The Trials of Caste (15 page)

“Well, Spider?” Durik prompted.  “I’ve already had
enough trouble because of you today.  What do you want now?”

“You!  You were there!  I saw you and Keryak
following my mother!  You took the bag from my mother’s house!” he accused,
suddenly aware that Trallik had no knowledge of the poison, and therefore not
wanting to say more.

Durik slowly nodded.  “Yes, I did.  In fact,
Keryak and I both did.”

Spider stumbled up to Durik and poked him in the
chest.  “You stole the poison!” he hissed through clenched teeth, trying to
keep his voice low enough that Trallik wouldn’t hear.

“Poison?  What poison?” Trallik asked, taking a
step forward.

Spider looked back at Trallik fearfully. 
“Nothing!  Go away!” he snapped, his voice a harsh whisper.

Durik shook his head.  “No we didn’t, Spider,” he
said, his face set with determination.  “We followed you to the cavern where
the Fang Cap grows and watched you harvest it.  But the bag your mother had was
full of harmless spiced shelf fungus, not Fang Cap spores.”

Spider looked at Durik without understanding.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing,” Durik
continued, “but whatever you’ve done with the poison, it will be found and you
will be caught.”

Spider slowly shook his head.  How could this be?

Walking back to the doorway of his house, Durik
reached inside and picked up a small bag.  Turning back to Spider, he flung it
at his feet.  “Here.  Here’s your bag.”

Spider picked it up woodenly and slowly opened
it.  Spongy crumbs of spiced shelf fungus, the same sort that the lower castes
of the gen added to their food, spilled out over his hand and onto the ground. 
In despair, Spider fell to his knees and tore the bag open as he began to sob. 
Crumbs of the fungus scattered on the ground in front of him.

“Why would you be gathering poison?” Trallik asked
in a subdued voice.

“I don’t know,” Durik answered instead, “but I’m thinking
it’s Trelkar of the Deep Guard, or maybe Khee-lar Shadow Hand he’s working
for.”  Turning to look at Trallik, he continued.  “You wouldn’t know anything
about that, now would you, Trallik?”

“No, I…” Trallik said.  “I’m in their warrior
group… What’s going on?”

Durik shook his head.  “You’re always one to get
into trouble.  But I wouldn’t get involved in this if I were you, Trallik.  In
fact,” he said, “I’m done with this myself.  It’s time to get some rest before
the trials tomorrow.  Good night, both of you.”  With that, Durik turned and
retreated back through the door of his house.

Spider just knelt there mumbling to himself.  “There’s
not time to make the trip to the cavern again.  Trelkar will be upset with me
unless… can I get more before…?”  In a few moments, Spider got to his feet and
went stumbling off toward the passageway, muttering to himself, leaving Trallik
alone to ponder on the events of the night.

D
urik
tossed and turned on his bed.  Everything about what was going on was wrong;
Raoros pointing the conspiracy toward Khazak when it was clear now that Trelkar
and Troll were the real conspirators, Raoros’ seeming involvement, Troll
confronting him and asking him to murder for him.  Things were spinning out of
control around him, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

Sitting up in the dark, Durik held his head in his
hands.  After a few moments, he got out of bed and stood up.  Summoning up what
courage he had, Durik knew he had to act.  If he, knowing what was wrong, did
nothing about it, he knew he could blame no one but himself for not stopping
it.  No matter what Khazak Mail Fist did, or anyone else did for that matter, and
whether or not Raoros Fang was involved or not, Durik decided that he would do
what he could to stop the plot that was afoot.  Though he didn’t know how, he
felt better already, more sure, and determined to face whatever lay ahead.

With a new focus showing in his eyes, Durik walked
out of his room.  Grabbing one of his uncle’s knives and tucking it into his
belt, the young kobold padded quietly out of the tent-dwelling that was his
home.  Making his way quickly toward the Leaders’ Grotto, determined to talk to
Khazak Mail Fist, Durik heard voices around the next corner and stopped.

“Spider said he lost a bag of poison,” a voice
that he was sure was Trallik’s was saying.

“Very good.  Now, for your loyalty, I will tell
you that I took it from him.  Does that surprise you?” a second voice asked.

There was silence for a moment before Trallik
answered, his voice a hushed whisper.  “No.  What are you going to do with it?”

“I gave Spider’s bag to Khazak Mail Fist to gain
his trust, though I have another bag of it.  See how much I trust you?  Now,
tell me, what did Spider say he was going to do?” the other voice changed the
subject.

“He had an idea for getting more poison.  He
didn’t say how, but I followed him,” Trallik answered, by the tone of his voice
he was clearly getting excited. 

“And where did he go?”

“He took the long route toward the caves of the
Deep Guard, the one that goes by way of the Patrol Guard’s caverns, and passes
through the grotto of the Herb Master.”

