Empire of Bones (6 page)

Badron’s Madness

What remained of Rogscroft wasn’t fit to be called a city. Grugnak’s Goblins burned through most of the once proud buildings with ruthless abandon in retribution of their abysmal defeat at the hands of the Wolfsreik. Not even the promise of another fifty thousand Goblins en route was enough to cheer their commander. He authorized, without Badron’s knowledge, the wholesale slaughter of the civilian population. What few Humans remained were hidden deep underground or fled under the cover of darkness.

Grugnak slowly took control of the city and the surrounding areas. The people suffered. Still he felt no better, took no solace from any measure of viciousness extracted. His army lay dead on the slopes of the Murdes Mountains, already buried under fresh snow. What little power he still held was laughable. Amar Kit’han promised a much larger force but they weren’t Grugnak’s. The relief force was a combination of remnants from the Deadlands and from faraway Gren to the east. Grugnak idly wondered how many Goblins were left in the dark, forgotten places of the world.

He marched with half a dozen guards to the former throne room of King Stelskor. The once pristine halls were now caked with muck. Several marble tiles were shattered. Piles of refuse choked the corners. Spiders came down to fill the ceilings with cobwebs. There was no glory left in Rogscroft. Grugnak intended to remake the kingdom in his own image. It started with wresting power away from Badron.

With most of the Human forces abandoning the king in favor of the much liked General Rolnir, Badron stayed locked within the upper levels of the castle. He was fed and seen to. The only real reason Grugnak kept him alive was because he was the figurehead of the entire campaign in the north. No Human would ever submit to the rule of Goblins, at least not willingly. Badron remained important for the foreseeable future.

“The king doesn’t want visitors,” snarled one of the guards outside the throne room. Larger and physically more powerful, the guard would prove problematic for the shorter Goblin.

“There is news from the east,” Grugnak replied.

The guards exchanged cautious looks. Their dislike for the Goblins wore openly as they debated whether or not to admit Grugnak. Finally they relented. “Only you may enter. The others stay out here.”

Unhappy with the decision, Grugnak resisted the urge to order his warriors to attack and humbly followed instructions. Fires dimly lit the expansive room but provided no warmth. Grugnak frowned. The room was always chill, much to his dislike. Badron preferred it cold and dark, often stopping in mid-conversation to confer with an invisible advisor. Today he sat upon the usurped throne with his hands in his head.

Badron was the younger of two sons and never intended to rule Delranan. His father had no choice when Bahr decided to abandon his responsibilities for frivolous adventure. Rumors abounded that he killed his father in order to gain the throne quicker. Badron never bothered giving any definitive answer. What did it matter? He was king and all bent knee to him. His rule was defined by jealousy. Stelskor was an adversary for many decades. Badron wanted everything Rogscroft had: the minerals, the natural resources, and the land. Delranan was too far to the west to be of importance in Malweir. He needed to conquerRogscroft in order to build an empire to rival the rule of mighty Averon in the central south. It was only a matter of time before he invaded. Now, after years of plotting and planning, he sat upon Stelskor’s throne and ruled the declining kingdom with iron.

“I did not summon you.” Badron’s voice was hollow, void of emotion or curiosity.

Grugnak choked back the spit filling his mouth. “I have news.”

Slowly, the king of Delranan lifted his head. His eyes were red. Shadows clung to his face unnaturally, giving him a deathly appearance. “There is always news. Have you come to tell me of the approaching Goblin army?”

Grugnak paused, not expecting to be trumped. “How did you come by this? I only just found out.”

Badron laughed wickedly. “Do not think to inflate your importance, Goblin. I know what your warriors whisper when they believe no one is listening. You will never be my equal. Never! I am a lord of Men and no Goblin has claim to dominion. You are here only at my discretion, regardless of what you think.”

“Fifty thousand Goblins say otherwise,” Grugnak snapped. He briefly considered throttling the demented king but felt that same terrible presence lurking in the shadows. He wasn’t strong enough to battle the Dae’shan. He began to wonder if they offered false promise.

