The Doom of Kings_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [114]
“Makka chib, wait,” said Guun. There was a hungry look in his beady eyes. “What about this treasure? If we could get it—”
“No one goes into the valley. It’s been a cursed place since the mountains were young. If there’s treasure lost in the valley, it will remain lost until they are dust!”
Dagii, however, seized on Guun’s curiosity and greed. “The Deneith are idiots,” he said to Makka. “They went into the valley during the Last War while they were looking for Marguul to fight for them. The treasure is their pay chest, full of gold and gems. The wealth of a king! We got close to it before the trolls drove us away.” He dropped his voice. “How many trolls do you believe are in the valley, chib? We only saw nine. With fire and pitch, your tribe would be a match for them. You could wipe them out for good and claim the treasure.”
The idea sank into Makka’s head and he paused, anger slipping away. Dagii had hit on something even more valuable to Makka, Ashi realized, than the treasure. Wiping out the trolls would eliminate a drain on the resources of the tribe’s territory—how much of the meat that hung on racks around the camp must have been there just to feed the trolls? The thought of a chest full of treasure probably didn’t hurt either.
After a long moment, Makka snorted. “Put them back in the hut. I must think about this.” He stomped away to the longhouse at the back of the camp.
Guun and the other bugbear pushed Ashi and Dagii inside the hut, then dropped the hide door as they went after Makka. Ashi nodded at Dagii once they were gone. “That was nicely done, turning Makka against the trolls.”
“It may not work,” Dagii said. “I think Makka may be too afraid of the valley. It may give us a chance, though.”
“It may give some of us a chance,” said a quiet voice from the ground.
Ashi looked down and stifled a cry of delight. Ekhaas’s amber eyes were open and looking up at them. She dropped down beside her. “How long have you been awake?”
“Long enough to know that I’ve joined the Mur Talaan and been given the position of scout.” She sat up slowly, her eyes squeezing shut as she moved.
“If they’d known you were a duur’kala, they would have watched you more closely or maybe just killed you right away,” said Dagii. “This way we have a secret they don’t know.”
Ekhaas nodded, the motion bringing another brief wince to her face. “There’s more than muscle and honor between your ears,” she said. “The problem with the story you’ve told to Makka is that he doesn’t need all of us to pull it off. You told him that we almost reached the treasure—that means he only needs one of us to find it again.”
“Maabet,” said Dagii. “I’m a soldier, not a duur’kala. Do you think you can come up with something?”
“We can start by telling them Ashi needs to be the one to open the chest. At least we’ve got time to think of something more.” She looked around, her ears flicking. “Geth and the others?”
Ashi took the job of telling her that there had been no sign of their friends. Again, there was no need to speak aloud the possibility that they were dead. She could see in Ekhaas’s eyes that she had considered the same thing already.
The hut grew quiet as Ekhaas thought and Ashi and Dagii rested. The bright light, moving shadows, and wary tension in the camp beyond the flimsy walls continued. There would be none of the tribe’s usual activities that night—the risk of a troll attack kept them all close to the camp and alert. Ashi found herself a spot on the piled hides in the hut that was neither too hard nor too smelly. In spite of the noise of the camp outside, she even managed to fall into a light doze.
She couldn’t have said exactly how long she slept, but it was Dagii’s voice that roused her to semi-waking. The hobgoblin warrior spoke softly in Goblin. “Thank you for healing my ankle, Ekhaas. I’ve never felt anything like your magic.”
“No thanks are necessary,” Ekhaas answered. “We couldn’t leave you.”
Dagii