“I was trying to stop a thief.” Ashi grimaced. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t tried to stop you, neither of us would have been arrested and you would have gotten away with your little casket.”
“je’shaarat mipaa kotanaa,” said Ekhaas. Ashi looked at her, and she translated the expression: “A sharp sword hurts less when you fall on it.”
Ashi wrinkled her nose. “What did you want with the casket?” she asked again. “I saw one of the watchmen trying to open it, but he couldn’t.”
“It’s sealed. It’s not meant to be opened.”
“Then what’s inside? Why would you steal it if…?” Ashi’s question trailed off and she twisted around to face Ekhaas directly. Anger rose in her voice. “You said Deneith had no right to what was in the memorial. Is the casket an artifact of Dhakaan? Are you still trying to protect things from us shaat’aar?”
Anger crept into Ekhaas as well, though she kept it out of her voice. Her ears, however, bent back. “Chaat’oor,” she corrected. It was a harsh word, usually translated as “defilers.” The word was old, as ancient as the dying of the great empire, and it referred to any race not native to the continent of Khorvaire. Usually that meant humans, but it could refer equally to the changelings or shifters who had joined the migration to the land that had once belonged to her people. When she’d first met Ashi, Geth, Singe, and Dandra in the south of the country of Droaam, she’d called them chaat’oor, assuming they’d come to loot the Dhakaani ruins in the area. She’d discovered a greater respect for them, but the reverence for the past that was the duty and right of every descendant of Dhakaan was not something to be dismissed.
“Yes,” she said, glaring back at Ashi, “it’s an artifact of Dhakaan. And yes, I was taking it back. It belongs in a shrine, not in a dingy cabinet. It’s a reliquary. It holds the tongue and brain of Duural Rhuvet, the last great strategist of the empire. For untold generations, it was kept by our greatest leaders and carried onto the battlefield as a source of inspiration-until it was lost at the Battle of Starkhan.” A little of her seething anger broke through her control. “An important part of our history, carried away as a looted curiosity!”
Ashi twitched. “Couldn’t you have just asked for it back?”
“If your House had known what it had in its possession, what treasure it had seized at Starkhan, would it have given it back?”
“Probably not.” Ashi shifted as if uncomfortable, then asked, “Ekhaas, what’s the Battle of Starkhan?”
Ekhaas stared at her. “Starkhan was the key battle in the Torlaac Conquest.”
Ashi shook her head.
Ekhaas’s ears drooped in disbelief. “The campaign that memorial was dedicated to! Khaavolaar, what has Deneith been teaching you?”
“How to be a lady.” Ashi scowled when Ekhaas raised her eyebrows. “Don’t ask,” she said. “I don’t want to think about it. Have you heard from any of the others? I haven’t had any news. Have you heard from Dandra or Singe?” Her face brightened. “What about Geth?”
Geth. Ekhaas held her expression, voice, and ears absolutely neutral. “I haven’t heard from him-or anyone,” she said.
“Oh.” Ashi looked disappointed. “I would have thought you might have kept in touch with Geth because of his sword.”
“Aram,” said Ekhaas, giving Geth’s Dhakaani sword its proper name. She flicked her ears casually. “I’d like to know how he is, but both he and I are wanderers. Either of us could be anywhere.”
“Too bad. I feel so cut off.” Ashi left the door and sat on the bench beside Ekhaas. The hobgoblin felt sorry for her. She was a wanderer and a loner by nature, but Ashi had left first the clan that had raised her, then the newfound friends who had introduced her to the wider world to become part of House Deneith. She put her hand on Ashi’s in a human gesture of empathy.
“If I’d known you were here in Karrlakton, I would have come looking for you,” she said.
Ashi snorted. “What? You would have stolen the casket, then carried it along to Sentinel Tower to see me?”
“I would have gone to see you first. I would have come as soon as I arrived today.”
Ashi pushed Ekhaas’s hand away with a grin. “You only arrived today? You didn’t waste any time before you tried to steal-” She paused abruptly and gave Ekhaas a narrow look. “You arrived today? The same day an emissary from Darguun arrived to meet with House Deneith?”
