The Game of Fates (74 page)

Drakebane
couldn’t believe his own eyes.  What sorcery was this?  Lying about the ground
at the entrance to the enclosure, some thirty or more of his warriors and two
of the largest ogres were screaming in pain, many of them with stiff limbs or
limbs twitching spasmodically.

“What
is this?” he asked in wonder.

Next
to him, both Ahn-Ki and Shagra were silent.

“What
make them do this?” Drakebane asked again, looking at the hobgoblin.

“Lord
Drakebane,” the hobgoblin replied.  “I do not know.  It’s not like any magic
I’ve ever seen.”

Shagra
noticed something.  “It is not magic,” he said, pointing at the bundles of chew
weed that these warriors and ogres had broken open and plundered.  Shagra knew chew
weed made one feel good, but it took away a warrior’s control of his own body
over time, leaving one a blabbering idiot, soiling himself and useless, after
several years of use.  He never touched the stuff because of that reason,
though most orcs did.

“Look,”
Shagra pointed out as he walked forward and picked a handful of the leafy weed
out of a spasming warrior’s hand.  “All this warriors and ogres took chew weed. 
And look!” he said, pointing at the brown, mushy substance that was smeared on
some of the leaves.  “This poison!”

Several
of the warriors and ogres who had been looking at the spectacle had some of the
fouled weeds in their hands.  Upon hearing it was poison, however, many of them
dropped the leafy plants and ran out of the enclosure.  Some who had been
chewing the stuff while they watched spat the leaf out and looked about with
fear and panic in their eyes.

Drakebane
shook his head in utter frustration.  Seeing the leader of the ogres nearby, he
walked up to the massive brute.

“Go
now!” Drakebane yelled at the big, equally dumb oaf that was the ogre mercenary
chief.  “Send many ogres!  We catch little kobolds!  They punch through little
kobolds that run and catch them!” he said as he punched a fist into his other
hand.  “Many ogres be too much.  You break them and take them!  You kill them
for poison us!”

The
big ogre grimaced and nodded his head in partial understanding.  Then, as if a
light had suddenly come on, he smiled.  “Yes,” he muttered back in orc-speak. 
“Yes, many ogres, less arrows!  We run fast, they can no run away!”

Turning
away from the orc chieftain, the ogre jogged heavily over to the many ogre
warriors who were standing around outside the enclosure watching the
spectacle.  “Tog and Bograt!” he commanded.  Two of his sub-leaders looked at
him.  “You take warriors!  You go run after kobolds!  You catch them!”

The
two sub-leaders each walked over to where they had been sitting before the
screaming began, grabbing their weapons and pushing their companions along with
them.  In a few moments, twelve ogres had gathered and were lumbering into the
woods at a slow run.

It
didn’t take them long to find their first kobolds.  Their arrival at the wood
line flushed out a small team of them.  With great zeal the first few ogres ran
with all their might after the four wolf riders.  When they caught the rearmost
rider off the back of his wolf, however, the great oaf that caught him stopped
to show him to all of his friends, who also stopped to see the little creature
before they smashed him on a rock.

Before
long, Pintor and his two remaining companions arrived at the ambush position,
yelling and screaming for the group to mount up.

“Ogres! 
Twelve of them!”

Durik
and Manebrow looked at each other from behind their hasty barrier.  There was
no way they could take down twelve ogres in their current position, and they
didn’t have any other traps set up that would do it either.

“Time
to run, sire,” Manebrow said as he put his arrow away and began walking toward
their wolves.

“Agreed,”
Durik said, following suit.  “Leaders!  Everyone!  Mount up!”

As
the wolf riders began mounting up, from the other side of the meadow the first
couple of ogres appeared.  Immediately, the wolf riders nudged their mounts
forward at a run.

There
was not that much further to go, an hour at most by wolf-back.  Though the
ogres were fast in short sprints, they were no faster than the wolf riders over
long distances.  Also, the ogres were in unfriendly territory, and didn’t know
what was around each corner.  The quicker they caught the little wolf-riders,
the less chance they had of being led into a trap.  It was a contest of
endurance that neither side could afford to lose.

Lord
Karthan and the other leaders of the various kobold forces had all climbed to
the top of what they were now calling “Great Bow Hill.”  Looking far out across
the valley, the kobold leaders could hardly believe what they were seeing. 

The
dragon had left their side of the valley, had flown toward the area of the
Doorstep, and had begun dipping down toward the ground, alternately blasting
fireballs into the trees and meadows of that part of the valley or raking them
with broad lines of fire.

