The Trials of Caste (20 page)

There in front of him, interlaced into the Canticle,
was the destiny of his race.  There in the words of the Canticle the purpose of
his race’s creation was laid bare, and the part that The Creator wanted them to
play in the affairs of this world was made clear. 

Then, as suddenly as this great understanding was
given, it was taken back from him.  It was as if great doors with bars and
locks had closed in his mind.  He was left with only a deep sense of purpose. 
With tears in his eyes, Lord Karthan closed the old journal and sat back in his
chair, breathing a sigh of relief.  Though the knowledge had been taken back,
still the shadow of the power he had felt remained.

As the intensity of the experience began to ebb,
he was suddenly aware that his daughter was speaking to him as she stood there
re-reading the parchment containing Two-Toes’ prophecy.

“Well, if I read Two-Toes’ prophecy right, even
though the map shows that the stone was lost somewhere in the northern valley,
perhaps it, and indeed all five stones, may very well be at Palacid.  And I can
only think of one dwarf tomb where this key to Palacid is, I guess, and that
would have to be in the Hall of the Mountain King up in the northern valley. 
Perhaps that is the quest you’ve been seeking for the yearling group,” Kiria
offered.

Lord Karthan looked at Kiria intensely.  “What?”

“We should send the yearling group to find the
Kale Stone?” she said hesitantly.  Lord Karthan could feel the lingering
confirmation that the idea she offered was not only the course of action he
should choose for the yearlings’ quest, but would begin them all on the path to
fulfilling these prophecies, and their destinies as well.

“Yes!” Lord Karthan stood up.  “The yearling group
shall recover the Kale Stone!”  He knew what must be done, and when he met with
the gen’s council, he knew he would make the decision that would put his gen on
the path toward fulfilling their destiny.

As he stood over his desk, pondering on the now
dead words of the Canticle in his mind, trying to perceive the suddenly hidden
meaning within the ashes of the echoes within his heart, Lord Karthan became
aware of voices downstairs in the entryway to his house.  It was his chief
elite warrior talking with one of the guards, bringing news that the council
was gathered for the deciding of this year’s quest. 

Unaware of the great event which had just occurred
in the chambers of her father’s soul, Kiria stood and walked to the door of the
library to answer the summons for her father.

“
S
even is a good
number for such a task,” reasoned Kormach Manebrow, Master Trainer of the Kale
Gen, before the gen’s council.  “Is this not how it always has been done?”  He
raised his thick, dark reddish-brown eyebrows as he asked the question.  At his
trials of caste many years ago now, he had been given the honor name Manebrow
because of this unique feature which no other kobold had, except now for his three
sons.  Though most honor names denoted a deed performed, the leader caste who’d
given him his honor name had always called him by it, long before he labeled it
an honor.

“Aye, but this is no raid on an orc tribe to
capture a blacksmith!  This is the Kale Stone itself we discuss!”  Khee-lar
Shadow Hand stated emphatically, shaking his arm in a gesture of frustration,
“A quest through unknown peril that could lead them to the very heart of this
race’s beginning!  How could it possibly fulfill the purposes of The Sorcerer
to have the yearlings undertake something so risky?  Did He not advise us in
the Scrolls of Heritage to
Measure prudently the task, and growth will be
thy reward
?”   He paused dramatically before turning from the other leader
caste seated around the semi-circular table that lined half of the council
chamber to face Lord Karthan again, who sat wearing a simple bronze crown on a
high stone chair in between the two halves of the table.

“Aye!” Raoros Fang added his voice to Khee-lar’s,
“And,
He who wastes the strength of His children shall not be counted a
worthy servant!
  This task is beyond them.  It is too much to ask a
yearling group to search the darkest nooks in what must surely be the ruins of
some ancient citadel for a stone that’s been lost for generations now.  And how
shall they travel to Palacid if that is where the stone is to be found?  Are
there not minotaur and orc tribes between here and there, not to mention
degenerate, thieving lesser gens?  Would you have them travel through the
underdark, then, to find safe passage?  As if orcs and minotaurs were not
enough, there are surely darker and more sinister things in the lower deeps!” 

The leader of the Patrol Guard Warrior Group spoke
up, though not as passionately perhaps as Khee-lar and Raoros had.  “Here,
here!  This is a pointless task anyway.  The stone has been lost for too long. 
It is probably gone forever down some deep crevice or another, or sealed up in
some mended seam of earth.” 

Lord Karthan leaned forward on his throne.  Deliberately
ignoring the Patrol Guard leader’s comments, he looked at Khee-lar and Raoros. 
“Yes, Raoros, those are His words as recorded in the Scrolls of Heritage. 
However, is it not written in the third scroll, the Scroll of Our Charge, that
we should
Look to what is thine, to secure it.  Yea, protect thy families,
free the captive, maintain the lands of your inheritance, and keep the ancient
powers I gifted to you in the time that I formed you.
  Surely there can be
no other interpretation than what I propose.”

