The Trials of Caste (29 page)

Gorgon stopped at the next point on the perimeter
of the ring.  As he measured the weight of the padded wooden mallet he found
there in his hands, he looked over at Durik.  It was obvious to anyone watching
him that Durik’s lead only motivated Gorgon even more.

Once the remaining five yearlings positioned
themselves around the ring, Manebrow lifted a white flag.  The trainers in the
crows’ nests scattered around the various obstacles held their white flags up
in recognition.  With a look to the announcer, Manebrow dropped his flag.

Throughout the chamber, the announcer’s voice
boomed, “Let the trial begin!”

Keryak had picked a spear from his point around
the perimeter of the arena.  Being on the far side of the arena behind the
obstacles, much of the crowd and all the rest of the yearlings couldn’t see
him, except for Trallik far to his right and Arbelk far to his left.  As the
announcer gave the signal starting the competition, Keryak looked to his left. 
Arbelk had already selected a wooden sword and shield from his point, and was
now heading at a dead run into one of the passages of the obstacle course. 
“That squatter, I know what he’ll do,” Keryak muttered under his breath,
“Ten-to-one says he’s headed straight for the Tower of the Chalice to ambush
people and scavenge their hard earned keys.”  Keryak shook his head and turned
to run toward the passages himself.

Out of the corner of his eye, Keryak saw something
flying toward him very quickly.  Acting out of pure reflex, he brought his
short fighting spear around in an attempt to knock it away. 

Trallik’s javelin landed with a solid ‘thump’ on
Keryak’s left shoulder.

From one of the crows’ nests, a trainer raised a
red flag and yelled “Keryak!”  Some in the crowd cheered.  Durik was already in
the passageway between the Tomb of Kor and Brimstone.  He paused briefly,
surprised that his friend had been the first kill, and in such a short time. 

Durik had gone a bit to the left, hoping to avoid
Gorgon for the present, figuring that if someone else could score a kill on
Gorgon first, he’d have a much better chance of taking the cup.  Even though
he’d seen Gorgon head straight toward the Crucible, Durik paused for several
moments to make sure that Gorgon hadn’t doubled back in an attempt to come at
him from behind.  His mind was spinning, thinking about what the other
yearlings would be trying to do and where they’d be heading.  After a while, he
decided that Gorgon hadn’t decided to follow him and he began to make his way toward
the center of the obstacle mass that was the scouting trial.  As he ran lightly
through the cool sand of the passageway between the wooden partitions, he could
see one of the trainers in the crows nests above him watching the Tomb of Kor
obstacle area to his left intently.

“Hmm…” he muttered to himself, “I got it!  Watch
the watchers!”  Knowing that Trallik was on his left just a minute ago, and
figuring that no one else could have made it there this quickly, Durik took a
left turn at the first branch in the passageway.  The wooden partition
passageway weaved a bit, then coming into view Durik could see a large wooden
palisade of rough cut wooden logs in the center of a small clearing.  Knowing
that Trallik was expert with the javelin, he approached the entrance to the clearing
cautiously, not sure where Trallik could be hiding.  He was sure that he could
best Trallik in close combat, but it was getting in close with him that was the
hard part.

From the entrance to the clearing, he saw Trallik
about twenty paces in front of him working on the front door of the palisade
that was the outer wall of the tomb.  He was carefully examining the bar on the
front of the door.  Above the door and Trallik’s head was a wooden platform
filled with sand bags.  It was an obvious trap, and Trallik was being cautious.

Durik toyed with the idea of throwing his spear
while Trallik was so focused on the task of finding the tripping mechanism on
the door and disarming it.  Then he thought better of the idea and decided to
see whether or not Trallik could disarm the trap.  After several moments
Trallik stood back, leaving the pole he was using to try to force the mechanism
lodged in the crack in the door, and scratched his head.  Durik knew that if
any of them could disarm a trap, it was surely Trallik.  Then the thought came
to him that perhaps, even though they were competitors, he didn’t have to fight
Trallik at that moment.  Perhaps they could work together to gain the key from
this obstacle.  After a moment more of watching Trallik think, Durik stepped
out from the passageway.

Trallik turned quickly, checking to make sure both
wooden daggers were in his belt then quickly grabbing his javelin from where
he’d left it leaning against the wall, hoisting it to shoulder height.  “Don’t
worry,” Durik said with his hands outstretched, “I’m not here to fight you.  I
see that you may need help.” 

Trallik looked at Durik quizzically.  “You…
what?”  Trallik asked, puzzled.

“Look, this is supposedly the most complex
obstacle in the Trials, right?” Durik began.  Trallik slowly nodded, keeping
his javelin at the ready.  “Well,” Durik continued, “why don’t we break it
together?”

“There’s only one key, Durik,” Trallik countered,
cocking his arm back.

“Wait!” Durik put up a hand.  “You can have it!”

