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Authors: Joel Babbitt

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Young Adult

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BOOK: The Game of Fates
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“I
honor the bravery and the skill of those who fought yesterday!” he said as the
crowd cheered his words.  “And may we never forget those who sacrificed all
that we might live!”

After
a moment of reflection, Lord Kale continued.

“There
are many heroes, and all did their part.  Today we honor but a few among the
many.  Mirrik!  Hemmet!  Come forward!”

The
two muscular warriors walked forward and knelt before their lord.

“Be
it known,” Lord Kale said loud enough for all to hear, “that these are the only
two remaining leaders from what used to be the Deep Gen.  They and their
brethren of the former Deep Gen sacrificed much.  Of their nine hundred
warriors, not five hundred of them stand with us here today.  The rest lay
still on the field of battle or in the deeps.  While all gave much, none gave
more than them.

“For
this bravery and devotion, know this, that from this time forward I name Mirrik
as leader of the newly reformed Deep Guard Warrior Group, and Hemmet as leader
of a new warrior group called the Underdark Warrior Group, who will restore the
Deep Gen’s home to our gen, and make their home in the underdark.”

The
two new Kale Gen leader caste stood up and, after grasping hands with Lord
Kale, took their places back in line.  Lord Kale beckoned for Goryon to come
forward.

“For
those who were there, you saw what Goryon the blacksmith did with his great
bows!”  Many a hearty cheer erupted from the warriors in the crowd.  “And what
I’m sure everyone here heard already was how he made a lucky shot with one that
brought the dragon down in the middle of the clearing.

“Because
of that, I hereby give Goryon the honor name of Lucky Shot!”  The crowd cheered
and laughed at the same time.  “Furthermore, I name him leader caste, to lead
the Metalsmithies Warrior Group.”  Goryon blushed, yet at the same time it was
obvious to see he was proud of his new honor name, and proud of his new post. 

At
Lord Kale’s word, Goryon stood and returned to his post.  Durik then came
forward.

After
a moment, Lord Kale silenced the crowd.  “Finally, not a month ago at the
Trials of Caste that this gen held, a yearling passed not only from whelp to
warrior, but he became a leader caste, and was given a company of warriors and
an impossible quest.”

Durik
bowed his head and smiled to himself.  It had been barely two weeks, but yet it
seemed like a lifetime ago.  He hadn’t even had time to move into his new house
yet.  Blinking, he looked back up at Lord Kale who had looked toward him before
turning back to the crowd.

“Not
only did Durik’s Company accomplish their quest, but he and his companions
played many key roles in our victory.  Whether it was running through the underdark
to gather the shards of a shattered Kale Gen, or scouting the orc horde with
the Krall Gen, fighting ants and orcs, or leading the Wolf Riders as they led
the orc horde on a merry chase, Durik and his companions have proved themselves
heroes for all time.”

Durik
looked humbled and almost uncomfortable with the praise.

“Finally,
though all of that was miraculous in and of itself, still greater were the
things that Durik did personally.  He is the chosen of Morgra, who is the
guardian of our race, and who is the Keeper of the Covenant of The Sorcerer. 
Through Morgra’s help and following her guidance, he came through untold
dangers to find the Kale Stone for our gen.  Also, by the power of Morgra and
his own personal bravery, Durik personally slew the dragon.

“Already
Morgra has given him the title of paladin, and my predecessor has given him
leadership of the Wolf Riders Warrior Group, so all that remains to me is to
give him an honor name.”  He turned to Durik.

“Durik,
paladin of Morgra, from now on you shall be known as Durik Dragon Slayer.  May
you carry that honor name with pride!”

 

 

The
Kobold Gen cavalry and the two hundred and some survivors from their other
northern gen levies were gathered together to leave.  They too had found
shelter among the caves of the Kale Gen and had been enjoying their
hospitality, meager as it was.  But rain was on the horizon and they longed for
home, so much so that one of the contingents of levies had already left. 
Before they left, however, the two leader caste paid Durik a visit in his new
home in the leader’s grotto.

“But
I’ve no idea where your gen lies,” Durik answered, reluctant to even consider
traveling with his day of joining on the horizon.  Holding onto his arm, Kiria
was even less excited about the idea.

“Give
him the map, will you?” Krulak prompted his companion.

“Here,”
Jominai said, passing a rolled up piece of lamb’s skin to Durik.  “It shows
where our gen is, though I think you’ll find that the Krall Gen traders know
where we are as well.  They run caravans our way often during the summer,
though I’m not sure they’ll be that regular this summer.”

“But
why would you want me to come?” Durik asked.

“Durik,
you are the Paladin of Morgra,” Krulak answered.  “My father, Lord Krulak of
the Kobold Gen, would be most interested in speaking with you.  We have…
prophecies that we would like to share with you; prophecies that you may very
well have the key to understand.”

“And
our mages could help your future lifemate here learn more about Covenant Magic,
which is the type of magic she wields,” Jominai added, deliberately piquing
Kiria’s interest.

