The Game of Fates (35 page)

“You
must admit you were both very loud,” Kale responded to the thoughts written on
Trallik’s face.  “Did she not say that she left that life off, that she’d been
caught by the orcs as she had been trying to leave the Sultry Family?” Kale
pressed.  “Haven’t we all made mistakes, my friend?  That doesn’t mean we must
all be condemned for our faults.”

The
memory of Trallik’s own faults of character began to come back to him.  He
himself hadn’t led the most noble of lives.  For that matter, he’d been a
conspirator against the old lord of his gen, which certainly wasn’t a very
noble thing.  Even worse, he’d promised to kill Lord Karthan’s daughter as part
of that conspiracy.  Surely killing a helpless female in cold blood wasn’t a
noble act either, but did it compare to what Trikki must surely have done?

Even
as the words ran through his mind, Trallik’s heart told him clearly what the
answer was.  He had been a fool to condemn Trikki out of hand, when his record
was no better than hers.  He remembered well finding Lord Karthan’s two young
sons in the lair of the ant queen, with an almost expended Khazak Mail Fist still
guarding them.  Though he’d not been able to follow through with the murder of
Lord Karthan’s whelps, in his heart he knew he might have if the ant queen
hadn’t grabbed him first.

Trallik
looked away in anguish.  “What have I done?” he moaned.  His tail began to move
furtively behind him.

Kale
waited patiently for his own heart to show him the path.

“I’ve
ruined our love,” Trallik said miserably, feeling now the pain he had caused
her.

Kale
placed an arm over his shoulders.  “No, you haven’t,” he spoke gently in his
ear.  “There’s still a chance to save it.  Go to her, Trallik.  Be the kobold
you know you should be.”

Trallik
breathed in deeply, beginning to feel the first bits of strength returning. 
“Will she take me back, after all I said?” he asked, half to himself, and half
to Kale.

“There’s
more to you than that fight back there,” Kale said.  “You’re better than that,
and I think she sees that.”  He paused, looking into Trallik’s pained eyes. 
“Forgive her, Trallik, and ask for her forgiveness in turn.  Go to her now. 
Love her.”

Nodding,
Trallik stood up.  After a deep, shuddering breath, he began the long walk back
to his guest chamber.

Trikki
still lay exactly where he had left her, the deer skin laying as he’d left it,
almost carelessly thrown over her.  Now as he stood looking at her, he couldn’t
help but feel miserable for what he’d done.  Without mercy he had accused her
of all sorts of heinous actions, and yet never once had she raised her voice
back at him.  He had treated her without any respect.  His heart ached with the
pain he had caused her.

Sitting
down beside her on the large, colorless fur rug, Trallik could feel the
moisture of her tears still.  Gently, he began to stroke the portion of the
deer fur rug that lay over her arm and back.  Almost instantly her sleeping
form seemed to stiffen, then as he continued to gently caress her, little by
little she began to relax.  After a while, her swollen eyes opened and she
looked up at her mate.

The
hurt and fear in her eyes was more than Trallik could bear.  He had to look
away as tears began to fill his own eyes again.  “I’m… I’m sorry, Trikki,” he
started.  “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I’m afraid
I’ve ruined our love.  I’m sorry for saying such awful things about you, and I
don’t hold your past against you.  Can you forgive me?”

The
pain in Trikki’s eyes began to melt, being slowly replaced by a tentative
compassion.  They sat that way in silence for several moments.  Finally, in a
token of acceptance, Trikki lifted the deer skin.  Trallik lay down next to her
and the two of them lay close to each other for some time before, almost
simultaneously, they moved toward each other, holding each other’s brightly
glowing bodies in the darkness of the home of the Kale Family.

Time
passed and eventually the motionless pair fell asleep in each other’s arms, and
though the scars of that night would take some time to heal, the looks of pain
and hurt began melting away slowly in each other’s warmth.

That
night, as both valleys were alive with the movements of masses of orcs, ants,
and kobolds from many different gens, Kale lay blissfully unaffected by it
all.  But despite this sheltering, sleep would not come to him.  Two or three
times he rose from his bed, the bright form of Kamia, his lifemate, lying still
on the other half of the straw mattress.

