Don Bassingthwaite - The doom of Kings

Haruuc was waiting for them in a chair by a window that opened onto the night. They were high in the fortress, but the sounds of Rhukaan Draal still drifted up to them. Haruuc had set aside his sword and some pieces of his armor. He looked tired and surprisingly old-he looked his age, Ekhaas realized.

Tiredness vanished as he rose, though. “Ta muut, Razu. Va,” he said. Razu nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her. Haruuc went directly to Vounn and took her hands in a gesture of greeting that, while still distinctly human, would have been far less scandalous in court. “Lady Vounn,” he said, speaking in her language, “I apologize for dragging you into our intrigues from the first moment of your arrival, but you’ve rendered me aid. I’m grateful.”

“Words from a friend are a gift given freely,” said Vounn. “But I understand this isn’t the only time you intend to involve House Deneith in your politics.”

Her words were light but direct. Haruuc’s ears bent forward. “Never intentionally. As I recall, the Korth Edicts forbid the dragonmarked houses from engaging in the dirty game of politics. Your presence in my court is based entirely on the importance of our trade with Deneith.”

Vounn smiled and nodded.

Haruuc smiled back and released Vounn’s hands. “I see that you have already spoken with Tariic about the reason I wanted to bring you here.”

“I’ve said nothing you didn’t want me to say, Uncle,” Tariic said quickly. Haruuc waved his hand dismissively.

“Don’t be concerned, Tariic. You’ve done well. I’m pleased.” He looked over the rest of the group standing beside the door. “Saa, Ekhaas duur’kala,” he said. “Mo’saa, Chetiin, old friend. I’m pleased with you both as well.”

Unlike the others who had greeted them, however, Haruuc examined Ashi and Midian. Tariic turned to introduce them. “Uncle, this is-”

“-my charge, Ashi d’Deneith,” said Vounn. She gave a little gesture, and Ashi stepped forward and bowed deeply to the lhesh. Ekhaas found herself holding her breath. If Haruuc questioned Ashi’s presence, their lie to Vounn in Sentinel Tower would be uncovered.

But all that Haruuc revealed was pleasure. “Ashi d’Deneith, bearer of the Siberys Mark of Sentinel. Saa’atcha! We must speak at another time.”

Ekhaas let her breath out and caught a glimpse of similar relief on Ashi’s face. If Haruuc suspected something-and she was certain the canny warlord did-he said nothing. Ashi’s decision to remove her scarf had been a blessing. Haruuc must have recognized the mark, remembered Ekhaas’s tale of the Shadow Marches, and guessed who Ashi was. Tariic looked relieved, too. He turned to introduce Midian.

And a curious thought stirred in Ekhaas’s mind. She knew why Haruuc hadn’t expected Ashi’s presence. Why didn’t he recognize Midian when the gnome was there at his request?

Both her curiosity and Tariic’s introduction were cut short as the door opened again and four more hobgoblins entered. Two of them were Munta the Gray and Dagii. The third was an older hobgoblin she didn’t recognize. The fourth, however, she knew well.

Senen Dhakaan, ambassador of the Kech Volaar to the court of Haruuc, pointed a finger at Midian and, in a voice that rang with the trained tones of the senior duur’kala that she was, said, “What is he doing here?”

She spoke in Goblin, but Ekhaas was certain that everyone understood her tone. Senen’s eyes fell on her, demanding an answer, and Ekhaas said, “Haruuc hired him, chib.”

Haruuc’s ears rose. Senen turned on him. “You risk your alliance with our clan, Haruuc,” she said, her voice seething. “This gnome is Midian Mit Davandi. He’s known to the Kech Volaar and among the worst of the thieves and grave robbers who hide behind the mantle of the Library of Korranberg. He’s no better than a chaat’oor!”

Midian’s eyes and expression showed that he’d followed her accusations. “Now wait-” he said in the same language, but Haruuc cut him off.

