The Tyranny of Ghosts: Legacy of Dhakaan - Book 3 (41 page)

BOOK: The Tyranny of Ghosts: Legacy of Dhakaan - Book 3
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“Darguun, rise and destroy my enemies!”

Fear stabbed through Ekhaas. Instantly, she thrust the
shaari’mal
into the air, concentrating all of her will on blocking Tariic’s command. She saw Chetiin, his wrinkled face pale, do the same thing.

They might as well have tried to stop the tide with a bucket.

The power of the rod blasted through her, too strong to be held back. The shield of Muut muted some of it, but not enough. On the floor of the arena, Kech Shaarat, Iron Fox, and warlords alike staggered and fell, the shield allowing them to fight—if not entirely resist—Tariic’s command. Above the arena floor, though … She twisted to look up into the stands.

All those who had remained in the arena to watch violence unfold were on their feet, eyes strangely blank. Ekhaas felt a crush of despair. Muut had failed them. Was this what had happened after the nobles of Dhakaan had abandoned their duty and the
shaari’mal
had been forgotten—

Hope sprang up inside her. She whirled around. Geth, protected by Wrath, still stood, his face twisting in anger as he stared at those writhing on the ground. One of them, right beside him, was Tenquis. Ekhaas saw Geth’s fist tighten on his sword, saw him put his foot on the first step of the phantom stairs Tenquis had conjured.

“No!” she yelled. “Geth, the third
shaari’mal!
Get it to Dagii!”

From the raised box came the fluting battle cry of the Bonetree Clan as Ashi rushed at Tariic. The lhesh caught her blow on his sword, though, and slid past her easily. Ekhaas’s gut twisted. Ashi might be able to prevail over Tariic, but if she didn’t do it quickly, none of them would be able to take on Tariic’s army.

She watched Geth look up at the sound of clashing swords, then down at Tenquis.

Every instinct told Geth to join Ashi against Tariic. Together, they’d be able to beat him.

In his hand, though, Wrath stirred with a life Geth had only felt a few times before. Memories of hobgoblin heroes, dead for thousands of years, flickered through his head. Memories of them performing great feats and defeating strange monsters, the tales of their exploits inspiring generations. The very reason that the Sword of Heroes had been created.

It was Wrath’s way of telling him that this wasn’t his fight. It belonged to someone else.

Geth bent down and reached into the pocket—fortunately still unsealed—where Tenquis had hidden the third
shaari’mal
.
The tiefling’s hand grabbed his wrist as he drew the disk out. Tenquis looked up at him, his eyes narrow with the effort of fighting Tariic’s command.

The shifter eased his hand away. “I’ll come back,” he promised—then he sprinted across the sand.

Others in the arena had fallen to squirm on their sides or backs but Dagii had stayed on his knees, gripping his sword as he stared up at Tariic. Geth slid in the sand as he stopped beside the young warlord. “This is yours,” he said. He pushed the
shaari’mal
at him.

Dagii stared at it for a heartbeat, then reached out and wrapped his fingers around it.

One disk held brought a tremor through Wrath. Two disks brought a lightning charge.

Three disks was like holding onto a storm. Geth felt as though he were gripping all of the great artifacts that Taruuzh had forged from the vein of byeshk called
Khaar Vanon
. He could feel the connection between them, feel the power and the destiny that they shared.

Power pulsed out through the arena in an invisible wave. On the sand, warriors and warlords stirred and sat up. In the stands, Darguuls seemed to draw a single, unified breath as the influence of the Rod of Kings was blasted away. In the raised box, Tariic screamed in rage. Geth’s head jerked up, and he saw the lhesh batter Ashi with a blow that sent her sprawling one way and her sword spinning another.

Tariic didn’t follow up on his advantage, though. He whirled to look out into the arena. “Who dares?” he bellowed in Goblin.

“I dare!” Beside Geth, Dagii rose to his feet and glared at Tariic. He held the
shaari’mal
high and gestured with his other hand to Ekhaas and Chetiin. “We dare.”

“You can’t!” Tariic thrust out the rod again. “Darguuls, obey me!”

Nothing happened. There was no new pulse of power. Geth felt no tremor through Wrath.

Dagii slowly lowered the
shaari’mal
. “We stand between you and them,” he said, “as it was meant to be.” He turned to look at the warlords on the sand and the people in the stands. “Tariic has manipulated you,” he proclaimed. “He has placed Darguun in peril to satisfy his own ambition. He has forgotten his
muut.”

“I will lead Darguun to a new age of empire!” Tariic roared.

“You will destroy us!” Dagii shouted at him. “Haruuc realized it when he discovered the curse of the rod, but you were so caught up in the rod’s power that you ignored the danger. Khorvaire is no longer the place it was when Dhakaan ruled. The Age of Dhakaan leaves its legacy, but an Age of Darguun, as Haruuc saw it, is the future.”

He threw back his head, raising his face to Tariic. “It is the ancient right of a warrior to challenge his clan chief when he believes the chief has failed the clan. The lhesh is chief of the clan of Darguun. Tariic Kurar’taarn, lhesh of Darguun, I say that you have failed us, that you are without
atcha
and without
muut
. I am Dagii, warlord of Mur Talaan, commander of the Iron Fox, victor in the Battle of Zarrthec. Here and now, I challenge you!”

The arena was silent for a moment, then Ekhaas raised her voice. “I witness the challenge!”

Chetiin raised his strained voice as well. “I witness it!”

Tariic looked down at the warlords who had stood beside him in the box and who had rushed to fight at his command. Geth saw Garaad of Vaniish Kai, leaning on his spear, lift his head. “I witness it.”

Tariic put his ears back and bared his teeth. “The challenge is accepted!” He raised the Rod of Kings. “But a chief who is challenged and wins has the right to take the life of his challenger.”

