The Ramshuk (Heirs of Legacy Book 3)

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The Ramshuk (Heirs of Legacy Book 3) Page 8

by Paul Lauritsen


  Koah led them into the corridor. Doors marched down the walls to either side at regular intervals. What lay behind them Garnuk did not know, and Koah did not try to explain as they went. Instead of wondering at what secret treasures might be hidden there, Garnuk focused on the craftsmanship of the place.

  The corridor was smooth stone, the floors unblemished, the walls free from cracks, bumps, or lumps. The ceiling was a perfect half circle, flowing beautifully into the walls. And where the walls met the floor, the two surfaces were at perfect right angles. The passage itself was straight as an arrow, its course constant and unwavering.

  The doors to the left and right had no handles or other mechanisms for opening that Garnuk could see. Not from this side anyway. In fact, he couldn’t even be sure that they were all doors, based on the original entrance to the lair of the Guardian Shadows. For all he knew the rectangular frames, engraved with the pine bark motif that was prevalent in the rest of the city, were little more than decorative work with no purpose whatsoever other than to trick passersby.

  Between the doors hung lanterns of an old design, teardrop shaped and dangling from rings set into the wall itself. Their flames were extinguished, their wicks crumbled to nothing. But the metalwork and glass were in perfect condition, ready to give light to this ancient dwelling once more.

  After walking past no less than seventeen lanterns, the small group emerged into a circular room. The moment Garnuk entered the space, he felt something stirring inside. This room he understood. It was a command center, the nexus for all of the Guardians’ activities.

  A massive stone table centered the room. No chairs surrounded it though. This table would not have been for sitting meetings. It would have been for devising strategies, analyzing patterns and positions, and deploying forces to combat any threats. Around the table there was a ring of empty space ten feet across, plenty of space to walk or stand. At the outside of this ring, stood another ring of stone. It took Garnuk a moment to divine its purpose. Then, he noticed the low flat surface extruded from the upright portion about halfway up, how the ring was divided into sections around its length. These were desks of an ancient make, places for roughly two dozen vertaga to sit and work. Analyzing, perhaps. Or reading the hundreds of reports that would be necessary to fuel such a large intelligence operation.

  Now though, every surface was barren, covered only with a thin layer of dust. Garnuk stepped through a gap in the ring of desks and leaned against the table, staring down at it thoughtfully.

  “We’ll need maps,” he said at last. “Lots of maps. Of the Fells, the surrounding lands, the whole world if we have them.”

  “You are in luck,” Koah told him. “The Banuk tribe has the most comprehensive records of any gathering of vertaga.”

  “Comes from being the oldest and best preserved I suppose,” Tarq murmured, moving up behind Garnuk. “What do you think, general?”

  Garnuk smiled wryly and turned to look back at Koah. “I think our hosts have outdone themselves. This base of operations will serve us very well.” He looked around the central chamber again, taking in the functional simplicity of the place. The Guardian Shadows had been a pragmatic lot it seemed. There was no ornamentation on anything, no ornate carvings save around two doorways. One was the entrance they had just come through. The other revealed another corridor, running perpendicular to the back wall.

  “What is back there?” he asked Koah, starting forward.

  “Careful!” Koah said sharply.

  Garnuk froze and looked back, head cocked to one side curiously.

  “Best let me lead,” the Sentinel explained. “There are still more traps that I have not yet shown you. For instance, do not stand directly on any threshold.”

  “Oh?”

  Koah took a heavy spear from one of his soldiers and moved towards the far door. “Watch,” he said, extending the haft of the spear towards the floor.

  The threshold was a flat plate, some twenty centimeters across. The moment Koah’s spear touched it, the plate sank, revealing a row of thick spikes, gleaming despite the fact that they likely had not seen the light of day in years.

  “Not lethal,” Garnuk observed.

  “But painful,” Koah replied, shrugging. “Very, very painful from what I hear. Not all the traps in this place are designed to kill. Many are designed to wound, to distract. To weaken.” He glanced up at Garnuk. “After all, an enemy does not have to be dead to be taken out of a fight.”

