The Madness of Gods and Kings (30 page)

Severed Ties

The ground trembled, rippling for leagues in every direction. Birds erupted from forests of trees by the hundreds, fleeing what came next. Animals ran away or burrowed deep underground. The very ground struggled to crawl away from the madness working through the world. Lighting struck down from clear skies. No clouds were in sight yet the thunder and lightning was so prominent any unfortunately caught within earshot fell to their knees with blood streaming from their ears.

Wails of long tortured souls echoed on the wind. Pain and suffering trembled from every tree, rock, and bush. The world had gone mad and fifty thousand Goblin warriors with it. They howled. Clashing swords and axes on rusted shields. Boots stomped a wicked song. They sensed their hour had come. No longer would their race be forced to suffer in the cold confines deep underground. Their armies would sweep across the world, destroying Men, Elves, and Dwarves in droves. All Malweir would burn.

Thrask stood atop the small hill surveying his army. They were ragtag at best, the painful reminder of how far his kind had fallen. Abandoned by the gods, Goblins endured through sheer willpower. Reviled across Malweir by all but the worst races, they toiled under the harshest conditions, bereft of the enjoyment others took for granted. Thrask aimed to change that.

There’d been other Goblins with such aspirations. All fell into ruin, incapable of rising to the challenge. Scourd once thought to contend with the will of the Silver Mage and the dragon Ramulus. His death had faded into obscurity, now all but anonymous. The last had been Grugnak. His failed incursion into Rogscroft brought great shame to the Goblins. They washed his memory away, eager to reclaim glory. The bodies of the old would be ground underfoot. Crushed into oblivion’s cold embrace. Thrask aimed to wash the stain of the Goblin’s failures and build an empire on the corpses of the world.

“This will be a day long remembered by the Goblins,” Kodan Bak whispered from behind the Goblin Lord. “Abandoning darkness has the potential to carry your kind far.”

“As far as the ten thousand who foolishly followed you?” Thrask demanded. His thick chest muscles were exposed to the cold. Harsh, grey skin tinged pale blue. His bottom right tusk was broken. The memory of losing it all but faded now. He vaguely recalled tearing out a rival’s neck but little else.

Thrask was a pure warrior. The Dae’shan went to great lengths to ensure his martial understanding and command of the common tongue were developed well beyond the rank and file of his people. His malice and hatred were natural. They carried him up through the ranks. Hundreds of competitors were butchered during his rise until he alone stood at the top. Grugnak proved an able lieutenant but nothing more. Sending him west with the first wave was the logical move. Hearing of his demise removed a potential rival and paved the way for Thrask to rouse his tribe in a wave of hatred.

Savage as he may be, Thrask had no intentions of allowing his force, the strongest ever fielded by the Goblins, to be wasted on poor tactical decisions. Goblins were not pawns. Not any longer. Their anger threatened to crush the world of Men but it was not yet substantial enough to ascend. The battle with the Dwarves and Elves along the riverbank proved that. He’d never seen such weapons as those filthy Dwarves deployed before. The sound of thunder still echoed in his ears. Unfortunately both field pieces were destroyed before he could claim them, their barrels unsalvageable.

Thrask well knew the treachery of Dwarves. Once from the same genetic stock, Goblins became the lesser kin to a more dignified race. He aimed to change that. It was past time Dwarves were relegated to the dismal pages of forgotten memories. His mind already raced ahead to confiscating some of those terrible Dwarven weapons. Imagining what his army could do with such power blazed hotly in his eyes. First he needed to lose the yoke of Dae’shan captivity. The Goblins’ enslavement to the eerie creatures must end if he was to gain a true crown.

“Grugnak was capable enough. No one can fully account for treachery,” Kodan Bak soothed, his voice a serpent nest of lies. “He played his part in this war. Will you do any less?”

Thrask wheeled on the Dae’shan, ignoring the fact he’d be incinerated well before he ever laid a claw on those foul robes. “My honor is unquestionable. Many have died for less.”

“I did not seek to rouse your ire, Goblin Lord. These are troubled times. Uncertainty lies in the minds of most. Kingdoms have fallen. A new order rises. You have the potential to rise above all of your predecessors. All you have to do is extend your sword and the world can be yours. Too many have fallen into ruin for failing to do so.”

