The doom of Kings

CHAPTER SEVEN

The official meetings between the delegation from Darguun and House Deneith carried on for another week. While Ekhaas watched for Ashi, she didn’t see her again. Vounn was, of course, at every meeting, from the most mundane to the purely ceremonial. Ekhaas suspected that she was deliberately keeping Ashi in seclusion, maybe as a way of venting her frustration at being forced into bringing her charge to Haruuc’s court. The lady seneschal’s frustration showed at the meeting tables too. Every draft agreement that came before her was negotiated as if it were the Treaty of Thronehold or as if Vounn were not about to depart for a position where she would have Haruuc’s ear and the ability to influence any dispute that might arise. Tariic said nothing about it, however, so neither could Ekhaas, stuck at the back of any gathering of delegates as she was. Officially nothing more than a representative of the interests of the Kech Volaar in Tariic’s delegation, her lips were sealed and her hands tied.

Of Haruuc’s invitation to Vounn, nothing more was said. For all that Vounn revealed, the small scroll might never have been delivered. Ekhaas felt like she might chew a hole in her table as she waited through meeting after meeting. On the next to last day before they were due to leave Karrlakton, Tariic, Vounn, and Baron Breven d’Deneith, patriarch of the house, emerged from a private discussion to make the grand announcement that Vounn would become Deneith’s envoy to the court of Lhesh Haruuc Shaarat’kor. The excitement that swept Sentinel Tower was astounding. Within an hour, the Darguuls of Tariic’s party went from being looked upon with suspicion to being greeted as allies. Ekhaas overheard more than one conversation declaring Vounn would be remembered as the new Jannes d’Deneith, responsible for bringing even greater wealth and influence to the House.

There was no word of whether Ashi would be joining Vounn, though. As soon as she had a chance, Ekhaas slipped up behind Tariic as he mingled at a reception. She didn’t even need to ask the question-as soon as she caught Tariic’s eye, he nodded and mouthed, “She’s coming,” before turning away to chat with some Karrn junior underminister of harvests. Ekhaas felt as if a yoke had been lifted from her shoulders.

Or at least as if one yoke had been lifted. Others still weighed her down, and they’d still be there through another week.

The Darguuls departed Karrlakton on the twenty-second day of the month of Lharvion with as much spectacle and ceremony as when they had arrived. They formed up in a courtyard near one of Sentinel Tower’s wide gates, and Ekhaas finally caught a glimpse of Ashi. Her friend, shrouded again in her ever-present scarf, stood quietly behind Tariic and Vounn. After a pretty speech by Breven d’Deneith, the trio climbed into an open carriage. To the cheers of House Deneith, their procession-led by House guards from Sentinel Tower marching alongside a unit of the Karrlakton watch-paraded out into the city and through the streets toward the ship that waited in the harbor. As they went, increasing numbers of people came out to stare at the goblins, hobgoblins, and bugbears with their flashing armor and thunderous war music. The tigers of the cavalry probably would have drawn even more awestruck excitement from the crowd, but they had already been taken down to the ship, along with any baggage, during the quiet of the night. At some point the crowd of city-dwellers began cheering Tariic as well, and he waved at them from his carriage. They likely, Ekhaas suspected, had no idea whom they were cheering for, but they cheered anyway.

At the harbor, more officials of Deneith and even some of Karrlakton waited to make more farewell speeches. Tariic and Vounn stood to accept them while soldiers and councilors shifted with poorly disguised impatience. Eventually, however, they were all on board the ship and lines were being cast off. The ship’s captain, a half-elf of House Lyrandar, called hands to stations, then gripped the ship’s wheel. From where she stood on the deck, Ekhaas saw a look of concentration cross his face as he invoked the dragonmark of his house. The morning air stirred in response and the sails of the ship filled. They began to move, and Karrlakton fell away behind them.

