The Game of Fates (53 page)

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Authors: Joel Babbitt

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Young Adult

BOOK: The Game of Fates
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Khazak
Mail Fist reached the cavern where the market closest to the arena was
arrayed.  The news of their arrival had obviously reached here, for everyone
was closing up shop as he arrived and many were disappearing in every direction
they could as he and his fifteen arrived.  They stopped only long enough to
raid a weapons stand of its spears and bows before Khazak drove his little
group straight through the market to the broad passage on the far side that led
to the arena.

“You
will not pass!” a group of no more than ten Deep Guard Warriors stood
nervously, but resolutely blocking the passage.  Not far behind them Khazak
could see the several kobolds who he knew to be Khee-lar’s closest allies
fleeing the arena like cockroaches.  Last of them all, Khee-lar emerged from
the arena, locked eyes with Khazak, then took off running in fear toward the
caverns of the Deep Guard.  Behind him were eight rather young warriors who
were clearly his personal guard.  They were equipped the same as the two he had
killed in the Lord’s House and the impetuous looks on their faces spoke of
their favored status with their lord.

“Khee-lar! 
You imposter!  Stand and fight!” Khazak called after him.

The
ten deep guard warriors who stood in the passageway spared nervous glances back
at their fleeing lord and the Untouchables who accompanied him.  Soon one of
them ran, then another.

Khazak
saw they were about to break on their own, and he called a charge.  Like one,
the sixteen of them surged forward.  By the time they got to the deep guard
warriors, there were only five of them left to oppose them, and those five went
down quickly.

Khazak
did not stop to ensure they were dead.  The warriors behind him, Trallik and
Trikki included, ensured that with the points of their many spears and swords. 
It seemed almost as if Trikki were cleansing herself of the pain stored up in
her heart over the years as she joined Trallik in stabbing the fallen warriors
until their cries stopped and their bodies went still.  Even then, Trallik had
to pull her along with him.  Emotion had returned to her, and the look in her
eye of fear mingled with her own suppressed pain coming to the surface scared
him.  He got her away from the bodies as soon as he saw it.

Khazak’s
little group ran for all it was worth after Khee-lar.  But for all their
persistence, the guards that Khee-lar was able to gather and throw in their
path slowed them down enough that Khee-lar and his entourage made it to one of
the two entrances to the Deep Guard Warrior Group’s home caverns before Khazak
and his little group could block them.  There the chief elite warrior Kram had
already begun to rally his warriors while Kort stood further back in the
entrance, calling for all to gather who could bear weapons and were somewhat
loyal to him, pushing them forward to stand in the ranks. 

At
that moment both Kort and Kram wished that Kort had decided to provide some
sort of leadership to his new warrior group, rather than dithering all his time
away with Lord Khee-lar.  Kort was dismayed to see how slowly they reacted, at
how undisciplined little more than a week of his bad example had left them.  He
realized at that moment that there wasn’t much Kram had been able to do without
a leader caste that supported his training, and who questioned his every move. 
Kort realized all this, and that he’d had his chief elite warrior running the
watch since the take over more than a week before, giving him no time to look
to the affairs of the Deep Guard anyway.  Kort’s realization that he’d set
himself up for failure hit him like a ton of rocks.  Seeing the results of his
failure, Kort said nothing more and simply began to run after Lord Khee-lar and
his entourage, deeper into the caves of the Deep Guard toward the cliff
Sheerface.

From
the far entrance into their caves, not much beyond the entrance where Kram
rallied the Deep Guard, several kobolds who had been recently enslaved or made
concubines by Khee-lar and his minions had taken up arms and were chasing down
several of their tormenters when Khazak and his contingent arrived.  Apparently
word had come before them, causing the uprising.

The
large cavern that served as a gathering point in front of the first entrance to
the Deep Guard’s home was empty when Khazak arrived.  The Deep Guard were
gathering in the entrance to their home, with their backs toward the tents of
their families as they faced off with Khazak and his fifteen.

The
Deep Guard warriors seemed to feel pretty confident.  So far there were almost
thirty of them, and more were gathering as the moments passed.  Then, a group
of thirty warriors arrived.  For a moment Khazak’s group almost panicked, but
then the leader of the group of thirty hailed them.

“Khazak
Mail Fist!  Lord Karthan sent us after you.  Tell us, have you cornered the
traitor yet?”

Khazak
and his handful of warriors grinned in delight at the arrival of the Karthan
loyalists.  In the entranceway, the faces of the thirty or so Deep Guard became
much more grim as they realized they were outnumbered.

