Arghen blinked, shocked.
“However,” she continued, “I am not unmindful of your advancements or rewards.”
A sudden hope filled Arghen as she paused. She had to be referring to the prestige he was to claim because she knew that would be his choice. Because of it, would he be simply demoted from dranth corps to battle corps? If so, that would be fitting, but was also something he could rise from again. Dranth corps riders were prized because not every Under-elf could bond with a dranth. If demotion was to be his lot, he was sure he’d win his way back some time in the future. Or maybe he would instead be discharged from the Military? That would be a harsh blow, but he would find some way to overcome it in future times. Perhaps he could do it through the Civilian fighting arenas. The Captain’s next words brought him back to the here-and-now.
“Here is what I decree: the prestige that you would have chosen later this Darkening is now exchanged for your life. But for your crimes you are hereby banished from Relkanav. You are no longer one of us,” she pronounced slowly and dispassionately despite the anger in her eyes.
Whispers of surprise reverberated through the ranks, and Arghen felt the blood drain out of his face. Banished from Relkanav all together, and not just demoted or discharged from the Military? While Arghen stood there stunned, Silex and Marceus dismounted from their dranths and came over to strip Arghen of his weapons, armor, and literally rip the red and black shirt of his uniform off his body. Arghen didn’t put up a struggle—he was too numb to even consider it. Banishment had happened so rarely in the annals of Relkanavian history that he hadn’t even thought that it might be a consequence.
When he stood disarmed and bare-chested in front of her, Captain Petrai looked at him, satisfaction creeping in to mix with the anger of her eyes. “I would never have bet that I would have ever had to take this step against one of my own, but I am glad that if I had to, it turned out to be against you,” she said in a low voice.
She turned her dranth around in place, presenting her back to him. The rest of the Relkanavian warriors reluctantly followed suit. Then at Petrai’s command, the Tenax and Gravis House Forces marched off towards the city-state, taking Stalker with them and leaving Arghen to stand alone, outcast among the dead.
CHAPTER 5
Once the warriors were gone, the ones the messenger had been sent to fetch came onto the killing field. The Deadmongers were of those ‘lower’ life forms—or considered as such by Under-elves in general—such as the green-skinned Troglodytes, the pale grey Kobolds, and others. They were usually set to the unenviable tasks that kept Under-elven society working, like taking care of a battlefield full of Under-elven and dranth corpses. The Deadmongers eyed him uncomfortably as they set about cleaning up the battlefield by separating the enemy dead from the city dead, collecting stray weapons, and skinning and butchering the fallen dranth. Arghen, no matter what his status was among the Under-elves now, was still above the Deadmongers, and so they gave him a wide berth.
Arghen shook off his shock. If he was going to survive, he would need equipment. Since his had been taken from him, he would need to scavenge what he could from the dead bodies in order to prepare for leaving. That stopped him for a moment. Leave for where? His whole life, from age fifty until now, had been in Relkanav’s Military. When he thought about it, the answer was obvious. Vernath, the next Under-elven city that wasn’t Halsfere, was a fair travel distance away. It was the only other city-state close enough that he might have a chance to survive getting there on foot. He would have to surrender to the Vernathian Scouts when in their Shifting Tunnels, and then—then his fate would be in their hands. There was no other real choice. The Sub-realms were not designed for loners to live without Under-elven society. It was too dangerous to go alone in the tunnels for long.
Arghen searched his way through the battlefield for the best of what he could find, and the Deadmongers bowed and cowered out of his way whenever he came near. He took what clothes, weapons, supplies and treasure he could find from various saddlebags and the occasional corpse. In a fit of anger he chose to wear a brown and grey Halsferian shirt instead of a red and black Relkanavian shirt from one of his fallen ex-companions, to cut himself off from Relkanav like they had cut themselves off from him. After dressing and armoring himself as best he could, he retraced his steps to where he’d fought his first real enemy. Fortunately the Deadmongers hadn’t yet come to this part of the killing field.
“I know you would not begrudge me this, fair maid,” he said as he took the spear that had fallen beside her body. “I am sorry it had to come to this. You were magnificent, and I am honored to have crossed weapons with you.”
