The Game of Fates (59 page)

“Durik,
Manebrow,” Lord Karthan spoke after a few moments, “I hereby call your quest
ended.  Congratulations!  Sadly, it would seem that Raoros Fang and his chief
elite warrior Abetor are no more.  We have problems coming.  These ants you
speak of, and the orc horde that you sent word of with my daughter.  At this
time we don’t have time to grieve the fallen properly, but must instead see to
our defenses.

“So,
Durik, I hereby disband Durik’s Company, and make you leader of the Wolf Riders
Warrior Group,” Karthan looked the young leader in the eyes.  “And Manebrow,
though I could use your talents elsewhere, I do hope you’ve spent enough time
this past couple of weeks working on your riding skills as well.”

Manebrow
nodded cautiously.

“Well,
then I hereby make you chief elite warrior, with charge for the Wolf Riders
Warrior Group.”  Looking at the pair of them, he continued.  “Go now, gather
your warriors.  Put your house in order.  Someday we’ll discover the full
extent of the damage this strife brought to our gen, but for now go and get
your warrior group organized.  I would imagine we’ll have need of your strength
before the sun sets.”

Both
Durik and Manebrow bowed their heads.  “Aye, sire.  We thank you for the honor,
and will discharge our duties to the best of our abilities.”

“Yes,
Durik,” Lord Karthan answered.  “I know you will.”  Lord Karthan turned to
Khazak.  “Plan a council of war for immediately after third meal.  Gather all
the leaders we have, and the ones we just put in place, and invite this Kale
from the outcast contingent.”

Durik’s
heart burned within him at the mention of Kale’s name.

“Further,
Khazak, have what’s left of your Honor Guard warriors dig up this floor and
make a map out of it.  You’ll probably want to get some Patrol Guard warriors
to make sure the map’s right.  I want to be able to plan the defenses of our
gen, from here to the Picket Line.”

The
influence of the stone had left, and now Durik and Manebrow could feel the
energy of new responsibilities, an impending challenge, and the beginnings of a
vision to lead them.

“Also,”
Lord Karthan continued, “I’ve yet to see the Loremaster yet, but if he’s still
alive, have him personally bring the Wolf Riders’ copy of the Scrolls of
Heritage to Durik’s new home in the leaders’ grotto and have him show him the
parts that talk about mercy and justice, and what to do with traitors.

“Finally,
Khazak, I want you to give Durik here a few warriors from the honor guard for a
personal bodyguard until he feels comfortable enough to send them back.”

Durik
was stunned.  “My lord, there is no need for that.  These are my people.  My
uncle is in that warrior group.  I grew up among them.  I will have no need of
any bodyguards among them.”

Lord
Karthan looked Durik in the eyes for a rather long moment.  Throughout it all,
Durik held his gaze with a surety and a confidence that showed no hint of
arrogance, nor of weakness, but only the deep strength of character he had
developed in his short sixteen years of life.

“My
young Durik,” Lord Karthan finally said.  “By all accounts you have done well leading
your small company.  You even had the character necessary to exile Trallik, a
fellow yearling, when the time came, so Khazak tells me.  But Durik, if you are
to be a leader caste in this gen, you must understand that your loyalty lies
first to this gen, not to any family, nor to any friend.  If your loyalties lie
anywhere else, when the time of decision comes, you will choose the easier
wrong choice, rather than the more difficult right choice.  There will be times
when you will have to sacrifice those you love the most for the good of this
gen.

“You
think on that, leader caste of the Wolf Riders Warrior Group.  Remember, soon
you will be leading your warrior group into battle.  It is a time of sacrifice,
a time of valor, and a time when discipline and obedience must be absolute.  Do
what is necessary to ensure the success of your warrior group, even if that
means condemning a traitor to die before you ride off to battle, or even if
that means charging your warrior group down a steep slope into the midst of the
orc horde, just to give the rest of the gen time to reform.  Before tomorrow is
done, there will be many who will be called on to give their all for this gen. 
Durik, are you ready to give that call?”

This
was tough medicine for Durik who, though he was a veteran combat leader and the
chosen Paladin of Morgra, was but sixteen years of age.  Adventures were one
thing, when one could run and hide, or find a more defensible place to fight. 
But open, pitched battles were a completely different thing entirely.  After
all, in battle one’s fate depended as much upon the actions of the rest of the
gen as on his own actions, though the Fates seemed often to rule the day. 
Would he be ready to sacrifice his warrior group, those he had grown up around,
or would he shirk that duty when the time came?

Pondering
for only a moment in his heart, Durik looked Lord Karthan in the eyes.  “Aye,
lord.  If called upon, we shall all fight and die together.  For the good of
the gen, then, sire!”

