The Game of Fates (51 page)

Passing
through the courtyard, the group arrived at the large iron-banded double wooden
doors on the far side without alerting anyone.  Khazak slowly, quietly turned
the handle of the door.  It opened with a click and Khazak pushed the door
open.  Motioning for the party of warriors to follow him, Khazak pushed into
the Lord’s House. 

Inside
was perhaps the most simple, yet elegant display of architectural beauty
Trallik had seen in his entire life.  Modeled after pictures in the gen’s
library that spoke of Palacid, the stone through which the front entranceway
had been carved was cut into the shape of pillars and arches, spaced a little
more than four paces apart down the entire length.  Between each set of
rough-hewn pillars on either side of the wall were pedestals, also carved out
of the wall, with intricately inlaid copper and glass vases on them.

At
the end of the hallway, the entrance opened into a great open room with a
hallway leading from it on either side, a staircase leading up to a balcony
that overlooked the entire chamber, and a pair of doors, one on the balcony and
one directly below it.  Scattered around the floor of the great room were piles
of furs and pillows.  On these many cushions sat or lay several of the most
beautiful females of the gen.

Trallik
recognized many of them.  Some of them were the lifemates of warrior group
leaders.  Most of them, however, were females who were barely at the age where
they could be mated, though Trallik saw Durik’s little sister Darya sitting in
a corner crying and knew that Khee-lar Shadow Hand had not held to the minimum
age dictated in the Scrolls of Heritage when he picked his concubines.

On
the staircase leading up to the balcony a pair of warriors had a female by
either arm and were dragging her bodily up the stairs.  Though she’d obviously
been beaten and bloodied, she still fought her captors’ efforts to get her into
the bedroom at the top of the stairs.

“Where
is Khee-lar Shadow Hand?!” Khazak roared out.  The two warriors on the stairs
stopped and turned in surprise.  Many of the females jumped at his voice, the
less submissive ones cried through swollen eyes or bloody mouths.  The female
they were dragging cried out as the warriors wrenched her bruised arm. 
Trallik’s heart leapt in his chest; the voice was Trikki’s.

 “Where
is that traitor, Khee-lar Shadow Hand?  Tell me!” Khazak yelled again.  For the
first time, the many females in the room began to realize that these warriors
weren’t here to abuse them, but rather to save them.  As one they began to
stand up.  Just as quickly, the pair of warriors realized who he was, and began
to climb the stairs faster.

“Sire,
two of his warriors are here, but he has gone to the arena, I think.  Are you
going to free us?” one of them cried.

“Warriors! 
Are you Khee-lar’s, or will you swear allegiance to Lord Karthan?!” Khazak
bellowed out fiercely, his eyes staring intently at the open doors on the
balcony where the two warriors had disappeared with Trikki.  He already knew
the answer, and his question was more of a challenge.

Grabbing
his spear with renewed intensity, Khazak and Trallik rushed up the stairs,
followed closely by several of their companions.  As they reached the open
doors of Lord Karthan’s bed chamber, they were greeted by the sight of the two
warriors, two of Khee-lar’s Untouchables, standing with spears at the ready.

Trallik
looked around the room in desperation until his heart leapt at the sight of
her.  Trikki sat rocking back and forth in a corner, holding her knees up to
her chest, her hornless head buried in her arms and a bloody rag clutched in
one hand.

“Trikki!”
Trallik called.

When
she heard his voice, she immediately looked up, the look of despair on her
bruised and bleeding face melting into pain mingled with hope as she recognized
her love.  Seeing him, she began to rise.

One
of the Untouchables turned to her.  “Stay there or we’ll cut you to pieces!” he
yelled.  Seeing she was sufficiently cowed, the Untouchable turned back to the
growing crowd of warriors, few of which were armed, but all of which had death
in their eyes.