He almost for a moment felt like a ghostly hand had touched his brow. But as he was not a Conductivus who spoke for the dead, he brushed the sensation off as an overactive imagination. After finding a suitable sword, he made a backpack out of a set of saddlebags by sawing one apart and improvising straps for one half of it. For his final act of preparation he swiped some of the already butchered dranth meat from some of the Deadmongers, so that he would not have to break into the Halsferian travel rations that he’d picked up. Arghen started a small fire, cooked his meat just enough that it wouldn’t spoil, then packed it in the top of his pack. By the time he was done it was the start of Darkening. Using his spear as a walking staff he set off for the beginning of the Shifting Tunnels, knowing that eventually he would find a way to the regular travel corridors.
Near the start of the next Dimming, Arghen found himself entering a soaring cavern that was filled with stalactites and stalagmites like the killing field had been. The signs that had been subtly carved on the walls of the tunnel indicated he had reached the end—or the beginning, depending on how one looked at it—of the Shifting Tunnels. From here on out there was possible danger from two avenues. The only reason why Sub-realm monsters and other dangers did not enter the Shifting Tunnels was because the Relkanav Duty Patrols kept the tunnels surrounding the possible entrances clear. He would soon run into a patrol. Arghen knew he would have to be very careful and avoid them because they would question him if they found him afoot and alone. In his present state of disfavor, that would not be wise. Once he was found out to have been banished from Relkanav, he could either be stripped of what he’d managed to scavenge, be taken prisoner and returned to Relkanav and displayed creatively in the Art section of Central Court, or killed outright. But it was better to get himself killed before submitting to the tender mercies of Art.
Arghen decided the best course of action might be to hide here until a patrol came out, trusting to the inherent Under-elven ability of being unseen at a distance, and then follow them out on foot. He would not be able to keep up with them, it was true, but at least he would know they were somewhere ahead of him. If he could make it to another cavern before they came back, he could hide and repeat the same procedure for the next quad. It could take as long as several Brightenings to accomplish this, but at least he’d make it safely out of Relkanavian reach that way. He’d worry about the other dangers he’d face after that.
One concern at a time, he thought, yawning hugely. I had better rest. It has been a long period of time that I have been awake, and I do not think I can take anymore.
Half asleep already, he searched for a good hiding spot away from the casual dranth trails. Climbing up and finding what looked like a scooped-out hollow under a large fallen stalactite, Arghen shoved his pack and his weapons inside and wormed his way around them as far in as he could get. It did not take long for sleep to find him. Arghen slept deeply, for all the uncomfortableness of how he had wedged himself in. It had been a long time since he’d closed his eyes in rest. He didn’t awaken until loud conversation alerted him to the presence of other Under-elves.
“Do you think he is anywhere near here?” asked an unfamiliar voice.
“Maybe. It would be logical. Did you not see him in the Skirmish? He has skills and stamina, but even he has to have his limits,” replied a se
cond.
Arghen lay still. This was it—the Duty Patrol he had been waiting for. But were they going in, or out?
“Captain Petrai would like to see him hauled in, I would bet,” said the first voice, growing louder.
Going out, Arghen thought. Else how would they know of his disgrace?
The voice was accompanied by the sound of a set of dranth claws on rock, which were joined by a second. A pair were climbing the incline that would lead up to him! Arghen lay very still.
“I do not doubt that she would reward the warrior who re-captured him,” said the second voice.
“What do you think would happen to him?”
“I do not know, or care. All I care about is what we would be given in appreciation.”
The claws stopped their scrabbling, but both voices got uncomfortably closer as they fantasized what their reward might be. There was nothing further that Arghen could do. There was no room to squeeze into his hideaway any deeper, and movement at the wrong time might alert the very beings from whom he needed to hide. He held his breath, concerned that even that small motion might reveal him.
“Come on, Edurus, Valens,” said a third voice from much further away, like its owner was down on the floor of the cavern. It sounded impatient. “Arghen Spinam is likely beyond Duty Patrol reach by now. You have had your search, so stop wasting our time and let us be underway. I will not suffer demerits for your greed any longer.”
