth. "Good job buddy," he said to Gus. There was no more room for effort, the bubbles could not be budged, but Jeremiah`s pride in his improvement swelled.

　　The newly animate forms stood in three-by-three squares, with a tenth leader` at the front. Jeremiah paused and considered the number of bodies remaining.

　　"More than you thought?" Bruno asked.

　　"Yes, but&but it`s okay." It was true. It was as though the space in his mind had expanded since the bandit camp. He wondered how many he`d be able to command now. Then he thought of Flusoh`s endless field of wheat and realized that, although he was still orders of magnitude away from that display, he was closer today than he had ever been.

　　He ordered the first group to arm themselves and sent them out in formation. They pulled from the nearly endless supply of spears that had been haphazardly stacked like cheap firewood

　　March.

　　They trudged into the dark corridor, and Jeremiah set about creating more.

　　Jeremiah was finishing up the two hundredth undead and he felt&fine. His attention was wandering a bit between castings, but nothing like back in Dunsimmon`s stable. He was eager to test his limits.

　　Three hundred undead. Bruno was watching him with some concern.

　　Four hundred. Jeremiah`s focus was finally wavering.

　　Five hundred. His mind was starting to feel crowded.

　　After six hundred undead, he sat cross-legged on the floor and held his head in his hands. He was nearing the limits of his capacity and endurance. But he had created more undead than he had ever dreamed of raising himself.

　　"You, uh, seem to have improved a bit," said Bruno, his eyebrow raised. About half of the bodies in the massive room had been depleted.

　　"Yeah. Made a bunch. I can feel them walking, first ones are where they need to be. I can feel the wind on them, they`re up high. On the walls, I think. Others are still walking. No trouble though. People know they`re coming."

　　Bruno helped him to his feet. "Well, I think you`ve done more than enough. Let`s get you upstairs and let those kindly gentlemen know you`re done."