Aruget shook his head. “The mists that form the border of the Mournland are unpredictable-no scout has managed to relocate the Valenar camp to confirm whether it still exists. Either we’re being fooled by the mists, or the elves have returned to Valenar-in which case there is no enemy.”
Ashi considered the map again and a mad idea occurred to her. So mad it might have occurred to Tariic himself. “Could Tariic be planning a counterattack on Valenar?” she asked. The stretch of the Mournland that lay between Darguun and Valenar was relatively narrow. A madman or a tyrant might try marching a force through the nightmare landscape.
“Not even Tariic would be that crazy,” said Dagii. “It would be a massacre. Any troops that survived the Mournland would be easy prey for the Valenar on the other side. Besides, his forces are spread out, not concentrated for a swift strike east. And there’s more.” He nodded to Senen, who took up the thread of evidence.
“I’ve heard it spoken in Khaar Mbar’ost that Tariic is demanding tribute of the Ghaal’dar clans of the lowlands and of the loyal Marguul tribes of the mountains.” Her ears flicked. “Tribute in the form of coins and gems.”
The disgust in her voice was biting. Ashi waited for her to explain further but there was nothing. The ambassador of the Kech Volaar sat back as if she’d already proved her case. Ashi raised an eyebrow. “In the Five Nations, that’s called taxes.”
“But it’s not how things are done among the dar,” said Senen. “Tribute is paid in service or possibly goods, not with money. That is the way it has always been.”
“Maybe Tariic is trying something new.”
“At the same time he clings to the old?” asked Dagii. “He levies warriors from the clans as well. With the power of the Rod of Kings behind him, no one in the assembly of warlords says no.”
“He spent a lot of money buying popularity among the people after Haruuc’s death. Maybe he’s trying to replenish the treasury,” Ashi suggested. “He must have debts.”
“He doesn’t pay them,” said Senen. “His creditors meet with him and go away with full smiles but empty hands.”
Ashi wrinkled her nose. “The rod again. What’s he doing with the money then?”
“Deneith isn’t the only dragonmarked house he courts favor with.”
“But Deneith is the only house interested in what Darguun has to offer-” She broke off as she realized what Senen was really saying. “He’s buying from the other houses.”
“And they seem to appreciate the business,” said Dagii. “Tariic needs money because he might be able to control the local viceroys and envoys with the rod, but the lords of the houses beyond Darguun would notice if debts went unpaid. But we haven’t been able to find out what he’s buying. We need someone who can move among the viceroys.”
“Me,” Ashi said. Her part in the gathering of intelligence fell into place. “I’m not exactly in demand at the enclaves of the other houses right now, though.”
“You underestimate yourself,” said Senen, leaning forward. “The viceroys inquire after you. Vounn’s murder is still the subject of much speculation and-forgive my bluntness-no one was closer to her at that moment than you.”
A vague feeling of nausea swirled at the back of Ashi’s throat. “You want me to use Vounn’s death to get close to the representatives of the other dragonmarked houses.”
“It sounds dishonorable to her memory,” Dagii said, “but it is for a greater good. I think Vounn might have approved.”
Ashi gave him a hard glare. Aruget’s ears dipped. “There are other ways, Ashi. All you need to do is find out what Tariic wants from the other houses-and you are the one of us with the best chance to do it.”
She turned her glare on the changeling. “You brought me here to ask me this?”
To her surprise, Aruget looked to Senen and Dagii. Senen sat stone-faced. Dagii’s ears flicked, then flicked again. “Not entirely,” he said. “If we could have, we would have waited longer. But we had to move today. Something happened last night.”
It was probably a mark of how much time she’d been spending around hobgoblins that she almost felt as if her ears perked up. “What?”
Dagii rose and went over to the shuttered windows. Easing one open just a little way, he gestured for her to look outside.
The window overlooked a wide yard of beaten earth. At first glance, she saw only ranks of hobgoblin soldiers performing drills while others practiced combat in small groups. Across the courtyard, she recognized the standard of the Iron Fox. There was another standard beside it, though-an upright sword blade mounted within a ring at the end of a pole. But if there was a second standard on display… Ashi looked at the soldiers in the yard again.
There were two groups, she realized. They trained together, but not as comrades. In fact, one of the groups appeared to be thoroughly dominating the other in every combat and at every drill. The losing soldiers looked like those she was familiar with seeing around Rhukaan Draal-warriors from disparate clans united in a military company. Many of them wore the sign of the Iron Fox.
The dominant soldiers were different. They were subtly bigger. They were better armed and armored. They had a unified look, as if they’d all received the same training since they were young. Since they were very young, judging by the way they fought and moved. Many of them bore brands on their faces that resembled the sword blade standard.
“Kech Shaarat,” said Senen softly from over Ashi’s shoulder. “Warriors from another of the Dhakaani clans. They arrived last night.”
“Tariic instructed them to take quarters here with the Iron Fox,” Dagii said. “They claim that they’re here to aid the patrols against the Valenar.” He closed the shutter.
“Are they?” asked Ashi.
“Fight the Valenar? Perhaps,” said Senen. “Patrol under the command of lowland clans? Never.” Her ears bent. “Something is going to happen. That’s why we needed to talk to you today. Will you do it, Ashi? Will you find out what Tariic wants with the dragonmarked houses?”
“Will you do it for Vounn’s memory?” asked Dagii.
Ashi’s jaw tightened. “I will.”
Aruget didn’t want to stay at the barracks too long, and they left quickly. On the street, he became Oraan once more, reassuming the demeanor of a resentful guard escorting his willful charge on a damp morning. For appearances, Ashi continued her walk down to the river’s edge before turning back to Khaar Mbar’ost. The wandering gave her time to think. How best to approach the viceroys of the other dragonmarked houses? If Senen was right-and she probably was-they would be eager to gossip with her, but Ashi was certain they would also be tight-lipped about their dealings with Tariic. Approaching one before the others would also raise their suspicions and close their mouths. She needed a way to greet all of them casually at or around the same time.
The opportunity came more easily than she had hoped. As she turned the corner of the hallway outside her chambers, she found two figures waiting for her. One was another of her escorts, Woshaar, ready to take over the duty of watching her-Oraan nodded to him, released her into his care, and departed without even glancing at her. He played his role flawlessly.
The other was a goblin wearing the red corded armband that indicated his service to the lord of Khaar Mbar’ost. “Lhesh Tariic sends a message to Lady Ashi d’Deneith,” he said. “There will be a feast tonight in the hall of honor. You will attend.”
The command drew out a flash of anger, even if the feast was the answer she was looking for. The viceroys and envoys would attend, and she could move among them without her conversations seeming out of place. She bit back her anger. “Tell Lhesh Tariic I am honored,” she said.
“He does not wish a reply.” The goblin bowed and departed.
Ashi’s anger burned a little higher. She turned on Woshaar. “I require hot water and a bathing tub. Demand them of the next servant that passes.”