The Doom of Kings_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [49]
Ekhaas’s mouth opened and closed several times, but no sound came out. Kicking her heels into her horse’s side, she rode forward, away from the gnome. Ashi looked at Geth, then rode after her. Geth looked at Midian. “How do you know that this place isn’t Kaal?” he asked.
“A research team from the Library of Korranberg studied the place before the outbreak of the Last War,” Midian said with a shrug. “They wrote a classic paper. Very famous. Your Ekhaas shouldn’t be so sensitive. Kech Volaar legends and songs are interesting starting points, but they don’t always represent the facts.”
Geth could guess now why Ekhaas hadn’t been pleased to have Midian join their party. He felt a growl rising inside him but held it back. “I’ve seen things out of legend,” he said. “Legends have saved my life.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Midian said. He pointed at the sword hanging at Geth’s side. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re wearing a legend. But the Empire of Dhakaan rose fifteen thousand years ago from even older goblin kingdoms. It fell more than five thousand years ago. The legends to which modern Dhakaani clans like the Kech Volaar cling have been repeated and venerated for millennia. They’re not always accurate.” He winked at Geth conspiratorially. “That’s why I’m here—to give another perspective on the legends.”
“Wait, you know something about Haruuc’s task?” Geth asked.
Midian smiled, white teeth flashing in his tanned face. “No more than you do, I suspect, but it involves Dhakaani history and that’s what’s important to me. By Aureon’s blue quill, whatever happens, it’s going to make a fine paper!” He looked ahead to where Ekhaas, accompanied by Ashi, was glowering back at him and sighed, then urged his pony into a trot. “We can talk more later, Geth,” he called back, “but I think I’d better go try to make peace with her, or we’ll have an unpleasant journey. Duur’kala don’t often have a good opinion of Korranberg researchers to begin with.”
“I wonder why,” Geth said under his breath.
Chetiin’s voice drifted up from behind him. “The ancient hobgoblins who first encountered gnomes in the jungles between the Seawall Mountains and the Howling Peaks thought they were somehow related to giant rats.”
“Did they really?”
“That’s what the legends say,” Chetiin said dryly, “but they’re not always accurate.”
CHAPTER
NINE
They reached the crest of the pass at dusk. The red light of the setting sun fell full on a massive keep that blocked the pass from side to side. The closer they drew to the keep, however, the less certain Geth was that it really was just a keep. The nearest side of the fortress was largely a blank wall with a reinforced ramp leading up to a single gate wide enough for three wagons to drive through at the same time. The road ended at the wall of the keep, though unlike at Sterngate, it didn’t run directly to the keep’s gate—ramp and gate were strangely misaligned, off-center with the road by a good ten paces. Parapets topped the wall, but behind them were a cluster of towers that rose so high it seemed as if they’d been built on top of the keep. Even odder were the buttresses filling the narrow gaps between the keep and the natural walls of the pass. Geth was no engineer, but it looked as if they were an afterthought, as if the entire keep had been dropped into the pass and efforts made afterward to make it fit the space.
Hobgoblins and bugbears guarded the ramp, gate, and parapets. Geth could hear them calling to each other as the mounted party approached and they recognized Haruuc’s banner. When their party was about fifty paces from the great wall, Aruget, Krakuul, and Thuun dismounted. Facing the keep, they gave a kind of salute by thumping their chests with a fist. Tariic saluted as well, though he remained mounted.
The guards at the foot of the ramp returned the salute. Tariic led the way forward once again, riding up to a hobgoblin wearing polished armor painted with a silhouette of what Geth assumed were jagged teeth, then realized were actually