by Joel Babbitt
Though he had not even thought of them once this day, nor had he ever looked their direction, all of Trallik’s family was there in the stands. And after the treacherous way he had performed, they were the only ones still openly cheering for him.
Chapter 23 – The Chalice of Kale
The council members had all been watching the competition with more interest than they had shown in previous years. Other than the larger than normal bets that had been made at second meal, Lord Karthan knew that it was because of his announcement the evening prior that the winner of this competition would be made leader caste and given the apprentice rank of adventurer class, essentially being lined up to take the next vacancy in the gen’s council. If his chamberlain’s work uncovered enough proof of treachery in the leader caste, then this new adventurer class could be quickly put into any vacant slot that occurred. He could only imagine that bringing yet another loyalist into the council would help calm and solidify things.
He stopped to think for a minute, and then reconsidered his last thought. He was not sure that these yearlings were terribly loyal to him. He thought that none of them came from families that were enemies to him; after all, all of his known enemies seemed to be leader caste… or elite warriors. After a moment of pondering, Lord Karthan turned to his chamberlain who was seated next to him.
“Khazak,” he started.
Khazak Mail Fist, who had been watching the battle between Durik and Gorgon in the central clearing intensely, stopped yelling and turned toward Lord Karthan. “Yes, my lord,” he answered, bending closer to hear him over the din of the crowd.
“Whoever wins this competition, I would like to see him tonight in my personal chambers. Make sure he is brought without being too obvious about it… and alone.”
“Yes, my lord. It shall be done.”
Gorgon pressed the battle and Durik now found himself losing ground as hammer blow after hammer blow landed on his spear. It was obvious to Durik what Gorgon was trying to do by constantly hammering on his spear. He was trying to either break his spear or tire him out, likely both. Durik knew he had to break this tactic, as it clearly favored his much stronger foe. Deflecting and dodging as best he could, while trying to keep Gorgon on his toes with an occasional thrust, Durik soon found his back against one of the pillars of the tower. Durik turned around and ran as fast as he could around the base of the tower to the open side, then quickly put the stairs between him and the onrushing Gorgon.
Both of them stood eyeing each other from between the steps of the spiral staircase as they caught their breath. Soon, Gorgon rushed around the base of the staircase, hoping to catch Durik off balance. Durik was tired, but still too quick for Gorgon. Instead of catching Durik, Gorgon ended up trading sides of the staircase with him. Again, they ended up eyeing each other through the holes between the steps.
All of a sudden, Gorgon noticed a piece of metal wrapped in the tie of Durik’s loincloth. Wiping the sweat from his eyes, he looked again and saw that, definitely, it was the missing key.
“Aha. So you’ve got the missing key!” Gorgon exclaimed.
“It’s not been missing. It’s been with me for some time,” Durik panted in reply, flashing Gorgon a toothy grin.
Gorgon charged around the stairwell again. Again Durik was too fast for him and the two merely ended up changing places. This pattern continued for several more times until Gorgon, getting frustrated with Durik’s unwillingness to play his endurance game, chased Durik one more time but ran up the stairs instead of around them. As Gorgon ascended, Durik thrust his spear through the stairwell. By pure chance, Gorgon happened to stumble at that very moment and Durik’s spear grazed Gorgon’s shield arm. Gorgon growled as he reached the next level of the tower and threw his shield over the side of the tower, holding his left arm behind his back.
“Well, if I can’t get a kill on you, perhaps I’ll take you a piece at a time,” Durik called up the stairs after him.
Gorgon was upset, and his anger showed in his voice. “What have I done!?” he yelled to no one in particular. “Why do the Fates curse me like this!?” As Durik climbed the stairs, Gorgon jumped from the platform and headed back toward his start point to nullify the wound.
This time, Durik stood on the platform as Gorgon left running.
Keryak, Arbelk, and Troka watched from the base of the trainer’s stand as Gorgon came out of the obstacles and, approaching his starting point, took the wet rag provided and washed a large red mark off of his left arm. Once finished, Gorgon began to run toward the next point to grab a shield he saw hanging there.
