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Authors: Joel Babbitt

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Young Adult

The Game of Fates (45 page)

BOOK: The Game of Fates
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For
the second time in two weeks Trallik’s chest was on fire.  The waves of pain
washed over him, sapping from him whatever strength he had displayed when the
chief elite warrior had looked with contempt into his eyes and pressed the
brand in the shape of a banner over his breast.

Fortunately
for Trallik’s dignity, Kram had left almost immediately, as if the disgrace of
how Trallik had bought his elite warrior status was contagious.  He’d certainly
done it quickly enough; the new banner shaped brand was much lighter than the
sword shaped brand he’d received before setting out with Durik’s Company.

As
he sat there in shock, attempting to recover from the wound, the chief elite
warrior called out “Report to the prison at the end of first meal.  Bring your
gear and draw a spear, young one.”

Trallik
didn’t respond.

“Are
you alright, Trallik?”  Trikki’s subtle voice was tinged with much concern.

“Water,”
Trallik muttered between waves of pain.

Trikki
fetched a cup of water from the barrel next to the brazier.  She moved to hold
it up to his lips, but Trallik immediately grabbed the cup and poured it on the
burning scar on his chest.  Steam rose from his chest, the burning flesh
lapping the water up thirstily.  After quite a while of alternately laying
against the cold stone of the council chamber’s wall and the warmth of Trikki’s
lap, Trallik had finally recovered enough to kneel up on his heels for a
minute.  Finally, with Trikki’s help, he stood.

“Let’s
go,” he said as Trikki grabbed him around the waist and helped him walk.

After
they had walked for a bit, Trikki broke the silence.  “Where are we going?”

Trallik
stopped and thought for a moment.  “I think it’s a little late to go to my
parents’ dwelling.  I think we need to go to the caravan staging area.”

“What’s
that?”

“My
company staged out of there when we were getting ready to leave.  There’s soft
sand.  We can sleep there.”

With
what seemed like a lot of effort, the pair made their way to the outer caverns
of the Trade Warrior Group’s home.  In a testament to the chaos of the last
many days, they passed several guards, one of whom did better for the pair than
they were planning.  He led them to the quarters that the messengers from the
Krall Gen used, which now stood empty.

Despite
his tendencies to not appreciate the efforts of others, Trallik was thankful
for a community of warriors and bed of warm furs after the strain of the last
several days.

 

 

“Trallik…
Trallik, I heard a gong ringing.  What does that mean?”  Trikki was gently
shaking Trallik’s shoulder to wake him.

“Just
a while longer, mother,” he mumbled, only half conscious.

Trikki
giggled, and Trallik bolted upright in the bed.  “Ah!  I was dreaming!” he said
as he rubbed his eyes and blinked.  The cool features of the room became clear
to him with the gray of heat vision, Trikki’s warmth lighting the area around
her with a subtle glow.

She
was probably the only kobold he’d ever seen who looked just as appealing with
heat vision as she looked in the light.  The subtle way the wisps of heat from
her body played with her features and accentuated her already ample natural
curves made him long for her touch.

“You
silly,” she said.  “Now that you’re finally awake, tell me.  I just heard a
gong ringing.  What does that mean?”

“Hmm? 
Oh, yes.  That means it’s time for first meal,” he answered through a yawn.

“Aren’t
you supposed to be at the prison after first meal?” she asked.

“Huh?”
Trallik said, genuinely surprised.

“The
warrior who branded you told you to be at the prison after first meal,” she
answered.

Trallik’s
eyes widened.  “I’ve got to get going!” he said as he stood up.  Finding his
belts and knives, he strapped them to himself.  “What did I do with my food
pouch?!”  He muttered as he looked about himself.

Trikki
lifted the corner of the blanket and picked up the missing pouch, handing it to
him.

“Thank
you, love,” he said and began to walk away.

“Wait! 
What will I do while you’re gone?” she asked.

As
he pushed on the wooden door, he paused.  “Oh, that’s right.  You don’t know
these caves.”  He thought for a moment.  “I don’t know how long I’ll be.  How
about just staying here, or… there’s a market not far from here.  Just ask
directions,” he said as he blew her a kiss goodbye.

Trikki’s
big eyes and pouty look didn’t slow him down.

 

 

Trallik
reported to the same watch room where he and Trikki had reported the night
before.  If there had been any other way he could have gotten to the prison, he
would have taken that way, but the only way to the prison was through the watch
station. 

The
Deep Guard Chief Elite Warrior Kram was still there, and when Trallik showed up
without a spear, he berated him for his incompetence, trying his best to make
Trallik feel that he wasn’t living up to his new rank, which he made clear he
thought Trallik didn’t deserve.

Trallik
took his berating in silence.  Eventually, once Kram saw he was getting no
response from Trallik, he was sent down the corridor beyond the watch station
to the guards’ station for the prison with orders to ‘stand watch, and don’t
feed or attend to the prisoners in any way!’

