The Doom of Kings: Legacy of Dhakaan - Book 1 (19 page)

“Khaari Batuuvk,”
said Aruget. “The Bloody Market. Anything is for sale there.” He gave her a slow look. “You should stay away.
Mo’tohiish.”

Very dangerous. Ashi nodded, but she kept one eye on the market as they rode. It didn’t look any more dangerous to her than other places she’d been—in Vralkek, she’d stared down an ogre intent on picking a fight—but then again, it seemed that every second street corner in Rhukaan Draal carried a surprise that shifted her hand a little closer to her sword. On one corner, three goblin children industriously stripped a bugbear that, on first glance, she took to be sleeping, but on looking again she realized was dead. On another corner, a grubby dwarf stood beside a cart displaying a rack of the skinned and dripping carcasses of some animal Ashi couldn’t identify, in spite of her years as a hunter. The dwarf saw her staring and grinned, displaying brilliantly white teeth. On a third corner, a dull-eyed human so thin and ragged Ashi wasn’t sure if it was a man or a women danced in shuffling circles as goblins and hobgoblins passed by without a second glance.

“The crown city of Darguun,” said Midian, riding his magical pony up beside her. “Magnificent sight, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t realize there would be so many races,” Ashi said.

“The laws are simple here, and nobody asks too many questions. There are people in Rhukaan Draal who couldn’t show their faces in the Five Nations without being arrested. In its own way, it’s even more open than Sharn. Nobody here is really interested in who you are or what you’ve done.”

Ashi could see that the gnome was right. She was staring far more than anyone else in the streets. The inhabitants of Rhukaan Draal hardly seemed to look twice at what was going on around them or even at the procession of mercenaries surrounding the party that rode under Haruuc’s personal banner. They were just another part of the bustle in the streets—only the strength of their numbers earned them space on the road.

She remembered how Aruget had responded in a similar way to her when they’d faced each other at Sentinel Tower, reacting to her, not to her position. On impulse, she reached up and pulled off the scarf that had covered her head and face, exposing the pattern of her dragonmark. Midian raised his eyebrows, but there was absolutely no reaction from anyone on the street. They were under the shadow of Haruuc’s fortress and riding across a wide stone plaza to towering gates before even Vounn noticed. “Ashi!” she snapped. “Put your scarf back on!”

“No,” said Ashi. “I don’t need to. No one here cares. I don’t think they even recognize a Siberys Mark.” She shook out her hair, delighting in the simple freedom.

“They will inside Khaar Mbar’ost.”

“What if they do?” Ashi asked her mentor. “They’ll know who I am soon enough anyway. How many humans are there at Haruuc’s court?”

Vounn’s lips pressed together, and she looked to Tariic. He shrugged.
“Ban,”
he said. “She’s right.” Vounn’s mouth turned into a thin white line. Ashi felt a small glow of triumph. Geth gave her a smile, Ekhaas a flick of her ears and a wink.

Then the Deneith mercenaries were falling back and their party was riding alone across the last stretch of the plaza. Massive bugbear guards, each holding a halberd as big as a flagpole and wearing red cords fastened with bronze pins in the shape of Haruuc’s sword and crown crest around their upper arms, stood straight and tall as they approached the gates of Khaar Mbar’ost. The company rode through into a hall as big as a courtyard. The unfettered noise of Rhukaan Draal vanished behind them, replaced by the controlled echoes of a fortress. From the wall opposite, an enormous relief sculpture of a hobgoblin warrior glared down at the gate, as if challenging anyone who dared to enter. Everbright lanterns ringed the hall, but its ceiling still vanished into shadow somewhere above the great sculpture’s head. Tariic reined in his horse and looked back at them.

“Welcome to the court of Lhesh Haruuc Shaarat’kor,” he said.

A hobgoblin wearing the red corded armband of Khaar Mbar’ost led them deeper into the fortress, to a chamber where Tariic said they would be able to leave their packs for transfer to the quarters that awaited them. Basins of warm water and small pots of soft soap that smelled of herbs were brought so they could refresh themselves. A screen made of fine fabric that Ashi suspected had been imported from Karrnath was set up for them to change behind should they wish to do so. Most of their baggage had been left with the rest of the delegation in Sterngate and would arrive with them, but Ashi was disappointed to discover that Vounn had somehow managed to transport complete sets of formal clothing in her traveling pack.

