The Game of Fates (54 page)

In
the Trade and Metalsmithies Warrior Groups they were not so merciful.  When the
insurrection first started they rose up as one, first killing the wealth
collectors that Khee-lar had placed among them, and then killing their new
leader caste and chief elite warriors that Khee-lar had appointed over them. 
Goryon had tried to stop them, but his efforts were token at best.  He wanted
to see the usurpers dead as well, though he had half-heartedly argued for
bringing them to trial before executing them.

Before
the insurrection had reached its conclusion, however, Lord Karthan took his
four other personal guards and ran all the way to the entrance to the Deep
Guard Warrior Group’s caverns.  Khazak Mail Fist had sent a report of heavy
fighting back to him, and now he and his small entourage followed the warrior
who’d brought the message to him back to their caves.

As
they arrived at the first entrance to the Deep Guard’s caverns, Trallik,
Trikki, and a couple of other warriors stood there waiting for him.

“Sire,”
Trallik bowed his head respectfully while still looking up at Lord Karthan.

“What’s
the news?” Lord Karthan asked.  “Have we caught him, then?”

“Sire,
Khazak awaits you at the entrance to Sheerface.  Apparently they want to talk. 
Shall I lead you there?”

Lord
Karthan followed Trallik, the foreign female next to him with the hate-filled
eyes and the blood-drenched spear, and the warriors who stood with him down
into the bowels of the Deep Guard’s training caves.  They went even further
down a long passageway to a cavern with only one other exit from it.  It was
the entrance to Sheerface, the cliff that was their gen’s entrance into the
underdark.

Standing
around the entrance, Khazak had mustered some fifty kobold warriors.  He’d
gathered a number of shields as well, anticipating an assault down the narrow
hallway that led to the edge of Sheerface.

As
Lord Karthan arrived, Khazak nodded toward the entrance to Sheerface.  “Sire,
he’s in there.  I saw your crown, though I didn’t get a good look at Khee-lar. 
I know they’re setting up winches and trying to escape.  They’re buying time is
all.  That’s why they want to negotiate.”

Lord
Karthan nodded his head.  He moved up next to the entrance and called in. 
“Khee-lar!  What is it you want of me?”

Silence,
then a voice which sounded like he was already beginning his descent down
Sheerface.  “I am the true lord of this gen, you know.  By blood right I rule!”

Lord
Karthan looked at Khazak quizzically.  The voice didn’t sound quite right.  The
timbre of it was a bit off, and the whine was gone from his voice. 

“Khee-lar,
I think you lost that right to rule when you lost the support of the warriors,”
Lord Karthan called.  Looking Khazak in the eyes, he gave him the look to get
ready, holding up three fingers.

“You
abused our people, Khee-lar!  You played to their natural greed!” Lord Karthan
called out.

Khazak
began to form up a contingent of twenty warriors with tall shields and short
swords.

Lord
Karthan had two fingers up.

“Khee-lar,
you brought out all that was evil in our people.  You know they couldn’t put up
with that for long!”  Lord Karthan called out.

“I
am still the rightful ruler of this gen!  Nothing you say can take that away!”
the voice called from further down Sheerface.

Khazak
had the twenty warriors in two lines, all that could march abreast down the
entryway.  They were adjusting their shields.

Lord
Karthan had only one finger up.

“Khee-lar,
know that your leaders are being captured as we speak.  All those you
unlawfully enslaved are being set free as we speak, and the law of concubines
you instituted is undone!” Lord Karthan called out after him.

“It
doesn’t matter!  I will return, and this time with sufficient force to ensure
my reign!” the voice called from further down the massive hole.

Khazak’s
twenty had their shields ready.  On his signal, they drew swords.  Forged steel
rasped out of twenty sheaths as one.

Lord
Karthan dropped his hand.

Shuffling
forward in unison, the twenty warriors ploughed down the entryway into the
narrow-ledged chamber at the top of Sheerface.  Two arrows lodged in the first
shield, another two arrows tried to find the legs or heads of those that held
the shields, but the shooters were too nervous and shot high, lodging their
shots in shield and ceiling.

Then
the twenty were on them.  Like a flood, the warriors Khazak had assembled swept
both directions, slamming the bosses of their shields into unarmored opponents,
knocking them backwards and into each other, pressing their weight against each
other’s backs until the four Untouchables that had been left behind were
pressed to the very edge of the ledges on either side.  In a couple of short moments,
and with a couple of shield slams, the four Untouchables each went screaming
off into the dark abyss of Sheerface in turn.

Khazak
Mail Fist and Lord Karthan came in on the heels of the twenty.  They watched in
morbid fascination as the four Untouchables dropped into space, their hot forms
tumbling head over heels into the darkness below.