At
that moment Khazak stepped forward and threw his spear.  True to their status,
his able target dodged to one side, but not quickly enough.  With a sound like
ripping cloth, the spear tore the muscle from the Untouchable’s left breast and
pierced his left arm, knocking the warrior to the ground with the force of the
impact where he lay stunned and gasping.

The
other Untouchable immediately dropped his spear, drew his sword, and headed
toward Trikki in the corner of the room

Trallik
sprinted toward them, but stopped cold as the Untouchable grabbed Trikki around
the neck from behind and held his sword to her back.  Trikki’s eyes showed pain
and fear as she clutched the bloody rag closer to her breast.

“Stand
back!” the Untouchable commanded.

Trallik
quickly stopped and took a step backward, holding out his arms to urge those
who had surged forward with him back as well.  The Untouchable on the bed was
clearly taking a moment of desperation to think, so Trallik held his hand up.

“Please
don’t hurt her,” he pleaded.

“Do
you know her?” Khazak Mail Fist whispered next to Trallik, the recently
recovered spear in his hand dripping blood from the other Untouchable.

The
look in Trallik’s eyes told Khazak everything.  This was Trallik’s lifemate
he’d spoken of.  Khazak took a couple of steps to the side to where the other
Untouchable lay bleeding out his life on the stone floor, never taking his
attention from the drama playing out around him.

“Please,
we’ll let you go free!” Trallik pleaded.  “Just let her go.  I promise you
we’ll let you go!”

“How
can I be sure of your words?  I think you’ll betray me the moment I let her
go.”  The Untouchable pressed the point into the skin of Trikki’s back.  The
grimace of pain in her eyes and her muted cry almost brought Trallik to his
knees.

“No,
no!” Trallik’s eyes were large.  “Come, you can take her with you to the
entrance.  We’ll not track you.  You have my word on it.”

The
Untouchable seemed to be seriously considering Trallik’s words.  He whispered
something into Trikki’s ear.  The two of them stood up together, the
Untouchable pulling the sword away for only a moment to steady himself with
that hand.

In
that instant Khazak flung the sword from the other Untouchable’s belt toward
the hostage taker.  It struck true, piercing the Untouchable’s forearm and
lodging a finger’s distance into the Untouchable’s stomach.

Crying
out in pain, the Untouchable’s sword dropped from his nerveless hand.

In
a flash Khazak was at his side, kicking the legs out from under Trikki and the
Untouchable.  Grabbing Trikki by the arm, Khazak flung her into Trallik’s
waiting arms.

Raising
his spear now in both hands, Khazak plunged it down through the Untouchable’s
stomach, the force of the impact knocking the breath out of his target and
lodging the spearhead deep into the crack between stones in the floor.

The
deed was done, and Khazak stepped back to ensure Trikki was alright.  Trallik
had already gathered her into his arms, however, and was holding her to him
with a look of pain and relief.

After
a few moments of crying into Trallik’s shoulder, Trikki pulled back, the bloody
rag in her hand held up.  “Trallik, they made me bleed.”

“It’s
alright, Trikki, we’ll put some poultice on your cuts.  They’ll heal soon
enough.”

Trikki’s
pain was deeper than that, however.  She looked up at him with the eyes of one
who has lost a part of herself.  “No, Trallik, you don’t understand.  The baby…
they made me bleed.  I’ve lost the baby.” 

The
tears were shed, the realization was past, Trikki was numb for the moment. 
Trallik didn’t know what to say, and was relieved when Trikki, eyes wide and
empty, lay her head against his shoulder, still clutching the rag to her
breast.

Khazak
saw the pain and stepped forward to speak soothing words, but thought better of
it.  The two lifemates were joined at last, and there was nothing more for him
to do for them.  He now had to carry on the insurrection.

Turning
to the rest of the warriors who were with him, Khazak Mail Fist spoke.  “My
friends, our work here is done.  We must go now and carry on the insurrection!”