“My
thanks to our lord for sending you!” Khazak replied.  “Trallik, take our fellow
former prisoners and go to the other entrance,” Khazak pointed to the far
entrance to the Deep Guard’s caves.  “You thirty,” he called to Lord Karthan’s
loyalists who had just arrived, “you’re with me!”

Trallik
led his small group of warriors and Trikki off to the far entrance where the
slaves and concubines were mutilating the bodies of those they had killed. 
There was much pain there, pain that Trikki could well understand.  When they
arrived, Trikki held Trallik back.

“Let
them alone, Trallik,” she said, a confidence in her eyes and a firmness in her
voice that Trallik had never seen before.  He held up his hand to stop the
warriors who were with him from going forward as the several slaves and
concubines, freed now by their own arms and the appearance of Khazak and his
forces, repaid the injustices dealt them in the short time of Khee-lar’s rule
over them.  On the ground at their feet the Deep Guard warriors who had
supported Khee-lar’s rule had paid dearly for their support of Khee-lar’s
reign.

 

 

“Kram? 
You’re the leader caste of this once-proud group?” Khazak asked in contempt.

“No,
Khazak, I am its chief elite warrior now.  See?  No tower on my right breast,”
Kram corrected him.

“Who’s
in charge here, then?” Khazak asked.

Kram
looked about to see if Kort had returned yet, or if Khee-lar Shadow Hand had
stayed with his group or moved on.  He saw neither of them.  Kort’s voice had
ceased calling out for his warriors almost immediately after he arrived as
well.  Kram was feeling rather alone, despite the almost fifty warriors who
stood behind him.

“Khazak,
I believe I am,” Kram said.

“Kram,
you were always a good elite warrior in the Deep Guard.  You were Bridge Master
of all things!  Why have you thrown your lot in with Khee-lar?”

Kram
shook his head.  “Khazak, you’ll not be convincing me that I’m in the wrong
here.  You know Lord Khee-lar’s bloodline is closest to that of the last Lord
Kale.  By blood right he rules.  You and your small band of loyalists can’t
change that.”

Khazak
desperately wanted to just break past these warriors and catch up with Khee-lar. 
If Khee-lar and some of his closest supporters escaped down Sheerface, he would
always remain a threat to them.  That was something Khazak just couldn’t allow.

“Listen
to me, Kram.  You’ve lost this thing.  The warriors of the gen are rallying to
Lord Karthan as we speak.  The war is over.  Don’t make your warriors die for a
lord who won’t even stand with them!” Khazak pled with him.

Kram
shook his head.  “No, Khazak.  You’ll not trick me like that.  I don’t believe
the warrior groups would rise up against him like that.”  In his heart Kram
ignored the nagging doubt that it was probably true.  In a little over a week’s
time, Lord Khee-lar had managed to destroy all of the gen’s good will for his
rule and most of their trust.  It was a fact he couldn’t dispute.  Nonetheless,
he knew his duty well and would hold to it.

Around
him, warriors began to murmur, wondering if what Khazak had said was true.  But
there were many who knew there would be no forgiveness for them.  Those whose
hands were steeped in blood knew that they had to stand and fight.  The Deep
Guard had birthed Lord Khee-lar’s overthrow of Lord Karthan, and many of them
knew that vengeance would come down without mercy on them if Khee-lar were to
lose the throne.

One
of the more innocent Deep Guard warriors stepped forward, dropping his weapon
as he went.  One of those who knew that he’d die if Karthan took back the gen
shot him in the back with an arrow, dropping him before he took five paces.

“Kram…
all of you!” Khazak pleaded as he held his hand up.  “Come, there’s no reason
to die here this day.  We are all Kale.  Our gen can still be healed.”

The
other warriors in the group who were the core of the Deep Guard Warrior Group,
and who didn’t have blood on their consciences began to look at each other, the
mounting anger in their eyes building as they saw it reflected in the eyes of
those of like mind.  They knew those who were involved in the conspiracy to
overthrow Lord Karthan, and they knew who wasn’t.  They also knew who had done
horrible things, and who hadn’t.

As
one, three of the small group of warriors broke out fighting against the
others.  First among the dead was he who shot the arrow.  Kram commanded them
to stop, but their anger was more than their discipline at that moment.  Soon
everyone had joined one side of the melee or the other.  Kram kept ordering
them to stop and trying to pull warriors out of the fray.  He then jumped into
the fray and tried grabbing weapons from the combatants to get them to stop
fighting each other.  In the middle of it all, one of his warriors stuck a
sword deep into his gut, its point sticking out the small of his back.  Kram
fell face down into the sand.

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.

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