The Game of Fates (52 page)

“Aye,
if he’d just put his heart into his work…” Khazak joked.

“Aye. 
Aye!” Lord Karthan shook his head as he laughed.  “Now, tell me.  Have you
found out where he is?”

Khazak
nodded his head.  “I’ve heard that he’s in the arena.”

“Well
then, shall we?” Lord Karthan asked as though they were headed off to some
social event or another, rather than off to face Khee-lar Shadow Hand and his
supporters.

The
crowd of armed warriors grew as Lord Karthan’s entourage passed the caverns of
the Trade Warrior Group and the Metalsmithies Warrior Group.  Khee-lar had not
treated them favorably, and his grab for all their wealth had rankled even
those who had sworn their allegiance to him before his takeover of the gen. 
Soon, as word spread in front of the main body of Lord Karthan’s loyalists, the
warriors of the Patrol Guard Warrior Group began to assemble in their teams and
their companies. 

Drok
didn’t wait for their assembly, however.  With a ‘by your leave’ to Lord
Karthan, instead he took his group of twenty-five off at a run toward the home
caverns of the Wolf Riders Warrior Group.  He was intent on finding their
leader caste, a rather hardened elite warrior named Abetor who had murdered
Raoros Fang and taken his place.  What had made the murder even more vile was
that he had been Raoros’ chief elite warrior.  Drok had fled shortly
thereafter.

Khazak
didn’t wait for the warriors to assemble, either.  Once he and Lord Karthan saw
the beginnings of the groundswell of support from the warrior groups for Lord
Karthan’s return, Khazak immediately pressed on with his group of thirteen,
plus Trallik and Trikki.  He was intent on trapping Khee-lar in the arena if at
all possible.  They moved with urgency, knowing that Khee-lar would run if they
didn’t get there before he could flee.

K
hee-lar Shadow Hand sat half
reclined in his box up in the stands.  The view from the lord’s box, where he
currently sat, was much the same as from the leaders’ box where he’d previously
watched all the events, but yet from the lord’s box it seemed just a bit
better… though he would have to get cushions for these hard wooden chairs. 
Turning to one of his Untouchables, the remaining eight of whom were seated
behind him, he passed his desire along for a cushion.  The warrior got up
immediately, but Lord Khee-lar motioned for him to sit down.  “After,” he
said.  “For next time.”

The
spectacle this day was average enough; a pack of hunting dogs facing off
against a large boar.  It certainly wasn’t as entertaining as the executions
he’d ordered over the past several days, but he’d grown tired of those anyway. 
For some reason the executions of his former enemies had grown less
entertaining the more of them he did.

After
the excitement wore off, he’d thought of having them fight each other.  That
was fun enough in concept, but they’d put no spirit into it, knowing they would
just be cut down by his archers anyway.  He’d thought about pardoning the
winners, but he was too cautious to do that.  After all, that would mean
leaving a potential enemy alive.  He wasn’t about to do
that
.

After
a week of glutting his every appetite, Khee-lar had grown restless.  He had
been looking for something else to occupy his time other than concubines,
elaborate feasts, and executing prisoners.  Seeing his lack of enthusiasm for
executing the sixteen remaining prisoners immediately, some of his leader caste
had come to him with the idea of this boar-dog fight.  He’d liked the idea,
mostly because dogs and boars didn’t plead for their lives, and they didn’t
refuse to fight each other, and they didn’t look you in the eye like they were
judging you.  No, they just fought viciously and died pitifully, like all good
entertainment should do.

Seated
next to Khee-lar, Kort, the leader of the Deep Guard Warrior Group, basked in
his lord’s approval.  Khee-lar’s ideas were good, but they quickly ran out of
flavor.  Kort’s twisted mind always seemed to know how to make them last
longer, how to heighten them and enhance the excitement of them all.  Kort’s
ideas, Khee-lar had discovered, seemed to never loose their freshness. 
Khee-lar and the other leaders had been glutting themselves on Kort’s debased
ideas for days now without any sign of respite, and Khee-lar showed him his
appreciation by giving him several concubines and slaves, and much wealth.