Grabbing
weapons from the two fallen warriors and from a weapons rack on the wall, the
small party began to file out of the room.  Trallik didn’t even notice until
Trikki pushed away from him.  The look in her eyes was detached, almost
dreamlike as she dropped the bloody rag and turned around.  Taking a long knife
from Trallik’s belt, Trikki looked at the two Untouchables who had brought her
here, beat her and abused her.  Seeing that the one who had held her hostage
had already expired, Trikki walked toward the other who lay moaning on the
floor.  Kneeling next to him, she grabbed his head by a horn and exposed his
neck.  Looking into his eyes with a look devoid of any emotion, Trikki plunged
the knife into the Untouchable’s neck.  She stood then and, seeing there were
more weapons on the rack, she took a sword and belted it around her torn
clothing.

Trallik
had stood there speechless during the entire episode.  Finally, regaining his
composure, he retrieved the long knife from the neck of the Untouchable,
cleaned it, and resheathed it.  Seeing Trikki walking toward the door, Trallik
followed, wanting to wrap an arm around her shoulders as they walked, but not
fully understanding the change that had overcome her.  Looking back at the
scene one last time before hurrying out the door, he saw the rag she had
clutched now lying in a puddle of the Untouchable’s blood whom she had killed,
the blood from her womb mingling with that of the mangled corpse.

Down
in the main chamber, the females’ joy in being free had quickly mixed with the
terror of uncertainty and war.  “Please, don’t leave us here!” Darya, Durik’s
little sister pled with Khazak Mail Fist.  Many of the others echoed her cry.

In
his heart Khazak knew he couldn’t leave these terrorized victims of Khee-lar’s
rule in their wretched state.  Some of them were the lifemates of fellow
council members he’d served with for several years.  He could only imagine what
had happened to their lifemates.  Yet at the same time, he needed every one of
the warriors he had with him.

Reluctantly,
he turned to two of the warriors who had accompanied him here.  “You two, stay
here with them.  Lock the gate and bar the door.  Arm them if you can find
weapons for them.  Gather stones if nothing else.  But whatever you do, by your
lives don’t let Khee-lar and his warriors in.”

The
two warriors nodded grimly.

“Trallik,
are you coming or staying?” Khazak asked as he pulled more spears and swords
from a side closet, passed them out, then ushered the rest of the warriors out
of the room.

“Let’s
go, Trallik.  I must leave this place,” Trikki said with an eerie, detached
calmness.

“I’m
coming.  We’re coming,” Trallik answered, care for his love, lost somewhere in
a world he did not understand, making it hard for him to focus on anyone else
but her.

Khazak
grabbed the last spear and threw it into Trikki’s hands.  She caught it without
a word.  “If she’s coming, she’ll be needing a spear,” Khazak said
matter-of-factly.

Trikki
accepted the spear without a word, and without a hint of emotion showing
through the numbness of the pain she had already experienced that day.

Grabbing
her other hand, Trallik followed after Khazak and his thirteen warriors.

“Wait!”
Goryon hissed as he raised a hand to halt the line of warriors who came up
behind him.  He could hear the sound of many feet coming down the passage to
his left.  At his command, Lord Karthan’s other four personal guards raised
their bows with him and the five of them waited for whoever was approaching to
show themselves.  Behind them, Lord Karthan held his breath as the first of the
kobolds came around the corner.

“Khazak?!”
Lord Karthan stood up straight.  “You’re alive!”

Khazak
Mail Fist turned to his right, spear at the ready until he saw who was
addressing him.  “Sire!  I see they didn’t succeed in killing you either!”

Lord
Karthan stepped through his personal guard and embraced his chamberlain and
head of his Honor Guard Warrior Group.  “Khazak, I thought they killed you with
the others at the first night’s resting place!”

“No,”
Khazak shook his head slowly.  “They tried, but like everything Khee-lar’s ever
done, he did a poor job of it.”

Lord
Karthan laughed.  It seemed for a moment as if the tension of the last several
days was gone.  “I, for one, finally appreciate his shoddy work!”