Word of Traitors: Legacy of Dhakaan - Book 2 by Don Bassingthwaite

“and that’s how I want my victory remembered: a triumph over a strong enemy. But I promise you that if Keraal of Gan’duur dies without fighting in the arena, then all that Darguun remembers of the Gan’duur will be a warlord who passed from life as a coward. It would be better for your legacy if you had died in agony on the grieving tree.”
    The dead look had left Keraal’s eyes. They were bright and angry, and his chest heaved with each breath. Tariic let out a furious hiss. “Dagii!” he said. “What do you think you’re doing?”
    “He reminds me that I owe
muut
to my clan even if I no longer have a clan, even if I no longer have
atcha.”
Keraal straightened and turned to face Munta. “I will fight in the arena.”
    Munta nodded again, slowly and with a look of approval on his face.
    Tariic’s features twisted with frustration, however. “And if he wins, he walks free? What kind of punishment is that for my uncle’s enemy?”
    Geth felt a strange pressure creep into his mind, a vague memory that wasn’t his own, and shivered. He recognized the sensation: it was Wrath. This was what Haruuc had experienced and what had almost driven him mad. The Sword of Heroes had been created to protect and inspire, though, not to command. Geth pushed it away—and it retreated, but not without leaving an idea behind.
    “He won’t fight just any fight,” Geth said. “He’ll fight a battle each day. If he wins all of them, he wins his freedom.”
    Tariic spun around to give him an ugly look, but Keraal stood tall and nodded. “I accept these conditions,” he said.
    “No!” said Tariic. He looked to Munta. “What about honoring Haruuc?”
    “Keraal didn’t kill Haruuc,” Munta said. “Chetiin did. Keraal can fight. He
must
be allowed to fight.”
    “No weapons, then!” snapped Tariic. “He fights with nothing more than he has now.”
    Dagii looked Tariic over and nodded. “I agree.” Tariic seemed relieved—relief that turned into renewed fury as Dagii added, “Let him fight with the chains he wears.”
    “I won’t allow this!” Tariic said. “It can’t be allowed to happen.”
    “You’re not lhesh, Tariic.” said Munta. “The decision is Geth’s. He is Haruuc’s
shava.”
    The old warlord looked to him. So did Tariic. And Dagii. And Keraal. Geth drew a breath and let it out.
    “Keraal fights. Five battles wielding the chains he wears.”
    Keraal bent his head in acceptance. Tariic’s eyes flashed. He turned and strode out of the cell, pushing past Dagii. Munta frowned after him, then looked to the others. “I’ll summon the keeper and make the arrangements. We’ll need to have a fight added to the games today.”
    Munta left, leaving Keraal with Geth and Dagii. The chained hobgoblin glanced between them, then bent his head again to Geth. “Ta
muut,”
he said. You do your duty—the simplest way of saying “Thank you” in Goblin.
    Then he turned to Dagii.
“Paatcha
!” An offering of honor.
    Dagii made no response—none was needed. He stepped out of the cell as the dungeon keeper, grumbling about warlords changing their minds, and a pair of guards arrived. Geth glanced once more at Keraal as he stood still for the keeper to unlock his chains, then went after Dagii. “Honor between enemies?” he asked the young warlord.
    “A good enemy is better than a bad friend,” Dagii said.
    “You didn’t come down here to shame Keraal into fighting, though.”
    A smile flickered across Dagii’s face, then was gone. “No. That was just luck. I came looking for you.” He leaned close for a moment. “Midian has returned to Rhukaan Draal.”
    Geth’s gut twisted. “Get messages to Ashi and Ekhaas and let them know. We’ll meet tonight.”

CHAPTER
FIVE
19 Sypheros
    T hey met in the small room high in Khaar Mbar’ost where they had once met with Haruuc and where he had revealed his plan to seek out the Rod of Kings. Once again, Aruget stood guard outside the door. After Haruuc’s