“The Herb Master, you say?  Perhaps he will find
his poison there.  Why did you leave him?” the second voice asked.

“He did mutter something about the Herb Master,”
Trallik answered.  “I tried to follow him.  He seemed like he might be heading
for trouble.”

“But why are you here, so near the home of the
Honor Guard, when he’s heading back to the Deep Guard?”

“Khazak Mail Fist and some of the Honor Guard are
onto him, I think.  They have guards posted all over the place… from the Honor
Guard Warrior Group.  I almost got caught by one of their patrols and ran this
way to avoid them.”

“Khazak is out?”

“Yes, I just saw him and some others rushing
past.  They’re taking the long route to the Deep Guard’s caverns as well.  If
Spider stops at the Herb Master’s house, they’ll catch up to him quickly.”

The other kobold immediately began walking away
down a side passage.  “Good work!  Go to the marketplace of the Honor Guard.  Either
Spider or I will meet you there.  Find whatever tools you can for opening locks
and be prepared to follow immediately upon our arrival.  The time for your task
is almost at hand, and if you do it well, in a few days you’ll be an elite
warrior.”

“I won’t let you down,” Trallik answered.  “And I
have my tools here with me.  I’m ready.”

“Remember, either Spider or myself will come for
you shortly.”

The sound of footsteps faded quickly into the
distance.

Durik was surprised to come face to face with
Trallik as he came around the corner and found Durik standing there, listening.

“What… why are you still out?” Trallik stammered.

“Why are you out?” Durik countered.

“You know why,” Trallik growled.  “The same reason
you’re out.  Spider was trying to poison someone.  I’m just trying to find out
what’s going on.”

“Who was that you were talking to?” Durik pressed.

“No one!” Trallik snapped, frustrated at Durik’s
questions.

“It’s Lord Karthan and his family,” Durik said.

“What?”

“That’s who Spider is trying to poison.”

Trallik was shocked and silent.

“I’m telling you, Trallik, don’t get involved in
this.  Nothing good can come of it.”

Trallik scoffed as he turned to go, his eyes wide
with surprise.  “I’ll be fine,” he stammered.

Durik shook his head as he watched him go.

Krobo was shaken, but more than anything he was
shocked at what he had agreed to do.  As he walked through the main passageways
that led back to the upper areas of the gen from the lower reaches, he could
not help but play back in his mind what had happened.  How had he fallen in
with such evil?  Was this what Trelkar had planned all along… to kill Lord
Karthan?

Shaking his head, he looked down at the dagger in
his hands in disbelief.  He couldn’t believe he had actually agreed to do this
thing.  But then, if he didn’t…

“Krobo,” a familiar voice cut through his stupor
and he stopped in place, looking up from the dagger in his hand.  It was
Spider, a strange look of adrenaline on his face, yet Krobo was oblivious to
it.  “I have more of the sleeping dust.  Here, take it for the stew!  I’ll go
tell Trelkar that the plan is back on track!”

Krobo shook his head.  “I can’t.  But they are
going to kill… they have your mother…”

Not for years had Spider bothered caring about
other people.  Even his feelings for his mother were mostly gone; despite his
recent failure he didn’t feel the need to run to her.  All he really cared about
at the moment was that he had been able to correct his mistake, thanks to a
small stockage of rat poison the Herb Master kept on hand.  Now he just needed
to figure out how to get Krobo to use the poison.

Spider looked about the subterranean cavern the
pair were standing in.  There was a drop off to one side of the walkway, but
the rest of the cavern was open.  No one seemed to be around.  “What do you
mean?  What are they making you do?” he began to try to talk with Krobo; the
beginnings of an attempt to persuade him to take the poison and finish the
deed.

Krobo had a hard time bringing himself to say it. 
After a couple of deep breaths, he finally stammered, “Trelkar wants me to kill
Lord Karthan.”

“Or what?” Spider pressed.

“Or they will kill Jezmya!”

As Spider watched Krobo, the anguish on the old
kobold’s face awakened some long-suppressed sentiment for his mother.  “They
can’t do that,” he mumbled to himself.  “What is happening here?”  Being beaten
by Trelkar was one thing; some elite warriors did that with their servant caste
when they made mistakes.  But holding his mother hostage… he had never expected
such an act.  If they would kill his mother, what would stop them from killing
him?  All of a sudden Spider began to doubt.

“They are merciless, Spider,” Krobo cried. 
“They’ll stop at nothing to get what they want… and they’ll destroy us and your
mother in the process.  None of us are important to them; only power.  They’ll
use us up and throw us away when it suits them.”

“Here.”  Spider’s eyes began to moisten from the first
realization that his dreams for power were likely to end in ruin for him and
his mother.  Yet he could see no other way than to do Trelkar’s bidding.  “Take
this dust,” he said, pressing the small jar into Krobo’s hands.

Krobo looked down at the jar.  “This is poison,
isn’t it?” he stated more than asked.

