The Game of Fates (15 page)

Finally,
on this third day, they began binding the various pieces together and
constructing semi-finished suits of armor.  By second meal one full suit of
armor was already completed, and several more were having the scales sewn on
them.  Holding the first suit up to look at the workmanship, Ardan got a smile
on his face.  It was heavy armor, but it would turn most blades at least, as
well as many arrows and spears. 

The
new armor would take some getting used to, however.  After all, these warriors
were used to being light fighters, their only armor being at most a shield. 

In
front of her stall lay several burlap sacks of grain, each one carefully
measured in the balance.  It was a point of pride for her, and part of the
reason that she was so well respected.  No one could ever say that she was not
fair to both buyer and seller.  An honest broker; that was her reputation. 

Miratha
looked up from the parchment where she had been cross-referencing the orders
for grain with the sellers who had provided the grain.  Focusing her eyes on
the large shape making its way directly across the trading floor to her, she
suddenly realized that it was Ardan draped in a heavy cloak.  With a smile on
her face, Miratha put down her writing board and moved to meet him.  As she
threw her arms around his waist, she felt hard metal.  Opening up the cloak,
she saw a large metal band bound about his waist, girding up a heavy jacket of
metal scales.

Ardan
grabbed her arms before she threw the cloak off of him entirely, motioning
toward the door of her booth.  Walking together through the booth into the back
room, Ardan now threw off his cloak, revealing the metal armor that he’d been
working on for the past three days. 
Shoulder
guards curved up to protect the base of his neck, gleaming in the light of
Miratha’s candle.  Greaves on his shins covered each leg, including the knee,
leaving the upper part of the leg covered by leather.  The upper part of the
armor was a long coat of leather with metal scales sewn onto it in tight
patterns, much like a kobold’s own scales, but made of strong steel.  The
bottom of the long coat came down over the upper part of the legs and was
girded about in the middle by a large band of metal, tied tight over the belly
with leather thongs to help distribute the weight.  Its sleeves only came down
to a little above the elbow.  Below that, the bracers that covered the forearms
flared a bit at the wrist and elbow, to prevent blades from sliding off the
forearm onto the hands or elbows.

Miratha
was impressed.  She’d not seen armor quite like this before.  In fact, she’d
not paid much attention to armor before, at least not before she’d gotten the
limestone and bricks for Ardan.  “So this is what you did with the limestone
and bricks?”

Ardan
nodded.  “We did more than just make armor.  We made armor of steel.  Here in
the Krall Gen your smithies make fine iron, both cast-iron and wrought-iron,
but none of them know how to make steel.  Since steel is stronger, you don’t
have to make it as thick as iron to do the same job.  So, since it’s lighter
overall, we decided to use more of it to make coats of this scale armor.”  He
turned around so that Miratha could see the entire suit.  “They’re making steel
helmets to go with it all even as we speak.”

Miratha
looked into Ardan’s eyes, “I like anything that helps keep my love safe.”

Ardan
smiled.  “I may not be wearing the coat much, however,” he said.  “Despite the
cloth backing on each scale it does still make a good amount more noise than a
scout like me needs to make.  Because of that, we’re making a few extra coats
without the noisy scales, they just have the shoulder guards and the large
metal belts on them, just like the Krall Gen warriors use, so us scouts have a
better chance of going unheard.”

Miratha’s
eyes were glazed over a bit.  She was happy that her love would be more
protected, and that was all that she wanted or needed to know.

Looking
into her eyes, Ardan changed the subject.  “Durik, the leader of our company,
would like you to come to second meal with us.  He has something to give you in
appreciation of helping us get the supplies to make steel.”

Miratha’s
brow rose.  She’d never been given an award or anything of the sort.  All of
her successes had brought their own economic reward, but no special recognition
of any sort.  Her interest was piqued.

Ardan
could see that she was caught off guard.  “Just come as you are.  No need to
put on anything special.  We’re all hot and sweaty from working on the armor
anyway.  It’s just a little something to show you we appreciate your help.  Oh,
and don’t mention the armor.  We don’t want word getting out yet.”

Miratha
nodded.

“I’ve
got to get back to the blacksmithy and leave the armor there.  The rest of the
company is at Lord Krall’s Great Hall.  Will you meet me there shortly?” Ardan
asked.

Still
a bit dumb-struck and uncharacteristically speechless, Miratha nodded.

“I’ll
be waiting at the door for you,” Ardan said as he put the heavy cloak back over
his armor.  “I love you,” he said as he turned to go.

T
he members of Durik’s Company had
not heard any news about the progress of the younger Krall’s force.  For that
matter, very little information was leaking out from the Great Hall at all. 
That messengers from Krall’s house guard companions had come it was true, but
after receiving their messages Lord Krall had sent them back as quickly as they
had come under strict orders to not divulge word of the campaign.  Now, only
two days into the Krall Gen’s campaign against the great ants, as Ardan made
his way from the workshops to the Great Hall for second meal, however, the
sight that met his eyes was impossible to suppress.

