by Joel Babbitt
Chapter 24 – Decisions and Destinies
Manebrow dried the ink from his fresh marks on the archival scroll for this Trials of Caste, where he had listed Durik’s name as overall winner of the Trials of Caste, Gorgon as second place, and Jerrig and Trallik as tied for third. Finishing, Manebrow rolled up the scroll and tied it with a leather thong, then walked down the steps from the trainers stand, taking his place in front of the Lord’s Box, facing toward the stands. From a side door just off the arena floor a small group of servant caste entered, hurriedly moving to clear the barrels and other sundry equipment that lay about the place where the ceremonies would conclude.
Standing almost as one, Lord Karthan, Khazak Mail Fist, the leaders of the other five warrior groups as well as the remaining chief elite warriors all converged on the stairs in front of the Lord’s Box and made their way down to the floor of the arena. Lord Karthan took his place in front of Kormach Manebrow, Khazak Mail Fist standing to one side of him, though Lord Karthan’s grizzled old chief elite warrior was strangely absent from his spot on Lord Karthan’s other side. On their right Khee-lar stood alone as leader of the Deep Guard, while next to him Raoros Fang and Troll both took their places as leaders of the Wolf Riders. On their left, the leader caste and chief elite warriors of the Metalsmithies, Trade, and Patrol Guard warrior groups all took their places as the servant caste struggled to drag a large barrel full of practice weapons to the bottom of the trainer’s stand and out of view of the crowd.
The yearlings marched forward and stopped, turning to form one rank in front of Lord Karthan, and the crowd quieted in boisterous anticipation of the conclusion of the Trials of Caste. Anticipation was high in the crowd, anticipation of the promise of new status for the yearlings and the expected surprise that the announcement of the quest always provided.
Within the ranks of the yearlings, there were many emotions. Durik’s victory had wiped away all the self-consciousness his bronze scales had caused him since his earliest memories. He felt pride, yet apprehension, the events of the scouting trial having overcome most thoughts of the insurrection, yet the sudden appearance of the servant caste who were so interested in these barrels instantly set him on edge. Could these be the warriors he had seen in his dream… in his vision? Durik was certain for a moment, but the power of the vision had quickly faded and so he doubted. Besides, he was the focus of the entire gen at the moment, and that felt very real.
Gorgon and Trallik both felt frustration at having not placed first, though one of them began the process of accepting his fate while the other refused to. Most of the yearlings simply felt relief; relief that the trials had ended without embarrassing themselves in front of the entire gen, relief that the year of intense training was over and they were finally to become warriors, and for some perhaps even relief that they had not been chosen to lead whatever quest it was that they were to be given.
After Lord Karthan unrolled and reviewed the scroll, Khazak Mail Fist raised his hands above his head and turned to face the crowd, signaling for them to be silent. Looking over at Manebrow, he nodded and the master trainer turned smartly, jogging to take his place off to one side to indicate that his role as these yearlings’ trainer and now judge was finally finished.
As the crowd quieted, Khazak saw Lord Karthan’s nod as he stood looking at the seven yearlings that had now completed the Trials of Caste. He took the cue. “Sire, the yearlings are prepared to receive your judgments,” the chamberlain stated for all to hear.
“Yearlings,” Lord Karthan started in a loud, clear voice, “Since the beginnings of our race, these trials have served many purposes, primarily they have served as a means for differentiating the protectors from the protected. This day is no different in that respect. Today you have shown to the entire gen who you are and what you are capable of accomplishing. Today, you cross over from being untested whelps to capable adults. Today you also make the additional step of crossing over from being the protected to being the protectors of this gen. Today, you are warriors of the Kale Gen.”
The crowd cheered with the pronouncement of seven new warriors. Lord Karthan waited for a few moments then nodded to his chamberlain. Khazak Mail Fist raised one steel clad fist in a gesture of silence. Lord Karthan continued his speech.
