Word of Traitors: Legacy of Dhakaan - Book 2 (34 page)

BOOK: Word of Traitors: Legacy of Dhakaan - Book 2
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Her gut felt numb. “Geth’s word, but Geth would never betray me or any of us.”

“If Tariic is serious about rooting you out, he may not give Geth a choice.” Vounn closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and put her hands on Ashi’s shoulders. Her voice was tense but not so angry. “If you had attacked Daavn, Tariic would have had a reason to arrest you—you should thank the Host that Aruget stopped you. He had the right of it. Unless he has evidence that you’ve done something wrong, Tariic would be putting himself against Deneith if he tried to take you captive.”

“And if he has a reason to arrest me?” Ashi asked.

“Then I’ll have to give you to him.” Vounn looked into her eyes as she said it. “He won’t want to anger us, but we don’t want to anger him. Deneith values our contracts too highly. You’ve dug yourself a grave, Ashi. We need to get you out of Darguun before you’re forced into it.”

“Abandon my friends or you’ll abandon me?” Ashi gave her a bitter smile. “What if I don’t give Tariic any reason to arrest me? What if Geth doesn’t betray me?” The smile twisted a bit. “What if he escaped Daavn? I’ll have left my friends in danger for nothing.”

“You want to take a chance on that?”

“It’s what you’re doing.” She lifted her chin stubbornly. “My friends took a chance on me once, Vounn. They gave me the strength to leave the Bonetree Clan.”

“Some people would say you repaid that debt by giving yourself up to House Deneith when you had to.”

“Are you one of them?”

Vounn’s lips pressed into a thin white line and she looked away—but anything she might have said was interrupted by a knock on the door and Aruget’s entrance. The hobgoblin must have sensed the tension in the room. His ears flicked. “Should I come back?”

“No,” said Vounn. “Report. What have you found out?”

“I’ve seen Geth,” Aruget said. Ashi’s heart gave a lurch. “He walks with Tariic in the hall of honor in advance of the coronation feast.”

“How did he look? Was he a captive?” Ashi asked.

Aruget shook his head. “He didn’t walk like a captive. He looked uninjured, though he had changed his clothes since the coronation. There was a crowd around Tariic—I didn’t want to get too close.”

“Was Makka—the bugbear from the coronation—there?”

“No.” Aruget hesitated, then added, “I went past Geth’s chamber but there were guards outside his door and I didn’t try to go in.”

“It would have been suspicious if you had,” Vounn said, nodding. “What about Daavn? Did you see him at all?”

“No.”

Ashi stood up. Between her argument with Vounn and Aruget’s news, her blood seemed to boil. Her head felt light. Geth hadn’t been captured—or had he? If it had been anyone else, she might have been afraid that Tariic had used the Rod of Kings to command that they stay by his side, but thanks to his bond with the Sword of Heroes, Geth was immune to the rod’s influence. There had to be some reason he’d stayed with Tariic, though. “I need to talk to Geth. We need to know what happened.”

“Sit down, Ashi.” Vounn’s eyebrows drew together as she thought. “Is it possible that there’s another explanation for what happened at the ceremony? Geth doesn’t like spectacles—and he did seem friendly with Tariic as they left the throne room.”

“At which point he bolted for his room like a rabbit.” Ashi shook her head, teeth clenched. “It’s not my imagination. Something is wrong, Vounn. If I can talk to Geth—”

“You can’t,” Vounn said with a note of finality. “You are going to stay in these chambers while we figure out the status of things.” Ashi started to protest, but her mentor silenced her with a raised finger. “I will grant you that the situation doesn’t seem as dire as I thought. Maybe Geth is on good terms with Tariic and there’s nothing to worry about.”

Ashi saw Aruget’s ears twitch and rise at the hint of trouble.

Vounn ignored him. Lips drawn down at the corners, she said, “You can stay in Darguun for now—at least until we know whether you’re in danger or not. But there are two conditions.” She held up a finger again, then added a second one. “First, don’t give Tariic any reason to take an interest in you. Stay in our chambers
and keep your head down—I’ll pass word that you’re not feeling well—while Aruget and I make a few discreet inquiries. Second, we make arrangements to get you out of Darguun, and when I tell you to leave, you
leave.”

