Word of Traitors: Legacy of Dhakaan - Book 2 by Don Bassingthwaite Read Free Book Online Page A

Makka swore by the passion of the Fury, dark goddess of rage, that his vengeance would start with them.
    Where would he find them? They had tried to bargain for their safety by invoking the name of the lowland king, Haruuc. Whether they had his favor or not was questionable, but if they’d known to try invoking his name, there was only one place to begin his search.
    Makka turned his footsteps toward Rhukaan Draal.

19 Sypheros
    He arrived just before dawn on a fine cool day to find the entrances to Haruuc’s city clogged with lowlanders, all dressed as if for a festival. Makka waded into the throng, shouldering past hobgoblins, goblins, and bugbears alike. There were only
dar
present, he noticed. That was strange. Usually humans forced their way into everything.
    As he got closer to the front of the crowd, he saw what was holding it back: guards wearing armbands fashioned of red cords stood at makeshift barricades. He grabbed the nearest goblin and spun the little creature around, forcing him to look up into his face. “What’s happening here,
taat?”
    The goblin stared at him with wide eyes. “The end of mourning,” he said, his voice cracking. “Haruuc goes to his tomb today.”
    Makka grunted and looked back to the guards. The goblin, he noticed, took the opportunity to shrink back into the crowd. Makka didn’t try to stop him.
    He’d heard about Haruuc’s death during his journey. A goblin in the southland had squeaked out the news, not that it had meant much to Makka. The end of a warrior—may the Keeper treasure his soul—but also a fitting end for a lowland sop who had turned dog for the humans. Makka had his vengeance to think about. Other goblins and hobgoblins along the way had confirmed the passage of the three he sought. Yes, two hobgoblins and a human with a dragonmark across her face had traveled thatway. Yes, they had been going toward Rhukaan Draal. Yes, they had traveled with others: a shifter, a gnome, and a goblin who rode on a great black wolf. Makka had added three more deaths to his oath of vengeance.
    Names had come later—those who had passed were heroes, acclaimed by Haruuc. Dagii of Mur Talaan, Ekhaas of Kech Volaar, Chetiin of the
shaarat’khesh
, Ashi of Deneith, Midian the gnome, Geth the shifter and
shava
to Haruuc. Later still, the news that Chetiin was Haruuc’s assassin and Geth now held the throne of Darguun. That had made Makka smile. His targets were
chib
. Killing them would bring him much honor.
    And the Fury, it seemed, approved of his vengeance, because he found four of his targets with an ease that could only be an omen.
    They were out in the open, marching in Haruuc’s funeral procession, unsuspecting of the death that had come for them. Dagii of Mur Talaan and a shifter that could only be Geth walked directly behind Haruuc—the lowland king made a wrinkled, pathetic corpse. Ekhaas of Kech Volaar was further back, and Ashi of Deneith walked with humans and other races near the rear of the procession. The riches borne at the very end of the parade of mourners gave Makka pause. So much wealth! He ground his teeth, closing out greed inspired by the Keeper, and turned back to his targets in the procession. They were the reason he had come.
    They were well-protected. He would have to wait, but he had waited for prey many times. Makka chose his target. The human woman would be first. He would slay her with her own sword and leave the weapon in her steaming guts, letting the others know who was hunting them.
    He shadowed the procession through the stinking crowds of Rhukaan Draal. When the city ended, he pushed forward until he was right against the wall beyond which the procession had passed. Heaving himself up against the iron fence atop the wall, Makka could see the marchers, but not Ashi in particular. That didn’t bother him. He’d pick up her trail again.
    He had a good view of the tomb along the ridge and of the three hobgoblins standing alongside it. Only when the