Into the Heart of Evil (11 page)

The other former yearlings in Gorgon’s team saw
the exchange.  While everyone had a different take on it, it was clear that
their leader was not the same Durik they had laughed and joked with just a
couple of days previous.  Already the burden of command had started to settle
on him.

Manebrow saw the gathering beginning and was
already on the way.  He gave the order to Ardan to have his team prepare to
depart, sure that the rest of the company would follow suit.  Coming to stand
behind Durik, he watched with interest the exchange between Gorgon and Durik,
then followed Durik as he led them apart from the rest of the company and over
to the side of his wolf, where his saddlebag still sat open.  Taking the book
from his saddlebag, he unfolded the sheepskin map that Raoros Fang had given
him in the counsel the night previous.

“I’ve been considering several things this morning
as we’ve been walking.  I don’t really see much talk needed about the path to
tonight’s stop, or for that matter about the rest of the path to the Krall
Gen.  Though I’ve not traveled it before, I know that our two scouts have
traveled it extensively.”  Both Manebrow and Gorgon nodded agreement.

“As such, I think it’s time to get some things
straight,” Durik continued.

Gorgon interrupted, “I know, you’re in charge. 
Got it.”

Durik cut him off, “That’s not was I was going to
talk about, but since you bring it up, let’s talk about it.”  He stared Gorgon
straight in the eyes.  For all his strength and bravado, Gorgon couldn’t meet
his gaze.  “Look, Gorgon,” Durik continued, keeping his tone low enough that the
others would not hear, “I realize that you are the biggest, strongest, and most
skilled warrior in your team.  I also realize that luck turned against you
yesterday and, because of that, I won our battle for the cup.”  Gorgon’s pride
was stung.  “I can’t say that right now I’m feeling the same pain you are.  It
would be false of me to say so.  But, I will tell you that, no matter how you
feel, you are not only a warrior, but an elite warrior and a leader of warriors
in this company.  I rely on you.  In fact, your warriors depend on you to be on
top of your game, to keep them from doing stupid things that will get them
killed.”

Durik’s words were striking true in Gorgon’s
heart, and as he spoke, Gorgon grasped onto the sense of duty that Durik had
revived in his soul.  Looking up, his despondent gaze was leaving, being
replaced by a look of determination.

Durik saw that Gorgon was winning his internal
struggle, and pressed to make the recovery stick.  “Gorgon, I need you.  Can I
depend on you to be a key player on this team?”

Having snapped out of his attitude, Gorgon, the
same Gorgon that Durik had known this past year, held his hammer out to Durik. 
Bowing his head, he said, “Sire, my apologies.  My hammer is yours, as are the
weapons of my warriors.”

The fact that this was the first time Durik had
heard Gorgon use his new title was not lost on him.  He appreciated the massive
effort Gorgon had just made.  Durik grasped Gorgon’s outstretched hand and
patted the head of his hammer.  “I will have sore need of it before long, I
think.  My dear friend Gorgon, I want you to know that, had it been different,
I would have served you with the same allegiance you now swear to me.”

Manebrow saw that the power struggle was now done
and, seeing that the rest of the company was following his orders and packing
up, preparing for their eventual departure, he interjected, “Sire, I believe
the company is almost ready to depart.”

“So be it,” Durik answered.  “I have only a couple
of things I’d like to set straight.  I know we’ve not established any set
procedures for how we travel, nor rules that are particular to our company. 
Looking over this map on the trail this morning, it appears that we’ll be on
the well-beaten path between our gen and the Krall Gen.  As such, I’m thinking
we’ll just go with Ardan and Arloch as scouts like we’ve done to this point.” 
Gorgon and Manebrow listened intently.  “However, I’d like to spread out a bit
more, now that the morning mist is beginning to wear off.  Manebrow, keep your
team back about a hundred paces from the back of Gorgon’s team.  Gorgon, keep
your team back about twenty paces from me and the two that are traveling with
me.  My intent is that, should one of our elements be ambushed, the other would
not be caught in the ambush and would be able to maneuver around behind any
likely attacker.

“On the subject of these wolves that we’ve been
given.  While the rest of the company walks, I’ll not ride, unless out of a
necessity to communicate or some such thing.  I don’t think it right to not
share in the fatigue of the march with our warriors.”

Manebrow looked over Durik’s shoulder at the
assembling warriors.  “Sire, on that subject, let’s take off these wolf-hides. 
I’m sure the morning march will get much warmer before it cools down again this
evening.”

“So be it,” Durik agreed.  “Oh, and before you go
back to your warriors, I’ve not had the opportunity to read much in this book
the Lore Master gave us, but on an initial scan I did see an area marked
‘danger’ to the south of the first night’s resting place.  I’ve already asked
Kiria about it, and she is not aware of what it means.  We will see if they
have more information at the picket line.  Tonight, I want the three of us to
sit down with our company’s lore master and begin to get a handle on what
exactly it is that we’re facing.  We’ll talk more once we reach the first
resting place tonight.”