Lord
Karthan looked down Sheerface.  There were four winches that the four
Untouchables had been operating.  At the end of each winch, dangling helplessly
far into the darkness, yet so mortally far from the hard bottom below, what
appeared to be Khee-lar and three guards sat on two small platforms of wood,
completely at their mercy.

For
a long while Lord Karthan looked down at them in silence.  He thought of the
orc horde which was even now bearing down on their home.  He thought of what
the proper procedures should be as defined in the Scrolls of Heritage.  He
thought about how much time that would take, and about how Khee-lar would be
safe in prison while the rest of them fought against the orcs.

Finally,
Khazak Mail Fist walked to each of the winches and cut the ropes.  They snapped
with a certain finality that prefaced the screams below as the four kobolds
fell through the darkness to the rocks below.

Trikki
had finally broken down and had begun to sob uncontrollably.  The numbness and
shock at what had happened to her had inevitably turned to anger at those who
had inflicted such trauma on her.  Now that the objects of her anger were
cornered, the adrenaline of the moment wore off and the sadness and pain began
to settle in.

Trallik
sat holding her in the cross-chamber outside the chambers that led to
Sheerface.  The gentle wind that flowed from the lava crack that heated their
caverns blew up from the training caves beyond Sheerface in a calm droning as
it beat lightly against the rocks of the cavern.  As they sat, Trallik almost
thought he could detect a strain of the wind that blew in time with his
lifemate’s subtle sobs.

As
they sat in the sand with their backs against the wall, from the training caves
came a kobold in the heavy cloak of the type they used to get close to the lava
crack and observe the flow.  Trallik sat up slightly, his thoughts momentarily
distracted from his lifemate’s pain.  From deep within the recesses of the hood
of the cloak, eyes full of fear and anger momentarily glanced his way before
looking away as the cloaked figure attempted to hurry past.

Trallik
stood up.  Finally noticing the cloaked figure and, seeing her lifemate’s
reaction as well, Trikki stood up, wiping tears and grabbing her spear as she
did so.

“Halt,
friend!” Trallik commanded, the tone in his voice not at all friendly.  “Show
yourself!”  He held up his spear, ready to throw.

The
cloaked figure stopped not more than a handful of paces past the couple. 
Looking about himself, and seeing they were alone, the hooded figure reached up
and withdrew his hood.

“Khee-lar!”
Trallik hissed.  “You’ll not escape that easily!”

“Young
Trallik,” Khee-lar Shadow Hand answered, his voice even and commanding.  “You
will not stop me,” he said matter-of-factly.  “You may think that you’ve caught
me now, but remember, your hands are not clean of my insurrection.”

“You
tricked me, Khee-lar!” Trallik cried.  “You played on my desire for power!”

Khee-lar
raised a hand, revealing a sword clutched in the other hand underneath the
cloak.  “I see you’ve benefited from my short reign,” he said, pointing a
finger at the swollen brand of a banner surrounding the sword on his chest.

“I
owe you nothing, Khee-lar!” Trallik spat at his feet.  “I serve Lord Karthan
now.  He will forgive my mistaken allegiance to you and your evil!”

“Oh,
my young one,” Khee-lar started, his voice smooth and calm.  “You may be part
of reclaiming the gen for Lord Karthan, but when all is said and done, he will
find out that you covenanted with me to kill his daughter.  How do you think he
will look at you then?”

Trallik’s
resolve was beginning to fade.  The brave words he had spoken began to be cast
into doubt.  His spear began to lower, almost of its own accord.

Khee-lar
saw his words were having an effect and pressed forward.  “How do you think he
will look at you when he sees you became an elite warrior under my reign?  Do
you think he will see you as anything other than my supporter?  Could he see
you as anything else?”

“But,
I… I…” Trallik stuttered.

“Think,
Trallik,” Khee-lar pressed as he stepped toward the pair of young kobolds. 
“You know I’m right.  Once the truth comes out, his guards will take your head
with their broadswords,” Khee-lar paused for a moment.  “Come with me,
Trallik.  We will escape together to the northern valley.  There we can build
our strength.  We can build an army, then come back and take back what is
rightfully ours!”
“I… I don’t…” Trallik’s resolve was fading with the whisperings of fear
Khee-lar Shadow Hand had put into his heart.

“You
will be my second, Trallik,” Khee-lar promised as he stepped up and grabbed
Trallik by the shoulder, looking him fervently in the eyes.  “Come, let us
escape now while Khazak and his warriors are on their wild-goose chase down
Sheerface!”

All
of a sudden, Khee-lar coughed in pain.  The look in his eyes had changed from
one of utter confidence to one of utter surprise and pain.  The sword he’d held
ready to gut Trallik if he had refused dropped to the ground.

As
the pair stepped back from Khee-lar, it was as if the spell was broken, and
Trallik was released from Khee-lar’s influence.  Looking back at his savior, he
watched as Trikki pulled her bloodied spear out of Khee-lar’s chest with a
swift pull.