“Be silent!” the lhesh growled. He stood tall and years seemed to drop from his scowling face. “Senen Dhakaan, control your anger! You forget your place. I wouldn’t jeopardize our alliance. I didn’t hire him!”

“I did,” said Tariic. All of them stared at him-Senen in anger, Haruuc in amazement, Midian in utter surprise. Tariic’s face flushed with guilt. “I hired him in your name, Uncle. We need more than legends. We need history, and Midian was recommended to me as the Library of Korranberg’s best field researcher.”

“Best thief!” said Senen.

“I am not a thief!” Midian snapped.

“Silence!” Haruuc’s glare swept between his nephew, the gnome, and the Kech Volaar ambassador. “Tariic, how much does your researcher know?”

“As much as anyone else,” Tariic answered. Haruuc’s eyes narrowed and he twitched a finger to indicate Vounn and Ashi. Tariic nodded. “They know, but Ashi is Geth’s friend and Vounn forced-”

Haruuc bared his teeth. “We will speak of it later.” He looked at Vounn. “You know more than you were meant to, Lady Vounn. I trust you will be discreet.” He turned back to Midian. “And you know far more than you should.”

“Kill him,” Senen said. “The leaders of Kech Volaar will thank you.”

Midian’s sun-browned face turned a sickly shade of gray. Haruuc glanced at Munta and the hobgoblin Ekhaas didn’t recognize. The unknown hobgoblin’s hands fell to twin fighting axes that hung from his belt. “It would be simplest to kill him,” he said.

Munta shook his head. “He may be useful, Haruuc. If the Kech Volaar hate him, he must be good.” Senen whirled to glare at the fat old warlord, but Munta met her gaze without flinching. “Your leaders have already agreed to what must happen, Senen. Accepting extra help makes no difference.”

“Does it matter what I think?”

Everyone looked to Geth. The shifter spoke in the human tongue, but he stood with his hand on Aram, which meant that he had followed every word of the conversation. He faced Haruuc and Senen boldly, his jaw set firmly.

“I’ve been brought halfway across Khorvaire to perform a task I’m told is necessary for the survival of Darguun. I still don’t know what that task is-I haven’t even been acknowledged. But I do know that Midian can fight, and if this task of yours is as dangerous as I think it might be, I want good fighters beside me.” He pointed at Midian. “He lives. Or I take Wrath and leave Darguun.”

An icy chill plunged into Ekhaas’s gut. Senen’s face flushed with new anger. “You wouldn’t-”

“I think he would,” said Haruuc, and the room went quiet. Haruuc looked down at Geth-he was a good two handspans taller than the shifter-and Geth raised his chin to look back up at him. After a long moment, Haruuc bent his head.

“Shii marhu polto huuntad ka ruuska atchot,” he said in Goblin, then spoke in the human language as Geth had. “Even an emperor must think twice when looking a tiger in the eye. You will rarely hear me say this, Geth, but you are right and I apologize. You’ve waited too long to hear what needs to be said. You and Munta have persuaded me. Midian will live.” Senen made a noise of objection, but Haruuc silenced her with a gesture before turning to Midian. “What you do for me, you do in secret. Your library will not hear of it.”

Midian’s features twisted in a kind of agony. “Surely a paper of some kind?” he said. “Maybe with some details altered? I could show it to you before I submitted it to the library.”

“Your life or your silence,” Haruuc said with a heavy finality, and Ekhaas saw Midian’s throat bob as he swallowed.

“No papers,” he agreed.

It was enough for Haruuc. He put his back to the gnome and returned his attention to Geth. “Of the welcomes I’ve made tonight, this is the one that I have anticipated the most. And I regret that it has been delayed. I would welcome you before my court, but I think you understand that I can’t. Still, know that you have my highest respect.” He put his fist to his chest and held it there. “Saa’atcha, Geth, bearer of Aram and hope of Darguun!”