by Joel Babbitt
Before long, the fifty-some warriors who had gathered were mostly dead. The final five survivors were among those who already had blood on their hands, and they were all wounded. Three of them saw that the other two would not be able to make it on their own, and they left them where they lay, running for all they were worth after Kort, Khee-lar and his Untouchables.
As the three survivors fled the scene of the wild melee, Khazak knelt in the sand, the senselessness of what he’d seen overcoming his emotions. These were his brothers, those he had grown up with, those whose sisters he had courted, those whose mothers and fathers had looked to him to help ensure the gen’s safety for their posterity. These were his brothers in arms, companions in defending the gen against orcs and other threats for all of his adult life… and yet they had slaughtered each other. Wiping tears from his eyes, he turned to his group of thirty and grimly muttered, “Let’s end this thing.”
The blood and senseless killing wasn’t limited to the caverns of the Deep Guard. Throughout the caverns of the other warrior groups there were many who had been waiting for the right circumstances to arise and reject Khee-lar’s rule who gladly rose up against those that Khee-lar had placed in positions of power.
In the caverns of the Wolf Riders Warrior Group, Drok and those who had fled with him were able to convince their companions that they should join with them in throwing off the evil of Khee-lar Shadow Hand. Soon, the warrior group had rallied behind Drok and taken Abetor, bound hand and foot, to the council chambers to see justice done to him.
In the vast and extensive caverns of the Patrol Guard, their new leader caste, one of Khee-lar’s most trusted and yet most corrupt warriors, was bound and gagged and thrown in an empty dog kennel that the Trade Warrior Group offered up for that purpose. With him went several elite warriors who had served Khee-lar’s purposes and who had been given favors and power because of it.
In the Trade and Metalsmithies Warrior Groups they were not so merciful. When the insurrection first started they rose up as one, first killing the wealth collectors that Khee-lar had placed among them, and then killing their new leader caste and chief elite warriors that Khee-lar had appointed over them. Goryon had tried to stop them, but his efforts were token at best. He wanted to see the usurpers dead as well, though he had half-heartedly argued for bringing them to trial before executing them.
Before the insurrection had reached its conclusion, however, Lord Karthan took his four other personal guards and ran all the way to the entrance to the Deep Guard Warrior Group’s caverns. Khazak Mail Fist had sent a report of heavy fighting back to him, and now he and his small entourage followed the warrior who’d brought the message to him back to their caves.
As they arrived at the first entrance to the Deep Guard’s caverns, Trallik, Trikki, and a couple of other warriors stood there waiting for him.
“Sire,” Trallik bowed his head respectfully while still looking up at Lord Karthan.
“What’s the news?” Lord Karthan asked. “Have we caught him, then?”
“Sire, Khazak awaits you at the entrance to Sheerface. Apparently they want to talk. Shall I lead you there?”
Lord Karthan followed Trallik, the foreign female next to him with the hate-filled eyes and the blood-drenched spear, and the warriors who stood with him down into the bowels of the Deep Guard’s training caves. They went even further down a long passageway to a cavern with only one other exit from it. It was the entrance to Sheerface, the cliff that was their gen’s entrance into the underdark.
Standing around the entrance, Khazak had mustered some fifty kobold warriors. He’d gathered a number of shields as well, anticipating an assault down the narrow hallway that led to the edge of Sheerface.
As Lord Karthan arrived, Khazak nodded toward the entrance to Sheerface. “Sire, he’s in there. I saw your crown, though I didn’t get a good look at Khee-lar. I know they’re setting up winches and trying to escape. They’re buying time is all. That’s why they want to negotiate.”
Lord Karthan nodded his head. He moved up next to the entrance and called in. “Khee-lar! What is it you want of me?”
Silence, then a voice which sounded like he was already beginning his descent down Sheerface. “I am the true lord of this gen, you know. By blood right I rule!”
Lord Karthan looked at Khazak quizzically. The voice didn’t sound quite right. The timbre of it was a bit off, and the whine was gone from his voice.
“Khee-lar, I think you lost that right to rule when you lost the support of the warriors,” Lord Karthan called. Looking Khazak in the eyes, he gave him the look to get ready, holding up three fingers.
“You abused our people, Khee-lar! You played to their natural greed!” Lord Karthan called out.
Khazak began to form up a contingent of twenty warriors with tall shields and short swords.
Lord Karthan had two fingers up.
“Khee-lar, you brought out all that was evil in our people. You know they couldn’t put up with that for long!” Lord Karthan called out.
“I am still the rightful ruler of this gen! Nothing you say can take that away!” the voice called from further down Sheerface.
Khazak had the twenty warriors in two lines, all that could march abreast down the entryway. They were adjusting their shields.
Lord Karthan had only one finger up.
“Khee-lar, know that your leaders are being captured as we speak. All those you unlawfully enslaved are being set free as we speak, and the law of concubines you instituted is undone!” Lord Karthan called out after him.
“It doesn’t matter! I will return, and this time with sufficient force to ensure my reign!” the voice called from further down the massive hole.
Khazak’s twenty had their shields ready. On his signal, they drew swords. Forged steel rasped out of twenty sheaths as one.