Accompanied
by a rabble of pig herders, shepherds, and whelps, a group of three herders’
carts with bandaged limbs and broken bodies visible on their berths, pushed and
pulled by exhausted troops and a swell of locals, was making its way out of the
woods and toward the hall of the master healer on the lake.

Older
whelps ran ahead of the caravan, yelling for the master healer as they went. 
Seeing an urgent need, Ardan also began to run.  It didn’t take long until he
was at the front doors of the Great Hall.  Arriving at the doors, he flung them
open.  All eyes in the Great Hall turned and focused on him.

“There
are wounded warriors arriving in carts from the campaign,” he yelled.  “Come,
let us help them.”  Shocked into action, the entire company and all the house
guards stood to follow Ardan outside. 

Lord
Krall, who apparently had been watching the road from his personal chambers,
rushed past the group and headed straight for the procession.  In matters of a
child’s possible harm or death, both king and commoner are equals. 

In
moments, the entire group was moving almost as one toward the carts to relieve
the tired warriors and herders who were pushing them.  As they came, questions
began to be asked and answers were quick in coming.

Durik
was surprised to find the Heavy Guard contingent leader among those pushing the
carts.  As his warriors and the house guard replaced the exhausted warriors in
pushing and pulling the carts, Durik listened to the report the Heavy Guard
leader gave Lord Krall. 

After
giving assurances to Lord Krall that his son was alive when this train of
wounded warriors had left the field, the Heavy Guard leader spoke of what had
happened.  The picture that he painted was of a desperate fight and of a
remnant left behind in a desperate position. 

Krall’s
force had been caught out in the open by a superior force of ants.  They were
forming a camp in a small, bowl-shaped valley when their scouts had reported
initial contact with a few, scattered hunter ants.  Krall had done the right
thing and formed his group in a circle, melee troops on the outside. 
Unfortunately, he’d chosen to form them in the bottom of the valley, instead of
on one of the surrounding hills.

According
to the wounded Heavy Guard leader, the flood of worker ants had come at them
with absolute fury and determination.  They were so eager to get at the kobold
warriors that they had crawled over each other in a mad dash.  Krall had
expected this and was not surprised by it.  However, unlike in Durik’s case,
the kobold warriors saw no ant commanders, and so they had no choice but to
deal with the entire mass of worker ants.

The
initial volleys of javelins had done little to slow them, as did volley after
volley of arrows, and within moments the flood of ants had smashed into the
kobold perimeter.  To his credit, Krall had seen that his perimeter was not
going to hold when absolute fear began to ripple through the ranks as warrior
after warrior went down screaming in agony, their flesh being literally ripped
from their bones by the furious great ants.  Calling to his leaders, Krall had
pushed the Border Guard contingent out of the perimeter and toward the nearest
hill top.  He then had done his best to withdraw his perimeter without
collapsing it.  To the Heavy Guard’s credit, the perimeter had held until it approached
the bottom of the hill that the Border Guard held, allowing the Border Guard to
begin to support the perimeter with accurate arrow volleys at close range.

The
momentum of the onrushing ants had then been somewhat slowed and Krall had seen
that the majority of his Heavy Guard warriors and several of his Archer Guard
warriors had fallen in the withdrawal.  To the kobolds’ gruesome fortune,
hundreds of the worker ants had been delayed as they ripped apart the bodies of
the fallen kobold warriors.  The leaders of the army, wrenching their eyes from
the gruesome activity of the workers in the valley in front of them, had seen a
small cluster of large ants, with upright torsos, standing almost over the far
lip of the ridge of hills that formed the perimeter of the valley.

Having
discovered the ant commanders’ stratagem of hiding just over the hill, the
Archer Guard contingent leader turned volley after volley against the group of
ant commanders.  In short order the sea of giant ant workers had begun to fall
into disarray as many of them wandered about without direction.  As the ant
commanders had fallen or fled their position on the ridge, it became obvious
that no one was directing the worker ants. 

Krall
had then immediately unleashed the Border Guard on the confused ants, while the
archers had kept watch from their vantage point to ensure the ant commanders
did not reappear.  Within a short space of time, the entire field had fallen
into the hands of the kobolds.  Victory belonged to the kobolds, but at a great
price.

The
carcasses of well over a thousand of the ant workers, as well as a score or so
of hunter ants had littered the field.  Interspersed among them were several
kobold dead.  The Heavy Guard contingent, who bore the brunt of the assault,
had been cut in half.  The Archer Guard and Border Guard contingents had
suffered almost a score of casualties each.  Even among Krall’s ten personal
guards there were a handful of casualties.  Overall, Krall’s force had been
diminished to less than two-thirds its original size, most of the more
seriously wounded having been torn to shreds where they lay as the perimeter
withdrew.

With
the withdrawal from the field of the more seriously wounded, accompanied by a
handful of lesser wounded warriors, Krall’s force was now down to almost
exactly half-strength. 

Shaking
his head, the Heavy Guard leader related how he had left the field only after
committing to come back with more troops.

