The Trials of Caste (10 page)

As he lay in his cot, Durik’s mind turned again to
the vision he’d seen and pondered the meaning of it.  Was it just some dream? 
Yet the emotions were so strong, and the vision so real!  Had he really seen
his chief elite warrior throwing a body into a chasm?  That was crazy... and
yet he could not deny that he had seen it.  He knew that his life was about to
change dramatically with the coming trials, and yet this vision had brought
with it a feeling like no other he’d felt before. 

Like footprints in the sands of his soul, the
hints and marks of what was to come seemed to fade with each passing wave of
thought and doubt.  Soon all that remained of the vision as he dropped off to
sleep was a lingering sense of destiny.

“But how can I betray my lord?” Krobo lamented to
the two kobolds seated near him in the large, empty cavern where he and Jezmya
had often stolen away.  His head in his hands, he was still stunned at what
Trelkar had asked of him.

“Did he say what the potion would do?” Jezmya
tried to calm her future lifemate by stroking the back of his neck.

Krobo sat up, “‘Put them into a deep sleep’, he
said.”  He spat in the sand.  “How can I trust him?  And besides, why would he
want Lady Kiri’s old magic books anyway?  The power is long gone from them.  It
died with her.  And what would he do with the power if he could bring it back?”

Seated not far from them, Spider’s ears perked
up.  What was this about power?

“He said that he’s close enough to the Kale
bloodline.  Maybe that’s why the old powers died, because the bloodline died,”
Jezmya speculated.  “Maybe he can bring it back.”

Krobo shook his head.  “In the vaults of the Lore
Master it speaks of a time when there were several who held this power, and
only a couple of them were in the lord of the gen’s bloodline.  This covenant
magic, as they call it in the oldest of scrolls, was mostly lost when the last
Lord Kobold led many of our warriors north into the Great Forest against some
orc threat or another.  That was probably four hundred years ago now.”

Jezmya smiled.  “You speak like a scholar, my
love.”

Krobo sighed.  “I just don’t know what to do.  Trelkar
said he would not allow us to be joined unless I put the potion in the
household stew so he can go ‘reclaim the books of magic,’ as he says.  Knock
them out or not, it smacks of treason.  I even offered to just get the books
for him, but he wouldn’t have it.  I wonder what Khee-lar Shadow Hand thinks of
all this?” he shook his head.  “And what if someone does die?  The Honor
Guard’s broadswords would have my head off for that!”

“But without my chief’s permission, we cannot be
joined.  The law wouldn’t allow it.”  Jezmya looked longingly at her love.

The two of them sat in silence for several moments
before Jezmya spoke again.

“Perhaps his claim to the books of magic is
stronger than Lord Karthan’s,” Jezmya offered.  “After all, he and his master Khee-lar
Shadow Hand are both direct descendents of the last Lord Kale’s nephew, just
like the late Lady Kiri.  She was sister to Khee-lar Shadow Hand after all.  Maybe
they should have belonged to him all along.”

Krobo thought for a moment, sighed, then thought
for a moment more.  “Maybe so.”

“What does your heart tell you?” Jezmya asked.

Krobo thought for a moment.  “My heart tells me I
want you for my lifemate.”

“As does mine.”  Jezmya smiled.

“Maybe that’s the answer, then.”  Krobo looked
down at his feet, resigning himself to whatever was to come, yet waiting for
Jezmya’s answer.  She didn’t answer and the silence dragged on.

“I wish there was another way to work this out,” Krobo
groaned.  “We never should have promised not to tell anyone.  The old Lore
Master would know what to make of this.  Or maybe we could have gotten Khee-lar
Shadow Hand to overrule Trelkar.  Does Khee-lar know what Trelkar is planning?”
Krobo asked in frustration.

“Or at least you should have waited until after
you knew what he was asking,” Spider finally muttered behind a wicked smile he
had recently acquired.  His entrance into their deliberations was as abrupt as
a sudden splash of cold water.

“Son, what’s come over you?” Jezmya asked, a
worried look on her face.

“I thought you wanted to see me smile,” Spider
sneered, the mask of frustration he had worn for so long had given way to
long-suppressed feelings of raw hatred.  The look in his eyes deeply worried
his mother.

Krobo could see the transformation as well, but
didn’t know quite what to make of it.  “What did Khee-lar Shadow Hand ask you
about in the other room, Spider?”

Spider sat back, his perennial crouch finally
giving way to a relaxed seated position.  It was as if whatever weight he’d
been carrying was gone and he was content.  At the same time, the look in his
eyes showed that he had reached a darker, more evil place than Krobo had
realized.  Seated next to Krobo, Jezmya still had a mother’s blind eyes to the
depths of her son’s true state.

“Nothing,” Spider answered, his snout upturned in
a deliberately condescending manner.  “Let’s just say that he recognizes my
talents.”

“You look too happy for that!” Krobo said
accusingly.  “Spider, if he asked you to do something you shouldn’t, don’t do
it.”

Spider laughed, a bitter, evil laugh, and shook
his head.  “Listen to yourself.  Just now you’ve decided to help Trelkar steal
something.  And you tell me not to do something I shouldn’t?”

Krobo was taken aback at the painful truth of the
statement.

“Son,” Jezmya said, “what did he ask you to do? 
What did he promise you?”

Spider grabbed the long handled club he used as a
cane and stood up.  “I’ve had enough of your constant prying.  There’s space at
Trelkar’s house for me now.  If you’re looking for me, don’t bother.”

Jezmya’s face fell.  Despair began to grip her
heart for the tender little one she once knew, and the twisted adult he had somehow
become.

