The Tyranny of Ghosts_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [103]
“I didn’t even try to mention it to him,” he reported. “I could see his eyes fade as soon as I started discussing the buildup of forces. Tariic has gotten to him. He probably has Laren reporting back to King Boranel that everything is just fine in Darguun.”
The results were the same, no matter whom they tried talking to. Tariic had subverted every ambassador from beyond Darguun’s borders, along with their diplomatic staffs, just as he’d subverted the dragonmarked envoys. Some, like Laren Roole, were deeper in thrall to the lhesh than others, but none of them seemed interested in any danger that might befall Breland. At worst, they simply declared anything Oraan told them a hoax.
“Tariic can’t have used the Rod of Kings directly on everyone, but its power is insidious,” he said, returning from another failed attempt. “Anyone who has heard him speak adores him.”
“You said that other nations have spies in Rhukaan Draal,” Ashi said. “What about them?”
“They’d have the same trouble getting a message out.”
“What about smuggling a message to someone you know outside of Darguun? A coded letter sent by Orien post.”
Oraan grunted. “The problem is proof. We don’t have details. Even if I get a message out and it reaches the right people in time, what do we tell them? All we’ve got is the suggestion that Tariic’s plans for fighting the Valenar are suspiciously similar to a decades-old plan for an invasion of Breland.” He sat down in a chair and looked at her. “Ashi, maybe we should wait. If we give him time, Tariic may braid enough rope to hang himself. The Brelish border isn’t undefended. Rogue Darguul clans raid across it all the time, and Breland stops them.”
“Are border defenses that catch raiders enough to handle a full army?” demanded Ashi. “Tariic has planned ahead. I think he’ll have thought of that. Oraan, even if he succeeds, the backlash will devastate Darguun.”
“There are a lot of Brelish who wouldn’t see that as a bad thing.”
She glared at him. “Are you one of them?”
He met her gaze, then after a moment, shook his head. “No.”
“Then we need to find evidence that people will pay attention to. We need the details of what he’s planning.”
Oraan sat back in his chair. “That’s not exactly the sort of thing anyone leaves lying around. I’ve looked in Khaar Mbar’ost’s map room and council chambers just to be sure. I don’t think Tariic is even using them. He’s keeping his plans very closely guarded. We might find something in his chambers, but that’s risky. You might not have noticed, but he’s there a lot. I’d need to find a time when I could be sure he wouldn’t interrupt me.”
“We’d need to find a time,” Ashi said. “If you’re doing this, I’m going with you.” He raised his ears, but she just raised her head stubbornly. “If you’re captured, Tariic will know I was involved anyway. He’ll ask, and you’ll have to answer.”
His ears flicked, and he nodded. “Fine. But we still need to find the right time to get in.”
Ashi smiled and held out the invitation she’d received that day.
They moved through the crowded throne room, Ashi with a goblet of wine in her hand, Oraan a pace behind her, glaring like the guard he was supposed to be. For all that the crowd was composed mostly of hobgoblins with a few goblins and bugbears among them, it wasn’t that much different than a feast in Sentinel Tower. Various warlords approached her, seeking favor or contracts with House Deneith. Dragonmarked envoys—Pater d’Orien, Kravin d’Vadalis, and others—stopped to chat. Ashi’s efforts to find out what Tariic was up to had inevitably made her more friends than she really wanted. She followed the lessons Vounn had taught her, though, and kept herself moving around the room, waiting for Tariic’s entrance and the beginning of the feast.
She did encounter one person who she hadn’t expected to see. Or at least who she hadn’t expected to see up close. As the crowd