“They are true,” Garnuk interrupted without hesitation.
“ – then he is a dangerous warrior.”
“The most dangerous,” Garnuk agreed. “The finest fighter to walk the Fells. Not a good hunter or comrade, but a brutal warrior of immense strength, speed, and skill. I remember him from the old days. He was the one I sent to lead our rams over the walls of Tamor, just before the slaughter at the Gorge.”
“If he is all I have heard,” Danur said slowly. “Then why is he being used as little more than a messenger? Surely such errands are beneath one of his station?”
“They are,” Garnuk agreed. “They are far beneath him. He is a fighter.”
“He is not staying away long enough to conduct raids,” Danur observed. “Nor is he the type to gather intelligence or assist with the planning of a war.”
“He must be on some sort of assignment,” Garnuk guessed. “Something extremely important.”
“Should I have the spies follow him?” Danur asked, looking up from the report.
Garnuk considered this for several long moments. “No,” he said at last. “Keep your spies where they are. Tell them to keep recording Arasnak’s movements. I want a full report when I arrive.”
“General?”
Garnuk stood and leaned against the mantle, staring into the cold ashes of an old fire. “The butcher would not leave Dun Carryl except for something of great importance to the Ramshuk. We need to know what that is. And the most likely path to success is for me to take some of our reserves and go after him. It will take a few days to get things in order here, but after that I will go to hunt Arasnak.”
“What will you do when you find him?”
Garnuk shrugged. “We will see. Eliminating the butcher would hurt the Usurper, certainly. But I am more interested in whatever mission Arasnak has been given. Only once I have that information can the butcher be eliminated.”
“But if Arasnak is as skilled as you say, will you have any chance of killing him?”
“If I did not go,” Garnuk replied grimly. “We would have no chance. If I sent someone else, he would kill them or torture them for information, in a rare moment of intelligence. But If I go . . . we have a small chance of success.”
“Is that all?” Danur asked worriedly. “A small chance?”
Garnuk grimaced and turned towards the door, already thinking through the preparations he would have to make. “More like a fool’s chance,” he admitted.
Chapter 14:
Omens in the Smoke
It took three days to arrange things so that Garnuk could comfortably leave to investigate reports of the butcher. During that time, messages continued to flood in from across the Fells, detailing soldier movements on both sides, theories, hunches, and guesses. Koah and Tarq were up to their horns in parchment, often recruiting the small garrison at the Shadow Squadron headquarters to see to some of the simpler tasks.
As a result, the once quiet and orderly command room was a confused whirlwind of activity. To the casual observer, it would appear that events were spiraling out of control, and that Garnuk’s efforts to control the balance of the war were in vain. But Garnuk was able to look past the chaos and see that Shadow Squadron was thriving.
During those three days, several of the reports that came in validated predictions and guesses Garnuk or his captains had made earlier in the week. Despite the sheer volume of information, they were succeeding in sifting through it and recognizing the Usurper’s plan. And through it all, Tarq and Koah were becoming stronger and smarter leaders, expanding their minds and learning to think critically.
When Garnuk announced his departure and placed them in joint command, the only complaining they did was to protest staying behind while he went off to hunt the butcher. Such a task was dangerous after all, and the Exile would need his best warriors to assist him.
It was at this point, that Garnuk reminded them pointedly that he was not planning to engage the butcher unless absolutely necessary. There was also the small matter of keeping up with the events of the war while he was gone, and that was a problem that only Koah and Tarq could solve. They were the only ones he trusted, besides Danur, to stay on top of things and not do anything foolish in the meantime.
As for Danur, he would continue operating the spy camps in the Fells. But he would deliver his reports to Koah and Tarq until Garnuk returned. The camp near Dun Carryl had been notified Garnuk was on the way via a coded message, carefully crafted so that if it were intercepted the Usurper would be none the wiser. Nor would his Black Hawks, who had all but disappeared since they had nearly found Banta Kodu.
