Word of Traitors_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [74]
He also tried to remind himself that the small room would soon also have a more triumphant memory attached to it. From here, Tariic’s reign as lhesh of Darguun would begin—although it was hard to be optimistic when the air in the room was stifling from the bodies crowded into it. Tariic, wearing bright armor of brass-chased steel, the chestplates worked into the pattern of a skull, the helmet riveted with rows of sharp blades. Razu, staff in hand, fussing as she awaited the arrival of the priests of Dol Arrah, Dol Dorn, and Balinor. A hobgoblin servant, likewise awaiting the appearance of the priests, held the spiked crown of Darguun on a velvet cushion. Daavn of Marhaan, grasping Tariic’s sword. Aguus of Traakuum, carrying a heavy cape of tiger skin edged in the soft white fur of a tiger’s belly. Munta the Gray, balancing a tray holding a pitcher of water and a silver basin.
And Geth, holding the false Rod of Kings. The shifter who had claimed—for nearly three weeks—the throne of a goblin nation and in doing so had saved it. His mouth curved into a grin.
“You look pleased with yourself,” said Munta. “Ready to give up the rod?”
“More than you know.”
Munta laughed. “I’ll tell you something Haruuc told me,” the old hobgoblin said. “Sometimes he wanted to leave the throne behind and go back to being the warlord of Rhukaan Taash or even just a warrior of the clan. He couldn’t, though. The throne held him tight.”
“He told me something like that once, too.”
Munta’s ears flicked and he smiled. “You’re luckier than most warriors who leave the battlefield to take a throne, Geth. You’ve tasted power but you have the chance to walk away—and without anybody trying to kill you!” He laughed again.
Geth laughed with him. Heads around the room turned to look at the pair of them. The stares didn’t bother Geth. He felt a flush of confidence. Beyond one of the room’s two doors, the throne room was full of all the warlords of Darguun and all the ambassadors and envoys in Rhukaan Draal. He could hear them. Soon the responsibility for Darguun would be in Tariic’s hands. All he had to do was keep the true rod hidden for a little longer. For a moment, he even dared to dream about what he’d do after they’d found a way to deal with the true rod. He had friends in Fairhaven in Aundair and in Zarash’ak in the Shadow Marches that he could trust to keep a secret. The stories he’d be able to tell them …
Across the room, Daavn said something to Tariic. The new lhesh laughed at it, but Daavn’s eyes darted toward Munta. The old warlord didn’t seem to notice, but there was something in Daavn’s gaze that Geth didn’t like. Something cunning. Something scheming.
The confidence he felt coalesced into a need to act. He’d held off telling Tariic about Vounn d’Deneith’s suspicions of Daavn for lack of any hard evidence. He’d never gotten the chance to bring Daavn and Ko the changeling face-to-face to see if there was any recognition between the two of them. Maybe there was one last thing he could do before he passed power on to Tariic.
He left Munta and crossed the room to the two warlords. “Tariic,” he said, ignoring Daavn, “I need to talk to you for a moment. Alone.”
He tipped his head to the door that opened into a corridor beyond the little room.
Under his helmet, Tariic smiled. “Of course.” He nodded to Daavn—who shot Geth an angry glare—and led the way out the door. Once they were in the corridor, he sighed extravagantly. “Maabet, if you think it’s hot in there, you should try wearing this.” He rapped his helmet. “What did you need to talk about?”
He seemed more relaxed than Geth had seen him since Haruuc’s death, but then Geth felt more relaxed, too. It almost seemed wrong to spoil that. He did it anyway. “It’s Daavn,” he said. “I think he’s been getting close to you so that he comes into power when you take the throne. Some of us think it may actually have been him, not Keraal, behind the attempt to kidnap Vounn. We don’t have anything more than guesses right now, but the changeling in the dungeon who made the attempt might be able to—”
“Wait.