Don Bassingthwaite - Word of traitors

“I am pleased,” she said. “But no legend of Dhakaan tells of sentries equipped with bells.”

Dagii smiled slightly. “The Dhakaani didn’t think of everything, Ekhaas.”

A thick stand of trees rose ahead, remnants of an ancient wood long cleared but surrounded by a fringe of new growth sprung up since Cyre had abandoned this land to Darguun. Dagii led her into it, following a narrow game trail until the wood gave way to an open space cleared by the death of an old tree. He paused, gesturing for silence. For a long moment, they waited.

Finally, a shadow stirred alongside the great fallen tree-and a huge black wolf rose to its feet. Her feet, Ekhaas corrected herself, and not a wolf, but a worg. She knew the beast. “Marrow?” she said. The worg’s tail swished once. Ekhaas looked at Dagii. “Then-?”

“Yes,” came Chetiin’s scarred voice.

Ekhaas turned to find the shaarat’khesh elder crouched beside the game trail as if he’d been there the whole time. And maybe he had.

He stood and smiled at her, teeth flashing in a face stained dark. “Saa, Ekhaas.”

“He revealed himself to me in Zarrthec,” said Dagii. They all sat or crouched in the shadow of the fallen tree, their voices low. “He told me not to tell you until we were here.”

“You should have told me anyway,” Ekhaas said indignantly-and saw something like a smile pull on Marrow’s muzzle and creep into her coldly cunning eyes. She glanced away. The worg understood what they said, even if she couldn’t speak their language.

Chetiin reached up and scratched behind his mount’s ears. “There was no reason to tell you,” he said. “You would have tried to seek me out.”

“I wouldn’t have!” she protested. He just continued to look at her as he scratched Marrow. After a moment, Ekhaas flicked her ears. “Maybe I would have.”

Chetiin’s dark eyes seemed to flash. “When you march with an army, you have little need of additional protection.”

“Protection?” Ekhaas asked. She saw Dagii wince slightly and Chetiin’s ears twitch. She looked from one of them to the other. “What are you talking about?”

“Geth asked me to watch over you during the war,” Chetiin said. “He wants to be sure you make it back to Rhukaan Draal to help dispose of the Rod of Kings.”

“I hope you told him we don’t need watching over!”

Marrow raised her big head at her angry tone and woofed softly as if in warning.

“Ekhaas,” said Dagii. There was command in his voice, the sort of tone she’d heard him use with his soldiers. She closed her mouth. He nodded to Chetiin. “In war, there is a place for any aid that is offered.”

Chetiin returned the nod. Marrow snorted and lowered her head back onto crossed paws. Ekhaas glowered. “When we get back to Rhukaan Draal, I’m going to take Geth up Khaar Mbar’ost and throw him off it.”

“He was worried for you,” said Chetiin. “We spoke the night before the final day of the games. I think he was feeling powerless-a strange thing to say about someone who sat on the throne of a king, but still true. He needs allies. We should make sure we all return to him.” He left off scratching Marrow and reached into a pouch at his waist. “Marrow and I didn’t stray far from your marching route, but we had an interesting encounter today. We could have had more if we’d gone looking for them. You know you’ve been watched?”

He held out two severed elf ears, fleshy and lobed like human ears but tapering to long tips. Marrow whined and thumped the ground with her tail. He shook his head at her, holding out the ears to Ekhaas and Dagii.

“Know it?” asked Dagii. “I expected it.”

Ekhaas glanced from the ears-both left ears, so cut from two elves-to him. “You expected it?”

“It would be difficult to move a company of soldiers through territory controlled by the enemy without being noticed.” He sat back. “I’ve never fought the Valenar before. I’ve only heard stories. If we’re going to beat them, I want to see them fight firsthand. I want to see their tactics.”

“I could tell you a dozen stories about battle with the Valaes Tairn,” Ekhaas said.

“Stories,” said Dagii. “I need to fight them myself.”

“You approve of this?” she asked Chetiin. The old goblin frowned.

“I didn’t know about it until now. It’s not the shaarat’khesh way.” His frown became thoughtful. “It makes some sense-if the Valenar don’t decide to overwhelm you in numbers. Their idea of honor is not atcha or muut. To them, a victory is a victory, no matter how it’s achieved. The only things they hold sacred are their ancestors and their horses. You can’t count on a fair fight.”

Dagii’s face was calm, his voice assured. “They respond to the same challenge Haruuc put to the warlords of Darguun. Dar and elves are ancient enemies. I am told the Valenar venerate their ancestors by testing themselves. Their ancestors fought our ancestors. This will be a matter of honor-such as their honor is-for them. They won’t try to crush us, I think, but only send a force equivalent in strength to ours. Just enough to best us.” A spark entered his voice and his ears stood up straight. “I want to see how many they consider ‘enough.’”

Chetiin’s expression tightened. “Geth was right to send me to protect you. You’re mad.” He flicked the elf ears to Marrow, who snapped them out of the air and began to chew at the tough cartilage.

A chill passed through Ekhaas. “If their force is evenly matched to ours, both sides could suffer heavy losses.”

“Then it will be a test of strategy and will. If we can’t beat them here, how will we beat them if they come against the main army?”

“The main army is bigger,” Ekhaas said.

Dagii smiled-and put his hand on her knee. The touch was hesitant but it wasn’t fleeting or accidental. It lingered and Ekhaas could feel it even through the stout steel-studded leather she wore. It took her breath away. Dagii’s face had turned a little dark, but he kept his voice steady. “We’ll beat them, Ekhaas. I promise you.” When he moved his hand, he slipped it away as if reluctant to break the moment of contact.

Ekhaas tried to find words. Chetiin had looked away, politely ignoring the awkward, intimate moment.

“What about the scouts?” Ekhaas managed to say.

Dagii’s smile faded. “They have orders to go back to the main army if they return and we’re not here,” he said. “Not all of them are truly scouting either-a few have stayed and concealed themselves to watch Tii’ator. They’ll carry word back to the army if we’re defeated.”

Ekhaas’s ears flicked. “I begin to doubt your promise of victory. If we’re defeated, will the scouts be able to evade the Valenar?”

“I sent out the best available. Only taarka’khesh of the Silent Clans would have been better,” he said.

Chetiin looked back at that and even Marrow perked up in the midst of her chewing. Ekhaas recalled what Chetiin had once told her, that the worg’s pack had an ancient alliance with the legendary scouts of the taarka’khesh and that she traveled with him as a favor.

Dagii nodded at them both. “I tried to make contact with the taarka’khesh,” he said. “I had no response in either Rhukaan Draal or Zarrthec.”

“The Silent Wolves stay away from Rhukaan Draal at the best of times,” said Chetiin. “They’ve abandoned the city altogether in the wake of Haruuc’s assassination. It isn’t safe for any of the Silent Clans. In Zarrthec, they avoided you because your ties to Haruuc and to Tariic stain you. You’ll have to convince the taarka’khesh of your good will before they’ll work for you.”

“I thought that might be the case,” Dagii said. “I have faith in those I’ve chosen, though. How we proceed will depend on what information they bring back.” He scraped a patch of dirt clear and leaned forward to draw in it with a stick. “The border of the Mournland, the Ghaal River, Zarrthec, Tii’ator, Ketkeet, Lyrenton, the Orien trade road”-the stick made two crooked lines, one straight line, and four dots in the black soil-“these mark the limits of Valenar raids so far as we know. A worst-case scenario is that the raiding warbands are operating independently, forcing us to chase them down separately.”