Finally,
as the second watch of the night came to a close, he rose from his bed yet
again and, taking spear in hand, he walked the halls of his family’s domain. 
From the living quarters to the council chamber, and from there through the
amphitheater and out to the watcher’s post where he greeted one of the young
kobolds who had treated their guests so rudely.  All seemed to be in order, and
yet still his mind remained unsettled.

As
he walked back through the council chamber and into the hall beyond that led to
the living chambers, he noticed a side passage that he’d not entered for quite
some time.  Though it only held storage chambers, he felt the need to go down
that hall. 

He
did so.

Turning
a corner, he noticed light emanating ever so faintly from a crack under one of
the doors.  Grabbing his spear tightly, Kale walked quietly toward the door and
listened.  There was no noise to be heard, and the light itself did not flicker. 
Whatever this constant source of light was, it seemed to be as steady as the
magical light orbs set in the ceiling of the council chamber.

Kale
could see that the door was ever so slightly ajar, but not far enough to allow
him a view of what was inside.  Moving as silently as he possibly could, he
pressed one hand lightly against the door, edging it ever so slightly open. 
When light appeared through the crack, he stopped and peered forward through
the slight crack.  The room inside was empty except for what appeared to be a
small, translucent, mercurial stone that was suspended in the air.  Kale had
found the source of the light, for the stone itself glowed with a stunning
brilliance.

“Kale,
son of Kale, come forward,” the voice came out of nowhere, and yet everywhere. 
“I have a task for you.”  The voice was deep, resonant, and yet pierced him
through.

Almost
without noticing that he was doing it, Kale opened the door and stepped fully
into the light.

“I
am Kamuril, and I will soon be set free.  I am the power of your fathers, and
Morgra who watches over your race has sent her paladin to restore my power to
you.”

The
voice was soothing, yet commanding, wise, yet young and strong in timbre.

“But,
what are you?” Kale asked in amazement.

“I
am the power given to the second son of Kobold, the First Sire.  I am the Kale
Stone.  With my power the right to rule the Kale Gen is secured.  And shortly
that right to rule will be yours.  You will be he who reunites the Kale Gen.”

Kale
was overcome.  He dropped to his knees.  “But how can this thing be?  I am but
an exile, an outcast and son of outcasts!”

“In
time it shall be shown to you,” the voice continued.  “Now, you must gather the
strength of your house.  Go to.  Gather the outcasts, and those who call
themselves the Deep Gen.  They must be warned, for a great danger comes that
they do not see.  All who live below the southern valley must be gathered to
the ancestral home of the Kale Gen.  All must be warned to flee to those
caverns.  Go to, for you are called to be a voice of warning and to save your
people.”

T
rallik and Trikki decided to
leave before anyone else was awake, to avoid any more uncomfortable run-ins. 
So, after a few hours of fitful sleep, they gathered their few meager
belongings and left the guest chamber the Kales had provided them in the living
quarters of their family’s halls. 

As
they entered the lighted council chamber, they were both surprised to see Kale
kneeling, deep in thought in front of the tall green-stone throne that
dominated the center of the room.  As they entered, he looked up at them and
they could see he had not slept since they last saw him.  It was equally
obvious by the burdens they carried that the two young lovers were leaving.

“We
have waterskins and sacks of food that you may take with you, if you’d like,”
Kale offered, his voice subdued, his shoulders slumped as if carrying a great
burden.  “If you’re going to our ancestral home, the only thing I ask is that
you tell your lord that he will soon have many visitors from the underdark.  I
believe that me and my people, as well as perhaps many from the Deep Gen, will
be gathering to meet with him.”

Trallik,
who’d been worrying about supplies, wondered at Kale’s words, but he nodded his
head in acceptance and agreement and asked no questions.  He felt he should say
something, but didn’t know what to say.  “I would wait for you, but I must warn
my gen.  They must know of the approach of the orc horde before it is too
late,” he stumbled over the words.

“That
may be why we are to gather to the Kale Gen.  I’m afraid I don’t know,” Kale
said mysteriously as he stood, rubbing legs that had gone stiff since he had
knelt there.  Taking the two of them back into the storage rooms area, he
pushed aside an ancient door with creaking hinges and rummaged around in a pile
of leather goods until he found two good waterskins and a sack.  In the next
room he took liberally from their stores of dried fungus and salted meat,
stuffing the sack to capacity.  In a common chamber in the midst of the store
rooms sat a well from which he filled both of the waterskins.  With a smile, he
handed the items over to Trallik and Trikki.  After giving them general
directions of how to get back to the Doorstep, as the two didn’t want to
attempt a climb up Sheerface from the underdark, Kale saw them to the lookout
post at the entrance past one of the young scouts who had harassed Trikki the
night before and to the entrance from the large sandy cavern that would start
them on their way.

