The Doom of Kings_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [148]
Haruuc took up the Rod of Kings again and gestured, sword in one hand and rod in the other, for the crowd to be silent. “There is another reward that must be given,” he said. “Dagii of Mur Talaan, stand forward.”
Dagii did. There was a slight limp in his step, a permanent legacy of her hurried healing of his ankle in the valley. Haruuc held his sword out, naked blade toward the waiting warrior. “Dagii of Mur Talaan, I offer you the rank of lhevk-rhu. Do you accept this challenge?”
Ekhaas’s ears rose, and there was a new murmur in the crowd. Lhevk-rhu was the third highest rank in the military structure Haruuc had created after the war. It raised Dagii above most common warlords, leaving him outranked only by a few elder warlords, like Munta the Gray, and the lhesh himself. Dagii looked up and met Haruuc’s eyes.
“I accept it,” he said. He reached out and wrapped his left hand around the sharpened edge of the offered sword. With a slow, steady motion, Haruuc withdrew the sword and fresh blood ran along the blade. There was new applause from scattered warlords in the crowd—applause that Haruuc stopped with a gesture.
“Dagii,” he said, “your new rank comes with a responsibility. Remind me—remind all gathered here—where the territory of the Mur Talaan lies.”
Dagii’s ears stood high. “Lhesh, the territory of the Mur Talaan is the land beneath Rhukaan Draal.”
“If the territory of a clan has been attacked, what must its warlord do?”
Confusion and suspicion narrowed Dagii’s eyes, and his gaze flicked to the smoke still visible over Rhukaan Draal. “The warlord must defend his clan’s territory. If the attack cannot be defended against or occurs in his absence, he must strike back against the attacker—if the lhesh, by your law, grants him permission to do so.” Dagii drew himself up. “Lhesh, has the territory of the Mur Talaan been attacked?”
“Today and in your absence,” Haruuc said solemnly, drawing out the words. The hall was absolutely still. “Warriors of the Gan’duur make free with your territory, lhevk-rhu. They threaten the peace by starving the people. Keraal of Gan’duur claims he has disciplined those responsible. As lhesh of Darguun, I must be satisfied with this.”
Dagii clenched his wounded fist. Blood dripped onto the floor of the throne room. “Lhesh, my clan’s honor cannot be satisfied by words. A warlord may do what a lhesh cannot. On behalf of the Mur Talaan, I ask your permission to strike back against the Gan’duur.”
The stirring among the warlords was like a wave, as if Dagii’s words had burst a dam. Haruuc smiled, looking almost smug. “You have my permission.”
There was motion in the corner of Ekhaas’s eye as Munta the Gray rose. “Mur Talaan has few troops, lhesh. If Dagii of Mur Talaan will lead, the Gantii Vus will follow him to support his honor.”
The offer came too easily to be spontaneous, but abruptly there were other warlords calling out their support. Haruuc, Vanii, and Munta were all smiling, and Ekhaas had the feeling that someone—and she suspected it was the Gan’duur—had just been outmaneuvered. Haruuc raised his voice, too. “The Rhukaan Taash will stand for the honor of the Mur Talaan as well. Let all see that the clans of the Ghaal’dar remember tradition.” He raised his sword high and held the Rod of Kings close to his chest. “Let all see that Darguun is strong!”
The roar that shook the stones of the hall was deafening. The raw emotion of the crowd was like a song. Ekhaas turned around to stare, drinking in the moment of Haruuc’s triumph. Very nearly every Darguul was standing, their heads thrown back, their