Word of Traitors_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [172]
Geth glanced back to the platform. The warlords who had seized Ashi were as confused as the crowd below. Their grips went slack—and Ashi pulled away from them, punching at one, cracking an elbow across Garaad’s face, then twisting to her feet. Her eyes met Geth’s and she gave him a ierce grin. Relief spread through Geth, so sharp it made him feel almost sick. He turned and leaped onto the back of the nearest horse.
Dagii’s gaze snapped around at Tenquis’s charge, but as the tiefling artificer cast pale liquid on the air and Tariic choked on green smoke, the warlord blinked and his gray eyes cleared. He stared down and Ekhaas saw horror in his face. “Taarka’nu, I didn’t—”
The hole that had opened in her closed a little, but not all the way. Her legs trembled. Her head spun. Tenquis was already shouting at Geth. On the platform, Ashi was fighting free. Ekhaas looked up at Dagii and cut him off with curt words. “Tariic has the true rod. Ride or he’ll have you again!”
His ears pressed back. “If I ride, he’ll have you. Take a horse. I’ll cover your retreat.” He whipped up his sword, whirling it around his head. “Iron Fox, forward! Take defensive lines! Protect the lhesh!”
Soldiers already in motion changed their step with disciplined obedience, rushing toward the platform. Ekhaas stared at Dagii. His eyes narrowed and his mouth curved in a smile that was both fond and hard. “Go, taarka’nu! Fight another day.”
Her ears rose. “Great glory, ruuska’te,” she said, then raced for Tenquis and the horses. Geth was already in the saddle with Chetiin clinging behind him. Ekhaas’s foot found a stirrup and she mounted.
The green vapor that burst around Makka seared his nostrils and stung his eyes, but at least he didn’t choke. Tariic, caught mid-breath, sucked the stuff in deep and doubled over in wracking coughs. Pradoor coughed as well, wheezing between gasps “What is this? What’s happening?”
Makka held his breath, tore the sword from his belt, and leaped through the smoke. Wisps of it caught in his hair and scorched his skin, but he could see again.
He could see revenge slipping away from him.
Geth and Chetiin were already on horseback. Ekhaas of Kech Volaar was mounting. Dagii was rushing forward as if eager to meet his death. Ashi of Deneith—
—was still on the platform and the way between them was open.
The rage of the Fury fell over him. Tariic had denied him his vengeance for too long! Howling the anger that had seethed in him since these taat had destroyed his tribe’s camp and his power with it, Makka charged. The sword of Deneith flashed in his grip. Ashi turned. She was unarmed. Defenseless.
Good.
He lunged.
CHAPTER
THIRTY
3 Aryth
Ekhaas saw it happen.
Between one heartbeat and the next, Makka burst through the veil of green vapor and charged with a roar like wind in the mountains. Ashi turned but the bugbear’s sword—the bright blade that he had stolen from her—was already thrusting at her belly.
Then, darting from among warlords clustered on the platform, Vounn threw herself between sword and victim.
There was a rippling in the air around her, and Ekhaas recognized the shield of force conjured by Vounn’s dragonmark. Ashi’s mentor twisted as she moved, using her phantom armor to deflect the blade.
It didn’t work. Makka’s mighty blow plunged his sword through the rippling shield into Vounn’s body—and through her into Ashi. The force of it slammed both women back so hard that Ashi’s arms seemed to wrap around Vounn.
Makka held them there for a long moment, then released the hilt of the sword. Vounn and Ashi fell together, joined by the honor blade of Deneith, hitting the platform with a hard impact that drove a cry of pain from Ashi. Ekhaas thought she saw