“Spider!” Krobo commanded.  “What did he offer
you?”

Turning back around, Spider looked the old, sorry
servant caste in the eyes.  “Let’s just say he offered me the first vision of what
I can become.  And I like what I see.”

Both Krobo and Jezmya looked on in stunned silence
as Spider walked out of the room.  Neither of them understood the
transformation that had come over the youth they had thought they could save.

“I agree with Kort!  Let’s strike now!” Troll’s
voice thundered uncomfortably loud for what was customary in these most secret
and exclusive of meetings; even his own small group of elite warriors from the
Wolf Riders were surprised.  Standing among elite warriors from the Deep Guard and
Patrol Guard on the other side of the small chamber, Mynar the Sorcerer smiled
a demure smile.

“Kort,” the kobold seated on the high seat
interrupted the murmurs of agreement.  Khee-lar Shadow Hand’s face was devoid
of reaction, something that left those who knew him rather uncomfortable.  Standing
next to him, Trelkar’s sharp eyes and absolute confidence showed clearly that
he was the power behind Khee-lar.  “While I appreciate your enthusiasm,”
Khee-lar continued as the murmurs subsided, “I do not want all our plans to go
to waste, due to one rash move.”

Kort, sub-chief to the Chief Elite Warrior of the
Patrol Guard, had been startled by Troll’s vehement support, but he was more
surprised by Khee-lar Shadow Hand’s reluctance to act.  There were many veteran
elite warriors in the room, each of whom led a handful of warriors.  Surely
they were more than enough to strike down Lord Karthan and any who stood in his
defense.  Kort himself had brought nearly half of them!  Surely there couldn’t
be that many, outside of the Honor Guard, who would come to Lord Karthan’s aid.

“Sire,” Kort said, and all eyes returned to him. 
There was a passion in his eyes, but he was very aware of his lord’s demeanor,
and of Trelkar’s stern glare.  “I will do whatever you ask, but may I know what
piece has yet to fall into place before we can activate the Covenant and wrest
control of this gen from that usurper Karthan and his minions?”  Murmurs of
agreement and support echoed from the assembled elite warriors.

Khee-lar Shadow Hand cleared his voice and Kort’s
next question died in his throat.  “I would move now, but some who are here
today have yet to join the Covenant,” he said, looking over at the leader of
the Wolf Riders and the chief elite warriors of the Trade and the Metal
Smithies Warrior Groups who had sat silently among the group to this point.  “Without
your support, my friends, our plans cannot succeed.”

An awkward moment passed as the three warrior
leaders from three of the Kale Gen’s six warrior groups sat looking at each
other.  Finally, Raoros Fang, leader caste of the Wolf Riders Warrior Group,
broke the silence.

“Khee-lar,” the large warrior spoke with no sign
of deference in his voice, “Troll may be my chief elite warrior, but in this
matter he speaks for only himself, and perhaps for the few elite warriors who
are with him from my group.  I will not stand in your way, but neither am I
ready to swear the swords of my warriors to you or this Covenant organization
you’ve made. 
If
you obtain the Kale Stone, and
if
you prove able
to wield its power, then I will gladly call you lord.  Until then, I have taken
your oath of secrecy.  Is that not enough for you?”  This last was more a
statement than a question.

The chief elite warriors from the Trade Warrior
Group and the Metalsmithies Warrior Group nodded their agreement as Raoros Fang
sat.  Trelkar looked flatly at the trio.

After a moment, Khee-lar Shadow Hand smiled a
strained smile and turned to face Kort.  “Well, Kort, that would be why we
cannot strike yet.  By my count we have only the Deep Guard leaders.  While I
am confident in your ability to deliver the Patrol Guard for us when the time
comes, and we all know that Lord Karthan’s Honor Guard must not be approached
to join the Covenant, without the support of these three groups,” he said,
indicating Raoros and the two chief elite warriors seated with him, “we cannot
move forward.”

Kort felt acutely the lack of confidence echoing
in Khee-lar’s words.  “Sire, the heritage of your bloodline in this gen is
worth more than Karthan and all who support him.  Soon the winds of the Fates
will sweep away even their memory.”

“Well spoken.  Soon my bloodline will take back
what was entrusted for a time to lesser kobolds, but has always been my blood
right,” Khee-lar said as he stood, indicating that the meeting was at an end. 
“My brothers, soon the day will come when the Kale Stone will return to its
gen, and to me, its rightful heir.  And when that day comes,” he said,
deliberately not looking at the three who had yet to covenant, “I shall unify
the gen under my rule, and those who stand with me shall see the rewards of
their loyalty.  This I covenant!”

“Aye!” the word resonated throughout the chamber
as those present stood and began filing out of the chamber deep in the training
caves of the Deep Guard’s area.  Troll looked on impatiently as the small knot
of leader caste, functional leaders that Khee-lar had wanted in the covenant,
began to slowly file out.  They brought no swords to the cause and Troll didn’t
know why Khee-lar had bothered.  Standing next to him, his own small group of
elite warriors from the Wolf Riders Warrior Group looked at him as if to ask if
they should stay or go.  Giving a gesture toward the door, Troll let them know
they were dismissed.

With a look from Trelkar, a few other key kobolds
waited patiently for the rest to depart.  Finally, as the last of the elite
warriors from the Patrol Guard left, and only a handful of conspirators remained,
Trelkar silently closed the door and turned to face his master.

“Where is this stone?” Troll asked impatiently.

“Mynar has yet to deliver the Kale Stone,” Trelkar
said accusingly.