Already
it had become such a conflagration that mighty columns of flame could be seen
rising back up from the forest floor, casting ash far into the air.  The
noon-day sun was beginning to be dimmed by the amount of smoke and ash
gathering in the air above their home valley.  And as if the fires the dragon
started were not enough, cinders had risen through the super-heated air, only
to land on nearby stands of trees to light them on fire as well.  In the eyes
of the handful of kobold leaders could be seen a deep sense of helplessness and
sorrow.

“Our
forest, father!  What is to be done if the flames reach our forest?” Krall was
saying, the despair in his voice clearly evident.  “Shall we risk taking our
warriors home?  Perhaps we could fight this fire!”

Standing
next to him, Lord Krall just shook his head.  “No, son.  There is nothing we
can do.  That fire is beyond our ability to fight.  Besides, we’d never make it
home in time, and would probably just get caught in the fire and die anyway.”

“Then
what of our home?” Krall asked, tears beginning to stream down his face.  “What
will happen to our people?  Will there be anyone or anything to come back to?”

“I
don’t know, son,” was all Lord Krall could say.

“Why
would the dragon do this?” Kale asked no one in particular.

“I
don’t know why, unless perhaps the ants have already broken into the valley,
though I don’t see why the dragon would care about ants in this valley,” Lord
Karthan said.

Khazak
Mail Fist shook his head.  “I should have seen it earlier.  The dragon is in
league with the orcs!”

Most
of the group turned to look at Khazak.  Lord Karthan asked what they all were
thinking.  “But why?  What do we have that a dragon could possibly want?”

Khazak
shrugged his shoulders.  “It may not be what we have, but what he’s been told
that we have.  I don’t know what a dragon could want from us and why he needs
an orc horde to get it from us.”

The
entire group stood looking at the flames for several moments in silence.

“How
long until the flames reach us, would you say?” Lord Karthan turned and asked
the group.

“Probably
this afternoon some time,” Khazak Mail Fist spoke up.  “Remember the last time
we had a fire in the valley?  It was in the fall, when the rains were up,
however, so it didn’t spread very far.”

“We
were whelps then.  It’s been too long ago for me,” Lord Karthan said, his eyes
fixed on the approaching fire.

“It
traveled about as fast as a wolf can run,” Khazak said, “or so my father told
me.”

“Then
this afternoon it is,” Lord Karthan nodded.  “That does not leave us much time.” 
Kale and Lord Sennak had no frame of reference to even guess.  The amazing
sight that confronted them all was as alien to them as the deepest depths of
the underdark were to the other leaders of the group.

“With
only an afternoon to deal with,” Lord Karthan was saying, “I think our only
course of action is to flee to the caverns of my gen and let the fire deal with
the orcs and ants.  Does anyone else have a different idea?”

Khazak
was first to speak up.  “I’d say we flee to the caves and deal with what’s left
of them once the fire passes by.”  Around him, the rest of the kobold leaders
nodded in agreement, except for Kale, who was looking not at the distant fire,
but at something much closer.

“I
do not think we have much of a choice, my friends,” Kale said.  Everyone looked
at him, and then down the slope to where he was pointing.  “It appears that
Durik and his Wolf Riders have returned.  I would imagine that the orcs are not
far behind them.”

The
mass of riders on their black wolves were riding hard along the road at the far
end of the slope, having already cleared the trees.  Not a hundred steps behind
them a handful of ogres came into sight, marking the beginning of a mixed mass
of orcs and ogres, all of whom seemed intent on catching the cavalry contingent.

Suddenly
spurred into action by the appearance of the orc horde’s vanguard, Lord Karthan
immediately made for the ladder that ran down the back slope of the stone
hill.  “Come!  Remember, I will draw them up the slope first!”

D
urik and his warrior group had
been able to break away from the ogres a couple of times, only to find a good
vantage point up on a hill where they could fire a couple of volleys at them. 
It had had some effect, mostly just slowing the big beasts down.  However, when
the rest of the orc horde showed up, running in long, ragged columns behind
them, Durik and Manebrow knew they had a dragon by the tail, so to speak, and
so they led their entire Wolf Riders Warrior Group in as straight a line as the
terrain would allow toward the hill where Lord Karthan had commanded.

