Word of Traitors: Legacy of Dhakaan - Book 2 (16 page)

“A message has been received by messenger falcon,” he said in his heavily accented Goblin. “This is that message.” He produced a piece of paper too large and stiff to have been carried by one of the hobgoblin-trained falcons. Someone must have translated the original Goblin runes for him and coached him in reading it. “To Khaar Mbar’ost,” he read. “A runner from Ketkeet clanhold has arrived in Zarrthec. Valenar raiders have struck at Tii’ator, are advancing on Ketkeet, and are believed to have struck at more locations. Survivors of Tii’ator seeking refuge at Ketkeet report seeing smoke in the direction of other clan- and farmholds. Other runners and falcons sent by Tii’ator and Ketkeet have not arrived. I believe they have been brought down by Valenar. Zarrthec stands to defend itself.”

Geth looked up. “It is signed by the
chib
of Zarrthec and dated the evening of 20 Sypheros. Yesterday.”

Words of anger and frustration swelled from the warlords, but the old hobgoblin by the pole rapped a staff against the floor. “Respect the order of assembly! The
shava
of Haruuc continues.”

When silence had returned, Geth looked back at his paper. “Two other falcons have since arrived. One comes from Baar Kai
clanhold, along the border of the Mournland south of the ruins of Lyrenton. The message it carried reads only, ‘Baar Kai falls. Elves burn our fields and kill all who stand against them.’” He hesitated, then said, “The third message was written in Elven.”

The room erupted in outrage. Ashi saw those ambassadors and envoys with elf blood—the half-elf viceroy of House Medani, the entertainer who served as the spokesperson for House Thurani in Rhukaan Draal, an aide to the Aundairian ambassador—sitting in the gallery flinch at the anger below. The old hobgoblin slammed his staff down and called for order repeatedly. Geth shouted for calm in Haruuc’s name. There was no response until Tariic’s voice rang over the chaos. “Darguuls! We give victory to our enemy if there is not order!”

And the warlords listened to him. Many took their seats again, dragging more boisterous neighbors with them. “He sounds like his uncle,” murmured Pater.

“The warlords who responded are all in his camp,” said Ashi. “Daavn was one of the first to sit.”

Vounn glanced at her and nodded at the observation. They weren’t the only ones to notice. Garaad, Aguus, and Iizan glared at Tariic, but the new lord of the Rhukaan Taash had already nodded to Geth. The shifter drew a breath and read from his paper.

“The Valaes Tairn”—Ashi recognized the Valenar elves’ name for themselves—“manswer the challenge of Lhesh Haruuc Shaarat’kor. If the blades of Darguun would fall on Valenar, Darguuls must face the warband of Kaelan Vaerian! Kaelan Vaerian will defeat all who come against her!”

Someone below laughed loudly. “A warband? A single warband? They must be junior warriors out to make honor for themselves! They can’t be much of a threat.”

“Be quiet, you fool!” Tariic’s voice cracked like the thunder of a nearby lightning strike. He stood forward again, glaring down among the assembled warlords. “This isn’t just one warband. The territory of the Baar Kai is too far from Ketkeet or Tii’ator. There are at least four or five warbands working together, probably more. We know they’re a threat because they’ve destroyed at least three clanholds—and there has been no further word from Zarrthec.” He turned, snatched the paper out of Geth’s hand, and shook it in
the air. “This is no missive from a true war leader. This is a boast sent out to the enemy by an inexperienced warrior drunk on a fleeting victory. If a junior warrior under my command did such a thing, I’d have him whipped.”

The old hobgoblin’s staff tapped the floor. “Tariic of Rhukaan Taash, respect the order of assembly.”

Tariic nodded. “Arbiter, there is more I have to say, but I will wait for recognition.” He turned to look at Geth. Before the shifter could open his mouth, though, Aguus had pushed forward.

“Tariic has already spoken. I will speak now!”

Garaad and Iizan weren’t far behind with their own protests and demands. Geth turned a bewildered gaze to the arbiter, then to Munta and Dagii. Munta pointed at one of the heirs. Ashi couldn’t be sure which one. Neither could Geth, it seemed, because Munta grimaced when he called out “Tariic of Rhukaan Taash will speak.”

