The Doom of Kings: Legacy of Dhakaan - Book 1 (9 page)

“I was supposed to be at that banquet, too,” said Ashi. She stretched out her legs and tried to settle herself more comfortably on the hard bench. “Were you at the reception ceremony?”

“Yes, at the back of the delegation. It was astounding. The rhythm was perfect.” Her training as a
duur’kala
brought the music back into her memory and she clapped out the desperate rhythm of the climax. “Were you there?”

“I was supposed to be the one performing the sword dance.” Ashi’s mouth twisted. “My mentor decided I wasn’t good enough and sent my instructor out instead. We had an argument about it afterward.”

Ekhaas frowned. “That’s too bad. Tariic would have been even more impressed at having the bearer of the Mark of Siberys dance for him.”

Ashi flung up her hands. “That was the idea!”

“Who’s your mentor?”

“The person Tariic has come to Karrlakton to see.” Ashi sat back again. “Lady Seneschal Vounn d’Deneith.”

Once again, Ekhaas could only stare at Ashi, but this time she had no words. Ashi must have mistaken her silence for incredulity. Her mouth twisted even farther. “Tariic is lucky he only has to deal with her as a diplomat. Since I got here, she’s been hammering on me like a smith on a sword—and there’s nothing I can do about it.” She squeezed her hands into tight fists.
“Rond betch
, if I could stick a knife in her …”

She kept talking, pouring out a litany of restrictions and punishments that Ekhaas had to admit were more appropriate to the training of a child than a grown woman, but the
duur’kala
was only
half-listening. Ideas and possibilities began rearranging themselves in her head. Her ears twitched. Blood of Six Kings, she thought, was it possible they could be so lucky?

There was scarcely a break in Ashi’s rambling tales of Vounn’s heavy-handed mentoring. Ekhaas had to speak over her to get a word in. “Ashi, how bad was the argument you had tonight with Vounn? Will she take you back?”

“Take me back?” Sitting forward, Ashi groaned. “Ekhaas, she’s never going to let me go. I don’t think I’m even a person to her. I’m just an asset of Deneith—or I will be once I’m trained to her satisfaction. Even then she’ll probably still want me under her thumb.” She lifted her head and looked around the cell, then laughed. “You know, I was almost frightened of what she’d do when the watch contacted Deneith and she found out I’d been arrested. Now I wish I could have been there to see the look on her face. I wonder how she reacted.”

Muffled voices from an outer room of the watch station reached Ekhaas’s ears. “I don’t think you’ll have to wait long to find out,” she said. One of the voices was the watch station commander, and it sounded as if the proud man was actually being subservient. The voices were getting closer. Ekhaas turned to Ashi. “Listen to me,” she said. “You need to smooth things over with Vounn. Ease the tension between you. Apologize to her.”

“What? Why—?” Ashi said, then she heard the voices as well. For all her talk of anger and confidence, the color drained from her face and she stood up.
“Betch.”

“Apologize,” Ekhaas hissed, standing with her, then the door of the room beyond the cell opened—and Ekhaas felt the heat fade from her cheeks, too.

The station commander was the first one through the door, followed by four humans armed with spears and wearing the crest of House Deneith on polished breatsplates. After them came Vounn d’Deneith. The lady seneschal wore a fine gown, too fine to be marching through a watch station. She’d probably come straight from the banquet.

After Vounn, and dressed just as magnificently, came Tariic. He’d put aside the spiked armor he’d worn for the reception ceremony,
replacing it with a high-collared doublet of black leather stitched so heavily with bronze it could have turned a blow. Heavy bracers and high greaves on his boots were likewise Darguul in style, but Tariic had added a long, full-sleeved Karrnathi coat that swirled behind him.

Four hobgoblins, members of his honor guard, followed Darguun’s emissary, but Ekhaas hardly noticed them. Vounn’s face was a dispassionate mask. Ekhaas could read no emotion in it at all. Tariic also aspired to present an emotionless mask, but he didn’t succeed nearly as well as Vounn. His skin, naturally a rich red-brown, was tinted an even brighter red by suppressed anger. His jaw was clenched so tight the muscles stood out and his dark eyes focused on empty air rather than look at her. His ears were most telling, however, standing straight and stiff.