As the entire crowd watched, Trallik stepped out from the passageway that Gorgon had just recently left and, drawing his bow back, fired an arrow at Gorgon’s back. This time, the screams from the crowd were not quick enough to alert Gorgon of the danger in time and the arrow struck him squarely between the shoulder blades, leaving a large red mark and a welt.
“Gorgon!” both trainers in the crows’ nests called simultaneously. The announcer put a second red flag in the clay jug on the announcers stand with Gorgon’s initial on it. At this time, besides Durik who had one flag, the other three remaining kobolds all had two.
With absolute fury in his eyes, Gorgon quickly turned around. Trallik turned and ran as fast as he could into the passageway. Feeling the eyes of the crowd on him, Gorgon dropped his hammer and key then ran back the few steps to his starting point to quickly wipe off the red mark and grab a javelin before sprinting back to pick up his hammer and key again. Gaining control of himself to some degree, he decided against running straight after Trallik, and instead went to the next point over and got the shield that he had originally targeted. Then he sprinted with every bit of energy he had left after Trallik, fully focused on the task of finding and beating Trallik senseless.
The fact that Trallik had a good understanding of most tactical situations wasn’t even a question. He’d heard Gorgon running by from a side passage. Thinking that Gorgon had had his second kill against him already, but wondering why he was still carrying his hammer instead of having dropped it, he followed Gorgon back toward his starting point. Noticing that he’d only been ‘wounded,’ Trallik saw the opportunity to possibly get an easy kill and waited patiently. Very soon, Gorgon had stepped off his starting point. Trallik aimed carefully and fired, hitting him square.
This understanding of the tactical situation really did nothing to prepare his lacking courage for the pure anger and hatred he saw in Gorgon’s eyes as he turned to face Trallik. Scared, and hearing footsteps that weren’t there as he ran, Trallik sprinted for all he was worth in a desperate attempt to get away from Gorgon before he could catch and kill him.
His desperate run brought him into the central clearing, where he barely modified his course to avoid Durik on the second floor of the tower as he ran across the clearing to the other side. Durik, in the mean time, had found a bow, arrows in a quiver, a pair of javelins, and his misplaced sword and shield. Along with his spear, he’d taken all these and established something of a strongpoint on the second floor of the tower. Aiming at Trallik as he ran by, Durik fired two arrows, both of which missed his dodging and weaving fellow yearling, though not by much.
From the near side of the clearing to the crowd, Jerrig watched carefully while hidden in the shadows of a side passageway.
It was not long before Gorgon appeared from the same passageway that Trallik had recently exited. Javelin, hammer and shield in his hands, he slowed almost to a stop as he checked to make sure that no one was waiting in ambush on either side of the opening. Satisfied that the only danger was Durik in the tower, he came walking warily out toward the base of the tower. Durik, in turn, stood up with bow in hand. Drawing back the string he fired his remaining three arrows in rapid succession. Gorgon blocked the first with his shield, then ducked as the second sailed over his head. Gauging the flight of the third one, Gorgon stepped to the side and knocked it away with his shield.
Putting his hammer in hi
s belt, Gorgon took javelin in hand and approached. From his higher position in the tower, Durik knew he could beat Gorgon’s range with the javelin. Throwing the first one while Gorgon was still relatively far out, Durik watched it wobble through the air. The day’s events had taken their toll on his accuracy. Seeing how poorly he’d done with the first javelin, Durik waited for Gorgon to get closer before hefting his second javelin.
Gorgon approached to within thirty steps of the base of the tower. Laying his hammer down for a moment, he ran forward a few steps and threw his javelin with all his might. Durik was surprised by the trajectory and speed he was able to put behind that javelin and was almost caught by it. At the last second, he snapped his shield up. The javelin caught the edge of the shield and ripped it from his grasp, causing it to fly across the tower to the opposite wall. Seeing his limited success, Gorgon stepped back and collected his hammer, then came charging toward the base of the tower. As he approached, Durik regained his balance and, taking aim, quickly threw his remaining javelin. His aim was true, but Gorgon was fast enough with his shield to deflect it, though the arm strap of his shield ripped in the process. Gorgon stopped and dropped the useless shield, exchanging it for the javelin Durik had just thrown. With hammer in one hand and javelin in the other, Gorgon carefully maneuvered up the stairs, making sure to not leave any openings for Durik to exploit.