Trallik paused, not sure whether to trust Durik or
not.  He cocked his head to the side and examined Durik through squinted eyes. 
If there was one fault that Trallik thought Durik had, it was that he was too
trusting.  He knew that Durik would be true to his word.  If he played his
cards right, Trallik was sure that he could get not only a key out of this
obstacle, but perhaps more.  After a moment of consideration, Trallik broke the
silence, “Well, you only live one life,” Trallik said, flashing a sly, toothy
grin. 

“Or in this case, three!” Durik replied.  They
both laughed.  Durik looked at how Trallik had been prying on the rope
fastening that held the trap in place above the door and, after feeling around
the opening, found a small bar that he put into place above the pole.  As it
fell into place, the snap of two pieces of metal fastening together could be
heard.  “I believe this will hold the pole in place as we open the door, so
that we don’t slip and accidentally trigger the trap.”

“Either that or you just locked it,” Trallik
remarked.

“I guess we’ll see soon enough.”

As one, the two young kobolds put all their weight
onto the pole, looking cautiously above them, watching to ensure the trapdoor
didn’t let loose the bags of sand.  As they heaved, they felt the weight on the
pole increase greatly as the rope came free of its mooring.  As they struggled,
Trallik kicked the doors open and, on a count of three, the two young kobolds
released the pole and jumped inside, just clearing the entranceway as the bags
of sand dropped heavily behind them, releasing clouds of sand and dust.

Coughing and wiping their eyes, the two could see
a large inner chamber beyond the entrance.  The floor was covered with tar
except for the small platform at the entrance where they both had landed. 
Signs posted in the tar declared the floor to be a “bottomless pit.”  Throughout
the chamber were wide stumps of various heights, which generally seemed to lead
upwards to the other end of the chamber.  Above it all in the wall at the other
end of the chamber, through the dust clouds the bags of sand had released, they
could see the door to the next part of the obstacle.

Durik looked at Trallik.  “Well, I guess we’d
better not touch the tar.”

Trallik coughed, “Ungh… yeah.”

Keryak padded lightly around the perimeter of the
obstacles toward the entrance nearest to the smoke obstacle.  In one hand the
young kobold held a spear, in the other a bow.  Over his back was a quiver with
five padded-tipped arrows in it.  As he reached the entrance to the passageway,
he took a couple of steps back and saw again the small plumes of smoke rising
from the various holes in the hide roof that covered the smoke obstacle.  He
was sure this was the way that would lead him there.

Keryak, like all the other yearlings, had
intensely questioned last year’s yearling group once they returned from the
proofing of their trial.  Of all the descriptions of the obstacles and tactics
that the previous group had mentioned, the one that stuck clearest in his mind
was the description of how easy the smoke obstacle was.  “Just crawl in below
the level of the smoke,” Terrim, one of last year’s new warrior caste had
said.  “The key should be lying in the middle of the floor, unless they change
it that is.  Just find it, and get out without passing out.  That’s it.”

“Father always told me to work smarter, not harder,”
Keryak muttered to himself as he ran lightly down the passageway toward the
hide door of the smoke obstacle. 

Suddenly, from the shadows of an intersecting
passageway ahead of him, Keryak spotted something moving.  He stopped cold,
almost tripping in the process.  Moving quickly, he flattened himself against
the nearest wooden panel in the passageway, disappearing behind the bend in the
passageway. 

Keryak stuck his spear in the sand and leaned it
against the panel.  Slowly, and as quietly as he could, he drew an arrow out of
the quiver on his back and nocked the arrow in his bow.  At that moment, he
heard footsteps in the passage ahead of him.  Drawing the string back quickly,
Keryak stepped out into the passageway and drew the string back to his ear. 
Not more than ten steps ahead of him Troka, long wooden sword grasped in both
hands, was running toward him at full speed.

Troka’s eyes grew wide as he stared at Keryak in
disbelief.  He quickly threw his sword to the side and lifted his arms up to
shield his face.  With a solid thump, Keryak’s arrow pummeled Troka square in
the chest, the red dye leaving a large mark.  From above, the trainer in the
crows nest held up a red flag and yelled “Troka.”  Leaving the sword where it
lay, Troka ran out of the obstacles with his first kill against him.

Keryak recovered his arrow, and, taking his spear
in hand, continued toward the smoke obstacle, running past the intersecting
passageway that Troka had just come from.  He was so excited about having made
his first kill that he didn’t even see Jerrig until after he felt the javelin
knock the wind out of him from behind and throw him to the ground.

For his part, Jerrig was ecstatic that he had
gotten a kill, and so his place in the warrior caste was assured.

Durik carefully leapt from one stump to the next,
slowly making his way toward the door at the other end.  Ahead of him, Trallik
jumped and stumbled.  Dropping his javelin into the tar, it was all that
Trallik could do to keep himself from falling in.  With a quick jump, Durik
leapt to the stump next to Trallik and brought the butt of his spear around,
catching Trallik in the stomach and preventing him from falling.  After
standing still for a second, Trallik breathed slowly and turned to Durik.