  “And a wounded ram is easier to finish,” Garnuk agreed, nodding slowly. “You think well for a soldier, Koah.”

  Koah shrugged. “I have devoted my life to the Sentinels,” he explained, glancing at his warriors. “My soldiers know that. They will tell you as much. But I always admired the Guardian Shadows even more. They were the first version of our humble force. The elite protectors of the Banuk.

  “I have spent years learning their secrets, exploring their passages, striving to match their cunning and expertise,” he continued, stepping across the threshold. “It has cost me, sometimes. I have lost friends and fellow soldiers to the traps within these walls, and suffered numerous wounds of my own.” He dipped his head slightly, almost reverently. “The Guardian Shadows were true protectors, a law unto themselves. They did what had to be done. What they believed in, even if no one else was prepared to do the same.”

  Garnuk smiled. “It is well that you were placed under my command then, Koah. I have need of warriors with your unique skill set. And your brains. Our mission is unusual, and some would balk at it like those who grew fearful of the old Guardian Shadows. But together, we will build something even greater. Something which will change the very course of history.”

  Koah nodded, ducking his horned head appreciatively. “Thank you, general.”

  “The return of the Guardians is at hand,” Garnuk announced to the room at large. “But we are different than those founders. We do not aim solely to preserve, but also to restore. What’s more, we will accomplish our mission with less in the way of resources, with a small elite force of the most devoted warriors. If we are successful, we shall surpass all that the original order once accomplished, and usher in a new age for the vertaga.”

  Koah looked up, eyes gleaming with anticipation, hanging on the Exile’s every word. Garnuk smiled to himself, then turned his attention to the larger group.

  “Today,” Garnuk proclaimed, inclining his head and holding his clawed hands out to the side, his gaze sweeping over the rams standing before him. “The Shadow Squadron is born. As your general, I name you all Shadows. And I give you your captains, Koah and Tarq.”

  The vertaga warriors dipped their horned heads and crossed their arms over their chests briefly, then threw back their heads and roared triumphantly. Koah, standing in front of Garnuk, snarled fiercely and threw his head back as well. But Garnuk was watching Tarq, standing a little to one side, without appearing to. The other vertag seemed less than pleased that he was no longer Garnuk’s sole second. The unconcerned mask he had maintained throughout their foray into the Banuk homeland was gone. In its place he wore an expression of intense disgust and anger. A wounded look of betrayal which gave the Exile pause.

  He will bear watching, Garnuk thought to himself. He could not afford to have his small force divided. But for the moment, he pushed the matter aside.

  “Now,” he said, gesturing to the corridor. “Let us explore our new home.”

  Chapter 9:

  The Gathering Begins

  The back corridor led to the quarters of the Guardians, as it turned out. Seventeen doors branched off of the hallway, which curved to follow the outside of the command center. In that, it mirrored the gallery behind the Banuk chief’s council chamber. But instead of many levels and hundreds of vertaga, this space was designed to house only a hundred or so on a single, efficient level.

  Thirteen of the doors led to long rooms with four beds down either side. Each had an adjoining washroom and several storage chambers. There
were no traps here for, as Koah explained, if an enemy penetrated all the way to the living quarters the fight was lost anyways.

  The other four doors led to individual rooms, the dwellings of senior officers. These were at the extreme ends of the corridor, furthest from the noise and confusion of the command center. Garnuk took the left most, assigning Tarq and Koah the rooms at the far-right end of the corridor. The Sentinels who now made up Shadow Squadron split up between two of the bunkrooms.

  Garnuk was well pleased with his quarters. There was a room for sleeping, with a comfortable mattress and blankets Koah’s men had fetched. There was also a room for sitting and meeting, with two comfortable chairs and a large fireplace. Beside the fireplace stood a pile of firewood, also courtesy of Shadow Squadron. Adjoining the bedroom was a small privy chamber. Altogether, the dwelling was rather spartan compared to the lavish accoutrements of similar places in Dun Carryl. But the simplicity and efficiency of the place appealed to Garnuk.