To her astonishment, however, the clothing Vounn produced for her wasn’t the gown that she would have expected, but clean trousers, a shirt, and a jacket reminiscent of a parade uniform. The lady seneschal seemed to take pleasure in her surprise. “Did you think a party gown would impress Haruuc’s court?” she asked Ashi. “I may have one if you prefer.”

“No,” Ashi said quickly. “This will be fine.” She snatched the outfit before Vounn could take it back and retreated behind the screen.

Vounn nodded when she came out. “Polish your boots,” she said, then took her turn behind the screen.

Midian changed into a clean shirt and a brightly colored vest taken from his pack. Tariic, Aruget, Thuun, and Krakuul gave their armor a rapid polishing. Chetiin and Ekhaas did nothing except brush the dust from their clothes. Geth, Ashi suspected, would have done nothing at all except that Tariic produced the blue tabard of a House Deneith guard.

The shifter growled at him. “Where did you get that?”

“From a guard in Sentinel Tower. If you’re going to be Ashi’s bodyguard, you should look the part.” Tariic held out the tabard. “Put it on and be sure to walk behind Ashi.”

Scowling, Geth pulled the tabard over his head and stuffed the fabric roughly through his sword belt—unlike in human courts, weapons were not only permitted here, but expected. He managed to catch and tear the tabard several times with the hooks on the
back of his gauntlet, leading to a round of cursing that ended only when Vounn stepped out from behind the screen.

Ashi stared in surprise. Vounn wore a dress that was as simply cut as any Ashi had ever seen, and yet somehow it flattered her. The dominant fabric was a blue-gray silk, plain in color and with only the barest hint of a pattern yet of fine quality and excellent weight. The overall effect was one of understated wealth, of power and influence hinted at but not quite revealed. Tariic slapped a hand against his chest in applause. Vounn acknowledged him with a nod and a shallow curtsy.

Tariic dismissed the hobgoblin servant and led them himself to a large antechamber in which a number of goblins and hobgoblins waited, talking quietly together in small groups. At one end of the antechamber, a broad flight of steps rose to another hall. Ashi couldn’t see past the stairs, but she could hear voices speaking in Goblin. Tariic spoke to a goblin with a red cord armband who darted up the stairs and into the next hall. Tariic turned back to them. “The assembly of warlords is meeting. Haruuc will summon us when there’s a pause in the discussion.”

He looked nervous for the first time Ashi could remember. “Is there anything we can do?” she asked.

“Wait.” His ears twitched. “Vounn, sit with me. I’ll tell you who some of the warlords are that are here.”

The hobgoblin and the lady seneschal went to a nearby bench. Midian shrugged, went to another bench, produced the little yellow book he’d been reading when they arrived in Sterngate, and began reading again. Chetiin nudged Geth. “There’s someone I want to find before we go in,” he said. “I’ll be back.” He walked away toward the end of the hall.

In the next hall, a voice rose loud. Ekhaas’s ears twitched toward it, and her eyes narrowed. Ashi strained to follow the voice, but most of the speech was words she didn’t know yet. “What are they saying?” she asked.

“Try this,” said Geth. He took her hand and placed it just below his on the hilt of his sword so they were both holding the weapon.

Instantly, she understood the words as if she’d been speaking Goblin all her life. “… hold us back!” ranted the speaker. “Our
clans are willing! Our warriors are waiting! There are riches to be had over the Seawalls. A swift descent from Matshuc Zaal would put Sterngate in our hands. I have reports from a scout who says that he’s worked out a path through the human defenses.”

“Has he followed the path?” asked another voice. This one was calmer and deeper, speaking in measured, thoughtful tones. “Has he walked up to the walls of Sterngate?”

“He waits only for confirmation of our interest in his plan before he makes the attempt!”

“In other words, he hasn’t and he wisely isn’t going to throw his life away for no reason,” said the deeper voice. “Daavn, Sterngate’s deadliest defenses are the ones that can’t be seen from a distance.”