The first part of their journey lay west along the long arm of Scion’s Sound that formed the border between Karrnath and what had once been Cyre but was now only the Mournland, blasted and cursed in the final days of the Last War. The captain kept his ship as close to the Karrnathi coast as possible without grounding her, but the arm of the sound was narrow and the unmoving bank of dead gray mist that cloaked the Mournland loomed over them. From time to time, weird cries and howls echoed out of the mist, provoking answering snarls from the tigers caged below deck. More substantial and threatening things had been known to emerge from the mists, and every Darguul soldier on the ship stood at the rail, eyes on the mist, ears raised, hands on weapons.

Ekhaas stood with them, all the tales of the Mournland that she’d ever heard running through her mind. When a quiet footfall came on the deck behind her, she barely noticed it. When Ashi whispered her name, she all but jumped. “Khaavolaar!”

“Sorry,” said Ashi. “Can I join you?”

She’d changed, Ekhaas noted, out of the formal robes she’d worn in the carriage and into clothes like those she’d worn the night they’d encountered each other at the memorial. Her scarf was loosened to show her face, and her sword was on her hip. She was ready to fight if necessary.

“Does Vounn know you’re up here?” Ekhaas asked her.

“She’s in her cabin,” said Ashi. It didn’t really answer the question, but Ekhaas suspected it was as close to “no” as Ashi was willing to go. She made room for Ashi at the rail, and for a time they watched in silence as the mist glided past.

Eventually Ashi spoke. “You lied,” she said. “Haruuc hasn’t asked to see me.”

They were the words Ekhaas had been expecting-and dreading-for the last week. She’d known Ashi would figure out the flaw in their plan sooner or later. Her ears folded back and she said, “He was curious about you when he heard my story of Dah’mir and the Master of Silence. He did say he’d like to meet the bearer of a Siberys Mark.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Have you told Vounn?”

Ashi turned and looked at her. “If I’d told Vounn, do you think I’d be here? She hasn’t let me out of the inner halls of Sentinel Tower for the last week, though, or I would have asked you about it before this. What’s going on?”

Ekhaas didn’t want to lie to her friend, but she couldn’t tell her the truth. Not yet. Fortunately, Vounn’s stubbornness had given her time to work out what she could say. “Do you want to go to Darguun?”

“Blood in your mouth, yes! You know I was going mad stuck in Sentinel Tower.” Her eyes narrowed. “You didn’t do this just to give me a chance to get out, did you? You couldn’t have-you had Tariic working with you.” She paused for a moment as she thought, then added, “You’re not just here as a representative of your clan.”

Ekhaas cursed silently. Ashi could be uncommonly perceptive sometimes. She stuck with what she had planned to tell her, though. “Ashi, finding you in Karrlakton was an opportunity that Tariic and I couldn’t let pass. Having you here is important, or we wouldn’t have used Haruuc’s name to make sure it happened. We’ll explain soon, though. By the Blood of Six Kings, you have my word on it.”

Ashi grimaced. “How soon?”

“Soon. That’s all I can say.”

Breath hissed between Ashi’s teeth. “I trust you, Ekhaas. I don’t like not knowing what’s happening, but I trust you. I am really going to Darguun, aren’t I?”

“You’re really going to Darguun,” Ekhaas said with a smile. “And you will really meet Haruuc, too. We may have lied to get you there, but I promise that he’ll be happy to see you.”

“Good.” Ashi started to turn away, then looked back. “Is his invitation for Vounn to join his court real or is it a lie, too?”

“It’s real.”

Ashi grimaced again. “Too bad.”

The arm of the sound opened up late the following afternoon, and they sailed beyond sight of the gray mist of the Mournland. The mood on the ship lightened immediately, at least for the soldiers and crew. Ekhaas found herself exchanging glances with Tariic almost every time they passed each other. The time when they would have to reveal the whole truth of their visit to Sentinel Tower was approaching.

On the fourth day out from Karrlakton, they made harbor at Flamekeep in the nation of Thrane and the first leg of their journey was over. Officials wearing tabards with the silver crest of flame and sword boarded the ship to inspect their credentials. The ship’s captain and crew, Vounn, and Ashi were left largely alone while the officials focused their attention on the Darguuls. They’d had the same experience on their initial voyage to Karrlakton. Ekhaas held her tongue with difficulty, but she could see that even Tariic had little patience for the Thranes’ probing questions.

