The Ramshuk (Heirs of Legacy Book 3)

by Paul Lauritsen

“They are fearsome weapons,” Tarq agreed, gripping the handhold and raising the claws for an imaginary attack. His eyes widened slightly as he inspected the serrated blades. “And though I am no expert, it looks to me as though these would leave terrible marks exactly like those of a bear.”

  “Yes,” Koah agreed. “An impressive job all around. Who made these for you?”

  “I did,” Garnuk said with a rumbling laugh. “I borrowed the forge of a villager.”

  Tarq ran a hand over the metal gauntlet reverently, then tested the edge of one of the blades with a clawed finger. “Remarkable. Masterful work, general.”

  “Yes,” Koah agreed, handing the weapon back to Garnuk. “Do you intend to use these from now on?”

  Garnuk shook his head. “They are not as versatile or useful as a sword and shield, or even an axe. I do not even know how long they would hold up in battle. But they served me well during the hunt.”

  Koah nodded gravely. “Yes, well indeed. Especially if the king is dead by your hand and no one is the wiser. It must remain so.”

  “Even among Shadow Squadron?” Tarq asked, looking up from the other gauntlet. “It would do our warriors good to hear of a success that was born of their efforts gathering information and spying.”

  “Even from them,” Garnuk said flatly. “No word of this can reach the Sthan, or even other vertaga. Not yet. I will inform Chief Carh of course, but no one else should know at this stage.”

  “Very well,” Tarq acquiesced. “Now, much has happened while you were gone – ”

  “Ah,” Garnuk said, remembering. “Yes, about that. While I was gone. How were you and Koah able to manage without me, Tarq?”

  Tarq and Koah exchanged an uncertain glance. “Well enough,” Tarq said finally. “We were able to compile the information and interpret some of it. But it is an enormous task and very time consuming.”

  “Not to mention draining,” Koah grunted. “My head has never ached so terribly or so consistently as during the time you were gone, general.”

  “Then we shall have to rectify that,” Garnuk decided, sitting back and glancing at the fire.

  “I do not mean to say that we were incapable,” Koah hurried to add, worry edging his voice. “Just that it was difficult for us to keep up.”

  “But we managed,” Tarq agreed.

  Garnuk laughed, perceiving what his captains feared. “Do not worry. I am not thinking of replacing you,” he assured them. “You performed admirably while I was gone. No, what I meant is that I will be staying here from now on and working with you two and Danur on the intelligence side of things.”

  “Then who will carry out raids and other missions?” Koah asked. “I thought you said that we were preparing to have a greater effect on this war? We cannot reach that end by sneaking and spying alone!”

  “There will still be missions, raids, perhaps even battles,” Garnuk said dismissively. “I just won’t lead them. No, I have decided to form a special task force to execute these missions. It will be headed by Lun, who acquitted himself well during our four-week mission.”

  “Lun cannot do this alone,” Tarq muttered. “What about your other companion . . . Vars, was it?”

  “Aye, it was,” Garnuk agreed sorrowfully. “Sadly, he was lost while scouting the West Bank. A group of riders chanced upon him while he was sneaking up to the fortress.”

  Koah swore quietly. “We can ill afford the loss of warriors. Our force is small.”

  “He did not die in vain,” Garnuk replied, shrugging. “He completed the mission. Besides, he was starting to question our overall objective. Saying that maybe the Ramshuk had the right of it after all.”

  Tarq frowned. “Then it’s just as well he is gone. We may not be able to afford losing warriors, but losing one as a traitor would be nothing short of disastrous.”

  “Aye,” Garnuk agreed. Koah nodded reluctantly, but Garnuk noticed that his eyes darted between the two of them, as though he found something concerning in their callous view of Vars’ demise. But whatever the Banuk Sentinel’s opinions were, he did not voice them.

  “Anyway,” the Exile said, moving on, “We need to evaluate those warriors stationed at the base here and decide which are suited to accompanying Lun on missions or working under his command.”

  “Should we also evaluate them to see if they are more fit than Lun to command?” Koah asked sharply. “He is not the brightest or strongest.”