“I have said that these trials have served many purposes, and so it is. Today as in times past, they serve to differentiate the leaders from the led. Be it known this day that Gorgon shall serve this gen as elite warrior, with all the rights and responsibilities belonging to this high and difficult calling. Additionally, Gorgon, you shall henceforth carry the honor name of Hammer for your skill with the hammer both as a blacksmith and in combat, as well as for the relentless way you use your great strength.”
Gorgon was stunned. The only thing that passed through his mind was that Lord Karthan must be mistaken. After all, he had lost in fair combat to Durik. Despite his discipline, his jaw hung open as he tried to grasp what had just happened.
Standing next to Gorgon, it was obvious from the look on Durik’s face that Gorgon was not the only one who didn’t have a clear understanding of why Lord Karthan had made such a proclamation. His eyes wandering about in pain, Durik saw his family all murmuring amongst themselves in confusion. He looked to the Lord’s Box to see Kiria’s reaction, but she was not there, which only added to his confusion.
Holding up one hand to quiet the shocked crowd, Lord Karthan continued, “You will not lead this quest, however, Gorgon Hammer, though this quest will likely take you and your five new warriors to the depths of the earth, the heights of the mountains, and perhaps to a place where our gen has not dared venture since it was sealed to us by our ancestors tens of generations now past. I say you and your five warriors, but with you I will send five more warriors under the leadership of their own elite warrior.” Turning to look at the master trainer who stood stiffly off to one side, Lord Karthan continued, “Manebrow, come forth,” he called.
Manebrow straightened and turned at the call of the Lord of the Gen, jogging quickly to take a position standing well behind the new warriors. Once he was in position, he called out, “Lord, your trainer is ready to receive your orders!”
As Manebrow made his approach, the servant caste suddenly began digging into a large barrel full of long, warped sticks. After a few moments, with confused looks they all began pulling the sticks out and throwing them off to the side as discretely as they could. Though the leaders of the gen had their backs turned to the servant caste and so did not notice, Manebrow and the seven former yearlings certainly did. Troll heard the movement behind him, however, and misinterpreted it.
Lord Karthan smiled with pride as he looked on his Master Trainer. “Manebrow, you have done well as Master Trainer of this gen. Your dedication and expertise has helped build this gen’s warrior caste into a force that none of our enemies have been able to withstand. Truly you are to be commended. I release you now from your duties as Master Trainer for a season. I will give you charge over five of this gen’s warriors, which will be named in private council tonight.”
As Manebrow left to take his place off to the side, Lord Karthan paused, turning to look at the crowd. Slightly confused by the antics of the handful of servant caste below the trainer’s stand, he tried his best to ignore it. “It is written in our law that forming a group of this size demands that one of the leader caste be called upon to take charge. As such,” Lord Karthan turned and looked at the yearlings yet again, “I hereby make Durik, the champion of this year’s Trials of Caste, a leader caste from this time forth, at the rank of adventurer class, with all the rights and responsibilities inherent in this great charge.”
Durik staggered, but didn’t fall. His uncle, aunt, and sister stood with jaws wide open. Gorgon stood a little taller, as though the world had just been made right, while Trallik looked at Durik in stunned, angry silence. Keryak muttered in confusion as he looked at his best friend like he’d just sprouted a third horn.
Lord Ka
rthan cut through the astonished buzz of the crowd with his next statement. “Leaders, warriors, and members of the Kale Gen,” he paused as the excited noise of the crowd subsided, “this day I give a quest to our new—and old warrior group. Durik, your quest is to find the Kale Stone, the source of our ancestors’ power. Do you accept this quest, Durik, not only for yourself, but on behalf of those whose lives are now in your hands?”
Durik stood in stunned disbelief. It had all happened so fast. One minute he was the orphaned son of a long dead wolf trainer trying to prove that he too deserved warrior status, as his father before him. The next minute, he had been plucked from his humble beginnings and exalted to the leader caste. Hearing Lord Karthan’s question, he did what any sensible being would do in such a circumstance; he stuttered.
“Um… uh…. yu… ye… ye… Yes?” he finally managed to spit it out.
“So be it,” Lord Karthan pronounced as the crowd cheered. “May the quest for the Kale Stone begin!”
