“Twice tak for standing with me,” he said simply.
Ashi’s pierced lips pressed tight. “I know something of being forgiven for past deeds, Geth. Who am I judge you?” She held out her hand and Geth took it, returning her grasp hand to forearm in a warrior’s grip. Ashi smiled. “I told Singe once that you were good enemy, Geth, but you’re a better friend. Do tai rond e reis-you have fierceness and strength. I’m proud to stand with you.”
“I think we all would have stood with you sooner if you hadn’t driven us away,” said Dandra. “Ashi, me, Natrac, Orshok-we were surprised, but we would have stayed to listen if you’d let us. I think the only one who’s really angry with you is Singe.”
Geth bared his teeth as he released Ashi’s hand. “And Robrand.”
Ashi spat on the ground. “I’m ashamed to share his blood. How much of his friendship was just a play until he had a chance to take his revenge on you?”
“Forget him,” Geth growled. “How are we going to rescue Singe, Natrac, and Orshok?”
“If you want my advice,” Ekhaas said grimly from above, “you’ll forget about your friends. If they’re not dead yet, they will be soon.” She dropped to the chasm floor, landed in a crouch, and rose to face them. “I don’t know much about Dah’mir, but I know Tzaryan Rrac. There’s a reason his dungeons are small. He doesn’t keep prisoners for long.”
“Robrand-the General-is a friend,” said Dandra. “He’ll try to keep them alive.”
“The same way he tried to keep Geth alive?” The hobgoblin stepped up to a large, angled rock that protruded from the rough face of the chasm. “You have no friends in Tzaryan Keep. You can’t stay here-you should flee while you can. The hills to the north open onto the Watching Wood-”
“Blood in your mouth!” snapped Ashi. “We won’t abandon them!”
Ekhaas’s ears just twitched. She turned back to the angled rock and thrust her fingers into what looked like nothing more than a large crack.
With the faintest of scrapes, the entire protrusion swung forward and up on a heavy metal arm to expose a dark, cramped tunnel. “Come,” said Ekhaas, and disappeared inside. Her voice echoed out. “There’s a handle on the inside of the door. Last one in pull it closed.”
Ashi scowled. “I don’t like her.”
“Neither do I,” agreed Geth. “But she’s right about one thing. We can’t stay here. I’ll go first.”
He handed the torch to Dandra, crouched down and went into the tunnel after Ekhaas. The floor had a gentle but persistent slope to it that made keeping his balance awkward. Knees pressed up, backside hanging low, his hands brushing the rock wall for balance, he felt like a waddling duck. Light flooded the tunnel and his shadow stretched out before him as Dandra followed with the torch. A moment later, he heard Ashi grunt. There was another faint scrape, then the sharp sound of a latch catching as the hidden door closed.
Tzaryan Keep was behind them.
By the time the prisoners, their captors, and a squad of a dozen ogres reached the ruins, the smell of fresh-turned soil was heavy on the night air. In the light of a pair of torches carried by an orc slave, Singe could see that the ruins seemed almost transformed. The ancient mounds and foundations that marked the location of Taruuzh Kraat on the surface were covered with a new layer of dirt. Here and there, large rocks and big sections of brick still joined by millennia-old mortar lay strewn like pebbles. Where Singe and the others had located the collapsed entrance to the underground complex that morning, a deep, ragged trench made a scar in the moonlight. The way to Taruuzh Kraat was open.
There was no sign of Dah’mir except for the herons that circled overhead. Tzaryan Rrac stood beside the trench, watching their approach.
Singe stumbled on a stone hidden by the torches’ flickering. His arms bound behind his back, he staggered, trying to keep his balance. He might have gone down anyway if Robrand hadn’t caught him and given him the moment of support he needed. The old man’s face betrayed nothing. Singe kept his silence.
Vennet stalked just ahead, Chain following at his heels like a frightened dog. On Singe’s right, Hruucan kept pace with them, too. Their enemies surrounded them. There’d been no chance to speak with Robrand, no chance to stage an escape.