The banner of the lhesh came down from the pole and a banner bearing the crest of the razor crown rose in its place. Tariic nodded to Geth. The other heirs backed down—reluctantly, Ashi thought. Geth returned to the throne as Tariic moved forward. He stood straight and proud as he addressed the assembly.

“Chiefs, warlords, elder warlords—warriors, heed me. Lhesh Haruuc was struck down at the height of his glory. We all know the last words he spoke. ‘Ancient blood demands an ancient enemy. As it was in the age of Dhakaan, the People shall go into battle against elves. Let our blades fall on Valenar.’ Haruuc’s murder robbed us of a great leader, one who deserves all of the honor that we give to him.” His voice dropped and he lowered his eyes. “But perhaps in honoring him with mourning and games, we have denied him the greatest honor of all. We have failed to follow his final words.”

He paused for a moment and the hall was silent between his words. “‘Ancient blood demands an ancient enemy.’ We have let our recent history cover our glorious past. Haruuc signed the Treaty of Thronehold that brought an end to the Last War and recognition as a sovereign nation to Darguun—and yes, to Valenar. Yet fear of this document, fear of war, has held us back. Some have even claimed there could be no war.”

Ashi saw Geth sit up, anger crossing his face. Tariic ignored him and continued.

“Our hesitation has cost us. Valenar has struck the first blow. They have seen what Haruuc surely saw: that the Treaty of Throne-hold is a document drawn up by
chaat’oor
, defilers, strangers to the shores of Khorvaire.”

His voice rose again, filling the throne room. “‘As it was in the age of Dhakaan’—our People ruled this continent before humans even dreamed of its existence. And in those days, only one enemy met us as an equal on the field of battle: the Tairnadal, honored ancestors of the Valaes Tairn. Those who wrote the Treaty of Thronehold are lovers of peace. They see war as unnatural. A temporary condition. There is a reason we do not number elves among the
chaat’oor
. Like us, they know that war is eternal, that struggle, not peace, is the true way of the world. Since the age of the Empire of Dhakaan, they have been an honored enemy.”

“Their attack reminds us of who we are, of who we were meant to be. Now is the time to throw off illusions of peace. Now is the time to meet their attack. Now is the time to remember and honor Haruuc. The arch-traitor Chetiin silenced his voice, but he could not silence his spirit for it is the spirit of the People.” Tariic drew his sword and thrust it into the air. “Let our blades fall on Valenar!”

There was not even a moment’s silence before a roar of approval rose from the warlords. Light reflecting from drawn blades flashed around the throne room and the thumping of fists on chests in the
dar
salute was like the sound of drums. The arbiter didn’t try to restore order, but simply stood and offered applause in the form of an open hand slapped against his chest. Aguus, Garaad, and Iizan looked sour, but they roared and cheered along with the other warlords—Ashi knew there was nothing else they could do now. Anything they said would sound like hollow imitation.

Even those
dar
in the gallery were applauding. Ashi saw Senen beating a hand against her chest, eyes wide and ears high in admiration. At her side, Ekhaas applauded as well, though when her eyes met Ashi’s there was worry in them.

Among the ambassadors and envoys—the
chaat’oor
—in the gallery, there was only mechanical applause, if that. Even Pater who had moments before greeted the prospect of war with greed
looked stunned. “Lords of the Host, I’ve never seen Tariic like this before. He always talked about how Haruuc brought Darguun into the world but that he would bring the world into Darguun.”

“He wants the throne,” said Vounn. “Haruuc told me once that Tariic valued
atcha
over
muut
. He’s willing to play any game of politics to reach it.”

“Including starting a war?” asked Ashi.

Vounn sat back in her chair. “He didn’t start it, Ashi. He’s only using it—just as all of us will.”

Ashi looked back down into the throne room. Geth had stood up, an expression that mixed fury and confusion on his face. His hand was tight on the Rod of Kings and Ashi suspected that if it had been possible for him to use its power, he might have done so at that moment. Tariic spoke a few quiet words to him, but the shifter just jerked away. The warlords were growing quiet again, and the arbiter rapped his staff on the floor. Tariic turned away from Geth to give the old hobgoblin a nod. The banner of the Rhukaan Taash descended on the pole of order.