On
the other side of Khee-lar sat Abetor, the merciless, moralless new leader of
the Wolf Riders Warrior Group, the same who had been its chief elite warrior
and who had stabbed his own leader caste in the back to take his place.  There
was no subtlety in that one, much as there was no mercy.  Khee-lar kept Kort
close, but trusting Abetor less, he kept him closer.

“Ah! 
He ripped his throat out with that swipe!” Kort cried out next to him. 
Khee-lar brought his attention back to the fight.  The boar had just ripped the
throat out of one of the dogs with his mighty tusks.  Now the fight would be
more desperate.  With four dogs it had been too much, but three dogs against
the boar made things a bit more interesting…

Kram,
Chief Elite Warrior of the Deep Guard Warrior Group, was not one to sleep
late.  Having taken the night shift, he slept only until second meal, then got
up, ate, and began to see to the guards he had posted for the day shift.

Almost
as a testament to the lack of discipline that his leader caste, Kort, seemed to
have fostered in Lord Khee-lar’s former warrior group, Kram found several of
the guard posts empty.  He was going to have to confront Kort about this.  If
Kort wouldn’t give him power to discipline his own warriors, then what good was
it to be a chief elite warrior?

Kram
shook his head.  No, Kort would probably just relieve him of his status,
promoting someone ‘who complained less’ in his place.  That would do no good. 
Beside, his lifemate had already gotten used to the greater share of wealth
that his new status afforded them.

So
it was with these thoughts on his mind that he arrived at the watch station and
was surprised to see the elite warrior he’d left there lying in a puddle of his
own blood, skewered by a spear he surmised from the grievous wounds he bore in
his chest and back.

Kram
thought for a moment about the situation. 
No use running about without my
head
.  He could see from how the dead one lay that the attack had come from
the area of the prison, so he stepped forward and called down the hall to the
prison guard station.

No
answer.

If
the prison guard was no more, then the prisoners had to have escaped.  And if
the prisoners had escaped, then Khazak Mail Fist, the most capable warrior this
gen had probably ever known, was on the loose…

Kram
thought about where Lord Khee-lar and Kort likely were at this exact moment. 
He remembered the work that had gone into capturing the boar, and he thought
that the fight was supposed to be taking place about now in the arena.

Kram
turned and ran with all his might toward the arena.  As he did so, he came to
the long passage that led up to the surface.  Looking up it, he saw a number of
kobold warriors, armed and coming down the passage as if on the hunt.  At their
head was the exile Goryon, and not far behind him came Lord Karthan.

Not
stopping to look further, Kram ran for it.  He passed the market and called his
lolling guards to arms, hoping these many days of lax standards hadn’t ruined
them completely.  As he went he gathered in his Deep Guard warriors, telling
them to assemble at the arena.  Soon he arrived at the arena and was relieved
to find his two guards still posted there, kept focused on guarding by the
promise of an opportunity to catch Lord Khee-lar’s eye if nothing else.

“You
two!  Gather the Deep Guard!  All of them!  Bring them here, now!  Karthan and
his exiles are upon us!  To arms!” he yelled as he strode up to them.

“What,
Lord Karthan is…”

“You
heard me, now get moving!  Gather our warriors!” Kram cut the guard short.

The
pair took off at a run as Kram turned to the three guards who had caught up
with him here.  “You three stay here and guard this door.  I’m going in to warn
Lord Khee-lar!”  With that, Kram entered the bowels of the arena.

“Aha! 
Now it’s down to two!” Kort’s blood was up, and he was getting a bit loud for
Khee-lar’s liking.  Down below them in the arena another dog had succumbed to
its wounds.  The terrible gash down its side had spilt more blood than it could
bear, and the weakness the loss of blood had brought had left the dog moving
too slow when the boar came at it again.  The boar’s tusks had pierced its ribs
and the poor animal had been thrown far, to gasp a few times before drowning in
its own blood.