“Assumedly,” Khee-lar downplayed Lord Karthan’s
comments, “but was it not your own grandfather’s teaching, the same kobold who
took the throne from my ancestors when Lord Kale disappeared, that the stone
will find us in its own due time.”  He paused to look around the room.  “Well,
if it has such power as this, then why do we waste our effort looking for it?” 
There were laughs, albeit strained, from various members of the council. 

Lord Karthan was taken aback.  Khazak Mail Fist
had been telling him that Khee-lar had to be part of the growing conspiracy,
but he’d not wanted to believe that the brother of his lifemate could possibly
be plotting against him.  He’d turned a blind eye to his involvement for too
long, but now he was beginning to realize that nothing else could explain
Khee-lar’s brazen attitude.

Khee-lar’s gaze turned icy cold as he fixed it on
Lord Karthan, “Like joining yourself to my older sister—her memory be revered—this
is nothing more than another attempt by you,” he said pointing an accusing
finger at Lord Karthan, “to solidify your hold on the throne and to keep it
from the remnant of the true Kale blood line!”

All compassion for his lifemate’s brother left
Lord Karthan’s heart.  “Are you challenging my authority?!” he said through
clenched teeth. 

The room went deathly silent.  Though some of them
were complicit with Khee-lar Shadow Hand and his Covenant, Khee-lar’s openly
brazen actions had caught them unaware.  Was he going to strike right now?  It
was a gut-check for everyone in the room, both supporters and enemies of Lord
Karthan alike.  Were they really ready for the insurrection to start right now?

The memory was not too distant for all in the room
to remember the faces of the last potential usurpers to the throne as they were
led bound to the executioner’s block.  Next to Lord Karthan, Khazak Mail Fist’s
mail clad hand was already on the hilt of his sword.  Standing in the center of
the council, Manebrow was anxiously aware of the fact that he was unarmed.

Khazak Mail Fist nodded at Lord Karthan’s chief
elite warrior who stood at the doorway.  Within a few short but tense moments a
contingent of well-armed Honor Guard warriors could be heard reinforcing the
guard on the council chamber doors.  The motive of the act was certainly not
lost on anyone in the council chambers.

Khee-lar began to visibly back down, assuming a
more submissive demeanor than his fiery rhetoric had previously led him to.  He
licked his lips, looked around at the other leader caste, then paused before
turning to face Lord Karthan again.  “Nay.  The throne is certainly yours,”
Khee-lar said.  There was little relief among the group.  “Of course, if the
stone is found, and your blood is not pure enough to wield it…”  Khee-lar’s
voice trailed off.  The acidic comment had only served to increase the tension
in the room yet again.

 “If the stone is findable, and Palacid is not
just an ancient ruin, as my lord seems to believe, then would this task not be
more suited to the greatest of us all” Raoros said, clearly alluding to Lord
Karthan on his throne, “not to a group of yearlings!”

Voices of the council members filled the chamber,
most echoing Raoros’ sentiment.  Among all the voices, however, two kobolds
were noticeably silent, Manebrow and Lord Karthan.  Though the Lord of the Gen
knew that, by law, he did not need the consensus of the council to declare the
quest for this year’s yearling group, he had caused much division among the
council in times past and had wanted to heal that division. 

What he had not seen before, however, was that the
division in the council was becoming much deeper and more deadly.  He wondered
if Khee-lar’s influence among the rest of the council might have grown too
strong already.  Looking from the warrior group leaders on his left, both
present and retired, to the functional leaders on his right, such as the Keeper
of the Treasury, the Herb Master, the Lore Master and such, he saw a lot less
support than he had expected.  Tonight he would use words and others’ logic to
attempt to sway the council to accept his guidance, but in his heart he
believed that it would not be long before broadswords would be needed.

Finally, Lord Karthan spoke, “If I may ask…” he
started.

Standing next to the throne, his large, very
muscular chamberlain bristled at the disorder.  “Silence!” Khazak Mail Fist’s
booming voice echoed through the hall as he pounded the stone once with his
staff of office.  As chamberlain and leader of the Honor Guard, Khazak’s charge
in this setting was clear; to keep order, by the sword if necessary.  “Lord
Karthan would speak!”

All the council ceased their discussion presently. 
There was almost an air of defiance from several of the council members in the
council chamber, and even Khazak’s intimidating manner brought less compliance
than normal.  It seemed as though Khee-lar’s open dissent had emboldened those
who had disagreements with the lord of the gen. 

“If I may ask, Manebrow…” Lord Karthan paused for
a moment to gather his thoughts.  He wondered if, perhaps with a bit of a push,
Manebrow might not provide the arguments needed to persuade the more loyal
members of the council to accept the idea of sending this year-group off to
find Palacid and the Kale Stone.

“Lord Karthan, how may I serve?”  Manebrow stated,
his furred brow raising as he looked from side to side.  He was rocking
slightly as he stood with his hands clutched tightly behind his back.