Eventually the officials ran out of reason to delay them, but there was one final indignity they could inflict. A squad of soldiers was summoned, and the delegation that had been cheered in Karrlakton was escorted under guard, packs on their shoulders and caged tigers on hand-drawn wagons, through the streets of Flamekeep to their destination at the lightning rail station.

Ekhaas’s ears quivered with fury as she marched. “Incredible,” she snarled at Ashi, walking beside her. “Once we ruled an empire that spanned this continent, and now we have to fight to be recognized as a nation by these… these…”

“Chaat’oor?” Ashi offered.

“Chaat’oor!” Ekhaas said.

To one side of the street, a stick-thin merchant raised her voice as if offering her opinions as much to the Darguuls as to the other Thranes around her. “Darguun? A nation of goblins? What filth! Flame forgive me, but you can’t civilize the uncivilized-Treaty of Thronehold be damned!”

A murmur of anger rose from the Darguuls who had heard and understood the comment. Ekhaas bared her teeth. “Uncivilized?” she said, her voice rising. “Maabet, the vaults of the Kech Volaar hold records and artifacts of a civilization that was old when your ancestors were splashing around in boats trying to get here!”

Ashi took Ekhaas’s arm, urging her onward. “You’re going to start a brawl. You know not every human thinks of goblins that way, Ekhaas.”

It was all Ekhaas could do not to shake her friend’s hand off. “Really? Did you ever wonder where that word or where the names you call our races come from? Before humans came to Khorvaire, we called ourselves dar-the people. Hobgoblins were ghaal’dar, the mighty people. Bugbears-what kind of name is that? — were guul’dar, the strong people. Goblins were golin’dar, the quick people.” Her ears bent down. “And they were the ones that humans met first. Your people mistook the name of our smallest race for the name of our entire people, and they didn’t even get that right. Now many of us use your names for our three races instead of our own. Even I do it!”

She gave a bitter little laugh. The rant and the admission left her feeling drained. Ashi patted her shoulder awkwardly. “You know,” she said as they turned a corner and the lightning rail station came into sight, “if I’m going to be in Darguun, I should learn to speak more of your language. Ghaal’dar, guul’dar, golin’dar… does ‘Darguun’ mean something in Goblin?”

“The land of the people.”

“Does Darguul mean the same thing as guul’dar then?”

Ekhaas laughed again, but this time with genuine humor, and stood straight. “No. It just means someone from Darguun.”

“Ah,” said Ashi.

The duur’kala smiled. “And do you remember back in the watch station, when you said shaat’aar instead of chaat’oor?”

Ashi nodded.

“A shaat’aar is a kind of sweet bun with honey cream in the middle. They’re different.”

Above her scarf, Ashi’s eyes lit up with a smile. “I’ll say.” She jerked her head back in the direction of the arrogant merchant. “I’ll bet she hasn’t had honey cream in her middle in a long time.”

Ekhaas’s laugh was so loud it brought the Thrane guards’ heads-and Tariic’s and Vounn’s-around. Ekhaas, still chuckling, just waved at them.

Fortunately, the members of House Orien who were the staff and crew of the lightning rail system found a customer’s money more important than their race. As soon as the soldiers of Thrane had delivered their charges, the station master saw to it that Tariic, Vounn, Ashi, and the other important members of the delegation were settled in the station’s private lounge while water and food were brought for the common soldiers. Tariic had rented three private lightning rail carts on the northward journey and left them at the station for the return trip. While these were brought back around to wait for the next coach running south, the station master apologized profusely for their rude treatment at the hands of the port officials, insisting that House Orien would lodge a complaint.

