The doom of Kings tlod-1

by Don Bassingthwaite

  “Good enough,” said Chetiin without seeming to move his lips. “Less good when it comes to the Silent Clans.”

  Diplomatic status of the delegation confirmed, the soldiers marched back to the fortress. The delegation was left alone on the platform save for laboring porters and a single gnome who sat on a bench reading a small book bound in yellow silk. As the soldiers marched away, he glanced after them, then closed the book, hopped down from the bench, and sauntered over to look up at the Darguuls. Geth watched him. Startling blue eyes peered out of a long, sun-browned face made even longer by a shock of pale hair above and a curling patch of beard below. The gnome wore clothes that were dusty from travel and sturdy boots that had seen hard use.

  “Tariic of Rhukaan Taash?” he asked. His voice carried the accent of Zilargo and was surprisingly rich coming from a body that was no larger than a goblin’s.

  Tariic looked down at him and gave the gnome a deep nod of respect. “Master Davandi,” he said, then gestured for Geth, Ekhaas, and the others to join him. He presented them all by name, then introduced the gnome. “This is Midian Mit Davandi of the Library of Korranberg.”

  “The last person to join us,” said Vounn with a cool glance at Tariic. “And tell me, what is his role in your mysterious plans?”

  Midian raised a thin eyebrow, and his lips curved. “I make the tea.”

  Geth couldn’t hold back a smile. Vounn saw it and turned her nose up at him. He ignored her.

  “Midian is a researcher for the library,” Tariic said in answer to Vounn’s question. “He’s an expert in the history of the Empire of Dhakaan. And I’m certain you’ll be pleased to know that he’s not a guest of Haruuc, but an employee-Midian is being paid for his services.”

  “That tells me very little about what he’s doing here.”

  Tariic’s ears lay back. “You shouldn’t concern yourself with every matter of Haruuc’s court, Vounn,” he said. “Not all of them affect House Deneith. If my uncle wishes to tell you more, I’m certain he will.”

  Vounn said nothing more, but her jaw tightened. Midian, however, leaned over, nudged the lady seneschal’s leg with his elbow, and gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Haruuc wants to know how the Dhakaani made tea,” he said in a mock-whisper.

  This time, Geth wasn’t the only one who smiled. Ashi and Tariic laughed. Chetiin’s mouth twitched. Even Vounn’s face relaxed slightly at the gnome’s humor, and a smile of triumph at having cracked her icy shell put a wide grin on Midian’s face. He turned back to Tariic. “My pack is at the inn with your horses. I’m ready to go when you are.”

  “You found our horses?” Tariic asked.

  Midian shrugged. “Sterngate is a fortress. There aren’t that many places for visitors, especially Darguuls, to stable their mounts.”

  Of the group that had gathered around Midian, only one had betrayed no humor at the gnome’s joking manner. When Tariic had announced Midian’s area of research, Ekhaas’s eyes had widened and her ears had flicked sharply. As the rest of the delegation finished unloading all of their gear from the lightning rail coach and prepared for the short walk to the fortress, Geth moved close to Ekhaas and asked, “What’s wrong?”

  Ekhaas shook her head. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  “It doesn’t look that way.” He followed her eyes. Her gaze was on Midian. “You don’t like him. You didn’t know he was coming?”

  “No, I didn’t. And I don’t know if I like him or not yet, but he shouldn’t be here. I can’t believe Haruuc hired him.” She shouldered her pack and turned away. Puzzled, Geth let her go.

  The moment everything-including the two caged tigers-was unloaded, the whistle screamed from the crew cart of the lightning rail and the coach began to move, continuing its journey. The delegation made its way from the platform, through the station, and onto the road beyond. At the wide gate where the trade road entered Sterngate, the lieutenant who had checked their papers waited with a pair of soldiers. They fell in behind the delegation, not so much as an escort, Geth guessed, as to be certain no Darguuls stayed behind or strayed from the road.

  It would have been difficult to do either. The road was virtually a tunnel within the fortress, walled in and roofed over. When the tunnel finally did open up, it was onto a wide courtyard with only four exits: the trade road behind, the trade road ahead, a heavily guarded gate leading into the fortress proper, and, incongruously, a large inn bearing the House Ghallanda seal built as a separate structure within the courtyard.