  “No,” Garnuk admitted. “He is not. But he is capable, methodical, and takes orders well. I also trust his instincts in matters like these.”

  “And he is proven besides,” Tarq added. “He helped you trail the Butcher to his lair.”

  Garnuk nodded. “Precisely. And he finished Vars’ mission when he fell.” The Exile did not mention the mission had been eliminating Vars.

  “We will begin evaluating our warriors, then,” Koah agreed. “You should know, general, that Chief Carh has been asking after you frequently. Your extended absence has been of great concern to him.”

  “I’m going to him next,” Garnuk replied shortly. “We can discuss anything else that has happened when I get back.”

  He stood, and the others did as well, filing out of the room. As Tarq reached the door, Garnuk remembered another matter he had wanted to bring up with the captain.

  “Tarq, a moment if you have it,” he grunted. “About our northern spy camps.”

  To his credit, Koah hardly flinched at the request, where once excluding him would have brought distrust and furious glares. They were growing, Garnuk realized with pride. In time, maybe his two rival captains would become more than just soldiers who happened to be fighting for the same cause. He shook the thought aside though as Tarq shut the door and they resumed their seats by the fire.

  “The information regarding the Sthan king’s hunt,” the Exile murmured, keeping his voice down. “What was the source?”

  Tarq shifted uncomfortably. “A human informant.”

  “Hmm. This is not unusual, is it? Have our spies not recruited a number of lowlifes and tortured others for information?”

  “They have,” Tarq agreed, “But this situation was a little different than the others.”

  “Explain,” the general said flatly.

  “Our spy was approached by the informant,” Tarq explained, his voice dropping so low Garnuk had to lean closer to hear. “We were sought out by him. He wanted us to have that information, and to make use of it. I do not understand why.”

  “Interesting,” Garnuk murmured. “Did we get anything in writing from him? Anything with a seal or a signature?”

  “No,” Tarq replied, “Not at the time. But, our ram did mention the human said his benefactors would be interested in doing further business with us, if we proved our worth.”

  “Further business?” Garnuk mused. “Benefactors too? Perhaps we have stumbled on something, Tarq. Find out more about this source if you can, but do it quietly. Was there anything distinctive about the informant? Anything we could recognize him by?”

  “He wore a mask,” Tarq grunted, “But that’s not surprising. Our ram didn’t report much else.”

  “Tell him to keep working with this informant,” the Exile decided. “It is an opportunity we cannot afford to waste.”

  Tarq nodded, rising once more. “I will. Is that everything general?”

  “Yes, you may go.”

  The captain saluted briskly, then marched to the door and let himself out, closing it quietly behind him. The general sat there for a moment, contemplating what he had learned, then remembered the matter of his meeting with Carh. Quickly, Garnuk stood and buckled on his weapons, armoring up for another confrontation with the powerful Banuk chieftain.

  Once he was prepared, the Exile strode quickly and confidently out through Shadow Squadron’s headquarters, radiating strength. Those warriors who were already up noticed him, welcoming him back warmly. Garnuk nodded respectfully to each of them, but did not stop.

  Banta Kod
u was bustling with activity, the stronghold especially. Garnuk had to shove his way through thick throngs of vertaga in the hallways and passages of the stronghold, and it took him longer than usual to reach the council chamber. When he did, the guards barred his way, their leader stepping forward to challenge him. It was a different vertag than the one that Garnuk had encountered on previous visits.

  “General Garnuk, here to speak with Chief Carh,” the Exile said quietly.

  The guard stiffened, glancing back at the door. “The chief is busy.”

  “The matter is urgent, and he has been waiting some time for me to return.”

  The guard relented. “I suppose I can check and see if he will grant you an audience.”

  “Then do that,” Garnuk murmured. “And quickly,” he added with a slight growl.

  The guard gulped and retreated into the council chamber. Garnuk smirked to himself, then crossed his massive arms over his chest and stared at the closed door. The guards either side of it lowered their weapons to bar the way again, clearly put off by his show of force.