Spider nodded his head.  “It will end this whole
thing.”

“But how can I…” Krobo began.

At that moment, the pair of kobolds heard
footsteps coming down the passageway.  As they stood frozen, a kobold that
neither of them recognized came around the corner and stopped.  By his dress
and markings, he was an elite warrior of the Deep Guard, but neither of them
had seen him before.

“Ah, Spider and Krobo,” the stranger said.

Both of them looked at each other questioningly.

“Why do you have that dagger, Krobo?”

“I… I… No re… reason,” Krobo stuttered.

“Oh, and I see that Spider got you a jar of poison
from the Herb Master’s grotto.  Well, they’ve sent you on a fool’s errand, then,
haven’t they?  Sending an old fool to do an assassin’s job?  Well, I’m prepared
to fix that.”

Krobo was sweating profusely.

“And you.” the stranger turned to Spider.  “You’ve
become quite unnecessary.  In fact, after I went to Khazak Mail Fist tonight
with the bag of poison you harvested, you’re much more a liability than an
asset.  Not that I don’t have
more
poison, mind you.”

“What do you mean?” Spider asked in confusion.

“This is what I mean,” the stranger said as he stepped
forward.  Drawing a long knife from his belt, he grabbed Spider by the shoulder
and drove the knife up through his stomach and into his lungs in one fluid
motion.  The look of shock and blinding pain froze on Spider’s face as the
stranger caught his slumping form and pushed him off the walkway.  His body
fell through space until it hit the bottom of the crevice far below.

“You… you…” Krobo stammered as he backed up, fear
and shock paralyzing the old servant caste.

At that moment, the sound of several feet could be
heard coming from the passageway behind the stranger.  Looking about, the
stranger unbuckled the sheath from his waist and threw the belt, sheath, and
long knife together off the precipice after Spider’s body.  Passing a hand over
his face, Krobo was stunned to see the face of Spider appear in place of the
stranger’s face.  The mark of elite warrior was gone from his chest, and he looked
less muscular and more hunched over.  He looked like Spider!

As Krobo stumbled back and fell on his tail in
shock, Khazak Mail Fist, Lord Karthan’s chief bodyguard, and a pair of other
Honor Guard warriors came into view around the corner.

“Spider!” Khazak called.

“Yes, sire,” the stranger who now looked like
Spider answered.

“What is going on here?”

Spider pointed to the dagger and the jar of poison
that Krobo still held in his nerveless hands.  “Sire, Krobo was coming to kill
Lord Karthan.  Somehow he got more poison, and see, he has a dagger.  I believe
it has the stamp of the Deep Guard on it!”

Khazak’s face twisted to one of absolute anger as
he leapt forward and grabbed the poison and the dagger out of Krobo’s hands. 
Taking Krobo by the arm with his other hand, he picked the older kobold off the
floor and threw him bodily at the feet of the two Honor Guard warriors.

“Take this traitor to prison,” Khazak commanded. 
“And take this as evidence against Khee-lar and Trelkar from the Deep Guard,”
he added as he passed the poison and the dagger to the chief bodyguard.

“Sire,” the chief bodyguard said.  “This is not
the stamp of the Deep Guard.  This dagger bears the stamp of the Metal Smithies. 
And this poison comes from the Herb Master’s grotto I would say, by the make of
the jar.”

Khazak growled and shook his head.  “It doesn’t
matter.  We caught him with the evidence we need, and we’ve already been told
who put him up to this,” he said as he caught Spider’s eye.  “We’ll get Trelkar
and his lackeys.  Krobo will tell us what we need to know… with a little bit of
persuasion.”

“That’s not Spider!” Krobo finally blurted out as
the two Honor Guard warriors began to drag him away.  “He just killed Spider!  He’s
an imposter!  He killed Spider!” then, as his cries  became more desperate, “I
didn’t know that jar was poison!”

Khazak looked at Spider with a serious gaze. 
Spider just looked back at him and chuckled.  “I’m not me?  It seems the old
kobold is crazy as well.”

Krobo continued to scream and fight the guards as
they drug him by the arms out of the cavern and into the passageway.  When the
screaming didn’t subside quickly, one of the guards struck him hard in the side
of the head and Krobo slumped into unconsciousness.

Shaking his head, Khazak began walking after them,
intent on making it to the gen’s council on time.  The burning of the torch
that marked the first watch of the night had begun at the sounding of the third
gong, and the midnight council where the yearlings’ quest would be discussed
would soon convene in the council chambers of the gen.  Despite all the events
of the past couple of days, tradition was tradition, and nothing would get in
the way of everyone playing their parts in the series of events that were
collectively known as the Trials of Caste.

“Sire,” the kobold who looked like Spider said as
the chief bodyguard turned to him, “now that you have him, may I gather my
mother’s things from his personal chambers in the Lord’s house?”