With a curt, “Yes, sire,” both Manebrow and Gorgon
turned and went back to their teams, finishing their preparations as Durik
packed away the Journal and tightened down his own gear.  A few moments later,
Durik had sent the two scouts forward and the company was on its way.

Durik was starting to grow into his new position,
and it felt good.  The morning mists had burned off, and as he walked the last couple
of hills toward the outpost next to the road at the picket line, Durik’s heart
rejoiced in his first leadership victory as leader of Durik’s Company.

T
he
picket line, as the Kale Gen called it, was not actually a line.  Rather, it
was a series of outposts spread throughout the forest in the general shape of a
large circle that formed a perimeter about a morning’s march in radius around
the gen.  Six years ago, the gen had learned its lesson.  The orcs, who had not
normally come into this valley in any strength, had surprised the gen with a
raging horde of well over a hundred.  It wasn’t the first time the gen had
learned this lesson, but it was the first time in recent memory, and recent
memory was what ruled when a gen’s lord was still young.

In those days, the gen did not have wolf
outriders.  Their only contact with the outside world came from the limited
packdog caravans to the neighboring Krall Gen.  They had not patrolled the
forest surrounding their gen much, seeing little need.  Depending on the wisdom
of his councilors, a younger Lord Karthan had assumed that proper training
alone would keep them safe, ignoring the larger matters of strategy and
security structures.

Before the orc raid, it had been this way for many
years.  Since the orc raid, however, Lord Karthan had taken many measures to
ensure their safety.  He had renamed the Foot Guard, giving them their present
name of Patrol Guard, and given them their current mission, which was to
establish a perimeter at the farthest distance their runners could manage, in
order to give the gen early warning against any attacks.  Additionally, he’d
given the quest to a group of yearlings to tame the great wolves of the forest
for their gen to ride. 

After a couple of years, the Wolf Riders were
established, and Raoros Fang, who had originally been given the quest of taming
the wolves, was made a leader caste and placed in charge of the new unit.  They
had been given the mission of acting as a reactive force to slow down any enemy
who might approach, as well as to patrol the forests between the gen and the
picket line.  Over time, they had also come to establish small resting areas
where they could watch the most likely approaches to the gen.

Now, only a few years after the raids, the tents
that served as outposts had been replaced with a variety of different
structures.  In most locations, the Patrol Guard had set up wooden palisades in
the upper reaches of the tallest trees to keep watch on the perimeter.  Along
major paths, however, they had built log towers, complete with a palisade on
top and reinforced doors and shutters. 

Over the last couple of years, these structures
had served their defenders well.  This was especially evident to Durik’s
Company as they passed the small, shallow lake that sat on the border of their
land along their largest path, and approached the large wooden tower to the
right of it.  Here a wooden tower marked the stepping off point into unsecured
territory ahead.  As if to punctuate the fact, mounted on long wooden poles
stuck in the ground in front of the tower were the heads of a pair of orcs, now
several days dead and well rotted. 

As the company approached, the guard at the top of
the tower called down through the top of the tower to the guards below. 
Presently, two kobolds with spears and shields, one an elite warrior by the
mark on his bare chest, and the other wearing a wolf skin as a hood and cloak,
stepped out of the reinforced door to see who was passing.  Seeing more
warriors than packdogs, the elite warrior haled them.

“And what might the purpose of this group be?” he
asked loudly as the company approached.

Durik came up to the pair and stopped. “This is
Durik’s Company, and I am Durik.  Many changes have come about since you were put
out here, I’d imagine.”

The elite warrior looked in wonder at the still-healing
leader caste marking on Durik’s chest.  “That’s certain.  Weren’t you just one
of the yearling group?  Foxdung!  Are the trials done already?”

“Yes and yes!” Durik said, laughing.  “Well met,
my friend.  We’re on our way to the Krall Gen.  Our quest is to find the Kale
Stone.”

“Well, and welcome to you, I suppose,” the elite
warrior answered as he grasped Durik’s hand.  “If you’re heading that way, I
suppose you’ll be wanting a report of the goings on and news of the road
ahead.  Come, sire, have a look at the map we’ve got on the wall, and I’ll tell
you… and these two I suppose,” he said, looking at Manebrow and Gorgon, who had
come up and were standing behind Durik, “about the goings on in the area.” 

With a nod, the other warrior stood aside and the
elite warrior guard led them into the outpost.

Though the outpost’s map was quite a bit larger,
it was no more accurate than the sheepskin map that Raoros Fang had given Durik
the night before at the council.  Durik had looked over it in a cursory
fashion, but had not fully studied it yet before rolling it out on the table in
the small outpost.  As the outpost’s elite warrior talked of the occasional
bear, the rotation pattern of the Wolf Guard’s inner patrols, and the crossing
points for the Great River, Durik’s gaze kept returning to one spot on the map.

“Tell me about this area south of the first
night’s resting place,” he said as his finger traced a circle drawn on the map
with the word
danger
written over a picture of several low hills in the
center of it.