“For
the good of the gen,” Lord Karthan repeated, almost wistfully, then breathing
deeply, the strange emotion passed like a cloud and he nodded at the pair of
veteran leaders.  “Be back here at the end of third meal.  Have your warrior
group prepared to ride immediately following our council of war.  I think it
best to send you out to keep the orcs blind to our movements until we want them
to know, and to have you keep us informed of their progress.”

“Yes,
sire!” Durik answered, sobered by the realities of the challenges that lay ahead.

Soon
he and Manebrow were talking about organization, scouting tactics, and some
possible surprises for the orc horde as they headed toward the home of their
new warrior group.

As
the new leadership team of the Wolf Riders left for their new assignment, and
Khazak Mail Fist left to find the Loremaster, Lord Karthan sat down on the
table, his the face of one lost in thought.  A sudden idea had come to him,
then in his heart a realization began to form.

“I
am not the rightful lord of this gen.  That is why Durik could not give me the
Kale Stone,” he muttered to himself, almost testing his feelings.  In his
heart, the confirmation of what he had just realized rang true, and Lord
Karthan bowed his head, tears welling up in his eyes.

After
several long, agonizing moments, he wiped his eyes and thought of the coming
battle.  These were events of chance, he knew.  The arrow falling from the sky
can strike lord as easily as warrior.  He had never felt so close to death, yet
so alive at the same time. 

Would
he die tomorrow?  He did not know.  But this he did know; he would do his
duty—for the good of the gen.

A
s Durik entered the council
chamber, he was surprised by the changes in the place.  The long, heavy tables
and their attendant chairs had been removed, leaving only the stone dais and
throne at the far end of the room.  The flagstones that had once covered the
floor had been taken up and stacked in piles around the edge of the room,
revealing the hard-packed dirt underneath.

The
entire center of the room, less a small walkway around the edges, had been
piled with dirt in seemingly random mounds, most of which were covered with
twigs or blades of grass.  Spread throughout the entire construction were broad
scrapes like miniature paths, seemingly bisecting a couple of lengths of long
blue woolen scarfs that had been tacked down along the floor between the
mounds.  In a couple of places small holes had been dug.  One of these had a
piece of limestone in it, the other was the nexus of all of the miniature
paths.

The
honor guard warrior motioned yet again for Durik to keep moving and take his
seat.  He’d not noticed his efforts initially, but now as Durik looked about
the room he could see that there were several elite warriors here, though none
were from his new warrior group.  At the head of the chamber, standing with a
pointing stick in one hand, stood Lord Karthan, flanked on one side by Khazak
Mail Fist.  Subconsciously, Durik grabbed for his pouch and felt the weight of
the Kale Stone within it.

Durik
nodded to the honor guard warrior and acknowledged Lord Karthan’s welcoming
stare, then quickly moved along the edge of the wall to take a seat near where
he’d seen Raoros Fang, his predecessor in the Wolf Riders Warrior Group, seated
before.

Following
behind him, Manebrow made sense of the neatly arranged mess in the center of
the room.  “Ah, I see.  That’s quite a terrain map!  They’ve modeled every
hill, every path, every little stream, the main road, even the towers of the
picket line.  How clever!”

Taking
his seat on a pile of flagstones, Durik looked with new eyes on the terrain
map.  “Aha, then those sticks arranged around the perimeter of the room aren’t
to keep us off the map, they’re the towers of the picket line.  And I guess the
blue wool would be the small creeks that are running now with the spring
runoff.”

“Aye,
sire,” Manebrow nodded.  “They’ve gone so far as to put grass on those hills
that haven’t trees, and twigs on the hills and in the valleys that are thick
with them.”

Around
the pair, the many elite warriors that had gathered here were pointing and
talking about the same thing.  Looking around, Durik did not see any other
warrior group leaders or their chief elite warriors, other than Khazak Mail
Fist.  He also didn’t see any of the functional council members.  Suddenly,
however, a very familiar face caught his eye.

“Manebrow,
what’s Trallik doing here?” he said, pointing to the other side of the chamber. 
Trallik sat speaking to a middle-aged kobold that had none of the trappings of
a Kale Gen warrior.  The strange kobold seemed to sense Durik looking and
looked up directly into Durik’s eyes.

Manebrow
looked across the room.  “I do not know, sire, but I think Khazak noticed that
we’ve seen him.  Here he comes now.”  Durik broke his stare with the stranger
and looked up at Khazak Mail Fist.

