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“You should go.” Cletus said. “We are doing quite well. We’ll call if there are any cases ... if we need you.”

Rakkal didn’t waste time with an apology; he didn’t do those. “Tell me your difficulties.”

“Well, I taught one of our medics to brew healing potions without magic, and now the rest of the family wants to learn. But they don’t want to do it as a family...”

He stomped a hoof. “Your physical difficulties.” he demanded.

“He means your wounds.” Rasheel said.

“I should be ready to travel in eight days.” I said. I listed my severe injuries, including my remaining infections (yes, I still had two of them).

“When will you be at full health?” he asked.

“Around the start of May.” I said.

.....

“I cannot appear weak.” he said. “I must triumph or die.”

A part of Aegean culture. Return with your shield or on it; as you have seen, some of our sub-cultures take it more seriously than others.

He sighed. “For this reason, I cannot seek peace. Therefore, you shall seem weak for me. You shall seek peace.”

“What of Hortiluk?”

“I’ve sent him back to his city in disgrace; he will never again hold authority over troops. I have appointed Sir Blackwood as his military commander, over his vociferous objections.”

“I’m not familiar with him, but his name...? He’s from Whitehill? A human?”

Rakkal nodded.

“He won’t be happy there.” I said.

“I don’t care if he’s happy.” Rakkal waved a hand. “I care that he’s loyal, and serves as a check on what seem to be constant riots. And that he hates Hortiluk with a fiery passion, and has the authority to take the military away from him.”

Laughing gods. I did not envy Sir Blackwood, nor did I give good odds for his survival.

I cleared my throat. “I imagine there are terms.” I said. “Things which we must have, or cannot give?”

He listed them, sometimes with reminders by Rasheel.

“Elder brother, they will not agree to all of those terms.”

“Those are my minimum terms.” he said. “Here are some ones you can throw out during discussions and then give up on.

I scratched at the back of my pants, where the tab of bony flesh that would eventually grow back into my tail was. “And the centaurs have sent back the heart of the last diplomat you sent with these demands?”

“You are to be the first.”

“No, elder brother.” I said. “These terms cannot be achieved by words and contracts. If you wish to enforce such heavy demands, force such a change of culture, you need to break their forces, and gain an unconditional surrender.”

He sighed, rolled his shoulders back, seemed to loom a little larger in the room. “Excellent. I had hoped you would reach agreement with my position. Rasheel, the map, the pieces. Show my little brother what we think we know.”

As if I had thought our diplomatic posture was untenable! We had eight forts, laid out in nothing that resembled the eight points of a compass. Oh, each fort was properly positioned, on a rise by a river for fresh water. Each had fertile lands, and thus ready source of food when not under siege.

And those happened, sieges. If you could call them that when they lasted just long enough for our forces to arrive, and then turned to vapor and rolled away.

The hostile tribes struck inside the area of those forts, taking supplies, removing small units, and generally reminding us we just didn’t belong there, in centaur lands. Some tribes only struck when they could kill all of us, and bury the hearts afterward, like a hunt of people. The truly sinister ones made sure that the survivors could reach a nearby fort, all of them wounded, some of them maimed.

“I am preparing” Rakkal said, “to dispatch troops to the forts here, here, and here. With proper patrolling, we can secure these areas.”

“We will need to ensure they don’t learn of that until it is accomplished.” I said. “That is roughly three fourths of our forces.”

“Oh, not at all. In fact, I’ve made certain our enemies have ample opportunity to learn exactly how weak our core fortress, here, will become.”

I blinked. “They aren’t stupid, elder brother. They will lay siege to us here at the core, with escape routes planned for...”

“Yes.” he said. “Through areas supposedly controlled by our allies. If they escape, we know one of our allies we can no longer trust, track them, and eliminate them.”

“Or,” I said, “They could end up just overpowered by sheer numbers.”

“Uma insisted on taking care of that.”

I didn’t prompt him beyond that, having to run to the latrine pit at that time.

Manahuru said.

When I returned to the room, there was very little I could contribute in the way of land lore; Clan Cloverhoof lived far to the southwest of the conflict region, and was technically neutral, though I had no doubt that food and medicines flowed outward from the forest, if not weapons as well, and I would not be surprised to learn that a lot of wounded centaurs were “visiting” their relatives in neutral tribes.

I did offer my opinion on the walls, though.

“We won’t need the walls.” he replied. “I plan to throw open the gates.”

“A Sagitarius is skilled with spear and bow.” I said. “The arrows...”

He slammed a fist into the table. “A wall of wind shall be erected across the open gate.” he said. “They will need to come inside to engage us.”

I massaged my lower jaw with my knuckles. “Why would they? Inside the fortress walls would be a kill zone for them.”

“I shall be visible in the courtyard, here. Let us see how badly they want me dead.”

Rakkal wasn’t just a hero. I had seen him take apart a force of no less than four champions, led by two heroes. It may actually have been six heroes, but if so, that was even more terrifying. “If they can’t surround you, they must know how unlikely such a kill is.”

“Every time I meet them in the field, they attack me with volleys of arrows. How long will it be before enough of them score criticals all at the same time? No, I will open the gates, and either they shall attack me, or not.”

“How many centaurs do we normally slay for every soldier we lose?” I asked.

“One of them for every three of four soldiers, more in humans, less in veterans.”

The technical term for that is that they were winning the war of attrition. They had more soldiers, and were losing fewer than we were.

“And this ratio has been going on for three years?” I asked.

“Of course not, it used to be six for one.” He said. “It helped to trim back those hobgoblins loyal to Hortiluk, but otherwise was just a great waste of time.”

“And lives.” I said. “The bulk of our veterans are here?”

“All of our veterans are here.” Rasheel said. “And four of ten soldiers remaining in the standing army.”

“That...” I didn’t even try to say the rest, taking in a deep breath before saying, “So it is likely none of us are leaving these plains alive.”

“You seem to survive, younger brother. As do I, I suspect for similar reasons. Have you reached level ten yet?”

“It isn’t everything I had expected.” I said.

“I thought as much. I hear you now host a disease spirit?”

“I’m not a plague walker, if that’s what you worry about. But yes, if we can get the enemy here, and keep their shamans distracted, they will leave here with a disease or two.”

“Only two?”

“Centaurs have a higher Might limit than humans. We should prepare for them to resist three of every four diseases that Manahuru can throw at them.”

He nodded. “I see. So nothing that will likely rip across the plains, harrowing our enemies.”

“That would be the exception, rather than the norm.” I said.

“Did you develop ANY useful powers or abilities down south?”

“My dream abilities, telepathic communication, the basics of...”

He snorted. “Anything that would help on the battlefield?”

I shrugged. “My Might is up, and with it my health bar. Most of my statistics have increased by a point, and my combat experience has increased quite a bit.”

“And your abilities? Do you have third level combat? Second?”

“No.” I said. “My divisor is...”

“I am saddened, younger brother. Get out. Before I end your useless life.”

There was one in my lower intestine, which induced diarrhea, and a skin infection unique to scaled beasts that (so far as I know) had no connection to Manahuru. Since it was resistant to magical tapping, my spring shedding was coming up anyway, and I was back on mostly normal rations with a heavy dose of cauliflower, broccoli, and other calcium heavy plants, I had decided to just itch for two weeks or so.