If Ekhaas been any farther away from Haruuc and Vounn, though, she would have completely missed the words that the lhesh whispered, in the human tongue, into the lady seneschal’s ear. “Complain about the mercenaries from the Pin Galaac clan. Say they pick fights.”
She fought down her shock and glanced back just in time to see Vounn nod very slightly. Haruuc stepped back from her, his ears folding. “I trust I haven’t offended you, Lady Vounn,” he said, speaking out loud and in Goblin once more. “It has been too long since our great friends in House Deneith have sent someone of such prestige to us.”
Vounn smiled graciously. “Your welcome is accepted in the spirit in which it was offered, lhesh.” She touched a fist to her chest. “Honored greetings.”
Haruuc matched her smile. “I hope your time as envoy to my court will be enjoyable and profitable for both Deneith and Darguun,” he said, returning to his throne. “Tell me, do our fine warriors continue to please the lords of Deneith?” He looked out upon the assembled warlords as he spoke, including them in his pride and in his jovial mood.
“They please us and those who take their contracts,” said Vounn. She paused for a moment, then added, “although I have heard complaints about mercenaries from the Pin Galaac clan causing trouble.”
From the corner of her eye, Ekhaas saw one of the warlords flinch. His ears rose, and he turned to glare at another warlord. Ekhaas assumed that the first man was the chief of the Pin Galaac. She recognized the second from the broken hammer crest he wore on his armor-Daavn of the Marhaan. Confusion spread across his face and he tried to say something to the chief of the Pin Galaac, but the other warlord just turned away.
“Cause for concern,” said Haruuc, all of his attention on Vounn. “We will discuss it, but not tonight.” He picked up the red sword from the side of the throne, turned back to face the warlords, and slid the sword into its scabbard. “The assembly of the warlords is ended,” he said formally. “Think on what we have spoken of.”
“Mazo, lhesh,” answered the warlords. Fists struck chests in a unified salute, but Haruuc was already walking to a door at one side of the dais. He paused and spoke a few words to Razu, then left.
Beside Ekhaas, Chetiin’s eyes lit with a smile that he kept from his face. “What is it?” she asked him.
“Haruuc sows dissent,” he said. “Pin Galaac depends on its mercenaries to bring wealth to the clan, but it trains them with Marhaan. Haruuc has put a knife between two allies with that trick.”
Some of the warlords-the chief of Pin Galaac among them- looked like they were trying to get in close enough to exchange a few words with the new envoy of House Deneith, but Razu beat them to it. “Lhesh Haruuc wishes to speak with you privately,” she said. “Come with me.”
Razu led them through another door from the hall, this one below the dais, into a smaller audience chamber, then into a corridor beyond. Unlike ancient strongholds, such as Deneith’s Sentinel Tower, which had grown over centuries, Khaar Mbar’ost had been built all at once by House Cannith. The passages and rooms followed an orderly plan, but Razu led them quickly along so many hallways and up so many stairs that when they stopped, Ekhaas had only the most general idea of where they were. Razu exchanged words with two hobgoblins standing guard before an unassuming door. She gestured for Aruget, Thuun, and Krakuul to remain outside, then opened the door and escorted the others through.
Haruuc was waiting for them in a chair by a window that opened onto the night. They were high in the fortress, but the sounds of Rhukaan Draal still drifted up to them. Haruuc had set aside his sword and some pieces of his armor. He looked tired and surprisingly old-he looked his age, Ekhaas realized.
Tiredness vanished as he rose, though. “Ta muut, Razu. Va,” he said. Razu nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her. Haruuc went directly to Vounn and took her hands in a gesture of greeting that, while still distinctly human, would have been far less scandalous in court. “Lady Vounn,” he said, speaking in her language, “I apologize for dragging you into our intrigues from the first moment of your arrival, but you’ve rendered me aid. I’m grateful.”
“Words from a friend are a gift given freely,” said Vounn. “But I understand this isn’t the only time you intend to involve House Deneith in your politics.”
Her words were light but direct. Haruuc’s ears bent forward. “Never intentionally. As I recall, the Korth Edicts forbid the dragonmarked houses from engaging in the dirty game of politics. Your presence in my court is based entirely on the importance of our trade with Deneith.”
Vounn smiled and nodded.
Haruuc smiled back and released Vounn’s hands. “I see that you have already spoken with Tariic about the reason I wanted to bring you here.”
“I’ve said nothing you didn’t want me to say, Uncle,” Tariic said quickly. Haruuc waved his hand dismissively.
“Don’t be concerned, Tariic. You’ve done well. I’m pleased.” He looked over the rest of the group standing beside the door. “Saa, Ekhaas duur’kala,” he said. “Mo’saa, Chetiin, old friend. I’m pleased with you both as well.”
Unlike the others who had greeted them, however, Haruuc examined Ashi and Midian. Tariic turned to introduce them. “Uncle, this is-”
“-my charge, Ashi d’Deneith,” said Vounn. She gave a little gesture, and Ashi stepped forward and bowed deeply to the lhesh. Ekhaas found herself holding her breath. If Haruuc questioned Ashi’s presence, their lie to Vounn in Sentinel Tower would be uncovered.
But all that Haruuc revealed was pleasure. “Ashi d’Deneith, bearer of the Siberys Mark of Sentinel. Saa’atcha! We must speak at another time.”
Ekhaas let her breath out and caught a glimpse of similar relief on Ashi’s face. If Haruuc suspected something-and she was certain the canny warlord did-he said nothing. Ashi’s decision to remove her scarf had been a blessing. Haruuc must have recognized the mark, remembered Ekhaas’s tale of the Shadow Marches, and guessed who Ashi was. Tariic looked relieved, too. He turned to introduce Midian.
And a curious thought stirred in Ekhaas’s mind. She knew why Haruuc hadn’t expected Ashi’s presence. Why didn’t he recognize Midian when the gnome was there at his request?
Both her curiosity and Tariic’s introduction were cut short as the door opened again and four more hobgoblins entered. Two of them were Munta the Gray and Dagii. The third was an older hobgoblin she didn’t recognize. The fourth, however, she knew well.
Senen Dhakaan, ambassador of the Kech Volaar to the court of Haruuc, pointed a finger at Midian and, in a voice that rang with the trained tones of the senior duur’kala that she was, said, “What is he doing here?”
She spoke in Goblin, but Ekhaas was certain that everyone understood her tone. Senen’s eyes fell on her, demanding an answer, and Ekhaas said, “Haruuc hired him, chib.”
Haruuc’s ears rose. Senen turned on him. “You risk your alliance with our clan, Haruuc,” she said, her voice seething. “This gnome is Midian Mit Davandi. He’s known to the Kech Volaar and among the worst of the thieves and grave robbers who hide behind the mantle of the Library of Korranberg. He’s no better than a chaat’oor!”
Midian’s eyes and expression showed that he’d followed her accusations. “Now wait-” he said in the same language, but Haruuc cut him off.
“Be silent!” the lhesh growled. He stood tall and years seemed to drop from his scowling face. “Senen Dhakaan, control your anger! You forget your place. I wouldn’t jeopardize our alliance. I didn’t hire him!”
“I did,” said Tariic. All of them stared at him-Senen in anger, Haruuc in amazement, Midian in utter surprise. Tariic’s face flushed with guilt. “I hired him in your name, Uncle. We need more than legends. We need history, and Midian was recommended to me as the Library of Korranberg’s best field researcher.”
“Best thief!” said Senen.
“I am not a thief!” Midian snapped.