Read Word of Traitors: Legacy of Dhakaan - Book 2 Online
Authors: Don Bassingthwaite
Hobgoblin guards marched Ashi, hands bound behind her back, through a stout door and into a room with high, narrow windows. Sunlight pierced the windows, bright enough to blind her after the darkness of her cell. Fire warmed the room. Carpets cushioned the hard floor and soft chairs waited for her.
Vounn stood across the room, before the fire. Ashi couldn’t hold back a gasp at the sight of her. She pulled away from the guards. “Vounn!”
Her mentor turned, crossed the room in three swift strides—and slapped her hard.
“You fool!” she said, her tone seething. She stormed past her to confront the guards. “Get out!” she said in Goblin. The hobgoblins looked baffled. Vounn flicked a hand at them imperiously. “Get out, I said! Wait outside the door. Where is she going to go?”
The guards glanced at each other, then bent their heads and retreated. They didn’t untie her hands. As the door closed behind them, Vounn whirled on Ashi again and thrust her furious face close.
“We’re being watched,” she whispered. Her voice rose again. “You killed a guard of Khaar Mbar’ost! Explain yourself!”
Ashi blinked. The first words out of her mouth were no act. “I didn’t kill any guard! It was—”
Vounn slapped her again. “You bring shame on Deneith!” she spat, then cried out and pulled Ashi into an embrace like a mother crying over a willful child—and whispered in her ear, “Aruget came to me. He told me what happened. Keep his name out of it.”
Now Ashi understood what she was doing.
Dar
culture was uncomfortable with touching—especially embracing—in public. Any Darguul watching them would more than likely look away at least briefly from this human affectation. They had a few moments of privacy.
There was one question she needed answered more than any other, one thing that had haunted her while she waited in her cell. Only three people knew about their arrangement with Pater d’Orien to transport her away from Rhukaan Draal and could have told Tariic to send a warning to the Orien compound. Vounn had no reason to give her away to Tariic. Pater wouldn’t have sent a warning to himself. That left only one person who could have betrayed her.
“Have you seen Midian?” she asked Vounn.
Maybe Vounn had guessed the same thing. “Yes,” she said without hesitation. “He’s been avoiding me, but I’ve seen him. Tariic has appointed him royal historian.”
Ashi stiffened, rage flashing through her. Vounn held her still. “You look better than I thought you might after three days in a dungeon. Tariic wouldn’t let me see you. Has he questioned you about the Rod of Kings?”
“No,” Ashi said tightly. That was something she didn’t understand. She hadn’t seen Tariic—or Daavn or Makka—since her arrest. Had it really been three days? She’d spent a long time afraid that Tariic might torture her to find out what she knew or that Makka would come seeking his frustrated vengeance. There’d been nothing, only a little food and water shoved through a hatch in the door of her cell. “Where’s Aruget?”
“I don’t know. I only spoke with him once, but he leaves me messages. He knew I was coming here.” She hesitated, then added, “He told me to tell you he’d get you out.” She looked into Ashi’s eyes.
“Don’t go with him.”
Before Ashi could respond, the older woman pushed her away and her voice grew angry again. “You don’t deserve it, but I’m working to have you released and banished rather than executed,” she said, a little loud for the benefit of anyone watching. “House Deneith supports you even if you’ve dishonored it.” Her eyes caught Ashi’s again and she said pointedly, “The negotiations are delicate. We’re risking much, but the evidence against you is weak.”
Ashi blinked again. Vounn still played the same balancing game against Tariic that had kept her free after the coronation. Maybe that was why Tariic hadn’t tried to question her about the rod. Darguun still needed House Deneith and a charge of murder, especially one that couldn’t be proved, wasn’t the same as one of conspiracy. Escaping with Aruget would leave her a fugitive; if Vounn could negotiate her release, she wouldn’t be pursued.
If her negotiations were successful.
Mindful of watching eyes, Ashi bent low. “I don’t deserve this.”
“No,” Vounn said, “you don’t, but our lives belong to Deneith.” She turned and sat down in one of the chairs. “There’s something you might like to know,” she continued casually. “Word has come from Zarrthec. Dagii’s army met a Valenar warclan in battle and defeated them.”
Ashi couldn’t hold back a gasp. “An entire warclan? But they—” She swallowed. “Dagii? Ekhaas?”
“Dagii’s company returns to Rhukaan Draal today. Word comes that Ekhaas travels with him.” Vounn put disdain into the answer, although her eyes were actually bright and warm. She gestured at the windows and Ashi became aware of a distant buzz of activity
somewhere beyond it. “A heroes’ welcome is being prepared. I’ll tell them of your shame.”
Fear knotted Ashi’s belly—not for herself, but for Ekhaas and Dagii. They were walking into a storm of danger. At least Vounn might be able to warn them. She bent her head, trying to make it look like she was suitably dismayed. Vounn raised her voice and called in Goblin. “Guards! I am finished. Take her away.”
The door opened, and the guards returned, laying rough hands on her. Ashi managed a last glance back at Vounn. Her mentor’s face was hard and cold but her lips were pressed together into a thin, pale line of concern.
There were few prisoners left in the larger cells of the dungeon. First the games, then the war, had emptied them. A deeper level of the dungeon held other prisoners. Ashi had heard screams, muffled by distance and stone, more than once while she sat contemplating her own fate. Her gut felt hollow as the guards marched her back through the dungeon, and not just because she was hungry. Could Vounn find a way to have her released or would Tariic finally come and take her down into the deep dungeon? Or would Aruget try to free her and should she let him?
The guards pushed her around a corner into the dead end corridor where her cell and a handful of others—empty—waited, doors half open like pits of shadow.