They were enjoying a lunch of spicy Thrane cuisine when the shriek of a whistle signaled the arrival of a lightning rail coach. Flamekeep was the terminus of the line; the coach would reverse direction for the journey back south. Not long after the scream of the whistle, the coach came into the station, sliding grandly past the windows of the lounge. The distinctive humped shape of the crew cart was first, fins along its side still cracking with the power of the bound elemental that drove the rail. Passenger carts with eager faces pressed to the window and sealed cargo carts followed, the whole gradually slowing until it came to a stop with a last crackling sigh of dissipating energy. Within moments, the station was filled with passengers disembarking and porters rushing to unload cargo.

The station master appeared again. “We’ll connect your carts as soon as the train is unloaded. The coach departs again at the seventh bell this evening, but you’ll be able to board your carts whenever you wish.”

There seemed to be a consensus among the delegation that they would prefer to wait several hours on board the cart rather than go back into the city. Ekhaas was certainly in agreement. Besides which, the carts-or at least the cart that Tariic had hired for himself and the other senior members of the delegation-were remarkably comfortable. When the time did finally come to board, she heard Ashi gasp as she climbed up into the cart.

“By Kol Korran’s golden bath, this is amazing!”

“Stop staring, Ashi,” said Vounn, pushing past. “You look like a peasant in a cathedral.”

Ashi didn’t stop staring, and Ekhaas couldn’t blame her. The interior of the cart was as luxurious as a fine House Ghallanda inn, with thick carpets, soft couches, and cabinets of books and good wine. “Didn’t you travel to Karrlakton on the lightning rail?” Ekhaas asked.

“Not like this,” said Ashi.

“We travel as representatives of Darguun,” Tariic said. “The lords of any other nation would travel in the same way. To accept less would only confirm everything people like that merchant say about us.”

Other passengers on the southbound coach appeared over the course of the afternoon, settling into the passenger carts or waiting in the terminal until the coach was ready to depart. Together with Ashi, Ekhaas wandered the platform, peering into the other coaches and resolutely ignoring the hostile glares that many of the Thrane passengers directed at her. The Darguul soldiers had been settled into the two other private carts hired by Tariic. They traveled in far more modest conditions than the senior members of the delegation, especially the cavalry riders who shared a cart with their tiger mounts and the delegation’s baggage. The great tigers dozed in their cages. Ashi studied them with a healthy respect, going right up to the bars before stepping back.

“I wouldn’t want to face one of those in the middle of a battle,” she said. She looked around. “There’s a lot of room still in this cart. Couldn’t Tariic have hired one less?”

“The tigers need space,” Ekhaas lied. “No one wants to sleep too near a cage.” So close and still not able to tell Ashi the truth! She gestured. “We should go back to our cart. It’s almost time for the coach to depart.”

Precisely at the seventh bell in the evening, the elemental bound to the crew cart snapped and crackled into activity. Leaning out the window of their cart, Ekhaas and Ashi saw the ring of lightning that was the manifestation of the elemental’s power spitting and hissing around the crew cart. A shudder ran through the entire coach. On the platform, the station agent blew a last piercing whistle to signal that all passengers were aboard. The crew answered with a shriek from the coach’s whistle. As smooth as milk poured from a pitcher, the carts of the coach began to move, sparks of lightning arcing between their undersides and the conductor stones laid out in a straight path below. They moved slowly at first, and the evening lights of Flamekeep crept by, but as the coach left the city behind, it gathered speed until they were fairly flying through the falling night.

They would take it, Ekhaas knew, all the way to Sterngate near the border of Breland and Zilargo, the homeland of the gnomes, before transferring to horses for the final journey to Rhukaan Draal-the lightning rail would carry them four times the distance of that final leg in only a quarter of the time.

But there would be, she knew as well, one interruption to their journey.

The first stop on the line south of Flamekeep was the city of Sigilstar, and when they arrived there in the middle of the next morning, Tariic summoned a station agent. “Have our carts disconnected from the coach,” he said. “We’ll stay overnight and take the morning coach tomorrow.”

The station agent nodded and left. Vounn-and most of the senior Darguuls-looked at Tariic with puzzled expressions. The lady seneschal of Deneith, however, gave voice to their curiosity. “Why the delay?”