It was at that exact moment that the dour Troll decided he had had enough. No matter what was delaying his warriors under the trainers stand behind him, he had to take action. Drawing his sword, he turned and barked “Death to Lord Karthan!” Without even seeing if his warriors were with him, Troll leapt at Lord Karthan, sword held high and ready to strike.
Khazak Mail Fist, however, had been waiting intently for Troll to make his move. Drawing his own sword and spinning to face him in one fluid motion, the chamberlain blocked Troll’s strike, their swords ringing loudly in the massive cavern of the arena.
At the crack of the two blades meeting, everyone instantly began to move.
Up in the stands a group of elite warriors from the Patrol Guard, Kort at their head calling excitedly for Lord Karthan’s death and for death to his heirs, rushed down the stands toward the Lord’s Box. Just as quickly, the small knot of Lord Karthan’s bodyguards that had been surrounding the Lord’s family got up as one and began to rush down the stairs, leaving the box mysteriously empty behind them.
Unbeknownst to the conspirators, Lord Karthan’s daughter had already gone to the Lord’s House, a strongpoint easily defended by only a handful of guards, then without Kiria’s knowledge her two younger brothers, Lord Karthan’s two heirs, had been spirited away under the cloaks of Lord Karthan’s chief body guard and his chief elite warrior.
Down on the arena floor Lord Karthan jumped away from his attacker, which threw him into the midst of Durik and the new warriors, almost bowling Jerrig over. The leaders of the Patrol Guard, Metalsmithies, and Trade Warrior Groups seemed genuinely surprised, and all of them began to back away from the confrontation between Khazak and Troll. Raoros Fang did not acknowledge the actions of his chief elite warrior, and neither did Khee-lar Shadow Hand, but neither of them moved to intervene either.
For the moment the hulking warrior that was Raoros Fang and his brooding companion-in-indecision Khee-lar Shadow Hand stood waiting to see if this insurrection would hand them leadership of the gen. Raoros Fang was uncertain yet believed that Troll and Kort were loyal to only him. Strangely enough, standing next to Raoros, Khee-lar Shadow Hand was much more certain that these two members of the Covenant were clearly acting on his behalf, if not his orders.
Seeing Khee-lar’s hand on his sword, and knowing exactly where his loyalties did not lie, Manebrow stepped up behind Khee-lar and cracked him on the skull with the hilt of a sword, dropping the leader of the Deep Guard like a stone.
“Keryak, the barrel!” Durik cried out as he stepped in front of his unarmed lord.
Almost jumping the few steps to the other inconspicuous barrel where they had moved the weapons they had taken from the conspirators’ barrel under the trainer’s stand, Keryak grabbed the lip of it and pulled it over, the bright steel swords and wicked barbed throwing darts spilling to the ground amidst the dark wooden practice weapons.
“Swords!” Durik pointed and looked at his fellow yearlings. “Grab them! To our lord! To Lord Karthan!”
Wrenched from their surprised state by Durik’s decisive action, all five former yearlings rushed over to Keryak who passed each of them a sword, plus an extra for Lord Karthan.
“You heard him!” Gorgon growled as the rest of the group stopped and milled about the spilled barrel. “Circle around Lord Karthan! Move now!”
Refocused, the small knot of new warriors followed Gorgon’s lead and surrounded Lord Karthan—all except for Trallik who continued digging through the barrel until he had swords enough for the pseudo-servant caste who were running toward the barrel from under the trainers stand. The fight between Troll and Khazak was intense, neither of them giving ground, and now that the hiding place of their weapons had been revealed Troll’s fellow conspirators were eager to get in the fight.
Clearly seeing that these kobolds masquerading as servant caste were the conspirators from his vision, Durik grabbed Troka by the shoulder and turned him back around. “You and Arbelk, follow Keryak and go stop those traitors!”
Troka saw the fight going on between Troll and Khazak, he heard Durik’s command, and he saw several overly-muscular servant caste rushing toward the barrel.
At that moment he understood, and the surprise of the event was behind him.