  “The captain of Sterngate doesn’t like visitors getting into the fortress,” said Chetiin. “Anyone who needs to stay the night here stays at the inn.”

  “I don’t imagine House Ghallanda makes a profit here,” Ashi said.

  Close to her, Midian spoke up. “You’d be surprised. Sterngate and Marguul Pass are the easiest way to reach Rhukaan Draal and most of central Darguun. I’ve stayed at the Sterngate Inn myself, and House Orien caravans come this way frequently. Ghallanda has a captive market here. They put good money into Sterngate. You wouldn’t see that kind of attention at an end of the trail inn.”

  He pointed as a beautiful young human woman dressed in a barmaid’s dress came out to tend the flowers that grew in window boxes outside the inn. Her hands moved dexterously among the flowers, though she glanced so frequently over her shoulders at the Darguuls that she might as well have been staring openly. It made Geth’s neck itch. Midian excused himself and went into the inn, returning a few moments later with a pack that included two large and heavy books strapped to it. He winked at the young woman on his way in and out, and she blushed both times.

  Tariic sent several soldiers to the long stables behind the inn. They came back leading eight lively, bright-eyed horses. “Magebred for swiftness and endurance,” said Tariic, and for the first time Geth saw Vounn give a nod of approval.

  “Magebred horses and a first class lightning rail cart,” she said. “You have an appreciation for the finer things, Tariic.”

  “For the things that can make life better,” said Tariic, his ears standing proudly. “My uncle brought Darguun into the world. I want to bring the world into Darguun.” He ran a hand along the neck of one of the horses, then raised his voice and spoke to the rest of the delegation. “We separate into two groups beyond Sterngate. Vounn, Ashi, Geth, and Ekhaas will ride with me to Rhukaan Draal. Take light packs: the rest of your gear and baggage will follow. Thuun, Aruget, Krakuul”-He pointed at three of the elite among his soldiers-”you’ll ride with us as well. The rest of you take rooms at the inn. We’ll have mounts and wagons sent to you from Matshuc Zaal. Fess, we need a horse for Ashi, so you’ll travel with the others.”

  “Mazo,” said the final soldier. The rest of the delegation and the remaining soldiers broke up and moved toward the inn. The barmaid saw them coming and hastened inside, presumably to warn the innkeeper of the business headed their way. The three soldiers Tariic had singled out chose horses and began to lash their gear across the animals’ rumps. From their packs, they pulled banners-the scarlet blade of Lhesh Haruuc Shaarat’kor over a spiked crown-that they fixed to short poles on harnesses mounted across their backs.

  Tariic looked to Chetiin and Midian. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I have no smaller mounts. You’ll have to ride with someone else.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” said Midian. “I brought my own horse.” He reached into his pack and removed a silver horseshoe. Flinging it to the ground, he spoke a word. The horseshoe bounced once, then again, then a third time in perfect rhythm, and suddenly a white pony was cantering in a circle around them. It slowed and walked up to Midian, nuzzling him.

  “Convenient,” Tariic said. “I didn’t realize you were a spellcaster.”

  “No more than any other gnome,” Midian answered modestly. “I just carry a few trinkets to make traveling easier.”

  When they were all ready to move out, Chetiin leaped easily up behind Geth, balancing with no more difficulty than if he’d been
sitting in a chair. Geth’s horse didn’t even seem aware of the extra rider. As they set off down the tunnel that was the trade road heading east out of Sterngate, it seemed to Geth that even at a leisurely walk they were moving almost as quickly as a normal unburdened horse might go at a trot. It was tempting to give the horse its head and see how fast it could really run.

  “What about the tigers?” Ashi called, her voice echoing in the tunnel. “Couldn’t your cavalry riders have come with us?”

  Tariic shook his head. “The other party will need them as guards. There are bandits on the road to Rhukaan Draal and a slow moving caravan makes a tempting target.”

  “Even one riding under Haruuc’s banner?”

  “Even one riding under Haruuc’s banner. They’ll be less likely to come after a small group on horseback and riding fast.” His face took on a more grim expression. “Especially one that’s well-armed. After we’re through Marguul Pass, we’ll ride in armor.”

