“Yehuda Leib, we wish to offer you a bargain. I am sure that you saw the scale of our army as you came into the castrum this evening. There is more strength here than it is practical to deploy under a single commander, and accordingly, it is our pleasure to offer you the deferred commission of field marshal general of the Army of the Dead, reporting directly to Lord High General Dumah.”

Field marshal general? That was as high a rank as anyone could have without being the lord high general himself.

“With respect,” said Yehuda Leib, “surely there are soldiers in your army better qualified than me.”

“Of course there are,” said Behemoth. “But the lord high general is of the opinion that excellence in command relies upon change and adaptation—faculties unavailable to the dead. He wishes his field marshal general to be possessed of both the assets and the liabilities of mortality.

“For this reason, if you accept our commission, we will exploit our contacts and resources in the armies of the living in order to make you more qualified than any other living man of war. You will serve an apprenticeship of some thirty years’ length, during which time we will arrange to move you from army to army, commission to commission, so that you may have the opportunity to study with the greatest commanders now living. It will be our pleasure during the term of your apprenticeship to supply your every want as only those in our position are able—with the finest food, clothing, housing, horseflesh, men, and women you could possibly desire. At the end of this period of apprenticeship, you shall return to this castrum and take command of one-half of the forces of the Army of the Dead, which will be yours to organize and deploy as you see fit, in accordance with the orders of the lord high general.

“You shall have the greatest military career in history. The lord high general has already begun to lay plans for the campaigns the two of you shall execute together, and, having seen only the smallest portion of them, I must say that in accepting this commission, you shall make a legend of yourself.”

Slowly, Dumah shifted his hulking mass and raised himself up to stand over Yehuda Leib.

“What do you say?” said Behemoth. “Will you pledge your allegiance to the Army of the Dead?”

Yehuda Leib’s heart was racing. This was, of course, an incredibly tempting offer.

But if his time with Mammon had taught him anything, it was that there was nothing so dangerous as a tempting offer.

“Boy,” said Behemoth behind him. “The lord high general is not accustomed to waiting.”

With a long sigh, Yehuda Leib finally lowered himself slowly onto the low stool before Dumah. “I wonder, Behemoth,” he said, “if I might have a word with the lord high general alone.”