She lowered her hand. “Your friends took a chance on you. You’re taking a chance on your friends, and now so am I. Does that satisfy you?”

It would have been impossible to be completely happy at that moment. Ashi still had too much anger and fear inside her and Vounn’s face was set in spite of her offer of compromise. It was also, Ashi knew, the best aid she could hope for.

She nodded.

The long table in the Cannith dining room had been set with delicate porcelain plates ringed with silver and remarkable goblets of cut glass. The big candelabras that marched down the center of the table were likewise cut glass. The flickering candlelight—no cold, steady magical light here—danced through them. Esmyssa Entar ir’Korran, seated in a special tall chair, leaned between two of the dazzling pillars. “We haven’t seen you in Tariic’s court since the coronation,” the Zil ambassador said.

“I’ve been ill,” said Ashi.

Esmyssa gave an understanding nod. “I’m so glad that you were able to come tonight, though,” she said. “You weren’t in Rhukaan Draal long enough to join one of our dinners before Haruuc sent you off. Then of course, the business with the Gan’duur and mourning afterward. I’m sure you’ll find the evening interesting.”

“I hope so,” Ashi said with a politeness that she didn’t really feel. “Vounn insisted that I make the effort to attend.” She shifted aside slightly as a servant’s arm reached past to place a shallow bowl of soup in front of her. It was creamy, fragrant, and golden. Seated on Ashi’s left, between her and Vounn, Pater d’Orien breathed deep.

“Ah,” he sighed. “Aundairian. Beautiful. Proper food from the Five Nations—not that I have anything against
dar
cuisine, but sometimes you want to sit down with friends over a meal
that reminds you of home. I’m sure you understand what I mean, Senen Dhakaan.”

On the other side of the table, Senen’s ears bent slightly. “More than you know, Lord Pater,” she said. She picked up a spoon and stirred the soup dubiously. “It seems rich.”

“Yes, well, give it a try. I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t like it.”

Senen started to scoop up a little of the soup, then glanced at Dannel d’Cannith, chatting casually with Vounn while the rest of the table was served. The ambassador of the Kech Volaar set her spoon down again and sat back stiffly. Ashi understood her discomfort in the situation—it reminded her strongly of her own first experience with the etiquette of formal dining in the style of the Five Nations. To tell the truth, she preferred
dar
feasts and the fashion of eating as food was presented. But seeing Senen here at all was a surprise. It had taken quite some time for the strongly traditionalist hobgoblin to find common ground to even talk with Vounn. To find her eating with non-Darguuls was a sign that she was opening up a little bit more.

If having Senen there was a surprise, though, it was nothing compared to the other gnome who had stood at Esmyssa’s back when they’d entered the library. Midian now sat at the far end of the table, chattering about Dhakaani history to the half-elf viceroy of House Medani. As they’d passed from the library into the dining room, Ashi had managed to exchange a few words with Midian—a very few words.

“What are you doing here?”

“I suspected you’d be coming, so I talked Esmyssa into bringing me as a guest.”

“Have you seen Geth since—?”

He’d interrupted her, dropping his voice. “We’ll talk later.”

The last guest was served. Dannel d’Cannith picked up her spoon, and everyone at the table began eating. The soup was indeed rich. Pater slurped it up with a look of pleasure on his round, rough face. Ashi watched Senen work through her bowl with the dogged determination of someone set to a chore.

Conversation flowed around Ashi, light and casual. Esmyssa attempted to engage Senen with questions about the ancient history
preserved by the Kech Volaar and the other Dhakaani clans. On Ashi’s right, the envoy of House Vadalis, a lean man named Kavrin, struck up a question about the wildlife of the Shadow Marches. Ashi described the beasts and monsters she had seen as a hunter of the wild swamps, a pleasant distraction as the soup bowls were removed and replaced with fish poached in Brelish stock. Fish gave way to pork roasted and sauced in the Karrnathi style. Ashi kept her eyes and ears alert. Around the meat course, Vounn had said—that was when it would happen.

