The Doom of Kings_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [60]
In the next hall, a voice rose loud. Ekhaas’s ears twitched toward it, and her eyes narrowed. Ashi strained to follow the voice, but most of the speech was words she didn’t know yet. “What are they saying?” she asked.
“Try this,” said Geth. He took her hand and placed it just below his on the hilt of his sword so they were both holding the weapon.
Instantly, she understood the words as if she’d been speaking Goblin all her life. “… hold us back!” ranted the speaker. “Our clans are willing! Our warriors are waiting! There are riches to be had over the Seawalls. A swift descent from Matshuc Zaal would put Sterngate in our hands. I have reports from a scout who says that he’s worked out a path through the human defenses.”
“Has he followed the path?” asked another voice. This one was calmer and deeper, speaking in measured, thoughtful tones. “Has he walked up to the walls of Sterngate?”
“He waits only for confirmation of our interest in his plan before he makes the attempt!”
“In other words, he hasn’t and he wisely isn’t going to throw his life away for no reason,” said the deeper voice. “Daavn, Sterngate’s deadliest defenses are the ones that can’t be seen from a distance.”
The first voice paused for a moment, then changed tactics. “A strike around the northern end of the Seawalls then,” said Daavn. “With Skullreave as our staging base, we’re three days’ march from the colony the Brelish king is allowing to call itself New Cyre. You know their defenses are weak.”
“Their defenses are weak because they’re poor,” shouted a third voice. “Sit down, Daavn.”
“Respect the order of assembly,” said a fourth voice wearily, as if the speaker had repeated the words too many times.
“Daavn, we will not attack Breland,” said the deep voice, almost as weary. “We are bound by the Treaty of Thronehold. Yield the pole and sit down if you have nothing new to say.”
A murmuring of other voices agreed with him.
Daavn was silent for a moment, then said, “Valenar.”
The murmuring voices ended instantly, and Daavn went on more boldly. “The ancient enemies of our people have taken up residence across Kraken Bay. When the Valenar elves claimed their territory, they even did it on the basis of blood spilled fighting against our ancestors. They claim a victory they didn’t earn. We should take ships and teach them what it means to fight hobgoblins!”
This time the murmurs that rose were excited and voices called out support to Daavn—but they all ended as the deep voice shouted. “There will be no attacks outside our borders! Valenar is also a Thronehold nation!”
“My clan cries out for war!”
“If the Marhaan want war, Daavn,” said the deep voice, “look for it in the Mournland. Push back the mists and seek all the riches you wish.”
Daavn had no answer, and there were no more murmurs. The deep voice grunted and said, “Lower the banner of the Marhaan. Their warlord has finished, and Aguus of the Bound Cat clan wishes to speak.”
Ashi released the hilt of Geth’s sword and the voices became incomprehensible once more. “Incredible. That deep voice, was that—?”
“Haruuc,” said Ekhaas. “You see what he fights against.”
“I didn’t realize that Darguun shared a border with the Mournland,” Geth said.
Ekhaas’s ears twitched irritably. “Few people do, but in fact Darguun—”
“—has the longest land border with the Mournland of any nation,” said a new voice, completing her thought.
All three of them turned to face the speaker, a hobgoblin in armor that had been painted with Haruuc’s scarlet blade and spiked crown. By the unlined orange-red skin of his face, Ashi guessed he was relatively young, maybe a few years younger than Tariic and a few years older than her, but his hair was already a dark gray that made him seem older. Ashi