  It was only a moment before the guard captain reappeared from within the hall.

  “The chief will see you now,” he announced, gesturing for Garnuk to enter.

  Garnuk stepped forward quickly, shoving through the doors before the guards had time to open them. The room was much as he remembered, save for the fact that on this occasion the only occupant was Chief Carh himself, reclined in his customary seat by the raised hearth.

  “General!” the chief called, raising a hand in greeting. “The Sentinels told me you had returned.”

  Garnuk inclined his head respectfully. “Yes, great chief. I returned late last night. Thankfully, your Sentinels helped me find the gates.”

  Carh chuckled. “Yes, even to us, who have lived our whole lives within these walls and know all the Banuk secrets of concealment, the entrance is hard to find. Please, take a seat and warm yourself.”

  Garnuk wordlessly ascended to the raised hearth and sank into the chair to Carh’s immediate left. The fire in front of them was large and warm, the flames writhing energetically, hungrily devouring the logs they raced over.

  “You were gone much longer than you originally led me to believe,” Carh said suddenly.

  Right to the point, Garnuk observed, smiling to himself. He did like the Banuk chieftain’s blunt nature. It saved a great deal of time during these meetings. “An unexpected opportunity arose after the first mission was completed. I did not deliberately mislead you.”

  Carh nodded slowly. “I had hoped as much. Tell me, Garnuk, what have you been doing for the last month?”

  It was not so much a request, Garnuk realized, as an order. He glanced at Carh, noting the stiff lines of his body, the guarded expression he wore on his rugged face.

  The way his left hand casually rested on the handle of his war club.

  “Before I begin,” Garnuk replied, “I must have your word that none of what I tell you will leave this room, or be repeated to any other vertaga, even your kin.”

  “Do you not trust me?” Carh asked, raising an eyebrow. “The Banuk have not survived so long by being stupid, Exile.”

  “It is not that I don’t trust you,” Garnuk assured him, “It is that the information I have could do immense damage in the wrong hands. You might not be a liability, but one of your advisors? A disgruntled servant who happens to overhear you? One of the Banuk elders who disapproves of my actions and involvement in this war? It is a risk we cannot afford to take if we are to be successful in this endeavor.”

  Carh watched Garnuk for a long moment, then shrugged. “Very well. You have my word, Exile. Now, what did you find on your journey?”

  Garnuk told the Banuk chief about the discovery of the varloug prans, spending a great deal of time describing the beasts and their capabilities. Carh asked many questions about their size and speed, as well as their intelligence. While Garnuk could not answer all of the chief’s questions, he responded to as many as he could with accuracy. Throughout the conversation, Garnuk did his best to read his host’s mood, but Carh remained remarkably impassive. Every so often though, the Exile would catch a quick flicker of doubt or fear in the piercing gaze that was focused on him.

  After he had explained everything there was to know about the varloug pran riders, Garnuk moved on to his second mission, killing the Sthan king. He rearranged the order of things to imply he had heard about the opportunity and then decided to go north, rather than going to warn the West Bank and then being told of the Harvest Hunt. He did not mention his part in warning the men of the West Bank what was coming, only that Vars had been killed while scouting the fortress. Carh had scowled unhappily at this failure, but let it pass with little comment.

  He listened to Garnuk’s account of the journey to Etares with rapt attention though, quizzing Garnuk on the state of the kingdom, the demeanor of the villagers, the number of soldiers he had encountered on the road, and much more besides. Garnuk answered every question, all the while wondering what Carh’s interest in such answers was. The Banuk would not leave their hidden city, so why would they be interested in knowledge like this? The only ones outside of Shadow Squadron this information could prove useful to was the current Ramshuk.

  As he realized this, Garnuk hesitated in his tale, though he was right in the middle of describing how he had forged the clawed gauntlets he used to assassinate the king.

  “What is it?” Carh snapped irritably. “Don’t stop now, it’s finally getting interesting.”

