The Doom of Kings_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [147]
“Ekhaas of Kech Volaar, Chetiin of the shaarat’khesh, Ashi d’Deneith, Midian Mit Davandi,” said Haruuc, “you owe allegiance to other lords, but I gift you with these in thanks, and tell you that you are friends of Darguun. If ever you have need, speak and Haruuc will listen.”
The goblin passed among them, offering a dagger to each. Ekhaas received the emerald dagger, Ashi the dagger with the Siberys dragonshard, Chetiin the ruby, Midian the sapphire. After the goblin retreated, Haruuc looked down again. “Geth, who bears Aram, the Sword of Heroes. Without your aid, Guulen could not have been found. What reward can I offer you? Will you take wealth? I would give you a chest full of gold.”
Geth’s eyebrows rose, then fell again. He shook his head. When he spoke, his Goblin was once again broken and crude. “Lhesh, no. How would I carry it?”
“Land, then?” Haruuc asked.
Geth shook his head a second time, then a third when Haruuc offered him a rank in his army. The lhesh’s ears flicked twice rapidly. Although he didn’t smile, Ekhaas guessed that he had expected Geth to turn down all three offers and was somehow pleased that he had.
“Geth, who bears Aram, you show your honor and prove yourself worthy of the greatest reward that any warrior can give. You owed me no allegiance, yet you sought Guulen at my request. You performed a great deed for Darguun, yet you accept neither wealth nor power. You have my trust in all things.” He stood up tall and straight. “Will you be my shava, to call me friend and stand at my back when I have need, to call on me to stand with you when you have need?”
It was hard to tell who was more surprised: Geth, who stood in silent shock, or the Darguuls in the throne room, who broke out in low murmurs. Ekhaas found herself among them. It had been unusual for Haruuc to take three shava. To take a fourth—and one who was not of the goblin races at that—was unheard of. Geth turned and glanced at her as if seeking guidance. Ekhaas spread her hands helplessly. There was no advice she could give him in this. Behind Haruuc, however, Vanii smiled and nodded to Geth. The survivor of Haruuc’s three shava approved.
Geth swallowed. “I will, lhesh,” he said.
“Join me,” Haruuc said, stepping away from the edge of the dais. He reached back, set the rod aside, and took up his sword from where it rested against the arm of his throne. As Geth mounted the steps of the dais, the high warlord said, “Draw your sword.”
The murmurs of the crowd hushed abruptly as Aram emerged. Haruuc raised his sword, gesturing for Geth to match the gesture. The two swords, red-stained steel and twilight purple byeshk, touched. Haruuc twisted his wrist and the teeth of the swords’ notched edges locked together. He reached under the joined swords and grasped Geth’s hand. Ekhaas heard him murmur, “Repeat what I say,” then he raised his voice.
“Before witnesses, I make this oath,” he said.
“Before witnesses, I make this oath,” Geth repeated.
For a moment Ekhaas was afraid that his broken Goblin might spoil Haruuc’s grand gesture, but as the shifter spoke, his words once again took on the ancient accent. It had to be some power of Aram, she guessed—the sword was giving strength to his words. If Haruuc noticed anything, he didn’t react, but continued the oath, with Geth echoing every phrase with faithful intensity.
“On blood and graves, I swear I will protect you and guide you, avenge you and cherish you, in life and death so long as I draw breath.” Haruuc paused. “Geth, you are shava to me.”
“Haruuc, you are shava to me.”
The two swords fell apart and Haruuc swept Geth into a rough hug. The lhesh’s embrace of Vounn before the assembly of warlords had been scandalous,