Singe risked a glance over his shoulder, checking on Orshok and Natrac. The orc and half-orc were just behind him and Robrand, bound as he was and each with an ogre guard watching over them. Orshok looked terrified, but Natrac met his eyes with a grim determination. Singe gave him a curt nod of encouragement-false encouragement-and turned back to watch the trench drawing closer.
As frightened as he felt at his own prospects, the real fear that gnawed at him was for Dandra and Ashi. However they’d managed to find their way into the caves beneath Tzaryan Keep, their refuge in Taruuzh Kraat was going to become a trap.
He had to do something.
He drew a breath and risked raising his voice as they stopped at the mouth of the trench. “Tzaryan!” he shouted. “Where’s Dah’mir? I’m surprised he left you behind-I wouldn’t turn my back on you!”
Tzaryan’s black-eyed gaze settled on him briefly, then went to Robrand. “General, keep the prisoners quiet!”
“Aye.” Singe’s ear stung as Robrand swatted him sharply, but the wizard had to hold back a smile as the old man picked up on his trick and repeated the question. “Where is the dragon, my lord?”
“Gone ahead,” said Tzaryan. Singe glanced at the trench and the dark passage beyond. Dah’mir couldn’t have fit down it. He must have transformed. The wizard tried to picture the great chamber dominated by the grieving tree. If they were lucky, Dah’mir’s dragon form wouldn’t be able to fit in it either. Singe doubted that they would be so lucky.
He swallowed and thrust himself forward. Robrand leaped after him, but the old man was just a little too slow. “What did Dah’mir promise you, Tzaryan?” Singe shouted, charging toward the ogre mage. “Is it worth surrendering yourself to him? Do you think he’s just going to leave after-”
Vennet whirled around. His arm caught Singe right across the throat and swept the wizard off his feet. Singe slammed down onto his back, gasping for breath. “Are you trying something smart again, Singe?” Vennet asked. He lunged forward, punctuating his words with kicks to Singe’s belly. “Give … it … up!”
Singe curled up around Vennet’s boot and bright pain sparked in his vision, but he still saw Robrand storm up to them. “You! D’Lyrandar! Get back! This man is in my custody!”
Vennet took a swaggering step back. “Really? I thought he was my master’s prisoner.”
Robrand stopped, leaving Singe between him and the half-elf like a bone between two dogs. Singe twisted around and looked up at his former commander, catching his eye and mouthing a single word. Chain.
The old man’s mouth tightened in almost imperceptible acknowledgment and his gaze flicked back to Vennet. His voice rose in sharp command. “Tzaryan company, alert!”
All around them, the small noises of moving ogres were drowned out in a rush of creaking leather and sliding feet as Robrand’s squad snapped to readiness and turned to face him. Singe managed to sit up in time to see Vennet’s eyes narrow with unpleasant surprise. Off to one side, Hruucan whirled around, surveying the nervous ogres-including Chuut-that surrounded him. His tentacles rose and he dropped into a crouch, ready to fight.
“General!” Tzaryan roared. “What are you doing? Company, stand down!”
The ogres relaxed again, but Robrand faced Tzaryan without flinching. “My lord, I think the prisoner has a point.” He glanced at a nearby ogre-possibly the dumbest-looking brute Singe had ever seen-and pointed at Singe. “Watch him,” he ordered, then marched to Tzaryan. “How much can we trust a dragon?”
“Mutiny!” shouted Vennet. “This is mutiny!” He started to turn his back on Singe, hesitated for instant, then grabbed Chain and shoved him toward the wizard. “You watch him, too!” He darted after Robrand, shouting protests. The ogre Robrand had pressed into guard service just looked utterly confused by the rush of events. Singe twisted around to face Chain. The bounty hunter looked almost as confused as the ogre-and, more importantly, frightened out of his wits, his arrogance crushed.