The elite warrior leaned over the map.  After
several moments, he looked up at his own map as if looking at it for the first
time.  There, plainly drawn on his map, was the exact same marking. 

“Umm… I’m not sure what that’s there for,” the
elite warrior admitted.  “The crew we replaced a few nights ago didn’t tell us
about that, and that wasn’t there a couple of weeks ago when me and my crew
last had to pull shift out here.”  The elite warrior rubbed his chin and
thought for a moment.  “Hmm… well, if you’re traveling directly to the Krall
Gen, I’d say you’ll not have any reason to worry about it anyway.  After all,
it’s not on the main trail.”

Durik shook his head as Manebrow took renewed
interest in the map.  He wondered if there wasn’t more Raoros Fang should have
told him before departing for the quest.  “We’ll have to ensure we stay clear
of that area.”

Troka, Arbelk, and Jerrig all sat in a circle at
the edge of the path.  None of them had gotten much sleep the night before. 
Though sleep deprivation was not something they were unfamiliar with, having
gone several days with little or no sleep during their final two months of
training, they did not feel the need to deprive themselves now.  So, while the
leaders were with the picket guards, the three of them, followed shortly by
most of the rest of the company, propped their heads on their packs and
attempted to catch a few minutes of sleep.

Ardan did not follow suit, however.  It wasn’t
that he was in charge, or that he wasn’t tired.  Rather, he just found it hard
to let his guard down out in the wild, unless there was a guard posted closer
than atop a nearby tower and watch kept where they could do some immediate good.
 Looking up at the sky, he saw a hawk circling in its blue vastness, far out of
sight of whatever its intended prey may be.  It was only a matter of time
before some unsuspecting field mouse found out the price for a lack of
vigilance, and a lack of awareness.

Unlike these other, younger kobolds, Ardan had
spent much time out in the wild lands, guarding caravans and tracking down
nasty things that had passed the picket lines.  Many times his attentiveness to
the basics, such as setting a guard, had meant the difference between being the
hunter and being the hunted.

Ardan walked to the edge of the broad, shallow
lake and smelled the air under the canopy of the oak trees that stood at its
edge.  It smelled of stale, dead leaves left over from last winter, but there
was a hint of budding in the early spring air as well.  The faint, lingering
scent of death from the heads on the pikes near the tower and the scent of fish
guts, remains of what the tower guards had caught for dinner last night, both
added a visceral aspect.

Walking the perimeter of the company that bordered
the forest side of the path, he continued to keep his vigil.  There would be no
rest for him while the group slept.

Kiria was not made for this type of traveling. 
She had obviously lived a much softer life than the rest of this hardened
group.  Seeing that Durik, Gorgon, and Manebrow were not riding their wolves,
she had gotten down off of hers and relieved Kabbak of the duty of leading her
wolf for the rest of the morning.  It had not been easy for her.  Her feet, so
used to the soft sand and worn stone of the caves, had slowly blistered and
bruised from the sharp rocks and uneven terrain of the trail.  The fact that
female kobolds had thinner, smaller scales didn’t help the situation either. 
Now, as she waited with the rest of the company by the side of the path, she
looked over her feet and didn’t like what she saw.  Blisters had emerged under
the scales between several of her toes, and she had several small cuts and
scrapes along the bottom of her feet where some of the scales had been worn
away.

Kabbak had seen Kiria walking strangely after the
stop they had taken for the morning meal.  Though he’d not dealt much with long
foot marches, it was obvious to him what the problem was.  Waiting for the
right moment, Kabbak pulled out a small roll of leather from the backpack that
he’d hastily stuffed full of whatever he could carry last night.  Unrolling it,
he pulled out a needle and sat down next to Kiria. 

Kiria saw the needle in Kabbak’s hand and froze,
eyes wide with fear.  “You’re not going to touch me with that, are you?” she
cried in a desperate tone.

“Now, my lady, the only way you’re going to be
able to keep going is if we drain those blisters.”

Kiria was not convinced.  “I don’t want you to
touch them!  They’ll heal just fine on their own!”

“I don’t think Manebrow would agree with you, my
lady,” Kabbak countered.

Kiria remembered their discussion last night, and
in her mind’s eye, she could already see Manebrow’s reaction when he learned
her feet were blistered.  Steeling herself, she turned her head.  “Just make it
quick, will you?” she conceded, almost crying.

“As you wish, my lady,” Kabbak answered, moving
closer and placing one of her feet in his lap.  He worked quickly.  This was not
a task he particularly relished, and he especially didn’t relish the looks of
the warrior or two who was still awake as they watched him work.  He was done
before Durik and the others emerged from the tower.  Cleaning off his needle,
he placed it back in his kit and rolled it up, placing the roll back in his
backpack.  “Now, you’ll probably have pain where the blisters were for a
while.  Just walk it off, my lady.”

Kiria looked at him with pouting, wet eyes.

“I would also recommend that you switch off riding
and walking beside Starshine.  She looks like she’s taking this walk well
enough, and with how your feet are doing I’d say it’s time you rode a bit
more.”