And, just as she picked up her fork, it did. Seated beside Dannel and across from Vounn, Laren Roole, the ambassador of Breland, leaned a little forward and asked Pater, “How goes the process of supplying Darguun’s army?”

Pater sipped a little wine—Ashi saw abruptly that the servants who had stood behind the table, ready to refill empty glasses, had departed and that only the warforged Stitch remained—and said, “It goes well. Orien has lent an aide to Dagii’s quartermaster and he sends me reports. There was some expectation that the Valenar might attack the supply wagons, but there haven’t been any attacks yet.” He raised his glass. “Pray Kol Korran keeps it so!”

Like the first punch thrown in a brawl, the question changed the tone of conversation around the table. Abruptly Ashi found herself in a bubble. All around her, everyone was talking about the war and Tariic, but perhaps believing that a junior envoy would have nothing to add, no one talked to her. She didn’t dissuade them. Not being talked to gave her a better chance to listen. Esmyssa turned to the Aundairian ambassador on her other side to ask his opinion of the impact of the war on Khorvaire at large; the Aundairian was tight-lipped and grim. Kavrin d’Vadalis discussed the Valenar cavalry capabilities with the Karrnathi ambassador on his right. Senen and Midian both became sought-after partners in the discussion as they related stories and histories of past conflicts between
dar
and elves, sometimes glaring at each other and arguing when what they told clashed. Dannel, Laren, Vounn, and Pater quietly spoke of Tariic’s new power and what he might do with it. In the two days since his coronation, he had divided his time between public appearances and the assembly of warlords, stirring pride in the
Darguuls and whipping up sentiments against the Valenar—and all elves by extension.

A game was in play around the table, with each ambassador and envoy offering up a little bit of what they knew in return for new knowledge form the others. Here and there, hints revealed plans. Vadalis hoped to convince Tariic to purchase their strong and tough magebred mounts for his army. Breland would increase patrols along their side of the Seawall Mountains in case Darguul warlords were stirred up too much, while Karrnath, having more direct experience with the Valenar, wondered if the distracted elves might pull away from their northern territories. Zilargo had hopes that the war would be brief and Tariic would settle into the role of peaceful,
predictable
ruler. Everyone talked about House Lyrandar and Sindra d’Lyrandar’s conspicuous absence from Rhukaan Draal.

“We gather with our own,” Vounn had told Ashi as they’d prepared for the dinner. “We know what we’re doing, we know what we trade. We each bring a thread and from them weave a tapestry none of us could have woven alone. Everyone leaves on even footing.”

And Vounn, Ashi saw quickly, was one of the most able players of the game. She spoke only a little, but listened with intensity, and Ashi felt sure that if a tapestry was being woven tonight, Vounn sat at the loom and threw the shuttle.

Senen, surprisingly, was another able player. She might not have been familiar with the table manners of the Five Nations, but she was surely a veteran of intrigues among the Dhakaani clans. Her ears flicked rapidly back and forth, as if she was listening to several conversations at once. Ashi realized that with a lhesh now on the throne, the Kech Volaar and Darguun might draw closer to an alliance again. Ekhaas had confided in her that Senen suspected that she was involved in something. Ashi wondered if the ambassador could have suspicions of Tariic as well.

Plates were cleared and glasses emptied. A lull fell into the conversation, as if the diplomats had sated their need for information along with their hunger. Ashi saw Dannel give a glance and a nod to Stitch. The warforged stepped out of the room. Dannel smiled at those seated around the table. “Let us adjourn to the library. We have sweet wine and cheese to finish.”

She rose and her guests rose with her, Vounn, however, caught Pater’s hand and held him back as the others left the room. Ashi, waiting for the signal, stayed as well. “Pater,” said Vounn, “I need a favor.”

The eyebrows on Pater’s round face rose slightly. “There are worse things than having House Deneith in your debt.” His voice was pleasant but his gaze was suspicious. “What do you need?”

“I think Baron Breven will recall Ashi to Sentinel Tower in Karrlakton soon. I’ve put him off before, but I don’t think I can delay again. Ashi will have to leave Darguun.”

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