Trallik
finally breathed again when Khee-lar’s lifeless body fell to the ground, his
blood seeping quickly into the sand beneath him.

K
ale reached the tail of the long
line of outcasts not long after he and his eldest son had left their home. 
Once Mirrik of the Deep Gen had sent word to let them pass, and they had torn
down the makeshift wall that the Deep Gen had put up to seal out any intruders
coming from the direction of Sheerface and the Kale Gen above, The Cross Way
had indeed been the easiest part of the path so far, the Cross Way itself being
long, somewhat straight, and generally level and flat.  As they began to
overtake the families with smaller whelps, the parents of whom were struggling
under their burdens, Kale did all he could to encourage them and to lift their
spirits and quell their fears.  He found that his love for these, his people,
had grown noticeably in the past day.  He was glad to be among them, and was
glad to be one of them.

“Father,
is it true that you’re going to be lord of this new gen?” the younger Kale
asked his father.

Kale
looked down at his young son and smiled.  “Yes, my son, though with a horde of
orcs and another horde of ants going to the same place we’re going, I think the
next day or so will be very interesting.”  Kale looked back at Sable to see how
the goat was progressing with her large burden.

“And
dangerous!” his son added.  He clung ever tighter to the wooden swords he had
in his arms.  “Will I have to fight them, father?”

Kale
smiled as he struggled along with his son under the load he carried.  “I
certainly hope not.  But don’t worry, son, there are many strong warriors in
the Kale Gen already, and we will add ourselves to their number.  Together, we
should be strong enough.”

Kale
himself was rather worried about that.  He really didn’t know if they would be
enough.  He thought that, until they met the enemy on the field of battle,
they’d likely not know the true number of the ants.  And besides, there was
much yet to be decided, like if the warriors of the Kale Gen would resist his
claim to the throne or not.  After his experience with Lord Sennak of the Deep
Gen, he thought it very likely.

He
didn’t have the Kale Stone, though he knew it was going to be found.  He hadn’t
convinced the Deep Gen to come with him, and he certainly wasn’t sure the Kale
Gen would accept him as their lord.  Really, all he had accomplished so far was
the gathering of the outcasts.  If this was going to happen, he certainly
hadn’t seen the end of his worries yet.

Lord
Karthan received the report of the Patrol Guard Warrior Group from their
various elite warriors.  They stood in their ranks with swords, spears, and
bows.  Those who had fomented rebellion among them had been bound and were now
kneeling in a line in front of them.  One of the elite warriors had relayed how
poor Yamok, their former leader caste, had died at Khee-lar’s command.  His
children had returned from the fungus farms of the Deep Guard and his widow had
been released from Lord Karthan’s home, where Khee-lar had kept her and several
others as concubines. 

As
though they understood that their failure to stand up against Khee-lar’s evil
had been the reason for her misery, the Patrol Guard had given up the home of
the chief elite warrior to her and her children, and had promised to take care
of them for as long as they should live.  It was a small recompense for a life
cut short, but it was all the repentance they could do for their collective sin
of omission.

Lord
Karthan felt stung at the raping and pillaging that Khee-lar had done in the
name of the lord of the gen.  The debauchery that had occurred in his own home
and council chamber was beyond what he could bear to hear described.  He’d
finally cut off those who would tell him of such things, telling them he would
hear it all in its due time, when those who now knelt before him or who awaited
his arrival in the caverns of the other warrior groups were brought before him
for justice to be done.

And
he would certainly see justice done—every last bit of it.

“Take
them and throw them into the kennels,” Lord Karthan spoke in a firm tone.

Anxious
to regain their lord’s favor after so much evil had occurred because of their
inaction, the warriors who served as escort kicked, pushed, and prodded the
prisoners with spears to get them moving, and to get themselves out of the
disappointed sight of their lord.

Lord
Karthan’s tears and his obvious heartbreak at what had occurred in his beloved
gen were more than many of his warriors could take.  They hung their heads as
Lord Karthan had read before them a brief account of what had occurred under
Khee-lar’s rule.  He read the names of all those that it was known were killed
by Khee-lar, some seventy warriors, plus a handful of females and double that
of whelps.  Khee-lar had been thorough in eliminating those he didn’t care for,
or those who had resisted him.

Lord
Karthan repeated this in each of his warrior groups, except the Deep Guard. 
Their numbers were so depleted and their reputation so soiled, that he
immediately disbanded that warrior group.  The few warriors who remained from
that warrior group and who weren’t in prison were immediately reassigned to the
other warrior groups.

Through
it all, Khazak worked feverishly behind the scenes with the loyal warriors of
each warrior group to determine who the guilty ones might be, and to seal off
all possibility of their escape.  Both he and Lord Karthan pushed themselves,
knowing that the orcs were no more than a day away, and that if they didn’t
take care of the betrayers among their gen, they’d not have the trust among the
ranks that they would need to face the horde.