On the fourth day, Garnuk rose early and ate a quick breakfast before slinging his pack over one shoulder and buckling on his sword belt. His shield went over his left shoulder, ready to be shifted at a moment’s notice to protect his left side. Armed for the journey ahead, he made his way to the command room, where two similarly equipped vertaga were waiting for him, Lun and Vars. Both were large, capable, and possessed a reasonable amount of common sense. They would obey his orders without question and fight to the last if he commanded. Exactly the sort of warriors Garnuk needed for this mission.
Koah and Tarq were also there, having risen even earlier to start another long day of tracking the war. They were standing around the central table, leaning over the map and debating something in low voices. They stopped as Garnuk walked past and straightened, saluting him by crossing their arms over their chests.
“Good luck, general,” Koah growled. “May the spirits go with you in your quest.”
“Be careful,” Tarq added. “Shadow Squadron needs its leader.”
Garnuk nodded solemnly. “Thank you, my captains. I can only leave because I trust that you can cope. Do not disappoint me. And be careful yourselves. These are dangerous and unpredictable times. If difficult situations arise, rely on your intellect, and on Danur if you need another opinion. Between the three of you, I believe you will be able to manage things in my absence.”
“Your faith in us is not misplaced, general,” Koah promised, eyes alight with his old fervor. “You will not be disappointed on your return.”
Garnuk smiled grimly to himself. Such confidence. What his captains did not realize was there was every chance he would not return. The butcher was not an enemy to be taken lightly, and Garnuk was planning to follow him to his lair, wherever in the Fells that may be.
The Exile shifted his pack a little on his back, then nodded curtly to his captains. “Keep to the shadows,” he reminded them. “A small group can accomplish by stealth what many cannot by force.”
His captains inclined their heads gravely, then Garnuk turned towards the exit corridor. Lun and Vars hefted their packs as well and followed him out.
Garnuk opened the outer door, stepping over the spiked threshold without a second thought. It was a habit by now, something he was accustomed to. He wondered if it would stick with him the rest of his life, even around thresholds that did not contain spikes.
The three vertaga moved purposefully, but not quickly. Moving too fast would garner unwanted attention, just as ambling mindlessly through the crowded corridors would. The best course of action was to blend with the flow, and avoid sticking out.
It wasn’t that Garnuk didn’t trust the Banuk. He just wanted to keep as much secret as he could right now. The fewer individuals who knew his whereabouts the better. But there was one he thought he should notify, if only to build trust between the two of them.
Garnuk led Lun and Vars around the gallery and down to the lowest level. Then they moved out towards the entrance hall and Chief Carh’s council chamber. The doors to the chamber were shut, and guarded by six soldiers.
The Exile stepped up to the leader of the guards and inclined his head. “I would like to speak to Chief Carh,” he murmured. “If he is available, of course.”
The warrior inspected Garnuk critically. “And just who are you?” he demanded.
Garnuk smiled thinly a
nd beckoned the warrior closer. Suspiciously, the vertag leaned forward, keeping a ready hand on his halberd.
“I am no one to be trifled with,” Garnuk whispered.
The warrior felt a sharp prickling sensation at his side and realized that Garnuk was poking him lightly with his dagger, hidden from the view of the other soldiers.
“Chief Carh knows me,” Garnuk continued. “If you must have a name to announce me by, tell him that Koah’s guest has returned to speak with him again.”
The vertag nodded imperceptibly and the prickling sensation vanished as Garnuk hid the dagger again and stepped back.
“Wait here,” the warrior growled to his fellow guards. “I will announce the visitor.”
The guards looked at each other uncertainly, then went back to standing mutely at attention, though they regarded Garnuk with new interest. Clearly he was important, to have convinced their leader so easily.
The captain of the guard meanwhile went into the council chamber, opening the door no wider than was necessary to let himself in. Garnuk waited patiently while he was gone, knowing that the guard would have to walk all the way to the fire ring and all the way back after discussing matters with Carh.