Kiria
perked up quickly.  “Lord Kale’s lifemate, Lady Kamia, mentioned that name. 
What does it mean?”

“It
is the type of power you wield,” Jominai answered.  “We can tell you much more
about it when you come.”

“Listen,
Durik,” Krulak said.  “Our doors are open to you.  We seek Morgra’s guidance,
for it is long since we had it.  Will you come?”

Durik
chewed on his lip.  “I have your map, my friends.  I cannot commit to it yet,
but I will consider it.  For now, I have my own gen to rebuild.”

Krulak
nodded.  “We understand.  But look at yourself,” he said, pointing at Durik’s
bronze scales.  “You cannot say that you are all Kale.  Your scales place you
as a descendant of the Kobold Gen as well,” he said, pointing out his own
bronze-tipped scales.  “And of purer blood than my own half-bronze, half-red
heritage.”

“Perhaps,”
Kiria broke in, “but my lifemate to be is previously engaged.  We shall have to
see what the future brings.  Now why don’t the two of you just run along.”

Krulak
chewed his lip.  “Very well.  Perhaps we will see you this summer then.”

“Perhaps,”
Durik said, smiling pleasantly as the pair of Kobold Gen leaders walked away.

“Rather
insistent,” Kiria said, a bit perplexed by the whole encounter.

“Yes,”
Durik agreed, a bit perplexed by Kiria’s protectiveness of him.  Clearly, being
joined was going to take a bit of adapting.

 

 

Lord
Krall, his son Krall, and all of the house guard and scouts who had mounts had
departed for home immediately after the battle, leaving the leaders of the
three warrior contingents to march their troops into the Kale Gen’s caves to
wait out the fire.  They had navigated the borders of the fire well enough and
arrived in time to help guide their gen’s response to the crisis.

It
was only after the crisis had been averted and the fires had been dealt with
that Lady Karaba could convince her son Morigar to come out of his room and
face his father.  That was not a pleasant meeting, made only worse by
Krebbekar’s rather well-developed story telling ability.  After a long evening
of talk and ale, which was the only way Lord Krall could deal with his whelp’s
shortcomings this time, Lord Krall decided to not exile his wayward youngest
son, but instead gave him the task of personally cleaning up the mess of ash
and soot the actions of ‘his dragon’ had left all over the place, starting with
the Great Hall on the Lake. 

For
failing to keep Morigar from his own follies, Krebbekar was given the task of
personally watching Morigar and making sure he did a good job.  This was truly
the beginning of a new phase in their relationship.

The
day after the coronation, as if nature itself had decided to join in the days
of mourning Lord Kale had proclaimed, one of the heaviest rains in memory fell
on the southern valley, dousing the entire valley, swelling streams, flooding
some of the lower meadows, and washing away thousands of scattered ant warrior
bodies. 

The
ants breathed through holes near the joints of their legs, which made them
unable to go through all but the most shallow of water, and so none of them had
been able to take shelter in the various ponds, lakes, and rivers that ran
through the valley.  Thousands of them that hadn’t died in the battle had mostly
been burned in the fire, though for some time afterwards patrols from the two
gens would find small groups of the creatures scavenging about their valley and
the surrounding valleys, feral and uncoordinated without their queen to guide
them.

When
the Krall warriors did finally depart the home of the Kale Gen, the march
across the valley was slow and ponderous.  Everywhere along the route blasted
and burned trees had fallen across the trail, and every pond and spring along
the way was covered with a thick film of ashes, leaving them without water
until they reached the Great River near the borders of their land.

The
bridge across the river had burned in the conflagration, leaving only stumps
buried in the riverbed.  But ingeniously enough, the Krall contingent rolled
tree trunks that were mostly intact out into the Great River which piled up
against the pylons and formed something of a temporary bridge which they could
cross.

Upon
arriving at their home, the members of the Border Guard, most of whom were pig
farmers, sheep herders, and such as lived in the outer regions of the forest,
were dismayed at the damage.  The fire had not only consumed the outermost ring
of walkways in the trees on the perimeter of their forest, but had raged
through the undergrowth to consume many of their homes and part of the inner
ring of walkways, leaving much destruction in its wake. 

Fortunately
for them, however, the hundred warriors Lord Krall had sent back from their
contingent had seen the danger coming and had evacuated their families and such
animals as they could from the forest floor back to Lord Krall’s Hall on the
lake.  Still, roast pig and mutton was all that anyone ate for those first few
days as families were reunited, the thick layer of ash began to be removed, and
homes began to be rebuilt under the boughs of the great trees of Lord Krall’s Forest.

 

 

The
Day of Joining for the five couples had finally come, and for Kiria and the
rest it had been an interminable wait.  First there had been the days of mourning,
during which Ardan had fetched his lifemate to be and Myaliae had fetched her
family as well, and then it had been another two days just to find the flowers
that tradition dictated for such a momentous occasion.  But find them their
males had, just as tradition dictated. 

BOOK: The Game of Fates
8.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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