“We’re waiting for someone,” Tariic said. His gaze took in all of them. “Stay close to the carts. Someone pass that order to soldiers, too. No one is to go wandering off.”

The Darguul carts were pulled out of the coach and towed by a small work cart off down a side line in the lightning rail yard. The day was hot, and the motionless carts rapidly grew warm in the sun. The distractions offered by the cart, well-stocked though it was, faded quickly and the members of the delegation were reduced to sitting around fanning themselves. Like the tigers in their cages, Ashi fell into a languid doze. Tariic and Vounn retreated to the private compartments that their rank afforded them. Ekhaas wished she could do the same, but the best she could manage was to sit in a sliver of the meager shade outside the cart and hope for a wind. Some of the Darguuls begged her for a tale from her store as a duur’kala to pass the time, and she put in a half-hearted effort. Inspired by the reliquary in her pack, she gave them a story of Duural Rhuvet and his battles against the nomadic halfling tribes that had harried the edges of the Dhakaani Empire as it faded into the lean centuries of the Desperate Times. Her enthusiasm grew in the telling of the tale, though, and when the story was over, she gave her audience another, then another, eating up the day. The soldiers lifted their ears to listen as well, and she told more tales, this time of the heroes of Dhakaan at its height-Kamvuul Norek, the slayer of illithids; Moorn Basha, who sang an island out of the sea; and Duulan Kuun, the first of the name Kuun and the hero who founded a line of heroes.

Night had fallen when she folded her hands and spoke the traditional words that finished the legends of Dhakaan, “Raat shan gath’kal dor.” The story stops but never ends.

Her audience of soldiers and councilors-the entire Darguul delegation, in fact-sat in silence for a moment longer, then rose in twos and threes and began to drift away, back to their places in the carts. Ekhaas let out her breath and allowed herself a smile. Enraptured silence was one of the greatest tributes a duur’kala could hope for.

“I can see why my uncle seeks an alliance with the Kech Volaar,” said a voice from above her. Ekhaas twisted around to find Tariic leaning out of the open window of his compartment. “That was stirring.”

Ekhaas’s ears flicked. “We both know your uncle wants more than tales from the Kech Volaar.”

“True, but I wouldn’t underestimate the power of a good story, either.” He nodded across the yard in which the carts had been left. Ekhaas turned and looked. In the direction he’d indicated stood three grubby goblins, wavering back and forth as if uncertain whether to approach. They weren’t Darguuls. Ekhaas guessed that they must have been inhabitants of Sigilstar, probably employed at the lightning rail station in some menial job. She glanced over her shoulder to say something more to Tariic, but he had already left the window. She looked back to the three goblins and beckoned to them.

They came forward like nervous supplicants. The boldest of them dropped down to his knees in front of her, gesturing for the other two, maybe his sons, to do the same. “Thank you,” he said to her. “It’s been a long time since I heard anything so exciting.” He spoke Goblin with a distinctly human accent. “We can’t pay you for what we heard, but we want you to have these.”

He held out a dirty cloth on which were piled three greasy bundles. Ekhaas’s nose twitched at the smell of food. The bundles were likely the goblins’ dinners. “You don’t have to do that,” she said. “I don’t need to be paid.”

The bold goblin looked at her, then at the bundles. He didn’t lower the cloth. “They say you should always pay what something’s worth. My Tunee, most people say she makes the best goblin food in Sigilstar. I think these might make a start at paying for your stories.”

“Won’t you be hungry tonight?”

“Your stories filled us up, chib,” said one of the other two, his big ears perking up.

Ekhaas smiled and took the bundles but returned the cloth. “I’ll remember your kindness,” she said.

The three goblins grinned as if one of the heroes from her stories had just come to life and thanked them. They stood up, dusted off their britches, and scampered back toward the lightning rail station, all the time grinning like fools. Ekhaas shook her head as she watched them go, then turned back to the cart.

Ashi crouched by the door, watching her. Ekhaas gave her a mock scowl and switched back to the human tongue. “I’m getting tired of people coming up behind me!”