  They emerged from the tunnel and onto the open trade road into sunlight so bright that Geth had to shade his eyes. When he’d blinked away the brightness, he let out a low whistle of amazement.

  The Seawall Mountains rose above them. Without the bulk of Sterngate obscuring the view, Geth had a sudden feeling that the massive peaks might fall down from the sky to crush him. Adding to that sense of oppressive height was the barrenness of the slopes close to Sterngate. For perhaps two hundred paces or more from the fortress’s walls, the ground had been swept clear of trees and bushes. In their place was a labyrinth of ditches and embankments that made the earthworks protecting the lightning rail station look like the diggings of a child. The only easy path was along the road.

  “All to keep Darguuls out of Breland?” Geth asked Chetiin over his shoulder.

  “Cyre wasn’t the only nation to lose territory in the creation of Darguun,” said the goblin. “By that point in the war, Breland had been in possession of Marguul Pass and lands east of the Seawall for more than twenty years. Haruuc’s uprising left the Brelish frightened-and their defeat at the Battle of Marguul Pass in 970 frightened them even more. They’re still scared.”

  “Do they need to be?”

  “That depends on how successful you are.”

  Geth grimaced.

  Some time around mid-day they left the defenses of Sterngate behind and entered Marguul Pass itself. Steep slopes and ravines surrounded the constantly climbing road-hostile terrain to try to ride, let alone march, through. Side tracks that looked like they had been worn into the rock and thin soil over centuries wandered off from the road to vanish into the rugged landscape. Occasionally, the side paths seemed to split off from the road, trace around the far side of a hill or outcropping, then return to the main road. In more than one spot, cobbles displaced by time poked out through the dirt of these looping paths like broken teeth. With Chetiin dozing behind him, Geth stared at the strange side paths each time they appeared, trying to figure out why they were there.

  Eventually, Ekhaas caught him staring and supplied an answer. “Marguul Pass has been one of the major routes through these mountains since the earliest days of my people,” she said. “When House Orien built the trade roads, they followed older roads laid down by the Empire of Dhakaan. The side loops mark the places where humans went through when Dhakaani went around.”

  “Some of these side paths look like roads of their own,” said Ashi. “They don’t come back.”

  “They are roads. Dhakaani lived in the mountains as well as in the lowlands. Often they lived beneath the mountains too. Some of the people who still live in the mountains use the old roads when they come this way. Look there.” She pointed along one of the paths that wound into the brush on a hillside. “That leads to the remains of a cliff-town that was once Kaal, where nobles of the empire went to bathe in healing springs.”

  Geth shaded his eyes and peered into the distance. Far away, he thought he could see what looked like worn blocks carved out of the living rock of an exposed rock face. “Grandmother Wolf,” he said. “Is that it?”

  Ekhaas nodded, but, riding behind them, Midian coughed discreetly. “It’s not Kaal,” he said.

  Ekhaas’s face darkened and her ears rose. “It is Kaal,” she said. “The Kech Volaar have records of it. One of the emperors of Dhakaan even maintained a palace there. There’s a famous song written by one of his wives about the view from the baths in the cliff-side.”

  “Maybe he kept a palace at a place called Kaal, but that’s not it.” The gnome kept his voice polite. “I don’t know about this song, but in my experience, descriptions of historic views are notoriously vague. Whatever view your song describes could probably match dozens of places in these mountains. Those ruins are old, no question, but they were built after the fall of the empire as a warlord’s stronghold. The design confirms it. The ‘baths’ there are cisterns built to hold water, nothing more.”

  Ekhaas’s mouth opened and closed several times, but no sound came out. Kicking her heels into her horse’s side, she rode forward, away from the gnome. Ashi looked at Geth, then rode after her. Geth looked at Midian. “How do you know that this place isn’t Kaal?” he asked.

  “A research team from the Library of Korranberg studied the place before the outbreak of the Last War,” Midian said with a shrug. “They wrote a classic paper. Very famous. Your Ekhaas shouldn’t be so sensitive. Kech Volaar legends and songs are interesting starting points, but they don’t always represent the facts.”