“I expect nothing less,” said Dagii.

Tariic swung his legs over the rail of the box and climbed down Tenquis’s phantom stairs to the sand below. Those near the base of the steps pulled back to leave a clear space. Ekhaas, Chetiin, and Tenquis came to stand with Geth and Dagii,
but there was no other movement. Kech Shaarat and Iron Fox remained intermingled. Tariic stood alone in the cleared space, waiting.

“Geth,” said Dagii, “give me Wrath.”

Geth didn’t hesitate. He reversed the twilight blade and presented the hilt to him. Dagii took it. He looked at Ekhaas and nodded to her. She nodded in return, her ears standing high, then Dagii turned and stepped away.

Warlord and lhesh faced each other. They raised their swords, touching them together almost as if swearing an oath in the goblin fashion. Tariic sneered at Dagii. “You never understood power,” he said.

Dagii’s eyes narrowed, and his ears flicked back—

In that instant, Tariic dropped his sword and snatched at the
shaari’mal
held in Dagii’s left hand. “Resist me without this!” he screamed.

Dagii’s fingers tightened on the disk. His right arm raised Wrath and he struck.

At Tariic’s left hand. At the Rod of Kings.

Geth knew what would happen. He’d felt it in that moment when Dagii had gripped the third
shaari’mal
and completed the Shield of Nobles. The artifacts of Khaar Vanon were connected. The destiny of one lay within the others.

Within the Shield of Nobles, the Sword of Heroes struck the Rod of Kings.
Muut, Aram, Guulen
.

The rod rang with a sound like a cracked bell and shattered. Shards of byeshk fell out of Tariic’s hand. The lhesh gasped, let go of the
shaari’mal
, and staggered away. Dagii drew back Wrath.

“You never understood duty,” he said—and swung.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
28 Vult

T
he death of Lhesh Haruuc Shaarat’kor had been followed by a mourning period of ten days during which no fires burned in Rhukaan Draal, the streets were empty between dawn and dusk, and no one entered or left the city.

The death of Lhesh Tariic Kurar’taarn was followed by no mourning period at all.

It wasn’t a case of spite. When Razu asked how Tariic’s passing should be treated, Dagii had been willing to allow for a remembrance of tradition, but there was too much to be done too quickly. Messengers were dispatched into the north of Darguun with orders that the troops Tariic had put in place be demobilized. More messages were rushed to King Boranel of Breland advising him of the change in power in Darguun and of the nation’s good will toward its neighbors. In addition, not everyone was convinced of Tariic’s villainy. The power of the Rod of Kings had swayed many Darguuls, but many more had needed no greater persuasion than Tariic’s promises of war and glory.

“His memory will haunt you,” Chetiin had advised Dagii.

“It already does.”

Geth stayed close to the young former warlord—the young lhesh. Someone had the idea that because he’d held the throne for two weeks after Haruuc’s death, Geth was best suited to steer Dagii through his first days.

“The best advice I can give you is to keep your head down,” the shifter told Dagii. “If it all gets to be too much, find a friend and duel for a while.” He patted Wrath at his side. “That works for me.”

Munta the Gray was summoned to Rhukaan Draal and installed as Dagii’s chief advisor, which relieved Geth. The old warlord knew more about political maneuvering than Geth ever would.

When it came time to try and appease the dragonmarked houses, though, Ashi was Dagii’s biggest help. The viceroys of the houses—and many of the ambassadors from the Five Nations—had a new respect for her. After the events at the arena, Dannel d’Cannith had personally seen to the removal of the icy cuffs Tariic had forced on her and promised an investigation into who in House Cannith had created such a device. If relations with the houses and nations beyond Darguun would take time to repair, the viceroys and ambassadors within Darguun were at least cordial. Most of them admitted to Ashi—sentiments she passed along quietly to Geth and the others—that they were embarrassed at having been manipulated by Tariic and suddenly faced a certain amount of suspicion from their monarchs and patriarchs.

The Kech Shaarat appeared to find themselves in a similar situation. When Riila Dhakaan appeared before Dagii to tell him formally that her clan’s warriors would withdraw, she hinted that she would not have the warmest of welcomes from the warlord of her clan. Ruus Dhakaan seemed to feel that she’d fallen too much under Tariic’s influence, the power of the Rod of Kings not withstanding. Dagii offered apologies for the death of Taak, but she shrugged them off. “He died with honor,” she said. “Remember him as a strong opponent.”

Messages of apology for the treatment of Senen Dhakaan were also sent to Volaar Draal, but there was no immediate response. Ekhaas admitted that she wasn’t surprised. “The Kech Volaar are not a forgiving clan. It comes of having long memories.”

She hid her own sadness well. Geth, Tenquis, and Chetiin told the story of her exile from the Kech Volaar to Ashi, while Ekhaas told Dagii herself. Afterward, they’d come together and Ashi had tried to console Ekhaas. The
duur’kala
wouldn’t allow her. “It makes it easier,” she said.

“Easier?” Ashi looked ready to ride to Volaar Draal and threaten Tuura Dhakaan until she took Ekhaas back.

“Easier,” said Dagii. “Normally marriage between a lord of the Ghaal’dar and a woman of a Dhakaani clan would force some kind of political alliance, but since Ekhaas is exiled—”

They hadn’t let him finish before they were offering their congratulations. Ekhaas had shushed them all down. “There are still complications,” she said. “Haruuc never married, so there was no need to figure out a female equivalent of lhesh.”

“Lhesh’nu
,” said Dagii.

“Really?” asked Tenquis. “It sounds like you just made that up.”

“I’m the lhesh. If I can’t make up words, what can I do?”

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