Don Bassingthwaite - World of traitors

“Close your mouth!” Ashi thrust at Pradoor.

Makka beat her sword down and slashed up on the return blow. Ashi pulled back, but the tip of the bright blade sliced through her shirt and drew a thin red line across her belly. She gasped and circled away. Makka turned with her.

Just in time to see Geth racing to her aid. The shifter moved low and fast like an animal, sword at the ready. Makka grinned. More sacrifices for the altar of his vengeance! He braced himself.

Instead of attacking, Geth slid to a stop and took up a position a spear’s length away from Ashi. Now they both threatened him-attack one and he was vulnerable to the other. It was a cold, calculating strategy. The shifter’s eyes were cool and hard.

And wrong. When he’d faced Geth before, on the dais at Tariic’s coronation, his eyes had been hot and alive with barely contained anger. The hobgoblins who had captured Geth had described his fiery, unflinching attacks. He hadn’t held back.

A strangely familiar sense intruded on Makka’s lust for vengeance. A familiar sense, and a memory: Tariic’s introduction of the changeling Ko, wearing Geth’s face but without Geth’s fear.

Ashi was Ashi, but whoever stood ready to attack him was no more Geth than Ko had been.

Pradoor still cackled on his shoulder, but the rhythm of battle was suddenly quiet in Makka’s heart. He stepped back, turning slightly as he went so that his opponents were forced to move with him-and so that the length of the ridge and the slope that faced Rhukaan Draal came into view.

The door of Haruuc’s tomb stood open. They’d been tricked. Ashi, Ekhaas, and the false Geth were only a distraction.

Conflict roiled inside Makka. Ashi and Ekhaas were here on the ridge and vengeance too long denied called out to him. The Fury blessed his hunt. She’d taken him as her own. Vengeance was his sacred duty. But the Rod of Kings lay within the tomb, the key to Tariic’s ambition, the key to new power for Darguun. The key to new strength for the faithful of the Fury and of all the Dark Six.

The age turns.

Makka roared and drove directly between Ashi and the false Geth with a suddenness that brought a screech from Pradoor. He slashed left and right, driving his opponents back with powerful blows, then he was past them and running with long leaping strides across the face of the ridge.

“What are you doing?” Pradoor demanded, her words jolted by every step. “The battle-”

“A trick to get us away from the tomb. The door is open-they’ve come for the rod.”

“You have to stop them!”

“I will.” Makka’s teeth clashed together on a hard landing, but he stayed on his feet and slid down the final slope to the bottom of the stairs before the tomb. He grabbed Pradoor, dragged her from his shoulder, and planted her on the ground, turning her so that she faced the fight on the ridge. “Find some way to guard us.”

A smile creased Pradoor’s wrinkled face. She pushed his hand away, turned milky eyes to the sky, and started to chant.

Makka bounded up the steps to the tomb three at a time. He was at the door of the tomb when he heard a dull drone sweep over the ridge, but he didn’t stop to see what it was. Silent as grease, he slipped into the tomb.

There hadn’t been time for a discussion of strategy as they fled up the ridge, only two quick rules from Aruget. Bring down as many of their enemies as possible-and don’t get caught in an open fight.

Ekhaas heard the power that rang in Makka’s challenge to Ashi, and she knew immediately that Ashi had broken the second rule. Unfortunately, she couldn’t see what was happening. The song that had collapsed the rock wall under one of Daavn’s bugbear workers, tumbling him into the gully below, had also cut off her easy way out. She turned and raced down the other way to a shadowed gap that marked the way into another of the ridge’s broken passages. Had Tenquis’s attempt to open the tomb worked? She could only hope that it had and that the others were already inside, searching for the rod.

Swords clashed somewhere above. Ekhaas twisted around a corner-and stumbled over the body of one of Daavn’s guards. Her sword grated along rock as she caught herself.

On the slope leading up out of this gully, Daavn and his remaining guards stopped and turned back to stare at her. The warlord’s ears went back. “Go!” he ordered the guards. “Help Makka!”

They raced past him and vanished from sight. Daavn stood ready for her, commanding the high ground, his sword held loose and easy. “Sing, duur’kala,” he said. “Something sad. Something for mourning.”

A knife glittered in his hand, held by the blade and ready for throwing.

Ekhaas didn’t hesitate. A song would have brought an attack and Daavn had the advantage of higher ground. She threw herself at him, charging up the slope and sweeping her sword ahead of her, not high but low. At his feet.

The move startled Daavn. He drew back the throwing knife and released it with a snap of his wrist, but the cast was weak and wide. The slim blade rang on rock. Ekhaas’s attack forced him to hop and dance backward. By the time he had the opportunity to strike back, Ekhaas had secure footing even if she was still below him. Daavn’s sword swung down at her; she managed to raise her blade and block it. Metal skittered on metal, and for a moment the blades locked. Daavn’s lips drew back from his teeth.

“You’re not going to stop Tariic,” he said. “He’ll have the true rod.”

He kicked at her chest. Ekhaas felt the shift in his balance through their braced swords and twisted desperately to the side. The kick missed her and in the heartbeat that it took Daavn to recover his balance, she ran past him and up to the top of the slope.

She could see Ashi now, circling Makka and Pradoor with Aruget at her side. Daavn’s guards and the last of the bugbear workers were closing in. A song might scatter them, but first she would have to deal with Daavn-if she could stay away from the warlord’s sword. “How much has Tariic told you about the rod?” she asked him. “Has he told you that it’s cursed?”

“He’s told us that Haruuc didn’t know how to control its power.” Daavn lunged, whirling his blade. Ekhaas twisted aside and tried to reach under his extended arm, but Daavn was faster and closed his stance quickly. He snapped an elbow up, catching her under the chin and sending her staggering back.

The roar that erupted from Makka gave both of them pause. Ekhaas swung around to catch a glimpse of the bugbear charging past Ashi and Aruget, and leaping down the ridge in the direction of the tomb. Fear clenched a fist in her guts. Their distraction had failed.

“Maabet,” cursed Daavn, then shouted orders. “Move in! All of you, move in!”

Ekhaas slashed her sword at his throat.

He blocked her with the ease of a practiced swordsman and forced her back across the ridge with a series of powerful, hammering blows. He smiled the next time they crossed swords.

“Did you know your friend Midian betrayed Ashi and Geth to save his own life?”

She felt him relax a little in anticipation of her surprise. She turned it against him.

“Yes,” she said and jerked her knee up into his groin.

He wore an armored codpiece that left her knee aching, but the force of the blow was still enough to make his ears droop and his eyes open wide. Ekhaas shoved hard against his chest with her free hand and he reeled back.

Right over the edge of a crevice in the ridge. He didn’t even teeter, but just went over. Ekhaas heard his armor strike rock twice as he fell. She whirled and ran to the aid of Ashi and Aruget.

She’d taken perhaps four paces when a dull drone filled the air. She looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound, but it seemed to come from everywhere. Aruget, Ashi, and the guards and workers who had pinned them down broke off their attacks, looking around in confusion.