“Sorry,” said Ashi. “I was just waiting for you to finish. Those must have been some stories. I wish I could have followed them all.”

“We need to start on your Goblin lessons then. Why don’t we begin with food?” Ekhaas passed one of the greasy bundles to her.

They climbed up onto the roof of the cart, the better to catch the evening breeze. Four moons had risen above the horizon, casting enough light for Ashi to see what she was eating. Ekhaas, of course, could see the contents of the bundles with no difficulty, and as they were unwrapped, she taught Ashi the names for the food within and for the words associated with eating. The goblin had been right: His wife did make good food. The bundles contained chewy sausages pickled with bitter herbs, big steamed dumplings of starchy noon mash, eggs boiled in broth, and-to Ekhaas’s surprise and Ashi’s delight-tiny but sweet shaat’aar. They ate them all, sharing the third bundle between them, then sat and watched as a fifth moon, pale yellow Nymm, rose low in the southeast and began to climb up against the bright haze of the Ring of Siberys.

“The thing that you can’t tell me about,” Ashi said into the silence. “It’s happening tonight, isn’t it? That’s why we’ve stopped here.”

“It’s supposed to happen tonight. We hope it happens tonight.”

“And you still can’t tell me anything more?”

Ekhaas shook her head. “No, not yet. But soon, I promise.”

Out by the wall that surrounded the lightning rail yard, something moved. It was too far away for even Ekhaas to see clearly, but there was, for an instant, a brief eclipsing of the lights from the city over the top of the wall. Just a flicker. It might have been nothing at all. Ekhaas’s breath caught in her throat, though, and she paused, watching.

“Ekhaas?” asked Ashi softly. She was alert and tense, staring after Ekhaas into the darkness. Her hand was on her sword. “Is something wrong?”

The flicker came again-and kept coming. One after another, dark bodies swarmed over the wall, caught briefly by the dim light before dropping again into shadow. Ashi whispered a curse and started to rise. Ekhaas grabbed her arm and held her down.

“Don’t move,” she said.

Ashi froze and sank back down into a crouch. Ekhaas crept to the edge of the cart and peered into the yard. Everything was as motionless and quiet as before, the silence broken by murmurs from the soldiers as they played some game and by crews laboring around the station. Beyond about twenty paces, she could see nothing more than Ashi, but the colorless nightvision of her people cut through the closer shadows. She watched and waited for the first hint of movement. The moment stretched out…

Then they were there, not just at the edge of her vision, but slipping out from behind another stationary lightning rail cart parked in the yard, so close that even Ashi could see them. Ekhaas heard her draw a sharp breath. She came close to gasping as well, and she had been expecting this.

A dozen black-clad goblins flowed through the moonlight like rats or ferrets.

“Who are they?” Ashi whispered.

“Shaarat’khesh and taarka’khesh,” said Ekhaas. “Goblins of the Silent Clans.”

“The assassins?”

“When they need to be.”

Sentries posted outside the delegation’s carts looked studiously away. The goblins went to the third cart, the one that carried the tigers and that, as Ashi had observed, seemed so empty. One of them tapped a soft rhythm on the cargo door. A moment later, the door slid open and the goblins of the Silent Clans vanished into the cart. The door closed and they might never have been there at all, except for one goblin who remained outside-and looked up at Ekhaas and Ashi with glittering eyes in a dark stained face. They’d been seen. The goblin pointed at Ashi, his eyebrows and ears lifting in an unspoken question. Ekhaas nodded. The goblin turned back to the cart from behind which he and the others had emerged. He beckoned.

Another figure stepped into the moonlight, a shifter with a pack over one shoulder and the heavy shape of a hobgoblin sword at his side. Ashi started. “Geth?” she said, then “Geth!”

Before Ekhaas could say anything or even move, Ashi was on her feet and clambering down to the ground. Below, Geth stared, then ran to meet her. Ekhaas closed her eyes for a moment and let out a sigh of relief before climbing down the ladder as well. Inside the cart, the rest of the delegation was stirring in curiosity at the commotion outside. Ekhaas heard Tariic telling them to be calm and to remain in the cart.