A few minutes later, the guard finally returned, nodding to Garnuk. “Chief Carh will see you now,” he announced. “Though he is in council with the elders.”
Garnuk swore quietly to himself. He had no desire to air his business to the Banuk elders. Elders were the same in every tribe, wise, aloof, and infuriatingly full of themselves. Sometimes, they interpreted their visions incorrectly or manipulated events to suit their own ideas and opinions. They were the worst kind of shaman, superstitious enough to believe in their mutterings and spirit magic, but grounded enough to see opportunities to impose their will on the world.
“I’ll just leave him a message then,” Garnuk replied, already composing one in his head.
The other vertag shook his head. “The chief insists that you attend him,” he replied. “He sees this as a most fortuitous opportunity.”
“I’m sure he does,” Garnuk muttered to himself. “Unfortunately, I am in a hurry – ”
“I have been instructed to bring you by force if necessary,” the guard continued.
Garnuk sighed heavily. “And I suppose my own warriors stay here?”
“Obviously.”
Garnuk shrugged and started towards the door. “Fine, let’s get on with it.”
But the two nearest guards sprang into action, crossing their halberds over the entrance. The others shuffled forward, menacing Garnuk with sharp spearheads.
The guard captain bared his teeth and chuckled quietly. “Your weapons stay too.”
The Exile silently unbuckled his weapons, passing them to Lun before any of the guards could take them. “Keep an eye on those,” he said airily, turning back to face the guards. “I’ll want them back when I’m finished.”
“Yes, general.”
The guards’ eyes widened slightly and their captain hesitated, taking a half pace backwards. Garnuk shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.
“You still don’t know who you are dealing with, do you?” he asked quietly.
The guard captain turned abruptly and pushed through the crossed halberds and into the council chamber. Garnuk followed, glaring at the guards as he passed.
The council chamber was dim, lit only by the crackling fire at its center. Smoke hung in the air, mingled with another scent. Garnuk did not recognize it, but he guessed it was the smell of an herb or plant the elders had burned in an attempt to divine the future or the will of the spirits. It seemed vertaga elders were always doing that sort of fruitless, nonsensical thing.
Garnuk followed the guard captain to the center of the chamber, where Chief Carh waited upon his seat of power. Around the fire ring, six other vertaga sat in chairs of their own, gazing into the flames with strange, distant expressions. They hardly registered Garnuk’s approach. When he came to a stop before them though, they looked up as one.
Garnuk did not know any of these vertaga. That was not a surprise, since they were surely all of the Banuk tribe. But they seemed to know him somehow, for they began to mutter among themselves. Garnuk and his escort stood uncertainly at the base of the dais, waiting for instructions.
“Captain Grak, leave us,” Chief Carh said finally, his eyes fixed on Garnuk. Thankfully, Garnuk noted that the Banuk chieftain’s hands were nowhere near the massive war club leaning next to his chair.
Grak left, casting many backward glances at Garnuk as he did so. When the outer door had swung closed once more, Carh beckoned Garnuk closer.
“Join us, Exile. Take your place at our fire.”
Garnuk inclined his head respectfully and made his way to an empty chair. He sat comfortably but upright, his feet planted firmly on the stone dais.
Carh said nothing for a long moment, merely looked around the circle of elders, watching their faces, gauging their reactions to this guest. “Well elders of the Banuk?” he asked. “Is this vertag the one you sought?”
“Perhaps,” an elder allowed, peering at Garnuk. “There is power in him.”
“And strength,” another added. “Leadership. The ability to command.”
“Such qualities are to be expected of a former Ramshuk,” Garnuk pointed out. Two of the elders blinked in surprise, as though this had not occurred to them. Carh himself bared his teeth briefly in a satisfied smile.