As
they finished with each warrior group, assigning temporary leaders to replace
those who had fallen to Khee-lar’s blades, Lord Karthan gave them a string of
orders to position each warrior group to be ready for the imminent war.  There
was an orc horde coming, orcs with ogres and kobold mercenaries in tow.  Now
was the time to prepare their arms, for the time of blood had only just begun.

The
gruesome scene that welcomed Kale and the leaders of the outcasts at the bottom
of Sheerface quickly put everyone in a somber mood.

“Kale,”
his younger brother said next to him.  “What do you suppose happened here?”

“I
don’t know,” Kale answered.  “But whatever it is, I suspect that we’ll not
receive a warm welcome here.”  The rest of the leaders of the outcasts were
looking at Kale expectantly, the look in several of their eyes betraying their
lack of faith in him.

“And
how do you think we should climb that?” one of the outcast family leaders
asked, pointing up the huge, vertical hole that was Sheerface.  Several of the
outcast leaders murmured their agreement that this was surely an impossible
obstacle to overcome.

Kale
looked around at the fickle lot that were the leaders of the various outcast
families, then he turned himself about, bringing his brother with him.  The
sight had become more than he wanted to look at, and he could see that it had
deeply impacted the outcast leaders as well.  “Brother, settle our people in
the caverns where they are currently waiting for us.  Tell them that we will
find a way up the cliff.”

“What
way, brother?”

“I
don’t know yet,” Kale whispered his reply.  “Let me think on it for a while.”

Kale’s
younger brother called for everyone to follow him.  “Let’s give Kale some time
to think on this one.  Don’t lose faith, now.  We all felt to come here.  It
will work out.  You’ll see.”  The leaders of the outcast families left with Kale’s
younger brother, though several of them were not convinced by his words.

Soon,
Kale was left alone.

“My
lord,” Trallik prostrated himself before Lord Karthan on his throne.

It
had been a long day of heartbreak already, and Lord Karthan was in no mood for
any personal pleading, but he was determined to root out
all
the
conspirators, before any of them could escape.  He wore none of the trappings
of his office.  After all, they had gone down Sheerface and were likely in the
hands of the outcasts by now.

“Tell
me why I shouldn’t have you killed outright, since your name appears on this
scroll,” Lord Karthan held up the sheepskin that listed the members of
Khee-lar’s Covenant of Loyalty, the organization that he had used to overthrow
the gen. 

Trallik
blanched with fear.  It was a sheepskin that Trallik recognized well.  He had
signed his name to it not much more than a week before.  It seemed like a whole
lifetime ago.

“Sire,
oh merciful Lord Karthan,” he bowed his head in shame.  “I did sign my name to
it.  I was upset at having not won the Trials of Caste, sire.  But I did not
follow through with the covenant.  I shouldn’t have signed it, but I did
nothing, sire.  I did no wrong.”

Lord
Karthan’s face was a mask of disappointment.  “Yes, I know.  You and everyone
else in this gen.  You did nothing.  You did nothing to stop his evil.”  Lord
Karthan turned to the guard that stood behind Trallik.  “Take him away.  Put
him in prison with the others.”

“But
sire!” Trallik called out to deaf ears.

At
that moment, Khazak Mail Fist walked into the council chamber and saw what was
happening.

“Sire,
if I may,” Khazak interrupted.  The guard saw his hand motion and stopped as
well.

“What
is it, Khazak?” Lord Karthan rubbed his temples.  The stress of the day had
already been more than any other day of his life, almost more than he could
bear.  And knowing there was much to be done to prepare for the coming orc
invasion, the day was only half over.

“Sire,
by your leave, I would ask that Trallik be pardoned,” Khazak asked.

Lord
Karthan looked up questioningly.  “What?”

“Sire,
Trallik is the one responsible for freeing me.  Not only that, he and his
lifemate Trikki joined in the battle against the conspirators who fled to the
Deep Guard’s caverns.  In fact, it was by Trallik’s hand that Khee-lar was
slain.”

Trallik
knew differently, but he wasn’t about to argue at the moment.

Lord
Karthan looked at Trallik for a long moment before he spoke.  “Why did Khee-lar
ask you to join his secret band?  What did he want from you?”

Trallik
bowed his head, the roller coaster of hope and despair was more than he felt he
could handle, and he certainly couldn’t tell Lord Karthan the truth while
looking him in the eye.

“Sire,
I was to kill your daughter.  But sire, I couldn’t…”

“What!”
Lord Karthan almost jumped off his throne and throttled Trallik right there. 
“You try to kill my daughter, and expect me to pardon you?!”

“Sire,”
Khazak held out a calming hand.  “He decided on his own to not go through with
it.  He did not obey that evil Covenant.  Instead, he turned against it and
fought for us.”