The first voice paused for a moment, then changed tactics. “A strike around the northern end of the Seawalls then,” said Daavn. “With Skullreave as our staging base, we’re three days’ march from the colony the Brelish king is allowing to call itself New Cyre. You know their defenses are weak.”

“Their defenses are weak because they’re poor,” shouted a third voice. “Sit down, Daavn.”

“Respect the order of assembly,” said a fourth voice wearily, as if the speaker had repeated the words too many times.

“Daavn, we will not attack Breland,” said the deep voice, almost as weary. “We are bound by the Treaty of Thronehold. Yield the pole and sit down if you have nothing new to say.”

A murmuring of other voices agreed with him.

Daavn was silent for a moment, then said, “Valenar.”

The murmuring voices ended instantly, and Daavn went on more boldly. “The ancient enemies of our people have taken up residence across Kraken Bay. When the Valenar elves claimed their territory, they even did it on the basis of blood spilled fighting against our ancestors. They claim a victory they didn’t earn. We should take ships and teach them what it means to fight hobgoblins!”

This time the murmurs that rose were excited and voices called out support to Daavn—but they all ended as the deep voice shouted. “There will be no attacks outside our borders! Valenar is also a Thronehold nation!”

“My clan cries out for war!”

“If the Marhaan want war, Daavn,” said the deep voice, “look for it in the Mournland. Push back the mists and seek all the riches you wish.”

Daavn had no answer, and there were no more murmurs. The deep voice grunted and said, “Lower the banner of the Marhaan. Their warlord has finished, and Aguus of the Bound Cat clan wishes to speak.”

Ashi released the hilt of Geth’s sword and the voices became incomprehensible once more. “Incredible. That deep voice, was that—?”

“Haruuc,” said Ekhaas. “You see what he fights against.”

“I didn’t realize that Darguun shared a border with the Mournland,” Geth said.

Ekhaas’s ears twitched irritably. “Few people do, but in fact Darguun—”

“—has the longest land border with the Mournland of any nation,” said a new voice, completing her thought.

All three of them turned to face the speaker, a hobgoblin in armor that had been painted with Haruuc’s scarlet blade and spiked crown. By the unlined orange-red skin of his face, Ashi guessed he was relatively young, maybe a few years younger than Tariic and a few years older than her, but his hair was already a dark gray that made him seem older. Ashi thought she saw a cloud of annoyance pass through Ekhaas’s eyes, but then it was gone. She would have been annoyed as well, except that the speaker stood with Chetiin and the goblin’s face creased slightly as he said, “This one who speaks before he thinks is Dagii of Mur Talaan. He’s the best fighter in Haruuc’s personal guard, and a friend.”

Dagii’s eyes—shadow gray like his hair—skipped past Ekhaas, drifted along Ashi, and lingered on Geth. The shifter bared his teeth. “Like what you see,
roo?”

“No,” said Dagii bluntly, “but I don’t have much choice, do I?”

Ashi actually saw Geth’s eyes go wide as Dagii called his bluff, then narrow as his temper flared. Chetiin moved between them before anything could happen. “Geth, did I say Dagii is a friend? Dagii, Geth is a friend too.

Dagii hadn’t moved at all.
“Ban,”
he said. “He carries Aram, but what does he know about Darguun?”

“Grandfather Rat!” Geth cursed. “Does everybody know about my sword?” He glared at Ekhaas.

The
duur’kala
shook her head, and when she answered, she didn’t sound happy. “Not everyone—he just happens to be one who does.”

“And why’s that?”

There was no missing the look that the three goblins exchanged. Ashi’s eyebrows rose, and Geth cursed again. “I really want to know what Haruuc has in store for me.”

“You won’t have to wait long now,” said Tariic. He, Vounn, and Midian had risen from their benches. “I think we’re about to go before him.”

Ashi followed their gaze. Another hobgoblin was coming down the stairs from the next hall, and Ashi was quite sure he was the oldest hobgoblin she’d ever seen. His hair and thick beard were gray as ash and his skin was faded orange. He carried a heavy sword on his belt but wore no armor, though to Ashi’s eye the bronze disks that decorated his long mantle and the bronze bands that circled his forearms looked heavy enough to block blows. He was also fat, with the body of a powerful man who had long since subsided into inactivity. He came down the stairs almost sideways, but his strides across the chamber to meet them were sure.