The Doom of Kings_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [84]
“The Gan’duur have crossed the Ghaal at the eastern ferry,” he said. “They attacked wagons on their way to market in Rhukaan Draal this morning.” He glanced at the messenger. “Tell Munta and Vanii I’m on my way.” The goblin nodded and dashed away. Haruuc looked to Vounn. “Iron should not cool on the anvil, nor should it be left in the forge. I appreciate the distraction you offer me.”
Vounn bent her head. “You helped me, lhesh. Ta muut.”
Haruuc turned to go. Tariic sprang to his side. “Wait,” he said. “I’ll come with you.”
Vounn thought she saw Haruuc’s shoulders stiffen before he nodded to his nephew.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Following Wrath through the mountains was like fighting a battle from sunrise to sunset. In a time years ago—a time that felt like another life—Geth had fought just such a battle along the border between Cyre and Karrnath. In the end, he hadn’t been able to tell whether any ground had been gained, only that he would have laid down among the corpses on the battlefield if it meant a chance to rest.
He and the others felt the same way at the end of every day now. Their pace slowed even more as they crept up toward, then climbed among, the Seawalls. Distances they should have covered in a few hours took an entire day as they went around canyons and sought out gentler inclines to follow. The weather turned colder as they pushed higher. Occasionally, they saw signs of habitation, of the rare goblins who lived in the mountains, but they made no effort to seek shelter with them. As Chetiin pointed out, if someone chose to live in the wilderness, they probably wanted to be left alone.
One night Midian pulled out a map and some shiny brass instruments. He made observations of several stars, worked out calculations in chalk, traced a line across his map, and cursed. “Sage’s shadow! We’re traveling on a line with Paluur Draal and Korranberg.”
“What’s Paluur Draal?” asked Ashi.
“It was a shining jewel of the Empire of Dhakaan,” said Ekhaas. “A great city, now ruined, overrun in the past by gnomes and kobolds— even humans tried to live there for a time. The rod couldn’t be there, though. The ruins have been thoroughly explored.”
“Don’t be sure of that,” Midian said, stowing his instruments back into his pack. “The last time I was there, the expedition I was with found evidence that the roots of the city extended deeper than anyone expec—” He caught Ekhaas’s glare and quickly changed the subject. “The point is that Paluur Draal is quite close to Korranberg. We could have ridden back to Sterngate, caught the lightning rail into Zilargo, and been there already.”
“What if the rod has already been found?” Chetiin asked. “You said we’re also on a line with Korranberg. What if the rod rests in your famous library?”
Midian flushed. “Now see here! If the library held a Dhakaani artifact as significant as the Rod of Kings, I’d know about it!”
“I notice you don’t say that the library would give it back,” said Ekhaas.
“Maybe no one has asked for it!” Midian screwed up his face. “Not that we have it. I mean that if we did have it and Haruuc sent someone to explain why it was important that it be returned to Darguun, I’m sure the library would repatriate it immediately. Trust me, no nation wants to see Darguun remain peaceful more than Zilargo.”
“All those gnomes helpless before the threat of invading Darguul slavers?” asked Chetiin dryly.
“Exactly!” said Midian. “It’s in Zilargo’s best interest to support a stable leadership in Darguun.”
Chetiin scratched Marrow’s head. “You don’t have to worry,” he said. “I understand Zils make terrible slaves.”
Midian’s mouth opened, but no sound came out and his face turned an even deeper shade of red.
Geth sighed and put an end to it. “The rod can’t be in the library. Korranberg’s below the mountains and we”—he drew Wrath and held it out so that everyone could see the angle of the pointing blade—“are still going up.”
They caught a bit of luck the next day. During their time in the mountains, they’d passed a number of ancient ruins,