Something moved suddenly in one of them and a glittering vial of dark glass flew through the air.
It hit the stone floor just in front of Ashi and shattered. At least, she thought it shattered. In the same instant that it struck the stones, light flared from it, blue-white and bright. There was no sound of breaking glass, as if even sound had been overwhelmed by the blinding light. Ashi was certain that she gasped, but she didn’t hear her own voice. She felt the guards’ hands leave her, but heard nothing of them. She felt, rather than saw, a rush of movement. Out of instinct, she jumped back, only to collide with a heavy object. One of the guards. His falling body knocked her off balance. With her hands still tied, she stumbled hard into a wall.
This time she heard herself grunt. Vision and hearing were already returning. Against the fading glare of the bright light, she made out the figure of the second guard flailing helplessly as if at an unseen attacker before abruptly collapsing.
Her first thought was of Aruget—but then a small figure resolved out of the glare.
“Ashi?” asked Midian.
R
age swelled in her and she kicked out at him. “Midian, you double-crossing—!”
“Easy!” The gnome skipped aside, avoiding her kick. He raised his hands, but stayed well out of range. “And be quiet! There are more guards around. I can explain!”
As her vision cleared, Ashi got a better look at the bodies of the guards. The hobgoblins weren’t dead, only unconscious. Strange glass spikes, like small knives with a point but no edge, stuck out of them, expertly thrust through gaps in their light armor into flesh beneath. The points seemed to be hollow, their insides smeared with the remnants of something thick and green-black. Midian followed her gaze, and said, “Bloodspikes. I got them from an inquisitive of House Medani.” He pointed at a patch of dark, shattered glass surrounded by a slick of shimmering fluid. “That was mine. Light to blind, improved with a burst of silence to cover up any sounds. You can tell me I’m clever.”
“You betrayed me!”
“And now I’m rescuing you!” His blue eyes hardened. “What was I supposed to do? Aureon’s quill, you left me out on the roof with Makka! I’m lucky Tariic wanted us taken alive!”
Even through her anger, she winced at the rebuke. Aruget had said Midian could take of himself—and he had—but he was right. They’d left him behind.
Midian was watching her warily, his hand hovering close to a stiff pouch on his waist. Ashi wondered if he had another of the bloodspikes in there. She pushed her fury away and sat up, her
bound hands making the movement awkward.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
“Well, I’m sorry I gave you away—and that I had to wait so long to come for you. Tariic, Daavn, and Makka have been watching me.”
He moved around behind her. Ashi heard him draw a knife and cut at her bonds. “I’ve just seen Vounn. She said Tariic has appointed you royal historian,” she said.
“I thought it would make him trust me so I’d have a chance to get to you,” said Midian. “It didn’t work quite as well as I hoped. I’m here now, though.”
The ropes parted. Ashi stretched her shoulders and rubbed her wrists. So much for worrying whether to wait for Vounn to negotiate a release or go with Aruget when he came to rescue her. She was already rescued and once more a fugitive. “How long will the guards stay unconscious?”
“Long enough, I hope.” Midian stuffed rags into the hobgoblin’s mouths and bound them hand and foot with rope from a coil produced from the cell where he had hidden. “Put them in your cell.”
She did. Even heaving them over her shoulders and dropping them onto the cold floor didn’t disturb their slumber. She pulled the sword belt off one and buckled it around her waist. “Ekhaas and Dagii are returning to Rhukaan Draal today,” she said as Midian closed and barred the cell door.
“I know,” said the gnome. “That’s the reason I was able to get away from Tariic. It’s going to be a shame to miss the party, but it will provide a distraction.”
“We need to warn them.”
He flinched at the idea. “There isn’t time.”
“We make time!” Ashi said, snapping her teeth on the words. “I sat for three days afraid Tariic was going to come and question me about the Rod of Kings. I don’t know why he didn’t, but I don’t want him to have that chance with Ekhaas or Dagii.”
Midian flinched again, and the color drained from his face. “I … uh, I know why Tariic didn’t come for you,” he said.
Ashi looked at him sharply.
He turned his eyes away. “I gave him Geth and Tenquis too.”
“What?”
Ashi stepped back in shock. “How could you—? Wait. You knew where Geth was?”
“I didn’t!” Midian said, his voice rising like that of a protesting child. “After Makka caught me, I tried giving Tenquis’s name to Tariic first. I thought he’d be interested in the artificer who made the false rod, but he wanted more, and that’s when I had to turn you over to him. When Tariic’s men went to arrest Tenquis, they found Geth too. He’d been hiding with him.”
Fear struck Ashi like a cold blade.
“Rond betch
. So Tariic has the true rod?”
“No.” Midian shook his head. “They couldn’t find it at Tenquis’s. Geth must have hidden it.”
“And where’s Geth now?”
Midian held out his hand—and pointed down. Ashi remembered the muffled screams she’d heard from the deeper dungeon. “No,” she breathed. “Do you know how to get down there?”
The gnome nodded. “Back to the main cells and down from there.”
Ashi spun around and raced back up the hall. The stone floors of Khaar Mbar’ost weren’t the soft ground of the Shadow Marches but she could still run silently enough. She burst into the wide room lined with the doors of the large cells.
At the foot of the stairs that led into the dungeon, a hobgoblin guard wearing the red corded armband of Khaar Mbar’ost froze in surprise. Ashi snarled and threw herself at him.
The impact slammed the hobgoblin back against the stairs. The guard got his hands on her wrists, but the wind had been knocked out him and Ashi was stronger. Her fingers closed around his throat even as he sucked in new breath and wheezed—