Into the Heart of Evil (27 page)

The orcs were surprised at how little attention
the kobolds were paying them.  It was obvious that, whatever they were running
from, they were more afraid of it than them.  For all the kobold’s fear,
however, the orcs had a hard time believing that there was any danger here in
kobold territory that they needed to worry about.

Durik was stuttering and acting as if he were
trying to come up with a word in orcish.  As he stuttered, the rest of his
company was passing by.  After several moments, the largest orc heard his orc
warriors murmuring amongst themselves and lowering their spears.  Looking up
from this young, impetuous kobold, the orc leader noticed movement coming
around the turn in the path the kobolds had just come from.

As the orc leader lifted his eyes away from him,
Durik took off running as fast as he could.  Seeing the flood of great ants
coming their direction, the orc leader started yelling orders and lining up his
warriors to meet the new threat.

As Durik crested the hill behind the orcs, he
glanced back to see the first of the orc warriors falling, their flesh being
ripped from their bones as their screams were silenced by the horde of ants
swarming over them.  The flood of crawling bodies had surrounded most of the
orcs now and the great ants were flowing over each other in their eagerness to
get at them.

Ardan could smell the clean scent of fresh, moving
water.  After several moments more of running down the trail, he came to the
shore of the river.  It was much broader here than at the bridge farther
upstream.  The river was swollen with the icy runoff of the glacial valleys in
the mountains surrounding their great valley and was at least waist deep. 
Ardan turned and looked back at the rest of the company coming up behind him.  
Arbelk reached the water and jumped in.  Kiria was much more timid however, and
Arbelk ended up grabbing her by the arm and pulling her into the icy water. 
Behind them came Keryak and Troka stumbling along, the pair carrying Lord
Karthan’s two young sons Karto and Lat.  They quickly splashed into the water
with the whelps on their shoulders.  Behind them came the wolves with the
wounded and then the packdogs. 

For all their reluctance the last several hours of
this forced march, it was all that Terrim and Kabbak could do to keep up with
the packdogs once they saw the river.  The wolves were less enthused at the
water, but Tohr and Kahn were able to lead them into the river readily enough.

With every kobold who passed, Ardan’s hopes had
risen.  Looking behind him on the path, he had expected to see the three
leaders of this company, but after waiting several moments, they were still
nowhere to be seen.

Gritting his teeth, Ardan struggled with what
should be done.  He knew that the group would need leadership and that he was
the next in line to take charge.  Cursing the Fates, Ardan shook his head.  He
knew what had to be done.  He knew he’d regret it for the rest of his life if
he didn’t at least attempt to help his leaders… his friends.

Muttering under his breath, Ardan began running
back along the trail in search of Durik, Manebrow, and Gorgon.

Shagra, orc champion of the Bloodhand Orc Tribe,
was no one to be trifled with.  With sixteen marks on his spear, he was the
most decorated of the orc champions remaining in what was left of the original
Bloodhand Tribe.  Their tribal chieftain, his father, was not only proud of
him, but also saw him as a threat.  As such, his father kept sending him on the
most dangerous of missions.  That was a clear indicator of Shagra’s power, and
was the normal way of things.  After all, if he didn’t die, then Shagra would
become the natural successor for leadership of the tribe after his father and,
when his father died by someone’s hand or on his own, then Shagra would inherit
leadership of the tribe and all the concubines, slaves, and the loyalty of the
lesser warriors that came with that. 

Recently, his father had shown his weakness by
sending Shagra to bring an outpost under control, the old dwarf outpost at the
bridge on top of the split mountain his kobold mercenaries called the Wall. 
There was a hobgoblin there who was charging the orcs a tax to cross the
bridge.  Shagra’s father would have nothing of it.  It had been an easy enough
task to take the bridge and the dwarven outpost far underneath it.  Though the
hobgoblin was a staunch fighter, he bowed quickly to Shagra’s superior might. 
It was not long before Shagra owned the dwarf outpost.

He had not been idle either.  He had found that
among the lesser kobold gens in the northern valley there were many kobold
warriors to be bought, or who would flock to the banner of any strong leader
who promised them wealth and power, even an orc leader.  So it was that Shagra
had begun to gather strength.  It would not be long now before he moved against
his father and took what he saw as rightfully his.

That he had been asked to meet with and entertain
a treaty with a pair of kobold groups known as the Covenant of Loyalty, led by
a warrior leader called Shadow Hand from the westernmost of the kobold gens,
and the Covenant of Royal Blood, led by a magic wielder called Mynar the
Sorcerer from the easternmost gen, was a clear sign that his father was
beginning to feel his age and was starting to accept the fact that it wouldn’t
be long before Shagra took his place.

The meeting itself was nothing spectacular: three
kobolds, a pair from the Kale Gen and one from the Krall Gen, handed him a
scroll with the terms and their leaders’ two signatures, Shagra read it, a
great feat for an orc, then nodded his agreement and took the parchment with
him to present to his father. 