Khazak
came and knelt in front of the pair.  “You’re wondering about Trallik, I
presume?”  Durik and Manebrow nodded.  “It is a long story, and we’re about to
start, but suffice it to say that he has been pardoned by Lord Karthan, on my
recommendation.”

Durik
and Manebrow were both stunned by the revelation.

“Without
his actions this day, Khee-lar Shadow Hand might still be in charge of this
gen.” 

“Speaking
of outsiders, what did you do with that mercenary from the northern gens you
brought home with you?” Khazak asked.

“We
sent him back the way we came, on his own request,” Manebrow answered.

“Hm. 
Could have used another warrior,” Khazak said absently, noticing the signal
from his elite warrior posted at the door to take attendance.  Apparently
everyone had come who had been summoned.  Khazak stood and left the pair
speechless as he made his way back to the front of the chamber.

As
Durik pondered on this, Khazak Mail Fist pounded his staff of office on the
remaining flagstone to call the assembly to order.  Slipping in almost
unnoticed, Lord Karthan’s daughter Kiria and the healer Myaliae from the Krall
Gen sat in the shadows next to the side entrance that led off to Lord Karthan’s
personal chambers.

“My
fellow Kales,” Lord Karthan spoke in a loud voice to quiet down the assembled
mass of mostly elite warriors.  “By now, all of you have heard about the
impending arrival of the orc horde.  Thanks to our new Wolf Riders Warrior
Group Leader, Durik, we know quite a bit about them.”

Durik
nodded as everyone turned to look at him.

“We
know that they have about a thousand orc warriors,” Lord Karthan began to list
off the forces.  “With them, they have fifty ogres, likely mercenaries.”  There
was a general groan and some voices spoke in fear.  Khazak pounded his staff of
office to quiet them down again.

“Finally,
they have with them five hundred kobolds from the northern gens, a hundred of
which are wolf-riding cavalry.”  At this, many voices were raised in
frustration and protest.  Lord Karthan raised his hands.

“I
know.  I know that it is not something that we like to do, this fighting
against our neighbors,” Lord Karthan answered their protests.  “But I think
this last couple of weeks has seen enough of it.  If these kobolds come as
lackeys of the Bloodhand Orc Tribe, then we must be prepared to fight them
too.  In the end, as we showed this day, all those who would destroy our gen,
or threaten our families, or try to enslave us must be resisted.  Today we have
thrown off the evil in our own house.  Tomorrow, let us throw off the evil that
threatens our very lives!”

The
evils of the day were still fresh in everyone’s minds, and they were eager to
not be caught napping again, but to stand as one.  Many voiced their approval
and support of Lord Karthan’s words.  After a few moments, Lord Karthan held up
his hands.

“Now,
my Kale brothers, we are not alone in this fight!  Scouts report that the Kale
Gen is mobilized, and the bulk of their forces are marching this way even as we
speak, with Lord Krall himself at their head.”  This was some welcome news
indeed, and brought many grunts of approval and voices of gratitude for their
cousins of the Krall Gen.

“I
would be remiss, however, if I did not speak of the great ant threat.  Durik,
you discovered much in your quest.  Perhaps sharing some of it would help bring
to light where we stand with the great ants.  Would you stand and speak of this?”
Lord Karthan asked.

Durik
stood up as all eyes turned to him.  The Trials of Caste a couple of weeks
before had been unnerving enough, but standing in front of so many competent,
able elite warriors to advise them was a bit more than he was used to.  Clearing
his voice, he looked around at the many eyes that looked expectantly at him. 
To his relief, though there were some that looked at him judgmentally, most of
them looked at him with expectation.  Next to him, Manebrow’s eyes held nothing
but respect for and pride in his young leader caste, which gave him a boost of
confidence.

“My
fellow warriors,” Durik began.  “As you know, Durik’s Company left the gen a
couple of weeks ago.  As we were traveling to the Krall Gen in search of the
Kale Stone, we came upon some of Khee-lar Shadow Hand’s conspirators who had
attacked a caravan of honor guard warriors bearing Lord Karthan’s sons to the
Krall Gen.  Khazak Mail Fist somehow managed to survive that attack and fled
into the woods with the young whelps.  We followed him to a strange group of
low hills south of the First Night’s Resting Place.  There we all discovered a
large colony of great hunter ants.

“In
number, these hunter ants appear to be definitely more than a thousand workers,
probably hundreds of scouts, and a few ant commanders and perhaps ant
warriors.  Jerrig, whose team is still in the underdark, was given the honor
name of Queen Slayer for killing their queen in single-handed combat.”

The
entire assembly was surprised by this last comment.  Jerrig was well known
among them, and they’d never thought he’d make it through the Trials of Caste. 
To all of a sudden have received an honor name was shocking.