“Coincidence,” Ekhaas said, but Ashi’s probing expression didn’t change. Ekhaas sighed, leaned her head back on the cold stone of the cell’s wall, and gave her some of the truth. “I’m here with Tariic,” she confessed. “Haruuc is courting the favor of my clan, the Kech Volaar. I’m part of Tariic’s delegation as a representative of my clan.”
“They didn’t have anyone more senior to send?” asked Ashi.
Ekhaas raised her ears in angry pride. “I am senior now,” she said. “The name of my clan means ‘Wordbearers’ in our tongue. The Kech Volaar gather history. The history of Dhakaan is the most important, but the duur’kala of the Kech Volaar gather tales of all kinds. When I returned from the Shadow Marches with the story of the discovery of Aram and the defeat of Dah’mir, I gained a certain amount of recognition in the clan.”
She stopped herself short of claiming that being sent to accompany Tariic was a reward, but she let Ashi assume what she would. There was still disbelief in her friend’s face. “Does Tariic know you were out stealing the casket?” Ashi asked.
“Ah.” Ekhaas’s ears dipped along with her pride. “Tariic is almost as much human as he is hobgoblin. He wouldn’t have understood… what needed to be done.” She bared sharp teeth. “Tonight was the best chance I had. I was supposed to be at a banquet given in Tariic’s honor, but I knew no one would miss me.” A harsh laugh from Ashi brought her head up. “What?” she asked.
“I was supposed to be at that banquet, too,” said Ashi. She stretched out her legs and tried to settle herself more comfortably on the hard bench. “Were you at the reception ceremony?”
“Yes, at the back of the delegation. It was astounding. The rhythm was perfect.” Her training as a duur’kala brought the music back into her memory and she clapped out the desperate rhythm of the climax. “Were you there?”
“I was supposed to be the one performing the sword dance.” Ashi’s mouth twisted. “My mentor decided I wasn’t good enough and sent my instructor out instead. We had an argument about it afterward.”
Ekhaas frowned. “That’s too bad. Tariic would have been even more impressed at having the bearer of the Mark of Siberys dance for him.”
Ashi flung up her hands. “That was the idea!”
“Who’s your mentor?”
“The person Tariic has come to Karrlakton to see.” Ashi sat back again. “Lady Seneschal Vounn d’Deneith.”
Once again, Ekhaas could only stare at Ashi, but this time she had no words. Ashi must have mistaken her silence for incredulity. Her mouth twisted even farther. “Tariic is lucky he only has to deal with her as a diplomat. Since I got here, she’s been hammering on me like a smith on a sword-and there’s nothing I can do about it.” She squeezed her hands into tight fists. “Rond betch, if I could stick a knife in her…”
She kept talking, pouring out a litany of restrictions and punishments that Ekhaas had to admit were more appropriate to the training of a child than a grown woman, but the duur’kala was only half-listening. Ideas and possibilities began rearranging themselves in her head. Her ears twitched. Blood of Six Kings, she thought, was it possible they could be so lucky?
There was scarcely a break in Ashi’s rambling tales of Vounn’s heavy-handed mentoring. Ekhaas had to speak over her to get a word in. “Ashi, how bad was the argument you had tonight with Vounn? Will she take you back?”
“Take me back?” Sitting forward, Ashi groaned. “Ekhaas, she’s never going to let me go. I don’t think I’m even a person to her. I’m just an asset of Deneith-or I will be once I’m trained to her satisfaction. Even then she’ll probably still want me under her thumb.” She lifted her head and looked around the cell, then laughed. “You know, I was almost frightened of what she’d do when the watch contacted Deneith and she found out I’d been arrested. Now I wish I could have been there to see the look on her face. I wonder how she reacted.”
Muffled voices from an outer room of the watch station reached Ekhaas’s ears. “I don’t think you’ll have to wait long to find out,” she said. One of the voices was the watch station commander, and it sounded as if the proud man was actually being subservient. The voices were getting closer. Ekhaas turned to Ashi. “Listen to me,” she