  Almost as soon as his rooms were set to rights, Garnuk lay down and fell asleep. It had been a long day, and he was exhausted. He woke many hours later, unsure of exactly what time it was, but knowing he was rested and refreshed and ready for a new day. Or night, if he had slept that long.

  He built a small fire in the fireplace for his amusement, toying with the flickering flames and teasing them onto small branches that he turned this way and that, noting how the fire shifted and danced as he did. Fire was an enigma to him. Largely unpredictable, and potentially harmful, and yet so pleasantly warm and pleasing to look at.

  A knock came at the door. Garnuk flicked his burning branch into the fire, scowling as he realized that his fun was over for now. “Come,” he called irritably.

  The door opened and Tarq entered, looking around curiously. He spotted Garnuk after a moment, and closed the door behind him. He then crossed the room swiftly to stand at the Exile’s side.

  “General,” he said quietly. “I did not mean to disturb you, but I need to speak with you.”

  “You are already doing that I believe,” Garnuk said, chuckling quietly to himself.

  “Well, yes,” Tarq agreed. “Anyway, I have some . . . concerns I wanted to bring to your attention.”

  “Proceed,” Garnuk said, gazing into the flames. He spoke the word dispassionately, providing neither positive nor negative feedback to his captain.

  “First, I worry about Koah being a captain of your forces,” Tarq said bluntly.

  Right to the point, Garnuk thought privately. He had always liked that about Tarq. No beating around the brush or prevaricating. Just a quick, powerful attack.

  “Oh?” Garnuk asked, allowing a hint of surprise to color his tone.

  “Yes,” Tarq said. “We do not know these Banuk rams, general. Until late yesterday, there was every chance they would kill us on sight. And even though we have a truce with them for now, our agendas are not perfectly aligned. There will come a time when our priorities do not coincide and we will be at odds with them.”

  “Possibly,” Garnuk agreed. The thought had occurred to him multiple times. But he was confident he could placate the Banuk if such a problem arose.

  “If such a thing were to happen,” Tarq continued, choosing his words carefully, “Having a Banuk captain could create a challenging situation for us.”

  Garnuk shrugged. “Perhaps.”

  “And then there is the matter of Koah himself,” Tarq continued. “He is ambitious, and too eager to bring back the Guardians as they once were. He – ”

  “Tell me, Tarq,” Garnuk said, turning to face his disgruntled captain. “What is it that you really have a problem with? Speak plainly, now.”

  Tarq met Garnuk’s gaze evenly, then looked away. “You made Koah a captain,” he said finally. “I was under the impression that I was your second.”

  “Are you not a captain as well?”

  “For now,” Tarq said, shrugging. “But elevating Koah to an equal position so soon . . . disturbs me. We have not even known him for a full day yet, general!”

  “Remember when you agreed to follow me?” Garnuk said. “I asked you to trust me.”

  “Yes, but-”

  “But nothing!” Garnuk snapped. “I have my reasons for making Koah a captain, is that not enough?”

  Tarq pursed his lips and lifted his chin belligerently. Garnuk met his hostile gaze for several moments, then Tarq looked away, sighing with frustration.

  “Apparently not,” Garnuk observed. “Very well, I will explain myself to you once more, Tarq. But I would prefer if you would learn to trust me every now and again. It will save both of us time and worry.”

  “Trust is one thing,” Tarq growled. “Blind obedience when your superior is ripping apart the natural order of things and making drastic and unpredictable moves – ”

  Garnuk gave a guttural laugh, shaking his horned head. “We are in a desperate cause, Tarq. Many of our moves will be drastic and unpredictable. Our plans will shift, suddenly and alarmingly at times. It is something that you will have to get used to if we are to succeed, captain.”

  Tarq frowned. “Why is Koah a captain, general?”

  Garnuk smiled slightly. “For the same reason you believe he should not be. He is Banuk, and it was the right move at that moment in time to make him a captain.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  The Exile nodded tolerantly. “Koah is a Banuk warrior, yes, but he aspires to something more. The Guardian Shadows, that ancient and impressive force of cunning rams. I have given him access to his dream, which is stamped upon his very soul. If he stays with me . . . stays loyal to me . . . then the dream is alive and well. If he were to turn against me, he would be extinguishing his own dream.”