“They’ll never get here in time,” Badron snorted.

“Time for what?”

The king waggled a finger. “Time to help save us. The traitor Rolnir and my Wolfsreik are preparing to march on the city. We don’t have the numbers to stop them, much less delay. My scouts tell me there are close to twenty thousand enemy soldiers.”

Grugnak balked, failing to comprehend where so many had come from. “How is this possible? You did not have so many soldiers.”

“No. I didn’t but Rolnir has joined forces with young King Aurec and those murderous people from the mountains. They will arrive at the city long before your relief force does.”

The implications were terrifying for the Goblin commander. He’d obeyed Amar Kit’han’s summons to leave their dreary stronghold in the Deadlands only to see most of his army destroyed, betrayed by the very Men he’d been promised would help. Now those initial dreams lay in ruins and were potentially coming undone further with the enemy marching on him. Craven instincts urged him to take what few surviving Goblins he had left and flee back to the Deadlands. If they were caught here….

“Don’t have the gall to stand and fight, eh?” Badron teased upon noticing the cagey look in Grugnak’s eyes. “I don’t blame you, but it won’t do any good. Aurec is going to unleash the wolves against us, Grugnak. Ironic isn’t it? Getting killed by my own army. The gods have a twisted sense of humor.”

Grugnak didn’t care about gods. He only wanted to live long enough to see his race rise above the prejudices and handicaps enforced by Men, Elves, and Dwarves. For too long the Goblins struggled to survive. He knew their origins. That they’d been Dwarves once, before dark powers ensnared them. Time and endless devotion to their new gods twisted the colony until they became Goblins. To this day every Goblin longed for the time when he could live above ground and feel the sun’s kiss. It was a foolish dream.

“What does the Dae’shan have to say?” the Goblin asked.

Darkness and shadow coalesced into the hovering, gaunt figure of Amar Kit’han directly behind the throne. Grugnak snarled while Badron didn’t bother looking. The wraith-like Dae’shan was an ever present whisper in his mind’s eye. Ice-colored eyes penetrated the gloom forever dominating his cowl. He radiated power, electricity dancing off his ethereal form. Amar Kit’han personified evil. Relentless, driven evil.

“You should be more careful when using my name, Goblin,” he scolded with a raspy voice. “I am not so forgiving as others.”

Badron winced, knowing there was nothing forgiving about the former Man. “He merely wished council on these new developments. What does the mighty Dae’shan have to say?”

“Rolnir betraying you was inevitable. He is a Man of great character. To do any less would be a permanent stain upon his soul. That he could coerce the bulk of his army to turn with him says a great deal. You chose wisely in making him general of your army.”

“Wisely? He’s gone over to the enemy and left me with bones!” Badron all but screamed.

Amar casually floated around the throne. “Bones? He’s taken a great weight from you and left you open to new beginnings. The Wolfsreik was never the end, merely a means to your further evolution. They were bound to turn on you when they realized Rolnir didn’t share your belief system. Proud Men often fail to see the grander schemes of life.”

“You forget to mention how they nearly wiped out the entire Goblin army in Rogscroft in the process,” Badron countered.

“That was a…regrettable act,” Amar said and paused in midsentence. Truthfully even he hadn’t foreseen the ferocity of the combined army’s attack on the Goblin army. Goblins were fighters, but not warriors. They lacked the training and discipline necessary to achieve the greatness of armies like the Wolfsreik. Losing them was unfortunate, but each death served to further his purpose. Time was running out and there was still much to do in order to prepare the gateway at Arlevon Gale for the return of the dark gods.

“Regrettable!” Grugnak roared. “My people destroyed for what? A madman’s glory?”

“Now Grugnak, King Badron, or should I say, Emperor Badron, is hardly a madman. His quest to unite the kingdoms of Delranan and Rogscroft under a single banner was bound to endure massive casualties. An entire way of life needs to be subsumed in order for the greater enterprise to exist. Rogscroft has died so that Badron can make his dreams come to pass,” Amar explained, knowing most of his rationale went beyond the Goblin’s grasp. He marveled at the primitive culture. How had they endured for so long while the rest of the world passed them by? The probability of such was limited, making them a conundrum to his attuned senses.