Near his head a soft susurrus of boots spinning on stone made Arghen realize just how close this Edurus and Valens had come to finding him. A wave of relief swept over him as he listened to the quad mount up and head away, and only then did he release his breath. Fortunately for Arghen the way they headed was out to the travel tunnels, and not back towards Relkanav. Taking advantage of this fact when they were out of Elven hearing, he wormed his way out of his hiding place and followed in their tracks.
CHAPTER 6
Arghen passed through some small caves in the wake of the Duty Patrol, and the sound of galloping made him find a barely-concealed hiding place in a crack in the wall in the second such cavern he entered. It was good that he’d been listening, because not much later the quad he’d been following made their way back through quickly. Arghen could see that one of their number was draped across the back of his or her dranth, obviously hurt in some fight. He wondered if it had been either of the two rewards-seekers. He also wondered what the Patrol had fought, but he didn’t doubt that quad had taken care of it.
But if four well-armed, armored and experienced warriors could still manage to receive a serious injury by one of the many creatures that live in the Sub-realms, I will need to be either very lucky, or very careful to get to Vernath in one piece. Preferably, and probably, I will need to be both, he thought.
With this Duty Patrol now inbound to Relkanav, a new quad would soon be called up as a replacement. He knew he did not have long to make it beyond the usual patrol range. As soon as it was safe, Arghen ran for the tunnels that would lead him to his first personal check point.
Not too long later, in a place that was not quite a cave but bigger than the usual tunnels, he came across what the Duty Patrol must have fought.
Ah, no wonder one of the patrol had been hurt. They fought a Cave Bear, he thought, eyeing the fresh carcass in front of him.
Cave Bears were monstrously big beasts that had the inherent ability to thin themselves out somewhat so that they could traverse the travel tunnels looking for unwary prey. They were known to attack anything that moved, so it was no surprise that the quad had had to fight it. What concerned Arghen was that the Cave Bear was already being eaten. A small flock of bat-winged Pseudolactites had landed on the carcass and were tearing apart the tough white fur to get to the more tender meat underneath. They were six times the size of large bats, colored a dark charcoal grey, and looked like stalactites when wrapped up in their wings. Pseudolactites were true carrion eaters. They did not attack creatures that were still moving, but usually waited until they were sure no more movement would be forthcoming. Pseudolactites hung themselves from cave and cavern roofs looking for an easy meal, and they moved around from time-to-time in search of the aftermath of life-and-death struggles. But if they were hungry enough, even Pseudolactites had been known to fly against something they considered easy prey. And Arghen, alone and on foot, was markedly smaller than any monster in the Sub-realms.
He sidled to the side of the cavern to pass as far away from the Pseudolactites and their meal as possible. He slid along the wall, his eyes firmly fixed on them and showing no fear. One Pseudolactite, the watcher of the group, eyed him inquisitively as he slowly made his way to the exit tunnel on the opposite side. The creature squawked at him when he was about halfway to his goal, which made the rest of the flock look first at the watcher, and then in the direction it looked. Arghen felt unnerved at the regard of all the eyes. But he kept faith in his teachings, and was rewarded when the flock soon ignored him and went back to their leisurely meal. Arghen, however, remained tense and ready until he reached the opposite entrance and had left the flock far behind down the tunnel.
Sometime after his flock encounter, Arghen saw with relief that he had reached the end of a tunnel just before a small cave which bore the marking of the end of the Relkanavian’s Duty Patrol range. He ran with almost a lightness in his step through the small cave, and pushed onward down the opposite curving tunnel until he found a jumble of rocks on which he could perch on to have a celebratory meal. When he climbed up and sat down, he realized that the meal would need to include a rest, because tiredness crashed over him. Despite the sleep that he had gotten while still inside Relkanavian limits, he was exhausted again. But if it hadn’t been for his years of training, he knew he would never had made it this far. Leaning up against the wall and dangling his feet over the edge of the boulder, he slipped his improvised pack off his back and pulled out the first thing that was edible, which was one of the food packets he’d made.
Chewing on the dranth meat, Arghen tried to remember just how it was that he had come to such a pass, but his mind was too tired to latch onto one thought coherently for long. Eventually he gave up and focused on eating. He stopped mid-bite as his ears caught the far away sound of many legs hurtling along the rocky floor coming towards him from somewhere up ahead. Arghen stuffed his meat back into his sack, pulled his feet up, and trusted to his inherent Under-elven abilities to blend into the wall. A multi-legged worm-like creature charged down the tunnel and headed for Relkanavian limits.