“Manebrow,” Lord Karthan started, “you know this year-group
is very small, being conceived in a year of drought and famine.  Tell me, what
leads you to suggest that such a small group of yearlings could do this thing?”

Manebrow breathed in, turned his head slightly to
one side then looked Lord Karthan squarely in the eyes.  “As for their number,
a smaller number would have an easier time not attracting the notice of the
larger things in this world.  After all, we’re not attempting to take Palacid
by force, but rather find a stone within it.”  There seemed to be general
agreement on this point, or at least a lack of disagreement.  Perhaps the group
was, in fact, coming back from the brink of open insurrection.  Manebrow
continued.  “However, the matter of why these particular yearlings I have
nothing more than my judgment.  I can explain if you wish.”

Lord Karthan nodded his assent.  “Say on, master
trainer.”

“My lord,” Manebrow continued, “I have trained many
cycles of yearlings now, and have watched each of them as they grow from a
scattered group of individuals to a team.  Sometimes there are a few that form
their own team but leave the rest of the group out, and the year-group as a
whole never comes together.  Now it is true that many fail the individual
tests, but sometimes the strong leave the weaker ones to fail in the group
exercises.  And finally, some groups never learn to push each other, to achieve
more together.”

Raoros Fang stood up, “I fail to see what that has
to do with the matter at hand, Master Manebrow.  Get on with it, will you!”

“I have not seen a yearling group of such
quality,” Manebrow continued undaunted.  “Though they compete for the one
position of elite warrior that the council has allocated for this group, there
is little contention among them.  For the most part they lead and follow with
equal intensity.  Rarely do they take criticism with their hearts; usually they
take it with a mind open to betterment.  There is a sense about them of being
destined for a great work.  It shows in their daily efforts.  It shows in their
attitude.”  Manebrow looked from leader to leader around the table as he talked. 
It was an accurate enough description of the group, though shined up a bit
perhaps for the leader caste of the gen.

“This group has a mix of talent that no other
group I’ve trained has possessed.”  Manebrow held up his hand and began to
count them off on his fingers one at a time.  “Trallik is an exceptional
scout.  Durik and Keryak are trainers of wolves and pack dogs and are mastering
their style with the fighting spear.  Gorgon is stronger than almost any other
kobold in the gen and is formidable with the hammer.  Arbelk can climb better
than most any in the Deep Guard and climbed the cliff known as Sheerface by
hand.”  With the reminder of what had happened upon the yearlings’ return, the
group of leaders began to murmur and talk among themselves again.  “He is very
skilled in the sword, and is only exceeded in skill by Troka.  Jerrig can hit
the center spot at a distance of forty paces with his javelins.”  Manebrow
paused, his voice was loud with the passionate care he felt for his young
trainees.  “Each one is smart, and more focused than most yearlings I’ve
trained.  They are a team already.  Together, they will be able to achieve
great things.  They are ready for this task,” Manebrow finished, wondering if
he’d spoken too highly of the yearlings.  But no, they were his yearlings, and
he decided that he would take nothing back from the words he had spoken.

“Well you speak, Master Trainer,” spoke Lord
Karthan, “and passionately enough as well.”  There was murmuring among some of the
assembled leaders. 

This was playing out better than Lord Karthan had
thought it would.  He had initially thought that he might have to champion the
yearlings, but in Manebrow he had found enough championing… and a means to
distract the council members from the outright dissention Khee-lar had
manifested.  Lord Karthan now decided to push for what he had decided just
before this council. 

“But for all their virtues, they are still a group
of yearlings that has not the benefit of wisdom and temperance that more years
may bring.”  Again, a murmur of agreement, this time from more council members. 
“I think, therefore, that you should go with them.”

There was immediate silence.  All in the assembly
looked at Lord Karthan in stunned silence, not the least of which was Manebrow. 
He was so stunned that he did not realize that Lord Karthan was still speaking
to him.

“You shall provide the experience and temperance
they lack.”  Lord Karthan finished.

After a moment, Manebrow realized that Lord
Karthan was still addressing him, and began to stammer, “Ye… yes, my lord” he
managed to force out.

Khee-lar Shadow Hand stood.  “Lord Karthan, may I
remind you of the Scrolls of Heritage?  Every year-group is given a task to
perform… by themselves.”

“I understand well the Scrolls.  However, I think
the quest for which our Master Trainer has championed this year-group is vital
to the interests of this gen.  As such, I place accomplishment of this mission
over a rule that has been our tradition, but is not law.”  Strong debate
erupted throughout the hall, which for some served to distract and distance them
further from the seditious talk of several moments before.  For others it
brought them closer to Khee-lar’s tone of open rebellion.  Some shouted in
favor of Lord Karthan’s decision, some held the line against it.  After a
minute or more of debate between the many leaders at the tables, Lord Karthan
held up his hand.  He had hoped to handle this better, perhaps to unite the
council rather than polarize it further.  Now he knew what must be done, and he
resigned himself to doing it.