Durik, in the mean time, had drawn his sword with his left hand and was preparing for Gorgon’s arrival. Soon, the two of them were locked in melee combat on the second level of the Tower of the Chalice.
From the stands, the crowd cheered and yelled, each kobold yelling for their favorite to win. Many of them cheered the much stronger Gorgon, but surprisingly, many more cheered the seeming underdog, Durik. Over the course of this day, it had been his presence of mind that had gained more than Gorgon’s strength. His ability to think calmly and rationally, even while pressed by a superior foe, had won him the respect and admiration of many.
With Gorgon far behind him and obviously not on his trail, Trallik gained back his courage and eventually began to make his way around the obstacles until he came back again to a passage which led back toward the trainer’s stand and the crowd. Turning back toward the center, Trallik began to jog tiredly back in the direction of the tower.
Fortunately for him, he thought, he’d not lost his bow or either of his two remaining arrows this time. Checking his belt, he found that both long knives were still in their sheaths. Encouraged by this, Trallik pressed on toward the center.
Reaching the entrance to the central clearing, Trallik watched as Durik and Gorgon again fought it out on the second level of the tower. Taking his bow from his shoulder, he decided that, if ever there was a prime opportunity to increase his standings in the trials, and possibly win, this was it.
From a side passage, Jerrig had watched the battle that he was sure would determine the winner of this tournament. Though he would of course be willing to accept either of them as his leader, Jerrig secretly hoped that Durik would win. The fact that Jerrig had made it through the year of training was directly attributable to the number of times that Durik and Keryak had helped him overcome some challenge or another. Those two had consistently taken care of him since the beginning, when most of the others had shunned him because of the rumors they’d heard.
As he was watching, Jerrig saw Trallik step slightly out of the shadows of a passageway just out of javelin range. Trallik reached over his shoulder, and Jerrig saw him draw an arrow out of his quiver. Trallik was focused on the fight in the tower and had not seen him, and it was obvious to Jerrig that neither of the kobolds in the tower had seen Trallik either.
If there was one kobold that Jerrig knew he didn’t want to be in charge, it was Trallik. Hefting his javelin and focusing all the control his mind could muster, Jerrig ran forward out of the passageway and threw his javelin with all his might. Trallik turned quickly and, seeing the javelin coming for him, fired an arrow in Jerrig’s direction before stepping out of the trajectory of the javelin.
Focusing his powers with all his might, Jerrig reached out with his mind and pushed the javelin, causing it to veer slightly toward a very surprised Trallik. With a sharp exhale, the javelin knocked Trallik to the ground as only a split second later Trallik’s arrow exploded in a cloud of red dye on Jerrig’s chest.
Durik and Gorgon again were on either side of the staircase. Durik had managed to keep Gorgon off balance enough to keep him from landing a solid blow, but had not yet worn down his patience to the point where Gorgon would let down his guard enough for an opportunity to strike. At the moment Jerrig had stepped out and thrown his javelin Durik was facing in his direction and, as Gorgon moved slightly to one side, he saw the javelin’s flight path bend until it slammed into Trallik, knocking him to the ground. Though it wasn’t the strangest thing he’d seen that day, Durik was left wondering.
“I think your problems with Trallik in the trials are over,” Durik said matter-of-factly as he snapped his focus back to the moment to fend off another javelin thrust.
Gorgon looked at him quizzically as he thrust again, this time through the stairs, “Why do you say that?”
From above them in the crow’s nest, the trainer cried out, “Trallik and Jerrig! Trallik first!”
Gorgon backed up and looked behind him at Trallik on the ground holding his stomach and Jerrig wiping the die from his face and chest as best he could. When he turned back around, his smile was all teeth.
