“I don’t need to imagine it. He brought two Crypt Lords and a Draug to life. I say—you’re not thinking clearly.”

“I’m not? Grishen, you know what can occur!”

“I do. But if we run, he will just overtake us. You think we can move an entire province’s worth of people to my lands or Ovela? The undead don’t rest. They’ll catch us, even if we had wagons for every person.

Which we do not.”

Grishen regarded Cara. Then Seraphel, Ser Dalimont, his arm in a sling, and Lady Risel. All of them focused on the [Duchess].

“What do we do?”

“We hold this ground.”

The [Duchess] said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Everyone stared at her. Grishen tsked.

“You idiots. Think! The [Necromancer] is one man. And he is not Az’kerash, who brought down a kingdom and waged war for a century. This idiot found the Tomb of Afiele, free of safeguards because some idiot girl broke them—”

She glared at Cara. The young woman flinched.

“I didn’t know. I was trapped inside—”

“Hah. I don’t know how that would be possible. No one can teleport in or out. An [Archmage] sealed that tomb, back when that meant something. It shouldn’t have been possible to break it.”

“From the outside.”

Princess Seraphel looked curiously at Cara. Grishen hesitated, and then gave a grudging nod.

“There’s not time to ask why. But suffice it to say that Az’kerash would have been able to raise every corpse in that tomb and bring an army the likes of which Terandria has never seen if he had access to it.

What did this worthless fool do? He animated some skeletons, ghouls, and two Crypt Lords and a Draug.

That’s all. Az’kerash? He could have summoned a Bone Giant in half an hour. Believe me, I lived through the days when he terrorized Terandria.”

Lantal saw what Grishen was saying. But he couldn’t help but feel the fear any child of Noelictus felt at the word [Necromancer]. Az’kerash was a children’s story. He was dead—he had died on Izril in the Second Antinium War. But…

“What if he brings more Draug? Or more Crypt Lords? A dozen?”

“Let him. We have better odds holding the walls here. I say we dig down, fortify. We can hold off the undead even if he brings a hundred Draug. We have enough people to cover every inch of wall. He can’t animate enough undead to overwhelm us until help arrives. Dead gods, Lantal, straighten up! Liscor held off the Necromancer for ages and they’re damned Drakes!”

She snapped at the [Lord], and he straightened, ashamed. He had been overwhelmed by the threat.

Now—he felt clearer.