  “To stay with his tribe,” Tarq pointed out. “How can you be sure he will not side with his people?”

  “This dream trumps all I believe,” Garnuk said. “Though much rides on that judgement. Hopefully, we will never find out. But I am confident I can keep Koah on our side, by showing him a path to the legacy and power he yearns for. And if it should come to hostilities between us and the Banuk, he would be an invaluable ally. Koah knows everything about his tribe, their ways, how they think. And, since he is a Sentinel, he knows how they hunt. He knows the land, how to hide in plain sight. And he is a good fighter, though not as good as us.”

  “Information,” Tarq murmured. “That’s what this is all about. Koah can lend you knowledge that right now you have no other way of gaining.”

  “Yes,” Garnuk agreed, nodding approvingly. “Information is the lifeblood of insurrections such as ours. It makes a powerful enemy vulnerable, an impenetrable stronghold penetrable. And a hopeless cause, winnable. Besides,” he added, “This is also about maintaining appearances and placating the rest of the Banuk tribe. By giving Koah a title and apparently making him one of my seconds, it appears that I have taken into confidence a member of the tribe. It will be viewed as an encouraging sign by the rest of the tribe, especially by Carh, who still distrusts us to a certain degree. Making our ambitious friend a captain now will further what little trust Carh and the rest of the Banuk have in us and give us more freedom of movement and agenda later.”

  Tarq nodded gravely. “Truly you are a master strategist, general.”

  “I try,” Garnuk agreed. “And often, I succeed.” He turned back to the flames. “Fetch Koah, will you? I have my first assignment for my captains and their soldiers.”

  The muscles around Tarq’s jaw twitched slightly as Garnuk mentioned his captains, but the vertag gave no other sign of frustration or anger. Garnuk took it as a good sign and began toying with the flames once more. Before Tarq left though, he stopped the other vertag.

  “There is something else you should know, Tarq,” he grunted. “Koah may be a captain, but this does not necessarily make him my second in command, or even one of my seconds. It only appears to do so.” He stopped toying with the fire and looked over at his old friend. “You are not technicall
y above him, but there are matters I will trust only to you, Tarq. You are my second, and you alone. Remember though, that appearances must be maintained.”

  The other vertag nodded slowly, then saluted. “Thank you, general,” he murmured. “My concerns have been more than dealt with. I will obey.”

  “Good,” Garnuk grunted. “Now, go and find Koah, but speak nothing of this meeting to anyone else.”

  Tarq left without another word, closing the outer door quietly behind him. He was back in less than a minute with Koah. The Banuk captain was wide awake and striding quickly, an eager expression on his rough features.

  “You wished to see us, general?”

  Garnuk nodded gravely. “Yes. Koah, Tarq. We must begin gathering our forces.”

  “Our forces?” Koah asked, confused.

  “The scattered exiles,” Garnuk explained. “Twenty or thirty vertaga who once served me well. And paid for it. They are highly trained and dangerous.”

  “You want us to capture them?” Koah asked nervously.

  “Better,” Garnuk replied, “I want you to recruit them.”

  Tarq nodded immediately. “It will be done.”

  Koah looked less certain, but he nodded as well. “Where do we look?” he asked.

  “Everywhere,” Garnuk grunted. “All over the Fells. These rams have stayed hidden for ten years. They will not easily be drawn out.”

  “What will you be doing, general?” Tarq asked.

  “I will stay here,” Garnuk replied. “And try to gather more rams as well. I will see if Chief Carh will grant me more warriors and scouts to send across the land.”

  “He may,” Koah allowed. “But tread carefully. Do not make too many demands of him or his good will towards our cause will almost certainly sour.”

  “I know,” Garnuk grunted. “Leave your best warrior with me, and your most influential one. Those two will do as bodyguards until you return.”

  “When do we return?”

  Garnuk glanced at Tarq, then looked up at the ceiling, calculating. “Three weeks,” he decided. “Be back on the first day of the third week from now.”

 

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