When
Lord Krall asked him what his son’s current troop dispositions were, the Heavy
Guard leader shook his head.  “Lord, your son decided to make for the bridge. 
After all, we know the great ants can’t swim, and the bridge provides a natural
choke point.  There is a small group of hills just on the far side of the
bridge, and he decided to build fortifications on those hills.  He’s trying to
ring the place with wooden walls that the ants won’t be able to climb before
the next onslaught comes.  Sire, I’m afraid he’ll be cut off in that little
fortress and destroyed.”

Lord
Krall held his head in shock, disbelief, and eventually frustration.  “So many
good warriors dead!” he groaned.  “And now Krall is trying to force my hand.  I
told him I didn’t want to commit any more troops to this.  Now I have to!” 

As
the caravan of wounded passed them by, Lord Krall stood with the Heavy Guard
leader and the assembled leaders and minions who had listened to his report. 
In Lord Krall’s eyes could be seen an intense struggle.  It was obvious to all
around that the fate of their gen was being heavily debated within him.  The
battle that raged in the chambers of Lord Krall’s soul was the same one faced
by most monarchs at least once in their lifetime, and its results were quick to
surface.  As he stared into the distance, Lord Krall’s old, tired face began to
harden.  In his eyes was a look of power and strength that few had seen for
many years.  It was obvious that determination and resolve had won over fear
and indecision.

Lord
Krall turned and looked the Heavy Guard leader in the eyes.  “Go.  Once you’ve
seen the master healer, tell the rest of your warriors to prepare, then come to
me quickly at the council chambers.  Tonight we gather our forces, and tomorrow
morning we march!”

With
that, Lord Krall sent the servant that was closest to him to pass the word to
the sub-leaders of the Border Guard and the Archer Guard to have their troops
gathering while they came to the council chambers.  He also instructed
Krebbekar, who had heard most of the conversation, to have his mount, armor,
and weapons made ready, and to have the house guard ready to march at dawn. 
Striding with more energy than Durik had yet seen in the old kobold, Lord Krall
hustled to the crowd of kobolds gathering at the master healer’s house and,
grabbing each council member by the arm, called an emergency session of the
Krall Gen’s Council.

Standing
about the area, the caravan of wounded served to remind the members of Durik’s
Company about the dangers they had faced and what the fortunes of war often
brought.  The Fates had smiled on them so far, though their quest had not been
bloodless, but the future was never a certain thing.  Miratha, who had been in
the Great Hall waiting for Ardan to arrive, now looked Ardan in the eyes and
asked what he was thinking.  As Ardan pondered what to say, Durik walked up
with something over his shoulder.

“We
had wanted to present this in better circumstances, but I’m not sure we’ll get
that opportunity now.”  Opening the boar skin bag that he had slung over his
back, Durik pulled out a set of two steel bowls, perfectly round with slightly
flattened bottoms.

“Oh,
they’re beautiful!” Miratha said.

“Thank
you for your help,” Durik said then paused.  “We were trying to make helmets
out of these, but they ended up being better bowls.”

Ardan
leaned over and whispered, “There are two of them, you know.”

The
implications were not lost on Miratha.  “I know,” she purred as her tail
wrapped around his knee.  “Maybe we can make a few more… smaller ones.”

The
emergency council of the Krall Gen was pervaded by a sense of urgency, yet
still the debate was hot and the positions were many.  Finally, after many
opinions had been expressed, Lord Krall put a stop to it.  Holding up his hand,
he addressed the assembled council members and military leaders.

“My
fellow kobolds, while I respect the many opinions which have been expressed
here tonight, the reality of the situation is this:  I and many others here and
throughout our gen have sons that are in danger tonight.  I mobilized our
warriors not to debate about whether we should go after this threat to our very
existence, but to stamp it out.  Though I was reluctant at first to commit this
gen too deeply to this cause, I now see clearly that I have no other choice. 
Clearly these great ants have grown in number so strong that if we do not face
them now, we will soon be overrun.”  Around the council table, and in the seats
around the edges of the council chamber, there were many kobolds who voiced
their approval of Lord Krall’s words.

“Fellow
members of our gen, I mean to face this threat.  Tonight, when the sun first
touches the western mountains, I want three companies of fifty warriors each,
one from each of the three contingents, to march forth to our army’s aid.  This
will be the first forces we send.  I will see the three leaders whom you chose
immediately following this council.  I will exempt from this campaign only the
minimum forces necessary to guard the gen in our absence, Border Guard mostly,
the rest will be ready to go with me tomorrow morning, when the rays of the sun
first strike this great hall on the lake.  I will personally ride forth at the
head of the rest of our forces. 

“Now,
I want the leaders of the warriors to go back to their contingents and finish
preparations for tomorrow’s march, and don’t be late!  As for the rest of you,
my minister will ensure that the proper supplies are sent forward.”  He then
drew the sword he had recently strapped over his back.  “My blade will not be
sheathed until the last great ant is driven from our valley!”

The
roar of approval that met Lord Krall’s declaration was deafening.  The Krall
Gen was now fully committed to meeting the threat, and there was no turning
back.  Either the great ant colony would fall, or the Krall Gen.  This was
absolute war.