Don Bassingthwaite - Word of traitors

“I didn’t hire an assassin!” Geth growled.

“I’m not saying you did. Or that Ashi did.” She looked to Dagii. “Or you.”

“I didn’t know about the danger of the rod until after Haruuc was dead,” Dagii said stiffly.

“No, but I know you.” Ekhaas’s ears rose and flicked. “When you returned with Keraal as your prisoner, you were as dirty as a farmhand and your hands were blistered because you had insisted on binding the Gan’duur warriors into the grieving trees along the road yourself. You took responsibility for their deaths. Someone with such muut wouldn’t hire an assassin to kill his lhesh.”

Geth thought he saw something pass between them, a meeting of amber and gray eyes, then Dagii lowered his head in acknowledgement and Ekhaas turned back to him and Chetiin.

“None of that proves Midian is the one behind it, only that he wasn’t there,” she said. “Haruuc had enemies-any one of them could have hired an assassin. But the false Chetiin knew the words of our pledge. Midian has to be our suspect.”

Only if Chetiin is telling the truth, whispered a voice inside Geth. He swallowed it, sending it down into the cold feeling that swirled in his gut. He remembered how pale Midian had been when they had told him about the danger of the rod. If Geth had just realized he’d made a horrible mistake, surely he would have reacted in the same way. “It still leaves us with the question of why he would do it,” he said, “and why he wouldn’t have come to the rest of us before hiring an assassin.”

“For any and all of the reasons we guessed Chetiin might have done it,” said Ekhaas. “We’ve got Midian. Do we confront him?”

“No,” Chetiin said quietly. The goblin elder rose from his crouch. “Solve the problem of the rod first. When Haruuc’s heir is lhesh with the false rod in his hand and the true rod has been dealt with, then we confront Midian.”

“You think he’d betray us.”

“I’m not certain what to think, but I know that accusing him of orchestrating the murder of Haruuc will not go well right now. We can’t involve other people without revealing the secret of the rod. We need to deal with one problem before we move onto the next. You’re close to getting the true rod away. Will rushing to confront Midian change anything?”

Ekhaas flicked her ears. “No. I don’t think we should tell him any more than he needs to know though. We’ve already promised Tenquis we wouldn’t reveal his identity. We should keep our meeting with you a secret, too.”

“It’s better if no one knows you’ve seen me,” said Chetiin. “Not even Ashi-the more people who know, the more people who could give me away. There’s someone out there who believes I’m dead. We should let them continue to believe it. If it’s Midian, Ashi’s trust will hide our suspicion. I’ll listen for rumors of the shaarat’khesh who performed the assassination. We may be able to learn something more.” He nodded to the east. “Dawn is almost here. You should return to Khaar Mbar’ost.”

“What if we need to talk to you again?” asked Dagii. “How do we contact you?”

“Hang something from your window in Khaar Mbar’ost. I’ll come to you.” He smiled. “I’m pleased that we were able to speak. It’s good to know I can trust you.”

Suspicion seethed in Geth’s belly. He struggled to keep it from his face as Chetiin vaulted up onto a charred beam that slanted down into the ruins from a broken roofline. They lost sight of him among the shadows for a moment-a moment that stretched out longer and longer until they all realized he had gone.

Their own return through Rhukaan Draal was quiet. There were a few more people moving on the streets now, though they were still able to pass without attracting notice. The chill sense of suspicion was still with Geth as they paused a short distance from Rhukaan Draal. “I’ll catch the attention of the guards at the gates,” said Dagii. “You two go in. There will be other people arriving at Khaar Mbar’ost now. Once we’re inside, there’s no way to avoid being seen at this time of day, but there also won’t be anything unusual in us moving around.”

“How do I get past the guards outside my chamber?”

“Just walk in,” Ekhaas said with a smile. “It’s your chamber. They’ll think you’re already inside and they’ll be too surprised and embarrassed to say later that you weren’t.”

Geth made a face. “That sounds too easy.”

It was. They turned a corner and came into sight of the gates of Khaar Mbar’ost. Instead of only a few people passing into a fortress still stirring in the early morning, the gates were a rush of messengers, warriors, and warlords.

“Rat,” said Geth.

“Khaavolaar,” said Ekhaas.

“Something has happened,” said Dagii grimly.

“What do we do?” Geth looked at the two hobgoblins, who looked at each other. Ekhaas’s ears bent forward.

“Keep going,” she said. “We may be able to slip through in the chaos. We’ll find out what’s going on once we’re inside.”

The guards at the gate, however, were alert. Even as they approached, trying to move causally in the wake of a warlord’s entourage, one of the guards straightened and shouted, “He’s here! Send the message-he’s here!”

Instantly, Geth was the center of attention as guards came pouring out into the courtyard of the fortress. For a moment, he feared that they were there to arrest him, but then he realized that they were forming up as an honor guard. He shoved the bundle containing the Rod of Kings at Ekhaas. They couldn’t be found with it. “Get that away! Get it back to my chamber.”

She nodded and melted away into the moving crowd. Dagii stayed by Geth’s side. A moment later, Munta and Tariic appeared. “Maabet!” cursed Munta. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking for you.”

“I wanted to see the celebrations that took place at night after the games ended,” Geth said. “I wanted to go without anyone knowing who I was.”

Munta blinked. “Rhukaan Draal? At night? With only Dagii for protection?”

“He’s not entirely helpless, Munta,” Dagii said. “What’s going on?”

“You picked a bad night to go out.” Tariic’s voice was dark. “A messenger falcon arrived in Khaar Mbar’ost during the third watch. It was carrying word from the village of Zarrthec. Villages and clanholds to the east have been attacked by raiders.”

Dagii’s ears rose sharply. “Someone sympathetic to the Gan’duur?”

Tariic shook his head. “Valenar.” He fixed his gaze on Geth. “The war that you said wouldn’t happen is here.”

21 Sypheros

The throne room had been pressed into use for the first time since Haruuc’s death. Leaning forward from the viewing gallery above, Ashi could still see the stain of the lhesh’s blood on the dais. A dar tradition, like leaving the death wound visible. As long as the stain remained, people would remember that a great leader had died on that spot.

The white bulk of the Dhakaani grieving tree still stood to the side of the dais as well, blocking one of the tall windows behind the throne. The tree made a sinister presence, but the carved stone limbs were harmless now. The words that commanded them had died with Haruuc. No one had tried to dismantle and remove the tree, though. Maybe Haruuc had been the only one who knew that secret, too.

Noise filled the rest of the throne room and the gallery. The assembly of warlords gathered in the throne room beneath walls lined with tall statues of fierce hobgoblin warriors and banners carrying clan crests. Exiled to the gallery were all those who had no place among the warlords and clan chiefs: ambassadors and envoys from the other nations of Khorvaire, the dragonmarked houses, and those clans like the Kech Volaar that dwelled in Darguun but had not sworn allegiance to Haruuc. Today the gallery was more crowded than the throne room. Everyone was in attendance. Word of the messenger falcon’s arrival during the night, and of the news it carried, had spread quickly.