The Doom of Kings_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [130]
“Lhesh Haruuc?” Dabrak almost sneered. “That’s the name of the great ruler you follow?”
“Lhesh Haruuc Shaarat’kor,” Ashi said. “Yes. He united the dar and carved out a new homeland for his people.”
“And he claims the title of lhesh. A lhesh is a general. You think an emperor should be satisfied with giving advice to a general?” He held up the rod. “Do you think I would be content to share this? For generations of emperors, it was only a trinket. I’ve unlocked its powers. I’ve bonded with it—over five thousand years, if you’re to be believed. You think your Haruuc would be able to use the rod as I have?”
“He doesn’t want it for that,” said Ashi. “He wouldn’t use it that way. He only wants it as a symbol.”
Dabrak sneered. “If he won’t use it, he doesn’t deserve it—I wouldn’t show him how. I would as soon stay here.”
Frustration surged up her throat like bile, and she had to clench her teeth to keep it inside. “Marhu,” she said bluntly, “I think you lost all claim to the Rod of Kings when you abandoned your empire to hide in a cave like a mole. We need it. What do you want for it?”
He gave her a level glare. “Who taught you negotiation? They should be whipped.”
“We agree on that.” She met his eyes. “What do you want in return for the Rod of Kings?”
Dabrak Riis leaned forward. “I want you to die. Right here in the Uura Odaarii.”
Ashi started. “You want me to die? Here? But that’s—”
“Impossible. Yes.” He sat back. “But those are my terms. You die and I’ll give you the Rod of Kings. I’ll even release your friends.
She stared at him—then felt a flood of inspiration. “Done,” she said. “I accept. But I’ll need a sword and I’ll need her.” She pointed at Ekhaas a second time.
Dabrak smiled again. “Very well. She’s yours.” He gestured with the rod and Ekhaas sagged abruptly, then caught herself and looked at him with hatred in her eyes.
Ashi caught her arm and pulled her to her feet. “Not now,” she said in the duur’kala’s ear. “Have you heard what I’ve said?”
“Yes, but—”
Ashi shook her head, cutting her off. “Don’t argue. I need you to hold a rhythm for me.”
Ekhaas’s ears and eyebrows rose at the same time.
Ashi smiled. “You saw the sword dance at Sentinel Tower. While we were in the guard station, you clapped some of the drum rhythm from memory. Can you do that again for the whole dance? Slow opening, quick first part, slow second part, quick third part, slow end. Watch me for cues if you need to.”
“I can sing the viol part if you need me to. What are you doing, Ashi?”
“What Vounn had me trained to do. Give me your sword.”
Ekhaas started to draw the weapon, but Dabrak coughed like a courtier. “Not that sword,” he said. He pointed across the cavern to Wrath. “That one.”
Ashi looked at the twilight blade, then at Dabrak. Geth had put her hand on the sword once so that she could use its gift of understanding Goblin. That wasn’t exactly the same as trying to wield the weapon. Would the sword let her use it? She could only try. Bracing herself, she went over to the sword. Geth was still huddled and trembling beside it. She tried to ignore him, dropping her torch on the ground and bending over the sword. “Wrath,” she murmured. “I need to use you to help Geth and the others, and to get the rod. Please accept my touch.”
She felt stupid talking to the weapon, but her first light touch on the sword’s hilt was still tentative. Nothing happened. She curled her fingers around it and raised it, offering a mock salute to Dabrak. The emperor, risen from his chair to stand and watch her, looked disappointed. Ashi walked to an open part of the cavern and nodded to Ekhaas. It was time to see who had been right all those weeks ago in Sentinel Tower: Vounn, who’d said she couldn’t do it, or her old instructor Baerer, who’d believed she could.
Ekhaas took a deep breath and raised her voice in a long, clear note. Ashi swept into the rigid first position of the sword dance, held it for a long moment, then dropped her blade and walked around it.
Wrath wasn’t the best sword for