Durik
looked over his shoulder as they broke out into the openness of the huge
meadow.  The group of ogres, ten of which were still following them, was still
running after them, and though they didn’t look like they were getting closer,
the massive beasts couldn’t be outside the range of the huge javelins some of
them carried.  Of course, Durik wasn’t about to stop to let them try a throw or
two.

Not
more than a bowshot behind the ogres that were pursuing them, the first mixed
groups of orcs and ogres were running along.  Seeing that the enemy was in a
tight enough group, Durik called out for his riders to follow him.  Then about
halfway between where the road came out into the open, and where it turned
toward the caverns of his gen, he plunged headlong off the road and onto the
long, sloping field.  Like a flock of birds, the entire Wolf Riders Warrior
Group followed behind Durik, making the sharp turn into the field, then charging
straight up it.

Behind
Durik’s warrior group, some of the ogres stopped and threw javelins.  One of
them struck true, skewering a wolf and throwing its rider into the dirt.  A
pair of other riders saw what happened and stopped to pick up the fallen
rider.  The ogres were upon them before the wolf could get far with its double
burden, however, and suddenly a large rock smashed the two riders and the wolf
they were on as they lagged behind the rest.  Seeing the fate of his
companions, the third rider spurred his own wolf on at top speed.

Up
at the front of the column, Durik and Manebrow sat as far up in the saddle as
they could, looking for any sign of their forces in the wood line at the top of
the hill.  Finally, as they approached the mid-point of the slope, the sound of
a ram’s horn could be heard on the breeze, and a few moments later the ogres
broke off pursuit and began to return to their own forces.  Moments later, the
much shorter kobolds could see the spear tips of a kobold shield wall near the
top of the slope.

Far
down the slope, where the wolf riders had plunged off the road, the first units
of the orc horde had halted and were beginning to form up into large masses of
warriors.  As they assembled, Drakebane went from one group to another roaring
a deep, resonating challenge that was answered in turn by each group of
warriors.

There,
at the top of the slope a broad, thin line of kobolds with shields and spears
had marched out of the wood line.  Just looking at the little creatures, he couldn’t
help but think that there were only half as many of them as there were of his
warriors.  How could so few of these much smaller warriors hope to stand
against his entire horde of strong warriors?

This
was a good day.  The smoke in the air from the great burning far off behind
them in the forest where the dragon was taking on the ants served to take the
edge off the bright noon-day sun, and the appearance of so few warriors was a
welcome sight as well.  Though he didn’t know why there were so few warriors,
Drakebane thought that maybe many had died in the past six years, or maybe here
was Karthan and those loyal to him, or maybe here was only part of the force. 
Whatever the reason, he would happily beat these kobolds into submission, to
have something to show his master next time he returned.

Beckoning
to both Shagra and Ahn-Ki to come to him, the orc leader raised his axe for all
to see.  He was met by a resounding cheer.

“Yes,
lord,” Ahn-Ki replied as he and Shagra arrived at the field of battle.

“We
make shapes, like you teach me,” Drakebane said.  “Today, we do ‘Horns of
Minotaur’ for capture kobolds on top of long hill.”

Ahn-Ki
nodded in subtle surprise and acceptance.  He had not known that Drakebane had
actually understood anything he’d taught him.  He really didn’t expect the oaf
to be able to pick the right formation for the moment either.

“You!”
Drakebane said, pointing at Shagra.  “You take orcs from there to there,” he
said, dividing off about half of the orcs that had formed on the road.  “And
ogres they have.  You be horn of minotaur.  You go up that side,” he said,
motioning for Shagra’s group to go left, “on road and in trees behind kobolds.”

“You!”
he thumped Ahn-Ki in the chest.  “You hobgoblins take kobolds with spears and
be head of minotaur.  I give you some orcs, and you have kobolds with wolves
too for in case battle go bad.”

Ahn-Ki
nodded his acceptance.  “Lord, may I have the orcs with bows?”

Drakebane
thought for a moment then nodded.  “I take all these orcs,” he continued,
motioning to the rest of the line.  “And I take ogre chieftain and go up this
side,” he said, pointing up to the right.  “We be other horn of minotaur.”

Drakebane
then looked at both of them.  “When horns go, head of minotaur go forward, but
not fast like horns.  When horns go past kobolds, we come together, then
kobolds be trapped!”

Ahn-Ki
nodded as did Shagra, the twinkle in his one good eye made only the more evil
by the scars that lined his face, and the patch over his other eye.

“Go
now!” Drakebane said.  “Today we fight!”