They
thanked Kale for his hospitality and, after saying their goodbyes, Trallik and
Trikki began the journey of nearly half a day to get back to the Doorstep.

Trallik
grabbed Trikki’s wrists for the hundredth time this day to help pull her up
onto the stone balcony that led into the sandy chamber where he had acquired
the deerskin blanket from the sleeping orc patrol.  It had been a long and
arduous journey, one he’d not want to have to do again any time soon, but
already he could smell the change in the air.

The
strength of the wind escaping from the underdark had grown as they approached
the area of the Doorstep, and with it their hopes had grown.  For all the time
they’d spent underground in their lives, like most kobolds Trallik and Trikki
enjoyed the outdoors.  The vibrant colors of light when compared to the black,
grey, and white of heat vision; the freshness of the air and the sounds of the
animals of the forest; even the warmth of the sun and the coolness of night in
late spring: the dank cold of the underdark just couldn’t compare.

“Oh,
Trallik, I’m so glad we’re almost at the surface again!” Trikki smiled.  “It’s
been so long since I’ve seen the sun, and felt the warmth of it on my body.”

“Shh,
my love,” Trallik whispered.  “There may be orcs or other things about.  We
must be quiet.  The Doorstep is a dangerous place.”

Trikki
closed her mouth and ducked her head, as if she were trying to hide behind
Trallik.

The
pair quickly made their way through the sandy chamber past the body of the orc
that Trallik had seen beheaded by the orc he now knew to be Shagra, the orc
champion, some days now in the past.  His body now lay stripped of anything
valuable and in the same spot where it had been before, between the pair of
passageways that led out of the place.  Putting his hand on Trikki’s face,
Trallik carefully pulled her gaze away from the bloated body with its mottled
green skin as they passed by. 

Taking
the left passageway, Trallik kept a careful lookout as he snuck down the
passageway, holding Trikki’s timid hand reassuringly while in his other hand he
held one of his long knives.  As he walked, he wondered what had happened to
the elf prince Arren.  They had parted ways on the far side of the passage
beyond, and he longed for the protection of the expert warrior.  For all his
prowess, Trallik was just one kobold warrior, and now he had a lifemate to
protect as well as himself.

Coming
to the juncture in the passageway where it met up with the broad passage under
the mountains between the north and south valleys, Trallik stopped to look. 
There was nothing to the right, and there was nothing to the left.  In both
directions, the faint light of day could be seen.  The gentle breeze that blew
mixed with air coming in and through the passageway, refreshing the pair as
they breathed it in.

Though
there was nothing in either direction, still Trallik hesitated.

“What
is it, Trallik?” Trikki asked, hanging on his left arm.

Trallik
stood silently contemplating both passageways for a moment.  In one direction
was his home gen, the family he’d grown up in, and the caverns he’d known as a
whelp.  In the other direction lay… well, he didn’t really know, but it wasn’t
what he’d known before.  He couldn’t help but think that more adventure,
greater opportunities, perhaps even Arren the elf prince were to be found in
that other direction.  He wondered, were they to go north instead of back to
his home gen, if it would even matter.  In his heart he struggled to decide if
he should return to his home gen, and if he would even feel comfortable there
now, as these several days away from his gen had seen so many changes in him. 
Another thought occurred to him that it might be better to start anew somewhere
else, somewhere where he was unknown.

“I’m
cold, Trallik,” Trikki shivered.  “I want to feel the warmth of the sun.  Do
you think your mother will like me?”

Trallik’s
attention was quickly snapped back to reality.  Shaking his head to refocus
himself he looked down at Trikki.  “Of course she will.  After all, you love me,
and so does she.”

Trikki
nuzzled up against Trallik’s shoulder.  “I can’t wait to meet your family.”

“I
think you’ll like them.”

“Mmm… 
And even if it takes them a while to get used to me, I know they’ll love your
son,” Trikki purred.