The Dae’shan continued, “You are forgetting the one unifying truth of us all. We are here to bring enlightenment to another people. Goblins and Men working together hasn’t been seen on Malweir in our entire history. These are times of great honor. With that honor comes responsibility. Are either of you willing to sacrifice it all?”

Badron held out his palms. “Look around you, Amar, I already have. My army is gone. I sit on a throne of lies and my own kingdom has been usurped by the one Man I thought was my closest ally. You bring another army that proved useful for a while, but they too were stolen from my grasp. I am a powerless king. A haunted figurehead of something I still don’t understand.”

“Such is truth about many great leaders,” Amar said politely.

Grugnak fumed with unbridled aggression. “I have nothing. My army is destroyed. The time has come for me to leave.”

“Are you forgetting the new Goblin force even now marching from the Deadlands?” Amar taunted. “When was the last time you heard of such strength in Goblin numbers? Never. You have given them something they never dreamed of. They are suddenly important and awake. Kingdoms will tremble under their boots, Grugnak. Don’t be so foolish as to dismiss this unlocked potential. Even if they don’t follow your command.”

The Goblin’s eyes narrowed threateningly, even though he was no match for the impossible powers of the Dae’shan. Feeling helpless, Grugnak meekly stood by while the monster hovering before him continued to dissemble.

“It’s not about who commands the sheep, but who stands atop the pedestal when the dust settles. Others have tried to accomplish what you are so close to. The Silver Mage nearly succeeded, but was found wanting. The crystal of Tol Shere proved too much for his limited mind to comprehend. It drove him mad and was regrettably lost when a small band of heroes were coerced to stand up to him.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Badron asked. He failed to see how the abysmal performance of one Man was comparable to his long-term suffering.

“One Man cannot succeed alone,” Amar answered too quickly for Badron’s liking. “Therein lays the great failing of Mankind. Your lack of vision hampers any ability to achieve true greatness. Would you cripple your campaign to control the north? To turn it into an empire rivaling mighty Averon to the south? All your life you’ve plotted, impatiently waiting for this day, and now you so willingly abandon it? This is one of the reasons I gave up my mortality. The acuity of your dreams is a waste of precious life spark.”

“I did not ask you to bandy words of pettiness over my character, demon,” Badron retorted. “I need counsel. All of my advisors have abandoned me. Even fortune has turned her back, leaving me you.”

Amar held up a hand, his bony fingers glowing in the faint light. “Mind your next words. Lesser Men have suffered worse for such.”

“You offer platitudes and fragmented wisdom but no clear path out of the darkness,” Badron said with measured tones. “Where is the end? The way out of this building nightmare? I need answers, Amar Kit’han. Not mixed words meant to confuse.”

“The toughest answers must be found from within. No outside influence is capable of enlightening you,” Amar replied.

Badron lowered his head into his hands in defeat. “Then I have no choice but to abandon the city before Rolnir arrives.”

“Minor defeats are to be expected along the way, King,” Amar soothed. “Perhaps leaving Rogscroft is your best answer. The Goblin army will not arrive in time. In fact, I’ve given instructions for them to bypass this ruined city at all costs.”

“You betray me, demon.”

Lightning flashed, blinding Man and Goblin. Heat sizzled off the Dae’shan’s black robes. “Enough! The Goblin relief force must arrive in Delranan intact. They will have a hard enough time crossing Dwarf lands. I don’t need them wasting unnecessary lives here in what is sure to be a pointless conflict. Take what forces you have left and flee towards the mountains.”

“The mountains? You are trying to get me killed,” Badron accused. He no longer saw hope. The dawn would come and claim him, leaving his corpse to the wolves. “Even should we make it that far, the Pell Darga will fall upon us before we can begin the climb.”