Khee-lar
could certainly appreciate a good fight and, despite Abetor’s rather sullen
demeanor, Kort’s rather boisterous manner was starting to rub off on Khee-lar’s
normally more reserved nature.

“That’s
it!  Get a hold of its throat, you stupid dog!” Khee-lar called as one of the
dogs snapped unsuccessfully at the boar’s throat.  “Ah!  You missed your
chance!”  Next to him, Abetor grunted and folded his arms in disapproval of the
dog’s failure.

All
of a sudden Kram, Kort’s chief elite warrior, appeared through a door and ran
out into the arena.

“What’s
he doing out there?” Khee-lar turned to Kort, who looked just as surprised as
Khee-lar did.

“Um…
I don’t know, my lord,” Kort replied meekly.  “It seems he’s yelling
something.”

One
of the dogs had taken a tusk to the back leg and was yelping loudly, drowning
out whatever it was Kram was trying to tell them.  Seeing he wasn’t being
heard, Kram tried to skirt around the animals’ fight.  The boar’s blood was up,
however, and it charged at him.

Kram
saw the danger coming his way, and taking his spear in both hands he set it
firmly in the dirt of the arena to receive the boar’s charge.  The boar ran
blindly at him, ignoring the set spear, skewering itself on the spear while
Kram held it steady.

Soon,
the great pig had stopped kicking as it lay on its side and silently pumped
blood on the stadium’s dirt floor.  The last two dogs lay licking each other’s
wounds as Kram ran to the bottom of the steps up to the lord’s box.  Behind
Khee-lar, his eight Untouchables came to their feet and drew weapons, in case
Kram had lost his mind and was a threat to their lord.

“What
is the meaning of this?!” Khee-lar was on his feet, infuriated by Kram’s
actions.  After all, it had been quite a good fight up until he had spoiled it…
though he did admire the skill with which Kram had dispatched the boar.  Seated
beside Lord Khee-lar, Kort tried to hide from his lord’s displeasure.

Kram
had stopped cold as the line of Untouchables stood.  He knew they were
cold-blooded killers and it gave him pause.  “Sire, I come with news of great
urgency!”  He held up his open hands to show he held no unseen blade.

Khee-lar
frowned.  What could be of such great urgency as to merit ruining this fight? 
“And what news do you bring?” Khee-lar asked.

“My
lord,” Kram said breathlessly, “the exile Karthan and his loyalists are in the
caverns!  They are marching here even as we speak!”

Khee-lar
and the rest of the leader caste all caught their breath at the same time.  It
was a moment or two before Khee-lar could respond, and even then his voice was
pitched a bit higher with the nervousness he felt.

“And
what of my guards?” Khee-lar asked.  “Do they not stand firm against him?”

“Sire,”
Kram lowered his head, “they were not enough.  He comes with many.  My guards
alone were not enough.”

“We
should have kept the Patrol Guard out at the picket line!  It’s their fault!”
Kort pointed at the new Patrol Guard Warrior Group Leader.  That accusation
immediately launched several other counter accusations as Kort worried more
about placing blame for Lord Karthan’s successes on someone else rather than
reacting to the immediate danger that Lord Karthan’s forces presented.

Khee-lar,
however, despite a night of fermented Wallaya root broth, saw things entirely
too clearly at the moment.

“You
fools!” he yelled at his warrior group leaders and other leader caste who sat
behind him bickering.  “Do you not see the danger here?  There is no time to
spare!  If you value your positions—and your lives—get out there and gather
your warriors!  Stop Karthan now!”

Khee-lar’s
words shocked them into action.  Each leader caste hastened off to his warrior
group’s home caverns to gather his warriors.  Khee-lar and his contingent of
Untouchables were last among them to leave the stands.  He looked down at the
skewered boar as he passed it and saw the fear that its final throws had left
in its eyes as death took it.  What little courage he had fled at that moment,
and he immediately knew what he would do.