Vounn glanced at the station commander. “Thank you. I’ll call when we’re ready.” The man nodded and left the room. One of the Deneith guards followed and took up a position outside the door, presumably to be certain no one tried to eavesdrop, before closing it. Tariic, however, was the first to speak to the prisoners.

“Ekhaas of Kech Volaar,” he said, “you dishonor our hosts by stealing from them. You dishonor me, and you dishonor my uncle. You dishonor your clan, and you dishonor Darguun.” He spoke with admirable restraint—and in the human language, obviously for the benefit of Ashi and Vounn. Heat returned to Ekhaas’s face, and she surprised herself by feeling vaguely ashamed. In her mind, she knew she actually had very little to fear—Tariic couldn’t afford to mistreat her—but in her gut she still felt guilt. Stealing the reliquary while in Karrlakton as a guest of House Deneith, even if she was only part of a larger group, broke ancient laws of hospitality. It reflected badly on Tariic as the leader of the delegation and, through him, badly on Lhesh Haruuc.

On the other hand, he probably had no idea what was inside the small casket. She wanted to argue with him and point out that the reliquary of Duural Rhuvet was an important part of their heritage. At the very least, she should correct his galling statement that she had dishonored her clan. She’d done no such thing. If she’d brought the reliquary back to Volaar Draal, the
stronghold of the Kech Volaar, she would have been honored as a hero and a protector of Dhakaan’s glory. Shame turned to anger— and she swallowed both emotions. There were larger and more important things she needed to tell Tariic.

She looked down and away, her ears bent in contrition.
“Sit gath’muut chib-rhu,”
she said.
I am without honor in this, high one
. Formality demanded that the apology be spoken in Goblin, but Ekhaas was fairly certain that Ashi and Vounn would understand the spirit of her words.

Tariic gave a little grunt of approval—approval that turned to a flicker of surprise when Ekhaas raised her gaze just enough to meet his again and twitched her ears twice sharply. A simple signal,
be alert
. Tariic’s eyes widened, but there was no change in the tone of his voice. “I’m not the only one you should apologize to,” he said.

Ekhaas, her head down once more, turned to Vounn. “I’m sorry for any trouble or embarrassment I’ve caused you, Lady Seneschal. Please don’t think less of Tariic or Lhesh Haruuc because of my actions.”

“I welcome your apology,” said Vounn coolly. Ekhaas noticed that nothing in her voice or her stance implied that she actually accepted the apology, though.

Clever, the
duur’kala
thought, she leaves the incident open. She could still come back at us with demands for something more than an apology. In spite of Ashi’s complaints about her mentor, Ekhaas felt a grudging respect for the older woman’s guile.

Vounn’s attention had turned to Ashi, who met her gaze with unbowed sullenness. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said. “I tried to stop a thief.”

Ekhaas held back a wince. Just apologize, Ashi, she thought.

Vounn looked at Ashi with the cold but focused expression of a snake about to strike. “And in the process devastated a respected memorial, desecrated an altar of the Sovereign Host, and were arrested. You should have summoned the watch and let them deal with it. You haven’t just embarrassed Deneith in front of our guests from Darguun, you’ve embarrassed yourself and Deneith in front of Karrlakton and the other dragonmarked houses. Do you realize that stories about this are already circulating in taverns?”
She looked to Tariic and added, “I’m sorry you have to see this. Discipline in Deneith is usually conducted in private.”

Tariic nodded graciously, but Ekhaas’s ears flicked in something between outrage and appreciation: outrage at Vounn for dragging Ashi through briars, appreciation for her expert manipulation of the situation. She very much doubted that stories of Ashi’s misadventure had actually found their way into taverns just yet—or even if they would. Likewise, she would have been surprised if details of the night’s events would reach other dragonmarked houses without being significantly altered. She had no doubt, however, that Vounn was not in the least sorry to have Tariic witness the confrontation. It showed him that she both understood the importance of honor and was willing to deal swiftly with disobedience from those in her command—both valued traits in the culture of Darguun. The lady seneschal’s reputation as a master diplomat was, it seemed, well-earned.

