6 VI

King Thyrn rode over the fallen gate of Kurbrom in a chariot. The square beyond was secure; most of the city was, by now.

The slaves had been sent on as wide a front as possible to spread out the defenders, but Thyrn's true attack came in three columns. He had lead the center, taking the west gate with the battering ram/siege tower hybrid. To the south, on Thyrn's right flank, King Farn of Bruston—the first dwarf polis Thyrn had subjugated—had assaulted the particurly large breach the underminers had opened, while the force across the river had assaulted one of the bridges, using axes and an uncovered ram to break down the gate.

Farn had made his breakthrough first, though many slaves had already gotten through or over the wall. Thyrn's column broke down the gate, though only made a breakthrough when Farn's force hit the defenders from the side. The bridged gate to the north fell last, around noon, and after that Komn had withdrawn his warriors to the ziggurat overlooking the city's agora.

Farn, in a chariot of his own, made a shallow bow as Thyrn approached.

"I had almost hoped you wouldn't be able to take a city by force," Farn said. "My only consolation this past year has been that you got my people to rise against me. I told myself in a pitched battle, I could have beaten you."

"And perhaps you could have," Thyrn admitted as they started on their way. Farn had defeated his father two dozen-years ago, after all. "But my armies weren't starving."

"Yes, where did you get all that food in a famine? Surely by now you trust me not to betray you."

Thyrn raised an eyebrow. "Did you or did you not begin this conversation by saying you'd wanted me to lose here?"

"Oh come on. I also told you it was out of pride, not any treacherous desires."

Thyrn shook his head. "I won't tell you...but you may well see soon enough."

Farn sighed. "Fine."

They rode through the city's wider main streets, avoiding the alleys. The city's inhabitants peeked out of their alleys and houses, shying away from the advancing column.

Thyrn saw signs of looting: broken windows and doors, civilian corpses with fresh stab wounds. He regretted that—it would be harder to occupy a city that was resentful from a pillaging—but what had he expected, sending undiciplined slaves as his first wave. That the soldiery had been held back was impressive enough, but the Kurbromites wouldn't see it that way, nor would they see it as the fault of Komn's stubbornness.

Thyrn's troops had already secured the agora, which had cleared of civilians. Buildings of sun-bleached marble lined the square, the most notable being the royal palace along the western face, and the ziggurat towering over the east. Between the two, Thyrn could see why Komn sought shelter in the much more defendable pyramid.

Komn's troops looked down from the ziggurat, spear and axemen guarding the staircases with slingers and archers on the tiers. The tension was palpable as the two forces stared each other down.

"What do you think?"

"We could take it, but it'd be hard." Farn stroked his beard. "Have our rangers pick theirs off at range, pin down those spearmen with our slingers while our spearmen climb the stairs."

"Which would still shed unnecessary blood. And storming a temple will hardly make the gods look kindly upon us."

Farn snorted. "The gods already abandoned us. Why do you think the rain stopped?"

"Well to me, this whole drought has been a blessing in disguise. I'd hate to provoke the gods to take that blessing and leave me only with the disguise."

"Is that it, then? Does some god or other give you food?"

Thyrn shook his head. "Be patient; you'll see soon enough."

Farn huffed in annoyance. "Fine. Do you intend to starve him out then?"

"If it comes to it, but it won't." Thyrn prodded his horse forward and addressed the ziggurat.

"Komn, King of Kurbrom! If you have fought so as to not be named a coward, then that is achieved. My own scribes write of the valiance of your army's defense!" That was true, if only so Thyrn looked better for defeating a competent foe. "But the battle is over now. You have lost. Come out and make peace, and I swear before witnesses of gods and dwarves alike that I shall be merciful. Continue to hide on the great ziggurat, however, and not only shall you starve, but your legacy will be that of cowardice."

Silence. There was no reply from the temple.

"A pretty speech, but he won't yield. I think he's more afraid of dying than being a coward."

"I say he'll yield before sundown." Thyrn sat in his chariot.

"Care to make it interesting?"

"What do you want to bet? Money? I'm afraid I need all I have, for the war."

"How about land? There's a settlement on our mutual border: Thend, a walled town with a nice irrigation system."

"And what would you bet against it?" Thyrn shook his head. "No, I'm afraid I have no interest in risking land."

"Thend is on my side of the border. I took it from your father when he invaded me, remember?"

"Regardless." He thought for a moment. "How about we bet our chariots? The ones we're on now, that is."

"But you've got other chariots."

"So it would be no loss to the war effort if I lost this one. But it's such fine craftsmanship, I would be disappointed to lose it."

Farn thought on that, then said "alright," and held a hand out to shake.

They sat in the agora for hours, waiting, before the carts finally made it. Before entering the city, Thyrn had sent to the camp for them, and they must have had a hard time navigating the boulder-strewn field.

"Vitt's tits," Farn cursed as he watched the slaves pull into the agora rickshaw-like carts teaming with produce. "You're not gonna starve him out; you're gonna wave food under his nose until he comes out for a bite! You shoulda told me!"

"A bet's a bet." Thyrn stood in his chariot and again addressed the ziggurat. "Komn, and any who hear! I bring food! I know the state of food in this city was bad even before the siege! He who is hungry, surrender, and I swear you shall be fed! This offer is not only to Komn, but to all you who hear!"

The first dwarves descended the ziggurat's steps almost immediately: bald, white-robed priests with gray, braided beards. Within half an hour, the soldiers were throwing down weapons and rushing down to eat.

Komn himself descended as the sun first touched the horizon.