The Doom of Kings_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [165]
As soon as Haruuc opened the door, however, Geth could see that there had been a change in the throne room. The big, blocky throne had been shifted to one side of the dais to make way for a bench-like stone bier—for Vanii, Geth assumed—but also for something else. Standing over the bier, rising a little more than half the height of the throne room, was a tree sculpted of white stone. A thick trunk rose, narrowed, then spread and split into curved segments. The stone branches were sharp with ridges and thorny spikes that cast hard shadows in the torchlight that lit the throne room. The entire tree was cut with grooves along and across its surface. Many of the grooves were stained dark. Geth’s stomach rose into his throat. He’d seen the tree’s twin—the original, in fact—in the great underground hall of Taruuzh Kraat, the workshop of Taruuzh. This one was smaller than that had been, but it was still frightening to look upon.
Geth could hear the faint sound of the court waiting in the antechamber beyond the great carved doors, but for now the throne room was empty and silent. He looked to Haruuc. “That’s a real grieving tree. An original Dhakaani grieving tree.”
The lhesh leaned against the throne and stared up into the branches. “There are ruins in the south of Darguun that have lain undisturbed for many centuries. When I forged the alliance among the Ghaal’dar tribes that became Darguun, I traveled everywhere in search of allies—even through the Torlaac Moor and into the jungle of the Khraal. I found this in the Khraal and had it brought back into the north. It’s been hidden until now. Waiting for the right time to be used.” He glanced at Geth. “A secret is only a surprise once.”
Geth felt sick. “Have you ever seen a true grieving tree feeding?”
“Feeding … I hadn’t thought to call it that. But yes. One of the men I had with me when we found it accidentally activated it. I know the words.” He spoke a word in something that sounded like Goblin but that Wrath didn’t translate for Geth. A shiver passed through the stone branches of the tree. Haruuc spoke another word and the shivering stopped. Geth looked away and tried not to think of Keraal hung in the branches.
“Do you really want revenge for Vanii’s death so badly that you want to do this to Keraal?” he asked.
“I told you,” Haruuc said, “this isn’t about Vanii—”
Something inside Geth snapped. “Boar’s snout!” He turned back to Haruuc, his teeth bared. “If this wasn’t about Vanii, you wouldn’t have made Iizan’s slaves move a forest in three days. You would already have planned something.”
Haruuc’s ears bent flat. “The Gan’duur warriors had to die. Their clan had to be destroyed.”
“You could have found another way to do it! You’re selling women and children into slavery. Couldn’t you have sold the warriors, too?”
“I do what I must for Darguun!”
“Stop saying that!” Geth shouted at him. “It’s not for Darguun! How can it be for Darguun? This …” He pointed at the grieving tree. “This I can see in a twisted way is good for Darguun. I can see that Keraal has to die and maybe even that he has to die painfully if that’s what your tradition says is necessary. But how is going to war good for Darguun? How is risking that the other nations of Khorvaire won’t destroy you utterly good for Darguun?” He walked across the dais to face Haruuc. “Chetiin and Munta were right. You’re going to destroy what you’ve worked to build.”
“I do what I must!” Haruuc thrust out the rod. “I do what a king must!”
And suddenly Geth understood. He stared at Haruuc and the rod. “Grandmother Wolf,” he said. “Grandfather Rat.” Slowly, he drew Wrath and held it out before him. “Aram, the Sword of Heroes. Guulen, the Rod of Kings. The sword shows me tales of the heroes who held it and pushes me to be like them.” He looked into Haruuc’s face. “The rod shows you the emperors.”
Haruuc opened his eyes a little wider. “You too?” he asked. “Then you understand! Taruuzh said, ‘In this are the glories of the people. Bear them in mind and the people will always know their king.