“Too many were not Goblins,” Thrask growled harshly. Spittle dripped from his lower lip as he ground his teeth. “Will you uphold your promises? I want Malweir to burn.”

“Our goals align. Amar Kit’han has paved the way for your army to assume control of both Rogscroft and Delranan.”

Thrask gestured towards the surrounding forest. “We already occupy the eastern portion of Rogscroft. What has your commander provided we cannot take for ourselves?”

“Perhaps you wouldn’t be so smug if Thord and his army from Drimmen Delf had been arrayed against you at the Fern River instead of a mere handful. Look at the damage a hundred Dwarves caused you. How many hundreds dead and hundreds more wounded? A savage waste of fighting strength.” Kodan unfolded his arms, anticipating an attack. Goblins were brutal and savage, but ultimately predictable.

Thrask balled his fists. He imagined ripping the Dae’shan to bloody shreds but knew it was next to impossible. They were the chosen servants of the dark gods, impervious to mortal harm. Only a Dae’shan or higher power was capable of killing another. Instead he snarled, “My fight is with the world of Men, not you. What promises does Amar Kit’han offer that I cannot achieve on my own?”

Slightly disappointed, Kodan refolded his arms. “Simple. Your army will never reach Delranan in time to be of any value. Our enemies will have already established strong defenses and be prepared for you. Furthermore, crossing the Murdes Mountains in winter is next to impossible. Your entire army would be dead long before you ever set foot on enemy soil.”

Thrask growled menacingly. “You don’t offer encouragement.”

“Amar Kit’han plans to…transport your entire army, all fifty thousand, behind enemy lines in the middle of Delranan. Once this is accomplished you will be able to sweep our enemies from the field and claim dominance on the ruins of that kingdom. All he asks is your loyalty when the time comes.”

The Goblin Lord contemplated this. It was an unusually vague request with potential dire consequences for his army, but one he couldn’t afford to waste. The Dae’shan offered to reduce weeks of foot marches, though how was beyond his level of comprehension. He focused on his army arriving in Delranan in prime fighting condition and with the element of surprise. The world would change in the span of a day.

“Very well,” he answered, knowing there was no real option. “The Goblin army marches at your command.”

Smoke and electricity exploded between the two, knocking the powerful Goblin backwards. When he cleared his eyes of the grit coating them Thrask stared at Amar Kit’han and a small Human female. He snarled and reached for his sword.

“Not my command, Thrask,” Amar Kit’han hissed. “But hers.”

“Why should I take orders from one I am sworn to kill?” he countered. The blade slipped inches from the scabbard.

Smiling harshly, Amar replied, “This is Princess Maleela, heiress to the throne of Delranan. She has but one desire: the murder of her father, the king.”

“She is Human,” Thrask protested, taking a step forward.

Maleela, tilting her chin back defiantly, pointed an angry finger at the Goblin. “I have fought and killed better than you, mud dweller. You will obey my commands, help me achieve vengeance, and for that I will not set my conquered armies against you.”

Thrask admired her audacity, all the while planning her death. “Why should I trust a Human? You have the stench of treachery about you.”

“I don’t require your trust, only your swords. Disobey me and I’ll have the Dae’shan reduce your army to ashes where they stand.” Maleela, at barely five feet tall, looked the Goblin in his cold, dark eyes. There was no give in her. Not any longer. She became as tempered as the blade at her hip.

“There will be no alliance between Goblin and Man,” Thrask warned. “Your kind has betrayed mine far too many times.”

Maleela cocked her head slightly, unsure of what he meant. It mattered not. Whatever deviations her father led them through were his issues to deal with, not hers. She had but one goal: destroy Badron and the Wolfsreik. The Goblins could fend for themselves once they assisted accomplishing her goal.

“I see no allegiance,
Goblin
,” she seethed, her words careful, measured. “I want your cooperation, nothing more. Once I’ve achieved my aims you can do whatever your black heart desires. I care not.”

Recognizing strength, as well as the unfiltered opportunity to slaughter hundreds if not thousands of Men, Thrask tipped his head in acquiescence. “It shall be so,
your highness
.”