“Believe
me, my friends, it was well deserved,” Durik continued.  “His bravery saved
Trallik, whom you see among us here today, from the ant queen’s very lair!” 
Murmurs of approval rippled through the group.  Saving the life of a fellow
warrior on the field of battle was considered one of the most noble things a
kobold could do.

“The
Krall Gen is not blind to the threat these ants present, either,” Durik
continued.  “Already they have suffered many casualties because of these ants. 
But the death of their queen and the Krall Gen’s aggressive hunting of these
ants has caused them to scatter and divide into many smaller groups.  These
ants seem to not be a great hindrance to our battle with the orcs.”

The
tension in the room seemed to subside just a bit for a moment.

“Would
that there was no other news to pass on, but there is yet another force which
comes against us, and another force which comes to join with us,” Durik
continued.  Lord Karthan’s eyes narrowed and he looked with earnestness at
Durik.  They had not discussed any other forces.

“Of
what do you speak, Durik?” Lord Karthan asked for them all.

“My
lord, and assembled warriors of the Kale Gen,” Durik continued.  “The queen
which Jerrig killed led merely an advance force.  She was sent to our valley by
one much greater, a terrible ant queen that is as large as this chamber, with
armor as thick as many shields, mandibles like great scythes, and spikes like
swords on her many limbs.  This great beast comes at the head of a great army,
and not an army of drones and scouts, but an army of warrior ants.”

A
collective groan sounded from the assembly.

“Durik,”
Goryon, Gorgon’s father called out, “How can you know this for sure?  Have you
seen her?  Is she and her army far behind you?  And in all this, where are the
rest of the yearlings we sent out, like my son?  Why have you returned when
you’ve not completed your quest?”

Several
others called out the same thing.  While there was respect for him in the room,
there were valid questions that had to be answered.  Durik waited a few moments
for the room to quiet down so he could be heard.

“My
fellow Kales,” he said as he reached back into his belt pouch.  “Your sons,
cousins, and brothers were safe when last I saw them, but they each have a
different mission to fulfill right now.  Even now, Ardan and his team are with
Lord Krall.  It is because of that team’s efforts that Lord Krall knows of the
impending orc invasion and is moving to assist us.

“Gorgon
and his team of warriors have stayed in the underdark to gather the outcasts
together, especially those outcasts who call themselves the Deep Gen.”

“Aye,
but who cares about a bunch of outcasts?  Thieves and murderers!  Why did you
leave them there when there is a gen to be defended?  If you returned, should
not they have returned as well?” Goryon pressed.

Durik
held up his hand.  “Goryon, it is not as you think.  This is not a small band
of outcasts.  They are a large gen, with over a thousand warriors.  They left
our gen as an entire warrior group some four generations ago now, and have
grown large in the relative peace of the underdark.  They are part of our gen,
and I have been commanded to gather them.”

Lord
Karthan and Khazak Mail Fist were as stunned as everyone else in the room at
the revelation of another gen nearly the size of their own living in the
underdark below their valley.  Goryon, on the other hand, was having nothing of
these tall tales.

“Now
look, lad,” Goryon growled as the noise quieted down a bit.  “Here’s where you
and I part ways.  I’ll not believe such wild tales, not without so much proof. 
Your word used to be good with me, but you’ve got a lot of proving to do for me
to believe you.”

Durik
nodded his head.  About him, the room had grown quiet as everyone waited
expectantly for Durik to the answer the challenge.

Calmly,
Durik produced a small object wrapped in a simple cloth.  With almost unnerving
slowness, he removed one fold of the cloth at a time until a clear ball with
flecks of bronze throughout it lay revealed in his hand.

“And
what’s that supposed to be?” Goryon asked, still very much in his ire. 

At
the head of the chamber, Lord Karthan held his breath.  He had not wanted the
stone revealed, but some unknown force had seemed to quiet him, so that he had
not been able to interrupt Durik.

Durik
placed the stone in his right hand, dropping the cloth to the ground. 
Immediately, a slight glow began to emanate from the stone, mixing with the
light from the braziers placed at the head of the chamber to light the terrain
model.  Along with the light came a calming influence, as if an old friend had
entered the room.

Durik
waited a few moments for the warm light to grow a bit brighter.  “My brethren
of the Kale Gen, I present to you the Kale Stone.”

The
room was silent as everyone took in what had just happened.  For several
moments no one spoke, until finally, Goryon stood up.

“Durik,
what proof have you that this is actually the Kale Stone?  There are many
stories in our halls of learning about items with magical power of one sort or
another.  How do we know that you are not deceiving us with some unknown
power?”