  “I’m sorry,” Garnuk said, shaking his head as though to clear it. “I just thought of something that I meant to take care of this morning. It is a small matter, though, and can wait until we conclude our business.”

  Without an appreciable pause, Garnuk dove right back into his story, describing how he had forged the gauntlets, defeated the village watch, and escaped north into the Midwood. He omitted most of the days he had spent waiting for the hunt to begin, but did include details from the scouting patrol and the traders he had encountered.

  When he reached the day of the harvest hunt, Garnuk paused to collect his thoughts for a moment. Then, he began describing in great detail the events of that fateful day. How he had led the king and his guards deep into the forest, how he had ambushed them. How the men and their steeds died, what the wounds he inflicted look like. Even an account of his actions after the fight in making sure that nothing would be traced back to him or any other vertaga.

  By the time Garnuk finished his extraordinary tale, his mouth was dry and his voice harsh and raspy. It had been a long time since he had spoken at such length. He wished there was a water skin to be had, but there was none. Instead, he licked his dry lips and did his best to ignore his parched mouth.

  Carh said nothing for a very long time, studying the flames before him, avoiding Garnuk’s eyes. Garnuk waited patiently, knowing that he had given the Banuk chieftain quite a lot to process. After several minutes though, Carh stirred and looked at Garnuk, shaking his massive horned head slowly.

  “I must admit Garnuk, I doubted you when you did not return sooner. I thought you had abandoned us, that your plans had gone wrong, and that you had doomed all vertaga. And when I heard of the varloug prans . . . well, it seemed perhaps the Ramshuk’s forces would be unbeatable in battle.”

  “But they still lost at the West Bank,” Garnuk pointed out. “Twenty riders, and nearly every vertag in that force was eliminated.” He frowned then. Something Carh had said did not sound quite right.

  Carh nodded. “Yes. Now that you have killed the Sthan king . . . I see I was wrong about you. You are fighting for all vertaga. And very skillfully. Unfortunately, it is already too late to go back.”

  “What?” Garnuk asked, blinking.

  Carh winced and lifted his club into his lap. “You are not the only visitor I have had this week, Garnuk. The Black Hawks are in Banta Kodu as well. And they are here for you.”

  Chapter 25:

&nb
sp; The Hunters Return

  Garnuk did not move for a moment, just stared at the Banuk chief in disbelief.

  He should have known better than to wander in here without warning, without scouting the situation first. But surely Koah would have told him if something was amiss . . . or perhaps Koah had been too absorbed in managing Shadow Squadron to notice.

  Fury welled up within Garnuk as he focused on Carh again, pulsing through his veins until it seemed they would burst. The Banuk chief did not shrink from his gaze, but Garnuk knew this two-faced, lack-horned traitor too well. In his eyes, there was fear, uncertainty, and even a tinge of regret.

  Then, aware that his enemies could very well be watching them, even now, he sat back calmly in his seat, as though Carh’s news were of no consequence whatsoever. The Banuk chief appeared uneasy at this lack of response, fingering his club nervously.

  “Where are they now?” Garnuk asked softly. “In the city, perhaps? Right outside this chamber?”

  “Close enough,” Carh replied. “But not that close.”

  “After everything I have done,” Garnuk said, lowering his voice to a fierce whisper, “For our race, for your people and for mine, you betray me? After all we have discussed regarding the Usurper and how he will bring ruin on us all?”

  “It was not just me,” Carh murmured. “Nor was it truly my decision in the end.”

  “The elders,” Garnuk snarled. “They are responsible?”

  “Yes,” Carh confirmed quickly. “They forced me into this, I suspect they are the ones that contacted the Black Hawks in the first place.”

  “It is not as though they could have found the city on their own,” Garnuk agreed. “Although they did come close not long after I arrived.”

  “But they did not find it,” Carh countered. “And now,” he added furiously, “The greatest defense of Banta Kodu, the fact that it is hidden, may well be lost.”

  Garnuk swore, his mind racing. “How long have the Black Hawks been here? Have they sent any messages back to Dun Carryl?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Then there is still hope. If we destroy them all – ”