The Doom of Kings_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [69]
She fell silent. The room went quiet along with her until Geth lifted his eyes from Aram and said, “It sounds like this rod is what you need.”
“It is,” said Haruuc somberly. “Except that even after thousands of years of searching, no one has been able to find it.”
“But you think I might be able to because I carry Wrath,” Geth said. “That’s the task you want me to perform.”
Haruuc nodded without speaking.
“Because Aram and Guulen were both forged from the same vein of byeshk, they should still carry an affinity,” said Senen. “The duur’kala of Kech Volaar have studied the ancient songs of our ancestors. Aram is only just stirring after its slumbers. We believe we can wake it to its full power again and that it will lead you to Guulen if the rod still exists.”
Geth looked at the sword again. “Tiger, Wolf, and Rat,” he said.
“Will you do it, Geth?” Haruuc asked. “I doubt that it will be easy, but you’ll have whomever you choose at your side. Chetiin and Ekhaas will go with you—so will Dagii, and there’s no better fighter in my service. I’ll offer you gold or whatever reward you name, and you’ll have the gratitude of a king, which is no small thing.”
The shifter met Haruuc’s gaze. “There are a lot of people in Khorvaire who don’t like Darguun. They’d like to see Darguun fall apart into a bunch of squabbling clans again. They’re afraid you’re just waiting for another chance to come over the Seawall Mountains and attack.”
“All of the human kings and queens watch each other because they’re afraid of the same thing,” Haruuc said. “When will Breland invade Thrane or Aundair attack Karrnath? Those people who don’t like Darguun don’t see it the way I do. United, Darguuls can find pride again and climb back to the heights of culture we once knew, but if Darguun falls, the chances that my people will attack are even greater. Ekhaas has told me you’re a veteran of the Last War. You know the chaos of country fighting country, clan fighting clan.” The lhesh sat forward. “Give my nation the chance to win its place in Khorvaire.”
Geth was silent, and Ekhaas felt as if a hundred needles were being pushed into her scalp and back—then the shifter took a deep breath and nodded.
“I’ll do it,” he said.
CHAPTER
TWELVE
The date for the ritual that would wake Wrath was set for three nights later when, Senen said, the moons would be at their brightest. At first Geth had felt a strange kind of elation. After his decision, everyone who had been in the room with Haruuc was slapping his shoulders and congratulating him. He had felt like … to be honest, he’d felt like a hero.
That elation had worn off like a night at the tavern. He’d awakened the next morning and just lain in bed, staring up at the ceiling of the chamber he’d been escorted to and wondering exactly what he’d gotten himself into. The feeling reminded him of a time during the war when he’d agreed to go with other members of his mercenary company to have a piercing done. Specifically, it reminded him of a moment in the piercing artist’s shop when he’d looked up and seen the artist, needles and rings on a tray, working his way through the line of mercenaries. Too late to back out, too much time for second guessing.
He passed most of the next three days flipping back and forth between elation and second guessing. Plans were being made for the journey in the hope that the Kech Volaar’s ritual would work and that Geth would, through Wrath, be able to sense the way to the rod, but he had little involvement in them. Chetiin, Ekhaas, and Dagii were handling the details. Geth wasn’t sure about Dagii. He was willing to accept Haruuc’s claim that he was the best fighter in his service and Chetiin’s assurances that he was a good man, but the hobgoblin seemed strangely stiff and formal around