The terms were simple enough: orc warriors would
prevent messengers and caravans that did not carry authorization from one of
these two kobold leaders from passing between the two kobold gens.  The treaty
had stated that the parties would send out several caravan loads of steel
weapons and other goods for the orcs to plunder.  At first he wondered why the
kobolds didn’t just send the caravans to him and save them the hassle of
plundering them, but then he understood.  It wouldn’t do for kobold lords to be
seen as working with orcs, even if in fact that was what they were doing.

Though Shagra didn’t speak good kobold, and the
kobolds spoke even worse orcish, Shagra had understood that these groups were
planning overthrows of their gens’ leaders.  Hearing this, Shagra had pressed
them to learn more.  After all, he was rather interested, having wanted to do
the same himself but never having found the right occasion. 

The two kobolds from the west seemed distressed,
however, and kept talking about something messing up their plans.  The
messenger from the east gen had just snickered incessantly, as if enjoying the
chaos that seemed to be ensuing.  Seeing he was getting nowhere with the
kobolds, they had parted ways, the one kobold riding his dog quickly off to the
east, and the other pair going by foot into the forest toward some low hills in
the distance.

So he’d taken the treaty with him to get his
father’s final approval, promising to meet them again in a week at the same
spot.  Since then, the march had been utterly uneventful, that was until this
group of kobolds showed up.  He’d not known who they were initially, but the
design of their crossed shoulder belts told him they were of the same gen as
two of the conspirators, and when they shouted out Shadow Hand’s name, he figured
they were part of the Covenant of Loyalty.  So, he’d trusted them and let them
continue to flee from whatever they were running from.  After all, perhaps he
could negotiate a couple more caravans from the new kobold lords for defending
them this day.

What he had not expected, however, was to be
completely overrun by a mass of swarming ant hunters.  His warriors,
inexperienced as this new crop was, had lined up like he’d taught them and
prepared to meet the foe.  Shagra and his two trusted veteran warriors,
however, could see that this fast moving group of ants was hardly going to slow
down for his group, much less be stopped by them.

After lining up the new warriors, Shagra looked at
his two veteran warriors.  They looked back at him with an understanding nod. 
Sometimes the young had to be sacrificed to protect the strong.  They waited
until the tide of fast moving ants broke against the thin wall of the new
warriors then they took off running as fast as they could toward the river,
hoping that the young warriors would hold them long enough for them to make it
to the water and throw off the ants’ pursuit.

The line of new warriors wasn’t wide enough,
however, to hold back the entire onrushing mass of hunter ants.  Very quickly,
the ants circled around behind the new warriors.  Being attacked from all sides
was too much for the young orc warriors, and it was only a matter of moments
before they were routed and began to try to escape.  Escape was not possible,
however, as the ants were much faster, and now completely surrounded them.  The
new warriors screamed and cried as the flesh was torn from their feet and legs,
bringing them to their knees as the ants climbed their bodies.  One by one,
each of their cries was silenced as they went down under the swarming mass of
ants.

Shagra and his two veteran warriors had foreseen
that this would happen.  Unfortunately for them, however, the hunter ants
seemed to be relentless in their focus on the kobolds, and as the first few
began to move around the edges of the battle and past the new orc warriors,
instead of staying to bring down the new warriors they followed directly after
Shagra and his companions.

The three of them had begun up the slope where the
kobolds had disappeared when one of the two veteran warriors cried out in pain
and fear.  Bringing his spear downward, he skewered the body of an ant whose
mandibles were locked around one of his ankles.  With fear in his eyes, the orc
made the mistake of trying to reach down and pull the ant loose instead of
trying to deal with the next nearest ants.  Almost instantly there were two
more ants on him, one on each of his wrists, then another on his other ankle. 
Shagra and his remaining warrior saw what was happening and, after stabbing the
first few ants with their spears, turned and ran for all they were worth, the
screams of their companion echoing in their ears.  As they reached the crest of
the hill, the two of them spun around and saw that there were only about twenty
or so ants coming at them, and they were mostly right on their heels.  The rest
of them had joined in the feeding frenzy going on below.

Backing up as they went, the two warriors stabbed
furiously at the ant hunters.  After several moments of battle, one of the ants
got a hold of the other veteran warrior’s spear and broke the tip off.  The
veteran warrior turned and ran in fear.  Shagra saw him run and, not wanting to
be surrounded, turned and ran also.  They picked up quite a bit of speed
running downhill, but soon they were started up the far slope and knew the ants
would catch them.  Several more ants had come to join the ten or so remaining
ants.  It appeared the feeding frenzy was beginning to release them.  They saw
another twenty or so coming over the hill.  Drawing their swords, the two orcs
turned and faced the oncoming ants.  This was the end.

At that moment, from the hill behind them and
toward the river, the sound of bowstrings could be heard.  The wave of ants
coming over the hill started to take casualties as arrow after arrow found its
mark.  Shagra looked over his shoulder and saw three of the kobolds with their
bows out, drawing arrows to reload.  They were trying to clear enough of the
reinforcements so that he and his last warrior could escape.  Swinging his
sword fiercely time and time again, Shagra took off the heads of several of the
ants.  His veteran companion matched his feat and, seeing a lull in the battle,
the two warriors turned and ran for all they were worth up the path toward the
river.