“Why did you wish to see me?” Garnuk asked bluntly, ignoring the elders and staring at Carh.
“If I am not mistaken, you came to see me,” Carh pointed out.
Garnuk shrugged. “To check in with you on matters, really. I’m heading out for a few days and I don’t know when I will be back.”
“Oh?” Carh asked, leaning forward. “Has something come up?”
“Just a small matter,” Garnuk replied easily. “Nothing to be worried about.”
“Then why go yourself?”
Garnuk shrugged uneasily. “It’s been a while,” he ventured. But even as the words left his mouth he knew that Carh would see past such a flimsy excuse.
“Perhaps discussing other matters will bring to light what the Exile is trying to hide,” one of the elders suggested.
“What other matters?” Garnuk asked quickly.
“Dark things are stirring,” another elder intoned solemnly. “Omens and portents of trials and despair.”
“By which you mean smoke wreaths and guesses,” Garnuk replied contemptuously.
The elders scowled at Garnuk now, their aloofness disappearing in an instant. Carh bared his teeth in a quick smile, then composed himself.
“So,” Garnuk continued, seizing the initiative. “What dark events have you foreseen?”
“War,” the elder at Carh’s right hand replied. “Death and destruction.”
“A shadow at the center of it all,” another elder added. “And around it, other, smaller shadows. Darting and weaving, interacting with each other. Occasionally other figures darted in and out, but they never stayed long. But the figure at the center was constant throughout.”
“Fascinating,” Garnuk replied.
“There was something else,” another elder added. “One of the smaller shadows seemed to be surrounded by demons of some sort, alternately chasing them and being hounded by them. We could not discern a meaning from it.”
“Not surprising,” Garnuk muttered. “Since there is probably no meaning to be had in the first place.”
“It’s still an interesting picture they paint, Garnuk,” Carh mused. “A shadowy figure at the center, apparently controlling all things. That was your eventual goal when you first came here, was it not?”
“It was,” Garnuk said, half smiling. “But my influence has not yet stretched that far. Controlling the world without being noticed is harder than I expected.”
“But the shadow could be you,” the elder to Carh’s right argued. “Your future, perhaps. Or you are lying
to us and you have already become the center of this war.”
“Either way, there is grave danger in allowing you to continue on your present course,” the elder at Carh’s left interjected. “The future holds death and destruction for our people if it is not changed.”
“Have you considered that it could be the Usurper who you see in your visions?” Garnuk asked. “He started this war after all.”
The elders considered this, looking at each other and then staring into the fire, their expressions growing vacant and distant. “The Ramshuk is not involved in this matter,” one said at last. “I do not sense his hand meddling in the uncertain paths of future days.”
“How?” Garnuk spat. “He is waging a war on the Sthan. He is affecting every path.”
“Perhaps,” Carh said, stepping in, “We should let events unfold for the time being.”
The elders scowled. “That may not be wise, great chief,” one warned. “If the Exile is indeed the dangerous presence in our visions that we fear he is – ”
“You have no proof,” Carh snapped. “And Garnuk has acted in good faith until now. I see no point in restricting his movement or bringing him under closer watch at this point.”
“He poses a threat to the Banuk!” one of the elders growled. “If he is allowed to leave this sacred valley, then we risk exposing our entire tribe, and falling victim to the same ill fate as the rest of the vertaga race.”
“Enough,” Carh interjected, cutting the elder off. “Garnuk, I assume your mission is time sensitive?”
“Extremely.”
“Then I will not waste any more of your time. As far as I am concerned, this council is adjourned.”
Garnuk got to his feet slowly, looking around at the elders. “I do not know what you have seen,” he said, “But I doubt there is anything to these visions. If your purpose here is to keep me from saving all vertaga, then carry on with convincing Chief Carh to imprison me. If you would like to see our race survive this war, I suggest you cease your prattling and move on.”
The Ramshuk (Heirs of Legacy Book 3) Page 14