He emerged just as she reached the ground. “So he’s here,” he said. “They found him.”

“Did you doubt it?” Ekhaas asked.

“I sometimes doubted that they’d bring him in alive.”

Ekhaas couldn’t say anything to that. The same fear had nagged at her. She turned away and went to her friends, grateful that death hadn’t been a necessity.

Ashi was talking more than Geth was, spilling her reasons for being in Sigilstar with a delegation of Darguuls and asking after him seemingly in the same breath. “What are you doing here? Where have you been? Where are Singe and Dandra?”

“Bear and Boar!” said Geth. “One question at a time! I wasn’t expecting to find you here either.” He pulled himself away from Ashi and gestured to the black-clad goblin who still stood by the lightning rail cart. “This is Chetiin. He’s an elder of the taarka’khesh. Him and his people found me in Lathleer in Aundair. We almost fought until Chetiin explained why they’d come looking for me.”

Chetiin bent his head to Ashi. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes lingered on the lines of the dragonmark that patterned her face. She bent her head in return, but Ekhaas saw her self-consciously tug her scarf into place as she looked back to Geth. “What were you doing in Aundair? How did they find you?”

Ekhaas raised her voice. “I told them where to look,” she said. Both shifter and human turned to her. She held her ears proudly stiff and reminded herself she’d done nothing wrong. “It’s good to see you again, Geth.”

Ashi and Geth both spoke at the same time, Geth greeting her with the same respect, Ashi staring and spitting out, “You? You knew he was coming? Khyberit gentis, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” said Ekhaas. “I-”

“She had orders not to say anything about it,” said Tariic as he joined them. “Not to you, not to anyone. What is happening is larger than your friendship. Chetiin, ta muut.”

“Cho, chib,” said Chetiin. His voice was thick and strained like a scar. He spoke in the human language, following Ekhaas and Tariic’s example. “It was a small task. Ekhaas duur’kala’s magic guided us to the right area, and the taarka’khesh among my band were able to locate him easily enough. He travels quietly for someone not of the Silent Clans.”

“High praise from you,” Tariic said. He looked to the shifter. “Geth, I’m Tariic of Rhukaan Taash, nephew and emissary of Lhesh Haruuc Shaarat’kor.”

“I know,” said Geth. “Chetiin told me who you are.”

“What else has Chetiin told you?”

Geth scratched the thick stubble on his chin. “Enough to persuade me to follow him and meet you. That Haruuc needed me”-his hand dropped to the ancient sword at his side-“and Wrath. That Ekhaas was involved, too, which is really why I came. He didn’t say anything about Ashi.”

“He didn’t know about her,” Ekhaas told him. “None of us did. Ashi wasn’t part of our plans initially.”

He gave her a long look. “I think it’s time I heard more about these plans. Chetiin got me this far on your name, Ekhaas, but I didn’t agree to go any farther until I know more. I’m not sure I like people making plans around me without asking first.”

“I want to know what’s going on, too,” agreed Ashi.

“So,” said Vounn, “would I.”

The lady seneschal stood behind them, wrapped in a shawl against the night air. Her face, as ever, was expressionless, but her voice was firm.

Tariic scowled. “Didn’t I tell you to wait in the cart?”

“You told your people to wait in the cart. Your authority doesn’t extend to me.” Her eyes narrowed. “Nor does it extend to my charge, yet it seems she’s become part of something. Please, enlighten me.”

“Who is this?” growled Geth.

“Geth, may I introduce Lady Seneschal Vounn d’Deneith, envoy of House Deneith to Lhesh Haruuc,” said Tariic tightly. “Lady Vounn, Geth.”

“She’s my mentor,” added Ashi.

Geth looked Vounn up and down and grunted.

Vounn’s lips pressed together. “Another figure from Ashi’s past,” she said.

Color rushed into Ashi’s face. “He’s my friend!”

“And mine,” said Ekhaas.

“He may be the one person,” said Tariic, his ears twitching, “who can prevent the collapse of Darguun when Haruuc dies.”