Grabbing Arbelk by the arm, Troka ran after Keryak. Keryak was yelling ‘Oh no you don’t!’ as he tackled Trallik and scattered the swords and darts Trallik had been gathering.
“I wasn’t doing anything wrong!” Trallik insisted, it was a clear lie but Trallik could see that Keryak wanted to believe him.
Keryak looked down at him. “Swear it!” he said, pinning Trallik’s arms to the ground.
“I swear!” Trallik hissed.
Keryak looked at Trallik with a skeptical eye, wondering if Trallik was lying to get him off of him. At the moment he thought he had little choice but to believe him, however, so he stood and helped Trallik to his feet.
Behind Keryak, Troka and Arbelk had a different aim. Running just in front of the onrushing group of traitors, Troka spun about to confront them and brought his sword to bear in both hands. Arbelk next to him did the same.
“You’ll not touch those weapons!” Troka barked.
Next to him, Arbelk looked less sure. “What he said.”
The group stopped, the kobold at their head suddenly taking on a very fearsome look. It was as if his teeth had suddenly grown as his muscles simultaneously bulged against crossed shoulder belts that appeared from nowhere.
“Step aside,” the leader growled in a deep voice. Then, with one hand on a belt pouch, he swatted his hand toward Troka from three paces away, who staggered back clutching his head as if he’d been struck.
Arbelk looked over at his dazed companion, then with eyes wide open, he looked back at the leader of the conspirators.
“Step aside now!” the fearsome kobold growled again.
Arbelk didn’t wait for whatever power it was that the strange kobold wielded. In one hand he held a dart. Throwing it underhanded, he broke the leader’s concentration as it sailed past his head. Capitalizing on the distraction, Arbelk did perhaps the most impetuous thing he’d ever done in his life; pointing his horns at the hulking brute and holding the cold steel of his sword in both hands, he charged.
Lord Karthan’s three remaining body guards rushed down the stairs, leaving the top of the stairs in the hands of Kort and his handful of conspirators. From all about the Lord’s Box a number of Honor Guard warriors came, an assortment of swords and long knives revealing themselves from scabbards as they began to gather in front of Kort and his warriors.
“To Lord Karthan!” they took up the yell, and from the stands many others, warriors and servant caste mostly, took up the call as well, rising to their feet and beginning to make their way toward the various exits that would eventually lead to the fight on the arena floor.
Not all in the stands who stood were for Lord Karthan, however. More impetuous than their lesser brethren, the elite warriors of the gen stood a
s well, and among their ranks they were two-to-one against Lord Karthan. The memory of the privilege they had once had still stirred many of them to action.
Most of the fighting in the stands was fists-only, as those who were loyal to Karthan and those who were opposed to him had generally not been hardened by wicked covenants on the one hand, or by position and privilege bestowed by Lord Karthan on the other. Here and there, however, a long knife was drawn and blood was spilt.
Down on the arena floor, on the other hand, it was a completely different situation. Knives, swords, darts, shields, indeed any implement of war the combatants could get their hands on was in use.
Jerrig had had the presence of mind to gather two swords from the barrel, and now Lord Karthan gratefully took one from him. Casting off the scabbard, Lord Karthan turned to Durik.
“Durik, are you loyal to me?” he asked.
The question startled Durik. “Yes, lord. Of course I’m loyal to you.”
Lord Karthan smiled and nodded. “Very well. I will help Khazak with Troll. You and your warriors stop those others,” he said, pointing at the six who were dressed as servant caste and were confronting Troka and Arbelk.
“Aye, lord,” Durik nodded. In a sudden moment of impetuousness, Durik quickly asked one burning question, “Sire, is your family safe?”
“Yes, I sent them away before this started,” Lord Karthan answered before running off.
Durik’s relief was visible, though unnoticed. Behind him Gorgon was already charging horns-first at the group of conspirators, while Jerrig waited for his cousin.
Not sure of the intentions of the group of leader caste and chief elite warriors, Manebrow stepped away and held his sword out. “I don’t know which of you is conspiring to kill Lord Karthan and which is a friend to our lord.”