The Tyranny of Ghosts_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [15]
But the part of her that Vounn had trained from a barbarian of the Shadow Marches into a lady of House Deneith held her back. Attacking Tariic would kill her. Patience would keep her alive.
Ashi bent her head with stiff dignity. “Your kindness is appreciated, lhesh.”
Tariic hadn’t been expecting that. His ears went back and his thin lips pulled away from sharp teeth as he considered her. At his side, Midian, too, looked suspicious. “Tariic, she’s up to—” he started to say.
The hobgoblin silenced him with a gesture of the Rod of Kings. “She does what is commanded of her. I would do the same.” His ears flicked. “And I would search for my opportunity later.”
He lifted the rod and pointed it at the three guards. “Warriors of Rhukaan Taash,” he said in Goblin, “you will report any unusual or suspicious activities by the envoy of House Deneith to me. No bribes or tricks will prevent you.”
Ashi saw a flickering in the eyes of the guards as the power of the rod forced the command upon them. The hobgoblins beat their fists against their chests in salute and said in unison, “Mazo, lhesh!”
Tariic nodded in satisfaction and rose from his chair, stepping close to Ashi. “You can’t stop me,” he murmured.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes,” he said with a smile, then moved past her. “Oraan, you have the honor of first duty. Give Lady Ashi the present you carry.”
“Mazo,” the young warrior said again. He took a step forward and reached behind his back to produce a sword sheathed in a plain scabbard. He offered it to Ashi.
It was the honor blade of her grandfather, the sword that had been the first clue—even before the manifestation of her dragonmark—that she carried the blood of House Deneith. It was the sword she had lost to Makka. The sword that had killed Vounn and almost killed her. Ashi stared at the weapon but did not reach for it.
“You see how certain I am,” said Tariic. He turned away and walked out the door, gesturing for the bugbears and the two other hobgoblin warriors to follow. Midian was the last one to leave, sliding past Ashi like a weasel.
“The Rod of Kings teaches power,” he said. “Tariic will be an emperor. It would be better for you if you recognized that.”
She didn’t move. The gnome left, closing the door behind him. Oraan still stood with her sword held out to her, a final taunt from Tariic. Slowly the despair that Ashi had held off began to creep back into her, eating away at her anger and defiance until she was almost ready to admit that Tariic had won.
The opening of the door broke the moment. Oraan twisted around. Ashi looked up. Framed in the doorway was a hunched old bugbear woman with an armload of firewood. She froze under the combined gaze of Ashi and the warrior, then hefted her burden and nodded silently toward the fireplace. Oraan grunted. “Be quick.”
The old servant bobbed her head and entered, bumping the door closed with a hip as she came through. Oraan returned his gaze to Ashi. “Take Lhesh Tariic’s gift, Lady Ashi. It is an honor that he—”
Wood clattered as the servant dropped her burden. Oraan turned again, ears going back, mouth opening in anger.
The slim dagger that the old bugbear had concealed among the sticks of wood punched through his throat and up under his jaw, pinning his mouth closed. His eyes went wide. “Catch him!” ordered the servant in a tone that was harsh but quiet. She shoved hard on the dagger and twisted. Oraan went limp.
Ashi reacted without thought. She stepped sharply around the dead warrior and grabbed his corpse under the arms. The old bugbear kept her dagger pressed tight into the wound, stemming the worst of the blood, as her other hand grabbed the honor blade before it could fall to the floor. Her voice rose in an uncanny imitation of Oraan’s—“Clumsy fool!”—then dropped back into the broken cackle of age—“Forgive me, chib!”
Anyone outside the door would have thought two people were speaking. The bugbear