Word of Traitors_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [66]
She thrust out her staff. “Iizan of Ghaal Sehn. Aguus of Traakuum. Garaad of Vaniish Kai. Tariic of Rhukaan Taash. You believe you have the strength to take the throne of Darguun as lhesh. With the warlords of Darguun to judge you and before the people of Darguun”—her staff swung around to encompass the crowd in the arena—“step forward and claim it!”
The sound of all the unseen drums surged together into a powerful, throbbing beat that Ekhaas felt in her belly. The crowd remained very nearly silent, however. Ekhaas could see the four claimants studying Geth and each other.
Iizan moved, taking a slow step forward. His eyes swung around the assembled warlords.
One … two … three of them met his gaze. The rest looked down or up or simply away, anywhere but into his face. Among the stands, there were only scattered shouts. Iizan trembled and took another, tentative step, still searching the faces of the warlords for support, but even those who had met his gaze before looked away. The shouts from the stands gave way to mocking hoots. Iizan stopped where he stood, his face pale, his ears sagging.
Garaad, Tariic, and Aguus didn’t wait to take turns. As Iizan stood in shame, they stepped out almost at the same time. The noise in the stands exploded and once again it was impossible to tell who had the greatest support from the people. It was simpler, though, to tell who had support among the warlords. Aguus and Garaad advanced across the sand step by step, finding and then losing the gazes of the lords of Darguun. Garaad made it several paces beyond Iizan before the last of his supporters looked away. Aguus stopped a short way beyond that.
Tariic’s stride was casual, almost arrogant. He didn’t pause to search for support, he paused to accept it. As Garaad and then Aguus stopped, it became abundantly clear whom the people of Darguun—or at least those of Rhukaan Draal—favored as well. One loud voice broke free to rise above the others. “Tariic and victory over the Valenar!”
Tariic lifted his head and pointed out into the crowd in the general direction of the shout. The noise in the arena seemed to double. Tariic strode across the sand, stopped in front of Geth, bowed his head, then stepped to the shifter’s side and raised his hand.
Warlords and people alike roared their approval of the next lhesh of Darguun.
He’s done it, thought Ekhaas. Ashi squeezed her hand. Ekhaas squeezed back.
Razu didn’t appear again to make any kind of formal announcement of Tariic’s succession to the throne. There really wasn’t any need. Aguus, Garaad, and Iizan came forward and knelt before him in acknowledgement of his triumph—a true pledge of allegiance would come after his coronation. The rhythm of the drums shifted into something almost festive, and the warlords, Tariic, and Geth retreated from the arena to the cheers of the crowd. A few moments later, Tariic and Geth appeared together at the rail of the warlords’ box. Tariic waved once more to the crowd, allowed them to cheer a little longer, then nodded to the announcer, who had reclaimed his platform. The drums fell silent, and so did much of the crowd. The event, aside from the selection of the lhesh, that had driven their anticipation through much of the day had arrived.
The announcer raised his speaking trumpet to his mouth. “By tradition, the final match of the games honors both the old warlord and the new with the finest fighters available. Today we honor Lhesh Haruuc”—a cheer from the crowd—“and Lhesh Tariic”—a second cheer—“with the final battle of the only man to fight matches on all five days of the games!”
A rumble