Arriving
at the guard station, he introduced himself to the particularly sleepy looking
guard who had been posted there during third watch.  The other guard wasn’t
talkative at all, however, and just got up and left now that Trallik had
replaced him.

Soon,
Trallik himself was feeling sleepy.

“Hey,
is that Trallik?” a familiar voice came from one of the cells.  “Hey, come over
here!”

Trallik
looked down one of the two hallways.  Three cells down on the right a
particularly strong-looking hand was waving from one of the tiny windows in the
doors.  His curiosity aroused, Trallik got up and walked carefully down the
hallway until he was looking at Khazak Mail Fist through the tiny window.

“Trallik,
what are you doing here?”

“You
know, Khazak,” Trallik answered the kobold who had informed Durik about
Trallik’s attempted assassination.

Khazak
had a lean, hungry look in his eyes.  He was beginning to lose his dignity. 
His feral instincts were barely concealed behind the mask of his face.

“Yeah,
I remember that.  Bad thing, that whole thing, wasn’t it.  Well, anyway,” he
continued without so much as a pause, “I was thinking to myself ‘What’s a good
kobold like Trallik doing here?’”

“You
know that, too, Khazak,” Trallik said, turning to go.

“No! 
No!  Wait!” Khazak was almost pleading, though his voice sounded more
conspiratorial than desperate.  Trallik was at least amused, if nothing else,
by this reversal of fortunes.  The irony of it all made him linger.

“Trallik,
come on.  Tell me they haven’t got their hooks in you that deep?  You’re
young.  You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.  Tell me you’re not falling
for Khee-lar’s false promises!”

Trallik
shook his head.  “So far his promises have turned out true… though I did have
to help it along a bit,” he said, looking down at the blistered scar
surrounding his other recent scar on his chest. 

“He
made you an elite warrior?” Khazak asked.

Trallik
nodded.  “I guess he rewards loyalty.”

Khazak
was dismayed at the revelation.  He tried one last bid for Trallik’s loyalty. 
“Trallik, come on, let me out of here.  You know Khee-lar is evil.  He and his
followers have raped and pillaged this gen for their own purposes.  Don’t stand
with them, Trallik!  You can be better than that!”

Trallik
just turned and walked back to his post until his relief showed up partway into
second meal.

“I
can have you pardoned!” Khazak called after him.

 

 

Trikki
wasn’t one to sit in a room and pine away.  She’d never been particularly
adventurous, but she wasn’t helpless either.  Eventually, she got bored enough
that she screwed up her courage and stepped out into the hallway. 

No
one there.

She
wandered out of the guest quarters area and found herself in what Trallik had
referred to as a caravan staging cavern, which was essentially a large, empty,
sandy floored cavern they’d come through the night before.  Next to the
entrance she’d come out of stood an empty kennel carved in one wall.  In the
far wall of the place was a kennel full of large dogs, their keepers tending to
them.

Trikki’s
eyes wandered curiously over the empty kennel.  Whatever dogs that had been
there had been hastily removed.  Bowls half full of water, feed rotting in
dishes, cages unkempt and in general disrepair.  She wondered why no one had
seen fit to tend to the place.

“Good
morning,” a voice broke through her introspection.  “You’re the first outsiders
we’ve seen since Khee-lar took over the gen.”

Trikki
smiled at the older, yellow-horned kobold who was carrying a plate of food from
a storeroom near the entrance to her quarters.

“And
good morning to you, as well.  Tell me, where might I find the market here?”
she asked.

“Ah,
first time, I see.  It’s just down that hallway there,” he pointed, and Trikki
went in the direction he indicated.

After
Trikki had disappeared down the hallway, the kobold scolded himself.  “Ah!  I
should have told her where to turn!  Oh well, I’m sure she’ll figure it out.”

Trikki
went straight down the hall, but though she thought she might have heard noises
like a market down one of the side passageways, she just continued down the
hallway.  Soon, she saw a kobold standing guard.  He had a particularly intense
look about him, and Trikki didn’t want to approach him, but he was blocking the
path ahead.

“Is
this the way to the market?” Trikki asked.

“And
why do you want to know?” he leered at her.

“Please,
sire, I just want to buy some food.”

“Where
are you from, pretty thing?”  The guard’s demeanor, added to his extremely
intense gaze, made Trikki very uncomfortable. 

Without
a word, she turned and started to walk back the way she came.

“Hey,
I was talking to you!”  The guard started walking toward her.

“Please,
just leave me alone!”  Trikki pled as she looked back over her shoulder and
began to run.  Suddenly, the guard stopped chasing her and stood erect.  Just
as suddenly, she crashed face first into Khee-lar Shadow Hand’s chest.

“Well,
see what we have here,” he said as he righted the bronze crown on his head. 
“And where are you going, my lovely?”

Trikki
gasped and went down on both knees in front of the kobold who, by his crown,
had to be the lord of the gen. 

The
rather large kobold warrior next to Lord Khee-lar prodded Trikki with his spear
shaft.  “Answer him!”

BOOK: The Game of Fates
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ads

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