Jominai
spat in the dirt.  He didn’t like what was happening.  He had secretly hoped
that the Kales would have smashed the orc somehow, so they could go home
without a fight.  He didn’t like the thought of fighting the shield wall he saw
at the top of the long slope, especially with these exhausted, inferior
troops.  But as his second Marbo had reminded him, duty was duty.

“By
gens!  Form—Up!” Marbo called to the still panting, miserable levies from the
degenerate gens.  They had been made to run behind the orcs and ogres, and had
been constantly prodded along by their hobgoblin overseers.  Now that they had
arrived on the field of battle, they were just about spent.

Out
in front of the miserable group of sweat-soaked, panting levies, their
hobgoblin overseer looked across the group fiercely.  Jominai knew they weren’t
moving fast enough for his liking, but they weren’t much over half the height
of the orcs, and such a long run with such short legs and carrying equipment
had been too much for many of them.  They had left stragglers who couldn’t keep
up the pace all along the route.  The rest who had made it were trying
desperately to catch their breath.

“You
move quickly or I will take off heads!” Ahn-Ki’s gravelly voice cut through the
multitude of grumbling and panting.  Suddenly, there was only silence and
movement as the levies did their best to get in formation without sticking each
other with their spears.

Soon,
four blocks of some eighty or so levies were formed up, with more stragglers
arriving as Ahn-Ki told them to begin the march forward.  Moving out in front
of the entire formation on his riding wolf, Jominai called out “Forward
March.”  This time his voice did not crack.

Behind
them, on the road still, Krulak and the hundred wolf riders he led from his
mother Kobold Gen stood and watched, waiting for the hobgoblin that was with
them to command them to move forward.  Behind him rode his second, as well as
the blessed Oracle Demo and the covenant mage Gaenthik.  Looking off to one side,
the leader of the fifty or so orcs with bows sneered back at Krulak and pointed
at him.  The orc clearly wanted to make sure Krulak knew he was being watched.

Well,
he had something for that orc, if the situation ever permitted.  For now,
however, he would have to wait and see if the opportunity ever arose.

Lord
Karthan marched out of the tree line behind the first ten companies of
warriors.  Giving the command to the warriors who were around him, they blew
the command to form a single-depth shield wall.  Instantly, just liked they’d
practiced last night, three hundred and almost fifty warriors moved as one. 
Within moments the companies were spreading out and extending the line until,
within a short time, they all stood in one long line, anchored on the left by
the tall stone hill.

For
several heart beats Lord Karthan and those around him watched the orcs piling
out of the tree line and the ogres chasing Durik’s Wolf Riders up the long
slope.  Eventually the ogres broke off the pursuit and retreated back down the
slope, and Lord Karthan sent Khazak Mail Fist to direct Durik and his wolf
riders to take up a position on the right flank of the shield wall line.

As
they watched the orcs gathering at the bottom of the slope, Lord Karthan stared
off farther into the valley, where the flames were burning far into the sky. 
The dragon had stopped dipping down and stoking the already considerable
flames, and instead had contented himself with circling the middle of the
valley in one large, irregular circle that seemed to be getting incrementally
closer to them.

“Karthan,”
Lord Krall, who sat on a rather muscular riding dog next to him broke his
concentration.  “What do you make of that?”

Lord
Karthan looked down toward the bottom of the slope where the kobold levies had
finally started arriving; most of them in one long line followed by scores of
stragglers trying to catch up.  The Kobold Gen cavalry had already arrived and
were standing in one block off to the side.  What Lord Krall was referring to,
however, was the fact that the orc line was beginning to split in two, with
each side moving in the opposite direction of the other.

“I
don’t know yet,” Lord Karthan replied.

For
several minutes the leaders watched the orcs moving.  Eventually, the orcs on
their left side began to move off in groups toward the hill that bordered the
long slope on the left.  Almost simultaneously, the orcs on the right moved off
down the road, which came around alongside the crest of the hill on the south. 
While both groups had ogres with them, the group on the left clearly had the
majority of the ogres with them.

At
almost the same time as the two long lines of orcs, a third element formed,
this one made up of the kobold levies from the northern gens, with what
appeared to be a band of orc archers and the Kobold cavalry formed up behind
them.  This last group moved out much more slowly than the other two.

“Well,
that’s surprising!” the younger Krall finally said.  “It would appear that
they’re going to try to surround us.”

Lord
Krall spat on the ground.  “Karthan, you know what this means, don’t you?”