Lord Karthan dropped his hand.
Shuffling forward in unison, the twenty warriors ploughed down the entryway into the narrow-ledged chamber at the top of Sheerface. Two arrows lodged in the first shield, another two arrows tried to find the legs or heads of those that held the shields, but the shooters were too nervous and shot high, lodging their shots in shield and ceiling.
Then the twenty were on them. Like a flood, the warriors Khazak had assembled swept both directions, slamming the bosses of their shields into unarmored opponents, knocking them backwards and into each other, pressing their weight against each other’s backs until the four Untouchables that had been left behind were pressed to the very edge of the ledges on either side. In a couple of short moments, and with a couple of shield slams, the four Untouchables each went screaming off into the dark abyss of Sheerface in turn.
Khazak Mail Fist and Lord Karthan came in on the heels of the twenty. They watched in morbid fascination as the four Untouchables dropped into space, their hot forms tumbling head over heels into the darkness below.
Lord Karthan looked down Sheerface. There were four winches that the four Untouchables had been operating. At the end of each winch, dangling helplessly far into the darkness, yet so mortally far from the hard bottom below, what appeared to be Khee-lar and three guards sat on two small platforms of wood, completely at their mercy.
For a long while Lord Karthan looked down at them in silence. He thought of the orc horde which was even now bearing down on their home. He thought of what the proper procedures should be as defined in the Scrolls of Heritage. He thought about how much time that would take, and about how Khee-lar would be safe in prison while the rest of them fought against the orcs.
Finally, Khazak Mail Fist walked to each of the winches and cut the ropes. They snapped with a certain finality that prefaced the screams below as the four kobolds fell through the darkness to the rocks below.
Trikki had finally broken down and had begun to sob uncontrollably. The numbness and shock at what had happened to her had inevitably turned to anger at those who had inflicted such trauma on her. Now that the objects of her anger were cornere
d, the adrenaline of the moment wore off and the sadness and pain began to settle in.
Trallik sat holding her in the cross-chamber outside the chambers that led to Sheerface. The gentle wind that flowed from the lava crack that heated their caverns blew up from the training caves beyond Sheerface in a calm droning as it beat lightly against the rocks of the cavern. As they sat, Trallik almost thought he could detect a strain of the wind that blew in time with his lifemate’s subtle sobs.
As they sat in the sand with their backs against the wall, from the training caves came a kobold in the heavy cloak of the type they used to get close to the lava crack and observe the flow. Trallik sat up slightly, his thoughts momentarily distracted from his lifemate’s pain. From deep within the recesses of the hood of the cloak, eyes full of fear and anger momentarily glanced his way before looking away as the cloaked figure attempted to hurry past.
Trallik stood up. Finally noticing the cloaked figure and, seeing her lifemate’s reaction as well, Trikki stood up, wiping tears and grabbing her spear as she did so.
“Halt, friend!” Trallik commanded, the tone in his voice not at all friendly. “Show yourself!” He held up his spear, ready to throw.
The cloaked figure stopped not more than a handful of paces past the couple. Looking about himself, and seeing they were alone, the hooded figure reached up and withdrew his hood.
“Khee-lar!” Trallik hissed. “You’ll not escape that easily!”
“Young Trallik,” Khee-lar Shadow Hand answered, his voice even and commanding. “You will not stop me,” he said matter-of-factly. “You may think that you’ve caught me now, but remember, your hands are not clean of my insurrection.”
“You tricked me, Khee-lar!” Trallik cried. “You played on my desire for power!”
Khee-lar raised a hand, revealing a sword clutched in the other hand underneath the cloak. “I see you’ve benefited from my short reign,” he said, pointing a finger at the swollen brand of a banner surrounding the sword on his chest.
“I owe you nothing, Khee-lar!” Trallik spat at his feet. “I serve Lord Karthan now. He will forgive my mistaken allegiance to you and your evil!”
“Oh, my young one,” Khee-lar started, his voice smooth and calm. “You may be part of reclaiming the gen for Lord Karthan, but when all is said and done, he will find out that you covenanted with me to kill his daughter. How do you think he will look at you then?”
Trallik’s resolve was beginning to fade. The brave words he had spoken began to be cast into doubt. His spear began to lower, almost of its own accord.
Khee-lar saw his words were having an effect and pressed forward. “How do you think he will look at you when he sees you became an elite warrior under my reign? Do you think he will see you as anything other than my supporter? Could he see you as anything else?”
“But, I… I…” Trallik stuttered.
“Think, Trallik,” Khee-lar pressed as he stepped toward the pair of young kobolds. “You know I’m right. Once the truth comes out, his guards will take your head with their broadswords,” Khee-lar paused for a moment. “Come with me, Trallik. We will escape together to the northern valley. There we can build our strength. We can build an army, then come back and take back what is rightfully ours!”
“I… I don’t…” Trallik’s resolve was fading with the whisperings of fear Khee-lar Shadow Hand had put into his heart.
“You will be my second, Trallik,” Khee-lar promised as he stepped up and grabbed Trallik by the shoulder, looking him fervently in the eyes. “Come, let us escape now while Khazak and his warriors are on their wild-goose chase down Sheerface!”