Trallik
just about fell over.  “What?” he said as he turned to face Trikki, his
attention fully focused on her beautiful, beaming face.  He felt like he’d been
slapped in the head with one of the wooden poles they’d used as training spears
in their year of training.

“Well,
that’s what we were doing, you know,” Trikki said defensively, “back there in
the grotto.”

Trallik’s
eyes were wide open and totally unfocused on anything but her eyes at the
moment.  “You’re… you’re pregnant?!”

Trikki
smiled gleefully and nodded. 

“How
did that happen?!” Trallik was exasperated.

“Silly,
you were there.  You know how it happens.”

“Yes,
but… but… how do you know?”

“I
can feel it,” she said as she nuzzled up to his chest.

Trallik
was stunned and speechless.

After
several moments, Trikki spoke.  “I want to feel the sun, Trallik.  Shall we go
now?”

Taking
Trikki by the hand, the pair of future parents turned as one and began to make
their way south, toward the Kale Gen and the caverns where Trallik was born and
raised.

Kale
felt strangely refreshed for not having slept at all.  Now, after a large
breakfast he had ordered for the entire family, he stood facing the sixty-some
kobolds of all different ages and both genders that formed the sum total of his
family.  What he had to tell them was hard enough for him to believe, much less
for the rest of the family to believe.  He had spent much of the night worrying
about this moment. 

Seeing
him standing as if to address them all, the entire family slowly quieted down. 
The mood in the hall was light and cheery, unburdened as yet from the cares of
the day ahead.

“My
dear family, Kales all!” he started, with cheers from some of the assembled
crowd.  “I wanted to bring you together today to speak of a very serious
topic.” 

All
but the younger whelps in the crowd focused more intently on their leader.  The
good feeling the large breakfast left with them all helped to sharpen their
focus and prepare them to hear whatever it was he needed to say to them.

“Long
before I was born my great-great grandfather was Lord of the Kale Gen.  That
was a time of great power, as you can see by the halls we live in, carved by
that power many years ago when our ancestors came here.

“That
power came from two sources.  The first source was and is the Covenant that The
Sorcerer made with our very world, even Dharma Kor, to pass His magic on to us,
His servants, using the language of dragons.  Sadly, that power is no longer
among us. 

“The
second source of great power was a stone that our ancestor, as a direct
descendant of Kale, had a right to use.  This stone of power had a name;
Kamuril.  It was called the Kale Stone, and for some amount short of
nine-hundred of the past thousand years it gave its power to our ancestors. 
Then, more than a hundred years ago my great-great grandfather disappeared on a
quest.  The stone of our ancestors with its great power disappeared with him.”

He
paused to look around at the assembled members of the family, and to give them
time to understand what he’d said.  As outcasts, history was not something they
talked about all that much, and in fact many of the younger kobolds had never
been taught more about their heritage than that which was related to the
wondrous stone halls they lived in.

“I
am here to tell you that the Kale Stone is about to be found.  I have seen a
vision in which I saw it.”  There were a lot of surprised looks, but no
murmuring.  “In that vision, the Kale Stone appeared to me.  Its light was
intense, brighter almost than the light of the sun.  In this vision it spoke to
me.  It let me know that it was about to be found.  Soon, the stone of our
ancestors will be restored to our gen.”

There
was an excited buzz among the collected members of the family.  To Kale’s
relief, there were no murmurs of dissent, only wonder.

“What
else did the stone reveal to you?” Kale’s younger brother asked as he sat among
his lifemate and children.  His face showed only the concern of a caring
brother.

Kale
dropped his head and paused for a moment before looking him in the eyes.  “My
dear brother, it told me that I am to reunite the Kale Gen, starting with the
outcasts and the Deep Gen, though I do not know how yet.” 

He
paused again before continuing.  “Perhaps most importantly, the Kale Stone gave
me a warning for all who live below the southern valley.  It said that a great
evil will soon come upon us, and that we must flee to our ancestral home; to
the caverns now inhabited by those who call themselves the Kale Gen.”

The
entire family gasped almost as one.  They trusted him, and that was evident in
their conversations, for the conversation immediately turned to what they would
have to do to abandon their home and flee.

‘Will
we ever be able to return?’ ‘What is this great evil?’ ‘Will the Kale Gen
accept us back among them?’ ‘Will we have to fight?’ ‘Can I take my doll?’