Word of Traitors_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [67]
As the gates swung open to reveal a chain-draped figure and an enthusiastic roar leaped from the audience, Ekhaas couldn’t help wondering if the people in the stands remembered that this was the man who had led a rebellion against Haruuc. Who had tried to starve Rhukaan Draal by burning crops and storehouses. She leaned forward to get a better look at him.
Scars covered much of the one-time warlord’s skin, but Keraal had far fewer visible injuries than she would have expected. Someone must have been giving him magical healing in preparation for his next match. He looked worn and weary, though, anticipation for the battle only a faint flicker in his eyes. His ears were down. He didn’t respond at all to the crowd’s cheering or to the closing of the gates behind him.
“He looks like a knife that’s been sharpened too many times,” Ashi said in her ear. “I don’t think Tariic likes that he’s still alive.”
Ekhaas looked up at the warlords’ box. Tariic barely seemed to be watching the arena, but she caught him in a glance, and in that glance was anger fit to kill. She remembered what Geth said about Tariic choosing Keraal’s opponents. “He’s got one more chance to kill him,” she said.
“He’s fought a tiger, an ettin, bladedancers and berserkers,” said Ashi. “What else can Tariic throw at him?”
The answer came from the announcer’s speaking trumpet. “Keraal fights the Five Homas, hunters of the Talenta Plains!”
“The Talenta Plains?” Ashi asked. “Halflings?”
The gates opposite Keraal shuddered and jerked as something on the other side bumped them in its eagerness for combat. Ekhaas felt her throat clench, partly in amazement, partly in involuntary anticipation of inevitable bloodshed. “No,” she said, her voice feeling thick. “Not just halflings, I think.”
The gates shuddered again, then were forced wide as Keraal’s opponents emerged. Those gathered in the arena fell into a stunned silence—then shouted even louder than they had for Keraal. “Rond betch!” gasped Ashi.
“Khaavolaar!” said Ekhaas.
Halflings, yes. The same size as goblins, though with finer limbs and human-like features. And five of them, dressed in leathers painted in bright pigments, embellished with colored stones, and stitched in elaborate patterns. Their hair, coated with some kind of pale clay, rose in wild ridges and matted clumps above the bone masks that concealed their faces. Their weapons were glaives—wide, sharp blades pointed like a spear, edged like an axe, and set on long, curved poles.
They were mounted on the great lizards of the Talenta Plains, all of the creatures decorated like their riders so that it was difficult to tell where the shimmering colors of scales ended and vibrant paint began. Four of the halfling hunters rode lizards as tall as a hobgoblin that strode upright on their hind legs, powerful heads balanced by a thick tail. The beasts’ forelegs were small and grasping, their jaws terrifying, but their hind legs were the danger. They were massively muscular and the great toe of each foot carried a heavy claw as sharp as a sickle. The lizards prowled out into the arena, heads darting and nostrils flaring.
The fifth lizard came out more slowly. It was big, nearly twice the height of a hobgoblin in the length of its body alone, and easily twice that again from the small hook-beaked head on its lowslung neck to the tip of its long, powerful tail. A double row of bony plates rose from its back, but the beast had weapons as well as armor: the massive tail ended in a cluster of four long bony spikes. Its rider, nestled between the plates over its shoulders, used a small hook on the butt of his glaive’s shaft to prod the giant lizard just behind its skull. The creature raised its head as far as its neck would allow and let out a rumbling honk. The other four lizards answered with whistling shrieks imitated by their riders.
“What are they?” Ashi asked in awe.
“Clawfoots and a daggertail,” said Ekhaas. “Halflings may not put a lot