All of a sudden, Khee-lar coughed in pain. The look in his eyes had changed from one of utter confidence to one of utter surprise and pain. The sword he’d held ready to gut Trallik if he had refused dropped to the ground.
As the pair stepped back from Khee-lar, it was as if the spell was broken, and Trallik was released from Khee-lar’s influence. Looking back at his savior, he watched as Trikki pulled her bloodied spear out of Khee-lar’s chest with a swift pull.
Trallik finally breathed again when Khee-lar’s lifeless body fell to the ground, his blood seeping quickly into the sand beneath him.
Chapter 16 – Prisoners and Refugees
Kale reached the tail of the long line of outcasts not long after he and his eldest son had left their home. Once Mirrik of the Deep Gen had sent word to let them pass, and they had torn down the makeshift wall that the Deep Gen had put up to seal out any intruders coming from the direction of Sheerface and the Kale Gen above, The Cross Way had indeed been the easiest part of the path so far, the Cross Way itself being long, somewhat straight, and generally level and flat. As they began to overtake the families with smaller whelps, the parents of whom were struggling under their burdens, Kale did all he could to encourage them and to lift their spirits and quell their fears. He found that his love for these, his people, had grown noticeably in the past day. He was glad to be among them, and was glad to be one of them.
“Father, is it true that you’re going to be lord of this new gen?” the younger Kale asked his father.
Kale looked down at his young son and smiled. “Yes, my son, though with a horde of orcs and another horde of ants going to the same place we’re going, I think the next day or so will be very interesting.” Kale looked back at Sable to see how the goat was progressing with her large burden.
“And dangerous!” his son added. He clung ever tighter to the wooden swords he had in his arms. “Will I have to fight them, father?”
Kale smiled as he struggled along with his son under the load he carried. “I certainly hope not. But don’t worry, son, there are many strong warriors in the Kale Gen already, and we will add ourselves to their number. Together, we should be strong enough.”
Kale himself was rather worried about that. He really didn’t know if they would be enough. He thought that, until they met the enemy on the field of battle, they’d likely not know the true number of the ants. And besides, there was much yet to be decided, like if the warriors of the Kale Gen would resist his claim to the throne or not. After his experience with Lord Sennak of the Deep Gen, he thought it very likely.
He didn’t have the Kale Stone, though he knew it was going to be found. He hadn’t convinced the Deep Gen to come with him, and he certainly wasn’t sure the Kale Gen would accept him as their lord. Really, all he had accomplished so far was the gathering of the outcasts. If this was going to happen, he certainly hadn’t seen the end of his worries yet.
Lord Karthan received the report of the Patrol Guard Warrior Group from their various elite warriors. They stood in their ranks with swords, spears, and bows. Those who had fomented rebellion among them had been bound and were now kneeling in a line in front of them. One of the elite warriors had relayed how poor Yamok, their former leader caste, had died at Khee-lar’s command. His children had returned from the fungus farms of the Deep Guard and his widow had been released from Lord Karthan’s home, where Khee-lar had kept her and several others as concubines.
As though they understood that their failure to stand up against Khee-lar’s evil had been the reason for her misery, the Patrol Guard had given up the home of the chief elite warrior to her and her children, and had promised to take care of them for as long as they should live. It was a small recompense for a life cut short, but it was all the repentance they could do for their collective sin of omission.
Lord Karthan felt stung at the raping and pillaging that Khee-lar had done in the name of the lord of the gen. The debauchery that had occurred in his own home and council chamber was beyond what he could bear to hear described. He’d finally cut off those who would tell him of such things, telling them he would hear it all in its due time, when those who now knelt before him or who awaited his arrival in the caverns of the other warrior groups were brought before him for justice to be done.
And he would certainly see justice done—every last bit of it.
&n
bsp; “Take them and throw them into the kennels,” Lord Karthan spoke in a firm tone.
Anxious to regain their lord’s favor after so much evil had occurred because of their inaction, the warriors who served as escort kicked, pushed, and prodded the prisoners with spears to get them moving, and to get themselves out of the disappointed sight of their lord.
Lord Karthan’s tears and his obvious heartbreak at what had occurred in his beloved gen were more than many of his warriors could take. They hung their heads as Lord Karthan had read before them a brief account of what had occurred under Khee-lar’s rule. He read the names of all those that it was known were killed by Khee-lar, some seventy warriors, plus a handful of females and double that of whelps. Khee-lar had been thorough in eliminating those he didn’t care for, or those who had resisted him.
Lord Karthan repeated this in each of his warrior groups, except the Deep Guard. Their numbers were so depleted and their reputation so soiled, that he immediately disbanded that warrior group. The few warriors who remained from that warrior group and who weren’t in prison were immediately reassigned to the other warrior groups.
Through it all, Khazak worked feverishly behind the scenes with the loyal warriors of each warrior group to determine who the guilty ones might be, and to seal off all possibility of their escape. Both he and Lord Karthan pushed themselves, knowing that the orcs were no more than a day away, and that if they didn’t take care of the betrayers among their gen, they’d not have the trust among the ranks that they would need to face the horde.