Don Bassingthwaite - The doom of Kings

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.

He struck his chest with a fist as he approached. “Mo’saa, Tariic. It’s good to have you back. And saa’atcha, Lady Vounn.” He greeted Vounn with another salute. Like Dagii, his eyes slid over Ekhaas and Ashi but paused on Midian as if confused, and lingered with fascination on Geth.

“Munta of Gantii Vus, also known as Munta the Gray,” said Vounn. She returned his salute in the goblin manner, earning an approving smile from him. “It is an honor.”

“Is he ready for us, Munta?” Tariic asked.

“Any moment,” confirmed the old hobgoblin. “You’ll want to be on the stairs.”

Tariic moved like a miser afraid to miss the offer of free gold. The rest of them hurried after him, leaving Dagii behind. Ekhaas and Tariic had drilled all of them on what would happen. Compared to the reception ceremony for the Darguuls at Sentinel Tower, Vounn’s official greeting in Khaar Mbar’ost would be a simple affair, but it was bound by goblin tradition and had to happen in a very particular way. The three soldiers would enter first as an honor guard, followed by Tariic, walking on the left, escorting Vounn on the right. Ashi would follow directly behind Vounn, her head down to indicate that she was subordinate to Vounn, while Geth followed her, his head up to show that he was her watchful guard. Midian would follow Tariic, his head down as well. Ekhaas and Chetiin would come last, heads up and well back from Tariic and Vounn to show that they stood on their own. Ashi had the strong feeling that neither Chetiin nor Midian really wanted a formal presentation to Haruuc, but they had no choice. Tradition dictated that all members of a party arriving at a warlord’s court be presented together.

They were only just assembled when a thin hobgoblin woman appeared at the top of the stairs and called out, “Tariic gaate Rhukaan Taash bozhuumo!”

Tariic, son of Rhukaan Taash, is summoned! The words still sounded strange to Ashi, but only Goblin would be spoken during the formal greeting, and Ekhaas had made certain that she would understand everything that happened. When their party began moving up the stairs, Ashi was ready.

With her head bowed, she could see nothing of the hall at the top of the stairs. She had a sense of a large space, of the presence of a small crowd of people attempting to be silent, of softly crackling fires, of the harsh odor of some strange blend of incense. All she could see was the stone of the floor underfoot, and that was still rough-edged, relatively new and not yet worn down by the centuries and the passing of countless feet. There were shadows-the room was dimly lit but not dark-and off to each side she could see ranks of heavy hobgoblin boots. Ahead of her, Vounn walked with calm assurance, as if out for a stroll. Behind her, Geth was swearing softly in amazement.

She clenched her teeth and kept her head down for a good fifteen paces, but then she could stand it no longer. She lifted her head for a swift and surreptitious look around-only to find that she couldn’t lower her eyes again.

The throne room of Lhesh Haruuc was as big as she’d imagined it, made larger by the deep shadows that spread up the walls to the ceiling and gathered between the pools of light shed by widely spaced everbright lanterns. Tall statues of hobgoblin warriors stood against the wall, the lanterns at their feet emphasizing the fierce faces that snarled down at those below. Between the statues hung banners with the crests of the clans of Darguun. There were easily two dozen or more of them-some large, most smaller-and for each banner there was a warlord.

They stood in front of benches, heavily carved with images of battle, that had been placed at an angle to the front of the hall. Hobgoblins, some bugbears, a very few goblins, all of them dressed in robes and polished armor, all of them watching the party pacing the length of the throne room. Ekhaas had said that some of them were only warlords by formality, that many were really just clan chiefs given a place in Haruuc’s assembly by tradition. When the assembly wasn’t in session, they would return to territories often as small as a single crude holding.

Clan chief or mighty warlord, it made little difference. Ashi felt as though she bore the weight of each dark-eyed gaze, and it was almost enough to make her lower her head again. Almost, but not quite. The throne rose up ahead of her.