Haruuc looked down on the defeated warlord. Keraal tried to stand straight, but the shackles wouldn’t allow it-a length of chain between hands and feet forced him to hunch. The chains rattled as he began to shake.
Haruuc said nothing, but only gestured with the rod toward the tree. Dagii took Keraal’s arm and guided him over to stand beneath the stone branches, beside Vanii’s bier, then took several quick steps back. Keraal was left alone, staring up at the tree.
Haruuc whispered a word.
The grieving tree shivered-and moved. The curved segments of its branches ground together as they rotated. Haruuc whispered another word, and a thick stone limb bent down and curled around Keraal. The warlord screamed. Like a living tree caught in a storm or some weird undersea creature, the tree thrashed and whirled. Keraal was passed from branch to branch until he hung among the carved white stone. Then the ridges and thorns of the tree seemed to ripple, and Keraal shrieked again as they dug into his flesh.
The grooves cut into the branches from which he hung turned red as blood trickled through them. The grieving tree shivered again. Twitching and whimpering, Keraal hung in agony as the tree fed.
A strong person could linger on a grieving tree for days. Legends of Dhakaan told of arch-traitors and fallen heroes who had hung in a tree for a week or more.
Ekhaas saw some of the ambassadors of the other nations and some of the representatives of the dragonmarked houses-humans, elves, half-elves, a dwarf, a gnome-look away. No one of the goblin races did. Her gut twisted at Keraal’s agony and her ears went back. But saliva ran in her mouth and her tongue moved, touching the points of her teeth. Her heart beat faster, taking the place of the drum that had fallen silent.
One of the warlords moaned softly. Ekhaas didn’t look to see who.
Haruuc rose. He raised the Rod of Kings. “Let all witness,” he said, “the end of those who stand against Darguun! Haruuc Shaarat’kor fears no one. Darguun fears no one!”
“Haruuc!” shouted a voice. “Haruuc!” Other voices took up the chant. “Haruuc! Haruuc! Haruuc! Haruuc!” The throne room shook. Haruuc raised his hands in acknowledgment.
Then another voice called, “Give us war!”
Ekhaas saw Haruuc freeze. The chant that filled the room changed. “War! Haruuc! War! Haruuc! War! War! War!”
A smile spread across Haruuc’s face. “Darguuls!” he roared. “Was our nation not born in war? Were our people not born in war? From ancient days, have we not spread our power across the land?”
The knot in Ekhaas’s belly grew tighter. The ambassadors of the other nations of Khorvaire were looking at each other in a peculiar frenzy. All of them seemed to have moved a little bit away from the ambassador of Breland. Another groan drifted from Keraal on the grieving tree. Haruuc looked up at him-and it seemed to Ekhaas that his smile tightened once more. When he looked back to the warlords and clan chiefs, there was nothing easy in his manner. It was almost as if he fought to get the words out of his mouth. “Our strategy must be discussed! There must be an assembly!”
But enthusiasm got the better of the crowd. “Breland!” someone cried, and the Brelish ambassador twitched.
“Zilargo!”
“Northern Breland and then into Thrane!”
“Silence!” said Haruuc. He looked out over the court. “You think small! Are you hobgoblins or halflings? Breland, Thrane… what challenge would they be? Ancient blood demands an ancient enemy. As it was in the age of Dhakaan, goblins shall go into battle against elves!” He thrust the Rod of Kings out before him. “Let our blades fall on Valenar!”
For a moment, there was stunned silence in the throne room, then the court burst into a wave of cheers.
“Mothers of the dirge,” said Senen softly. “He’s going to do it. He’s going to start a war.”
Ekhaas’s ears rose high as she unraveled the lhesh’s scheme in her head. “No,” she said. “He’s going to stop one.”
Senen looked at her, but she just stared at Haruuc in amazement. It seemed that he glanced off to one side for an instant, off through the door that led from the dais, then smiled in triumph and raised his arms high above his head. The cheers of the crowd burst out anew.
CHAPTER THIRTY
As soon as they were back in Khaar Mbar’ost, Vounn had taken Ashi’s arm, pulled her away from the crowd streaming into Haruuc’s throne room, and taken her up to her chambers. “Put a pack together,” she had said. “You’re going to the House Orien compound. Forget the games-I want you back to Sterngate with the first Orien coach on the road. If Haruuc is talking about war, I don’t want you here.”
A few weeks ago, she would have argued with the lady seneschal. No more. She could see the danger as clearly as Vounn. Running back to the safety of Karrlakton felt cowardly. Staying in Darguun felt stupid. “What about you?” she’d asked.
Vounn had shaken her head. “I’ve lived through war. Business goes on. Deneith will need a strong voice in Darguun now more than ever.”
They were almost finished packing when the door of Ashi’s chamber slammed open. Ashi spun, her hand going for her sword. Vounn turned, too, harsh words on her lips. “Aruget! I told you no one-”
But Aruget and Krakuul were still standing beyond the doorway, staring at the panting shifter who pushed past them. Geth pointed at Ashi. “Haruuc needs your dragonmark,” he wheezed. “Now!”
“What? Why?”
“I’ll tell you on the way. Come with me!”
Ashi looked to Vounn. Her mentor pressed her lips together, then shook her head. “It’s your choice.”
“Ashi, if you come with me right now we might able to stop a war,” said Geth.
The muscles of Ashi’s jaw tightened. “Finish packing for me,” she told Vounn. “House Orien won’t be running any coaches yet.” She looked to Geth. “Go!”
Their footsteps echoed in the empty corridors. Everyone who mattered was in the throne room or lurking in the antechamber. Servants were in their quarters. Guards were outside trying to control the celebrations of Rhukaan Draal. They went down the stairs two at a time. “Talk,” said Ashi. “What’s happening?”
“The rod is trying to make Haruuc into a king-an emperor. That’s why he’s been acting the way he has.” In brief words, he described his argument with the lhesh.
When he was finished, Ashi cursed. “We were so worried about Haruuc using the powers of the rod, we didn’t think about the rod using him!”
“Why should we have thought of it? Grandfather Rat, why did we worry at all? Haruuc had all the power he needed without the rod!”
A terrible scream came up the stairs. Ashi lifted her head. Geth put his head down and ran faster. He came to the bottom of the stairs and paused, looking between corridors that led right or straight ahead.
“Straight!” said Ashi.
“Right is shorter,” said a voice from above.
Ashi and Geth looked up. Aruget was hurrying down the stairs after them.
“What are you doing here?” Ashi demanded.
“Orders of the lhesh. Krakuul or I are supposed to be with you or Lady Vounn at all times.” The hobgoblin leaped down the final few stairs with surprising agility.
Geth grabbed him. “How much did you hear?” he asked.
Aruget’s ears flicked. “Enough to know we shouldn’t argue. I already know more than I should about many things.” A thunderous chanting-Haruuc’s name, repeated over and over-filled the air, and Aruget pointed to the right. “Decide quickly. I know a shortcut.”
Geth bared his teeth, then let him go. “You better keep your mouth shut.”
The chant changed-
“War! Haruuc! War! Haruuc! War! War! War!”