  Geth could guess now why Ekhaas hadn’t been pleased to have Midian join their party. He felt a growl rising inside him but held it back. “I’ve seen things out of legend,” he said. “Legends have saved my life.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Midian said. He pointed at the sword hanging at Geth’s side. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re wearing a legend. But the Empire of Dhakaan rose fifteen thousand years ago from even older goblin kingdoms. It fell more than five thousand years ago. The legends to which modern Dhakaani clans like the Kech Volaar cling have been repeated and venerated for millennia. They’re not always accurate.” He winked at Geth conspiratorially. “That’s why I’m here-to give another perspective on the legends.”

  “Wait, you know something about Haruuc’s task?” Geth asked.

  Midian smiled, white teeth flashing in his tanned face. “No more than you do, I suspect, but it involves Dhakaani history and that’s what’s important to me. By Aureon’s blue quill, whatever happens, it’s going to make a fine paper!” He looked ahead to where Ekhaas, accompanied by Ashi, was glowering back at him and sighed, then urged his pony into a trot. “We can talk more later, Geth,” he called back, “but I think I’d better go try to make peace with her, or we’ll have an unpleasant journey. Duur’kala don’t often have a good opinion of Korranberg researchers to begin with.”

  “I wonder why,” Geth said under his breath.

  Chetiin’s voice drifted up from behind him. “The ancient hobgoblins who first encountered gnomes in the jungles between the Seawall Mountains and the Howling Peaks thought they were somehow related to giant rats.”

  “Did they really?”

  “That’s what the legends say,” Chetiin said dryly, “but they’re not always accurate.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  They reached the crest of the pass at dusk. The red light of the setting sun fell full on a massive keep that blocked the pass from side to side. The closer they drew to the keep, however, the less certain Geth was that it really was just a keep. The nearest side of the fortress was largely a blank wall with a reinforced ramp leading up to a single gate wide enough for three wagons to drive through at the same time. The road ended at the wall of the keep, though unlike at Sterngate, it didn’t run directly to the keep’s gate-ramp and gate were strangely misaligned, off-center with the road by a good ten paces. Parapets topped the wall, but behind them were a cluster of towers that rose so high it seemed as if they’d been built on top of the keep. Even odder were the buttresses filling the
narrow gaps between the keep and the natural walls of the pass. Geth was no engineer, but it looked as if they were an afterthought, as if the entire keep had been dropped into the pass and efforts made afterward to make it fit the space.

  Hobgoblins and bugbears guarded the ramp, gate, and parapets. Geth could hear them calling to each other as the mounted party approached and they recognized Haruuc’s banner. When their party was about fifty paces from the great wall, Aruget, Krakuul, and Thuun dismounted. Facing the keep, they gave a kind of salute by thumping their chests with a fist. Tariic saluted as well, though he remained mounted.

  The guards at the foot of the ramp returned the salute. Tariic led the way forward once again, riding up to a hobgoblin wearing polished armor painted with a silhouette of what Geth assumed were jagged teeth, then realized were actually mountains.

  Geth leaned over to Ekhaas. “What is this place?”

  “Matshuc Zaal,” she said. “The Stolen Fortress. Once it belonged to Breland as Veldarren, the largest of the mobile fortresses built during the Last War. They tried to bring it against Haruuc in 970 in the Battle of Marguul Pass. It was a disaster for them. Haruuc’s general trapped Veldarren in the pass and brought it down. Darguun’s triumph here forced Breland to sue for peace. It’s a tradition for Darguul soldiers to honor the dead of the battle whenever they approach. Matshuc Zaal will never move again, but now it marks the border of Darguun.”

  They spent their first night in Darguun within the walls of Matshuc Zaal. Geth could truthfully say it was unlike any other fortress he’d ever been in. There were frequent reminders of Matshuc Zaal’s first life as Veldarren-splashes of Brelish blue paint, human-styled carvings, and a layout familiar to anyone with military experience-but it was all dominated by thirty years of occupation by Darguuls. Most of the carvings and decorations that might have appealed to a human sensibility had been hacked away at some point in the past and replaced, where decoration was called for, with garish fixtures of brass and banners depicting clan symbols. What Geth might have expected to be crew quarters, and probably had been intended as such, was instead the mess hall, with the open space of the mess hall turned into, from the sounds he heard as they passed, a training space.