Amar Kit’han watched the scene play out with mild interest. His creation was much stronger than Badron or Harnin ever proved to be. She was the anvil on which a new empire would be hammered, an empire of pure darkness once the dark gods returned to assume their rule. With her as an instrument, the dark gods would slay all who opposed them. Malweir would be theirs once again. It began here in eastern Rogscroft.

“We await you, Dae’shan,” Maleela said, turning to Amar. “Open the portal.”

“Magic?” Thrask asked suspiciously.

Amar ignored the Goblin. Instead he slid down the hill and went to the largest open area in the vicinity. Ranks of Goblins recoiled, ever eager to be away from the nightmare the Dae’shan represented. Some evils went beyond the scope of mortal comprehension. Amar Kit’han ignored them all. Fools and murderers, the lot. Each Goblin was as insignificant as the tide in so far as he was concerned.

He raised his arms shoulder level, hands extended beyond the cuffs of his robes. Tendrils of electricity bounced across his fingertips. All noise ceased suddenly, leaving the gathered army trapped in a void between worlds. Several Goblins dropped to their knees. Blood streamed from eyes and ears as the Dae’shan built waves of magic within. What he attempted hadn’t been done in thousands of years. If he was successful in opening the ways between worlds, there was no promise all of Thrask’s Goblins would survive the journey. Dark, powerful creatures lurked in the shadow paths, eager to snatch the unsuspecting traveler.

A hole opened in the air. A rent, tearing the fabric of reality. Gone were the trees and snow-covered fields. Blackness filled the rent. Screams rippled through, suggesting violence and despair in equal measure. Such sounds shouldn’t be heard by mortals, of that Maleela was certain. Only the strength imbued, without her knowledge, by the Dae’shan allowed her to remain largely unaffected.

Growing larger with each passing moment, the rent quickly became wide enough to funnel ten abreast through. Amar Kit’han gradually lowered his arms. Flashes of red and green power tainted the rent’s edges. The surrounding ground was scored, deadened. The Dae’shan returned to his previous position beside Maleela and bowed reverently.

“It is done. Move your army through.”

“What awaits us on the opposite side?” Thrask asked. His mistrust continued to rise.

Amar Kit’han feigned exasperation. Goblins were ever the cantankerous lot. Dealing with them stole years off his life, so to speak. “Delranan.”

“This had better not be a trap,” the Goblin Lord replied and loped down the hill.

If it is you will never know. Fools. Had you any inkling you were no more than puppets you wouldn’t be so eager to march into slaughter. The dark gods have no need of your filth any more than the supplication of Men. You will all die upon the whims of your betters
.

“Will you not join him?” Amar asked.

Maleela shot him a violent glare. “And risk death at the onset of my campaign? What fool do you take me for,
demon
? Thrask will lead his army into Delranan. Let them deal with whatever force awaits them. I will follow when I deem it wise.”

The Dae’shan contemplated telling her the portal led to the largely abandoned southern plains where no major military units were stationed. The way between worlds was relatively harmless. His magic ensured that. So long as Maleela kept her gaze focused on the end point she would come to no harm.
She’s stronger than I originally believed. This one will become a great weapon for me to use against her kind
. Instead he remained silent, allowing her the illusion of controlling her own destiny.

Orders barked. Whip masters lashed their soldiers, stirring the Goblin army into action. Oaths and curses snarled back at their overseers, but the mighty war machine eventually formed ranks. Eyes white with stark fear never experienced, the Goblins waited for Thrask to assume his rightful place at the head of their ranks. His tusks gleamed wildly in the witch-light. Sword raised above his bullish head, the Goblin Lord roared at the top of his lungs and marched into the blackness. One by one the ranks followed.

Amar Kit’han grinned savagely from the security of his cowl. All of his long centuries of planning were finally drawing to their end. There could be but one conclusion in so far as he was concerned: the total destruction of every race on Malweir. The dark gods would return. All life would wither and die while he and his brothers stood by enjoying the fruits of their labors.
Too bad Kodan Bak has betrayed me. His death will be most satisfying
.