Arghen stiffened. A Huek! A large one, and bound for Relkanav whether it knows it or not. The next Duty Patrol will find that beast hard to deal with. If I go and lend my aid, it would be enough to tip the scales into making the encounter easier; which in turn might reflect on me favorably.
Arghen debated with himself on whether to go help the quad coming on duty, or not. Reluctantly he ended up deciding that even if he were to lend his aid, the Duty Patrol might still take him into custody afterward. Then, because of his disfavor, they might forget to mention the help he’d given them and claim the reward that Edurus and Valens had mentioned. Though it went against Arghen’s personal code of conduct, he thought that discretion was the better part of valor in this case. The brief adrenaline surge he’d experienced at the sight of the Heuk wore off, and once again Arghen was bone weary. He curled up to sleep on top of the boulder and trusted to his Under-elven ability to remain unseen by predators until he awoke.
When he rose, the luminescent lichen indicated that it was a Brightening. Arghen was somewhat stiff from having slept where he had, but after a quick meal from the travel rations of the Halsferians, he made his way further away from Relkanav. Soon he came to an immense cavern. Though he had never been here he knew that this had to be a Cavern of Convergence, if only from the descriptions he’d been given. The rock walls were frozen waves of browns and greys that rolled up from the cavern floor to the ceiling far above, which was at odds with the smoothness o
f the floor beneath his boots. The ubiquitous air moss and luminescent lichen were a little sparser than they were closer to Relkanav, making the air a little stuffier and the light dimmer here. Across the floor he could just make out several exit tunnels to choose from on the far side, each of which would eventually lead to a different Sub-realm city-state. That was how, and why, such Caverns had gotten their name. He checked the writing on each of the tunnels and found the one that would lead him to Vernath. He raised his head and eyed the tunnel mouth with steely eyes. This was it. This was him taking his own life into his own hands. There was no guarantee on what would happen when he met the Vernathian Duty Patrol, or its Scouts. He did not hesitate in taking that first step from the Cavern of Convergence onto the road to Vernath, sealing his fate.
Arghen walked for some time down the tunnel, ears alert for the smallest sounds of either a Duty Patrol, Scouts, or a monster coming his way. It just figured that a monster was what found him first.
CHAPTER 7
A scrabbling sound somewhere behind him alerted Arghen to the fact that he was no longer alone. Not knowing the terrain ahead of him, he turned around and, going to one knee, braced his spear for the charge he suspected was coming. He had no idea what it was, but it didn’t matter. Whatever it was, it was closing in on him out of the darkness from the direction of the Cavern of Convergence. It had to be hunting him.
A nightmare on four legs burst into the dimness of the luminescent lichen of the tunnel. Arghen saw to his dismay that it was a Mulwurf. Mulwurfs were hunters of living meat, making hidden dens on the edges of city-states and trying to prey on the Duty Patrols, Scouts, and the occasional merchant train traveling between city-states. Duty Patrols rooted them out on a regular basis, but new ones always seemed to move in when the smell of death of the previous occupant had dissipated. Mulwurfs were about the size of two dranths in bulk and length, and covered in thick black fur that acted like armor—unusual for a Sub-realms dweller. They were sharp toothed, muscled, and double jointed, making them agile in offense and defense. They also had an extra digit on their front claws, which allowed them to swipe or snatch something out of the hold of an unwary Under-elf. But what made Arghen most concerned was that the Mulwurf had poison in its fangs. The poison was a two-parter: one fang held a toxin that made an Under-elf confused and unable to think clearly, while the other fang’s poison paralyzed. Both venoms were released when the beast bit into its prey. Arghen remembered the last time he’d had to help clear out a Mulwurf den—one of his Duty Patrol partners had been bitten, and it had taken him and the other two of the quad some time before they could kill the Mulwurf. But it wasn’t until the next Lightening, long after they had brought their wounded member back to the city-state, that their quadmate had woken all the way up from the poisoning.
Old Disciplines, New Uses Page 3