From the stands, the announcer’s voice boomed out, “Trallik ends the competition with three points.” After a moment, his voice boomed out again, “Jerrig takes third place in the scouting competition, scoring three points. Jerrig ends the competition with three points overall!” The crowd cheered and Jerrig’s father was grinning from ear to ear with pride that his troubled son had somehow done so well as to place third in the scouting trial. The look on Trallik’s father’s face, however, was more one of concern.
Back in the tower, Gorgon and Durik had realized that the competition had come down to them. By Gorgon’s calculations, if he could take down Durik and get the cup, by points he’d tie with Durik, and in the past unlike a tie for second or third, a tie for first place had always gone to the winner of the scouting trial; to he who got the cup.
As he stepped forward again, intent on breaking Durik’s discipline and making him slip up, Gorgon started swinging his javelin from side to side in great, sweeping arcs, holding his hammer at the ready.
Durik realized that Gorgon was deliberately exposing one side in hopes that he would take his chances and try to exploit it. While he was not terribly fond of tripping other peoples’ traps, Durik did notice that this new tactic had exposed an error on Gorgon’s part. As Gorgon swung his javelin in front of his body, the momentum he was putting into the javelin caused him to cross his feet slightly. As Gorgon advanced, Durik suddenly dropped his sword and leapt forward, but instead of going for Gorgon’s side and getting a hammer blow as a reward, Durik followed the movement of the javelin as it crossed in front of Gorgon’s body and grabbed it, pushing the tip of it until it lodged against the stairway. He then pushed toward Gorgon’s end of the javelin, catching Gorgon with his feet slightly crossed and knocking him slightly off balance. As Gorgon struggled to recover his balance, Durik advanced, driving his spear downward as he came.
Gorgon saw it coming and dropped his hammer in time to grab the end of Durik’s spear before it could strike home. The concentration that task took caused him to continue to stumble backwards, but in turn Durik’s spear clattered away across the platform. A split second later, Durik slammed into Gorgon and the two of them stumbled back until they both fell off the edge of the platform to the sand below, the light from the chimney above them blinding Gorgon as he fell backwards.
Fortunately for Durik, Gorgon landed on his back, breaking the javelin in two pieces between him and Durik, who landed on top of him. Jumping up, Durik let go of the pieces and dived for
a javelin that was lying nearby in the sand. Blinking in the bright light streaming down from above, Gorgon saw what Durik was doing and threw the bottom half of the broken javelin. Durik spun around and ducked as the broken haft went flying over his head then, taking his javelin in both hands, Durik rushed forward. Though he had pretty much recovered from the fall and gotten to his feet, Gorgon missed blocking Durik’s javelin as he swung his javelin like a club, leaving his side exposed. Durik saw his opportunity and drove his javelin home, catching Gorgon’s exposed side and leaving a long stripe along his ribcage.
“Gorgon!” the trainer in the crow’s nest called. In the stands the crowd went wild. Durik’s family jumped up and down ecstatically, as did most of the Wolf Riders Warrior Group that he had grown up in. In the council boxes Torgal of the Sundered Skull, assisted by his servant Kabbak, was on his feet and was gloating loudly about the large bet he’d just won. In front of the trainer’s stand, Keryak beamed with pride for his best friend.
Durik grasped Gorgon’s hand and took the key, then turned and climbed both flights of stairs to the top in a few bounds. The brilliant light of mid-day in the world above streamed down through the first entrance to their home caverns, wreathing the tower in a bright, lustrous glow as Durik stood on the top stand; the finish line. Standing before the chest as the crowd cheered, Durik placed the remaining two keys into their locks and opened the chest. In the middle of the large chest on a low pedestal sat a much smaller case. Durik brought it out and opened it, revealing a golden goblet ringed with precious stones; the cup they all had fought so hard to obtain.
Turning to the crowd, Durik held the chalice with both hands above his head for all to see, the light of the world above reflecting off its many surfaces as the entire gen looked on in exuberant awe.