Word of Traitors_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [17]
He’d heard about Haruuc’s death during his journey. A goblin in the southland had squeaked out the news, not that it had meant much to Makka. The end of a warrior—may the Keeper treasure his soul—but also a fitting end for a lowland sop who had turned dog for the humans. Makka had his vengeance to think about. Other goblins and hobgoblins along the way had confirmed the passage of the three he sought. Yes, two hobgoblins and a human with a dragonmark across her face had traveled that way. Yes, they had been going toward Rhukaan Draal. Yes, they had traveled with others: a shifter, a gnome, and a goblin who rode on a great black wolf. Makka had added three more deaths to his oath of vengeance.
Names had come later—those who had passed were heroes, acclaimed by Haruuc. Dagii of Mur Talaan, Ekhaas of Kech Volaar, Chetiin of the shaarat’khesh, Ashi of Deneith, Midian the gnome, Geth the shifter and shava to Haruuc. Later still, the news that Chetiin was Haruuc’s assassin and Geth now held the throne of Darguun. That had made Makka smile. His targets were chib. Killing them would bring him much honor.
And the Fury, it seemed, approved of his vengeance, because he found four of his targets with an ease that could only be an omen.
They were out in the open, marching in Haruuc’s funeral procession, unsuspecting of the death that had come for them. Dagii of Mur Talaan and a shifter that could only be Geth walked directly behind Haruuc—the lowland king made a wrinkled, pathetic corpse. Ekhaas of Kech Volaar was further back, and Ashi of Deneith walked with humans and other races near the rear of the procession. The riches borne at the very end of the parade of mourners gave Makka pause. So much wealth! He ground his teeth, closing out greed inspired by the Keeper, and turned back to his targets in the procession. They were the reason he had come.
They were well-protected. He would have to wait, but he had waited for prey many times. Makka chose his target. The human woman would be first. He would slay her with her own sword and leave the weapon in her steaming guts, letting the others know who was hunting them.
He shadowed the procession through the stinking crowds of Rhukaan Draal. When the city ended, he pushed forward until he was right against the wall beyond which the procession had passed. Heaving himself up against the iron fence atop the wall, Makka could see the marchers, but not Ashi in particular. That didn’t bother him. He’d pick up her trail again.
He had a good view of the tomb along the ridge and of the three hobgoblins standing alongside it. Only when the ceremony had started did he realize they were priests. The tips of his ears curled and a growl rumbled out of his belly. He’d heard that Haruuc had abandoned the Dark Six and the old ways of the dar to follow the Sovereign Host, but to bury a warlord or a chief without the sanction of the Keeper, god of death? As Haruuc’s throne-bearers descended into the tomb, Makka thought maybe the priests would at least make a sacrifice of them, but all of the bugbears returned to the surface and the tomb was sealed without blood being shed. Makka’s hand went to the muu’kron, the talisman of six knotted cords on his belt, and his fingers closed around the fang that was the token of the Keeper.
Along the wall, he could see a few others doing the same thing, though furtively. Makka felt a surge of disgust—Haruuc hadn’t turned all lowlanders to the worship of gentle gods, but he’d forced those who’d kept to the old traditions to hide their beliefs. He caught the token of the Fury, a bit of wood carved like a snake and polished smooth by his touch, in his fingers and prayed for a swift resolution to his vengeance so that he could return to the freedom of the mountains.
His prayer was answered. As the blasphemous ceremony ended and the crowd below the tomb broke up, he caught sight of Ashi again. He smiled.
The human woman stiffened, as if catching his