But another shout rose from the crowd. Ashi recognized Daavn of Marhaan’s voice. “Who will lead us?”

The descending banner paused. Tariic turned back to the warlords.

This time Garaad was the first heir to protest. “No!” The lean warlord still had his sword drawn. The blade rose to point at Tariic. “You will not take this honor! There are two days of games left. Haruuc’s successor will only be chosen then. You are not lhesh yet!”

The words sounded hollow and desperate even to Ashi, but Tariic only bent his head to Garaad. “It is as you say,” he said. “I wouldn’t dare to act as lhesh while we still honor Haruuc. But we can’t sit on our swords while Valenar raiders sweep Darguun. We must act now, don’t you agree?”

He looked at each of the other contending heirs in return and once again Ashi knew that there was nothing they could say. Garaad’s ears went back flat against his skull. “Yes,” he said, lowering his sword. “But it will not be you leading the battle.”

“Not any of us. We’ve been too busy fighting each other. But there is one who has recently fought on behalf of Darguun.” Tariic looked down among the assembled warlords. “Dagii of Mur Talaan,
named
lhevk’rhu
by Haruuc, will you recall the army that defeated the Gan’duur?”

The warlords around Dagii seemed to draw back a little bit, leaving him to stare back at Tariic like a sentry caught off guard. Then his face hardened and he stood straight.
“Mazo,”
he said.

Tariic looked back at the other heirs and at Geth. “Dagii’s troops will be a vanguard, moving swiftly to meet the threat presented by the Valenar. His loyalty to Darguun cannot be questioned. Does this satisfy you all?”

Ashi could see the heirs’ ears flick as they thought through the merits of the suggestion. One by one, they nodded. Tariic glanced at Geth. “And you,
shava
of Haruuc? You hold the throne in trust. Do you grant your approval?”

Geth’s expression was hard as he looked down at Dagii. The young warlord gave him back a slight nod. Geth looked up at Tariic and bared his teeth. “How can I refuse?”

Tariic met his bared teeth with a fierce smile, but didn’t bother to answer the question. There was, Ashi knew, no need to. Instead, he gestured for Iizan, Aguus, and Garaad to stand forward with him. “It is decided!” he said. “The reign of a new lhesh will begin with glory and war on Valenar as Haruuc wanted. The assembly of warlords is ended!”

The gathered warlords cheered again, some closing on Dagii to congratulate him, but most saluting the four heirs gathered on the dais. Ashi wondered if she was the only one to notice the old arbiter look to Geth for confirmation of Tariic’s words and to see the shifter nod like a weary fighter defeated in battle.

Ashi turned away and founded herself facing Esmyssa Entar ir’Korran once more. The Zil ambassador’s face pinched up into a smile. “Better to have Darguun and Valenar at each other’s throats than ours, at least,” she said. “If they want to break the Treaty of Thronehold, I don’t imagine the other nations of Khorvaire will rush to aid either of them.”

Ashi couldn’t hold back a snort. “And that’s what Haruuc really wanted.”

Esmyssa looked puzzled.

Ashi shook her head. “Never mind,” she said and stood up. “Please excuse me.”

She managed to spot Ekhaas before the hobgoblin left the gallery. Ekhaas and Senen Dhakaan were standing in a corner, arguing with quiet words. By the time Ashi reached the spot, the two
duur’kala
had separated and Ekhaas was on her own, glaring at Senen’s retreating back.

Ashi caught her arm. “What do we do now?”

Ekhaas’s amber eyes flickered to her, then went back to Senen. “Carry on as planned, I think,” she said, her voice hard.

“You think?” Ashi tried to keep her own voice both level and quiet. “Ekhaas, we’re losing Dagii. He’s going to be …” She stopped, following Ekhaas’s gaze after Senen. “What’s wrong?”

“Senen wants me to go with Dagii,” said Ekhaas. Her ears were back against her head. “She wants a representative of the Kech Volaar along. She wants a
duur’kala
to witness the great clash of hobgoblins and elves.”

Ashi’s hand fell away from Ekhaas’s arm. “No. She can’t.”