Ashi looked as if she was ready to burst. Her face had turned red except for a thin white line where she pressed her lips together. For a long moment, she just glared at Vounn, then, with a sharp glance sideways at Ekhaas, her lips parted and she said, “I’m sorry.”

Vounn raised her eyebrows, less in surprise, Ekhaas suspected, than as a prompt, and Ashi expanded on her apology. “I’m sorry I didn’t call the watch. I’m sorry I’ve embarrassed you and Deneith. I’m sorry I didn’t go to the banquet tonight and that I left Sentinel Tower.” There was no grace in the apology, but Ashi managed to make it sound at least partly sincere. She even turned to Tariic and mimicked Ekhaas’s words to Vounn. “I’m sorry for any trouble I’ve caused you. Please don’t think less of Vounn or House—”

“Thank you, Ashi,” said Vounn. “That’s enough. I don’t think you’ve caused any trouble to Tariic.” She nodded to Haruuc’s emissary and for the first time, Ekhaas saw some of her charm slip through the dispassionate mask. Once again, she was amazed by Vounn. She’d backed Tariic into a corner. If he protested, Vounn could point out that it had been Ekhaas who really committed the crime of breaking into the memorial. All he could do was …

“It has been no trouble,” Tariic said. “I apologize to you, Vounn. Allow me to pay for the repairs to the memorial.”

“That isn’t necessary, Tariic. The repairs are likely to be expensive. House Deneith can cover them.”

Tariic’s ears twitched back. “Darguun will pay,” he insisted.

Vounn smiled. “The honor of the Darguuls speaks for itself.”

Khaavolaar
, Ekhaas thought. She wondered if Tariic realized that Vounn had just had him agree to restore a memorial commemorating a Deneith victory over the ancestors of Darguun. The lady seneschal was already gesturing for one of her men. “Fetch the station commander,” she said. “Have him bring the keys to cell. We’re ready to leave.”

Their release was accomplished quickly. For all of the station commander’s bluster that House Deneith was treated the same as anyone else under the law, it took only a few words from Vounn to get them out of the cell and any mention of the night’s incident removed from the station’s log books. Ashi’s sword was returned to her, but there was no sign of the dagger Ekhaas had carried into the memorial. She supposed it was still there, lost in the shadows and indistinguishable from the much older weapons scattered during their fight.

Nor was there any sign of the reliquary. Ekhaas felt its loss more keenly. She was fairly certain that the station commander must have given it to Vounn, but the lady seneschal betrayed nothing. If it was in her possession, at least it was safe. Ekhaas kept her mouth closed. They were too close to getting away to worry about the reliquary for the moment. She and Ashi walked out of the watch station side by side behind Tariic and Vounn. Ekhaas managed to sneak a reassuring glance at her friend—though Ashi looked more bad-tempered than reassured—then they were separated as Tariic and Vounn bid each other good night. Two carriages waited outside the watch station. Vounn and Ashi got into one, Tariic and Ekhaas into the other. Their various guards fell in behind.

The interior of the carriage was dark, but the lack of light only drained color from hobgoblin vision. As the carriage jerked into motion, Tariic fell back into the seat and let the tight control slip from his face.
“Maabet!”
he spat, lapsing into Goblin. “What are you playing at, Ekhaas? This isn’t going to help our mission. What were you thinking?”

Ekhaas stayed sitting upright. “I thought that I was rescuing a part of our people’s heritage,” she said. “I wouldn’t have been caught. If it had been anyone else, I could have stopped them and got away, but Ashi’s Siberys Mark of Sentinel resists most of my magic—”

“A Siberys Mark?” Tariic sat up. “Is that what you were trying to warn me about? Vounn didn’t mention her charge carried a Siberys Mark.” He frowned. “I remember your tale of the Shadow Marches and the mad dragon. If she carries the Siberys Mark, then isn’t she … ?”

“She’s my friend.” Ekhaas met Tariic’s gaze. “And Geth’s friend, too—and now she’s become Vounn’s charge. That’s why I signaled you. I didn’t want you to insult her or get her into more trouble.”

Tariic looked at her for a moment, then sat back. “Vounn’s charge and Geth’s friend. This … could be useful.”

Ekhaas nodded. “That’s what I thought.”