by Fuse
“Perhaps it was for the better we did not side with them, then.”
“I would say so, yes!”
“Indeed, indeed…”
Gabil basked in the ego-massaging from his men. Then he let out a hearty laugh. As far as he was concerned, he wasn’t defeated at all.
“Come to think of it,” another man said, “I do find it odd, Sir Gabil, that you have remained at the rank of warrior lord for all this time.”
“What?” Gabil replied, sneering at the lizardman.
“N-no, I…I do not mean you are unworthy of the post, my lord. Quite the opposite! I just feel it a wasted opportunity of sorts, you serving that feeble old man for all this time.”
“Keep going.”
Now Gabil was on his side. The lizardman straightened his posture, relief coursing over him.
“I feel, Sir Gabil, it is about time we allow our chief to go into retirement and establish you as the new lizardman chief. Ah, if only that were already the case! Then, perhaps, we would not be so thrown by the orcs as we are now.”
The others quickly stepped up to agree.
“Exactly! Once Sir Gabil shows his true strength, that stubborn old fool will soon take the hint and step aside. It will be a new era for the lizardman people, and nothing would make me happier than seeing it come to life!”
“Very true! It is time for a new wind to blow across our homeland!”
Gabil nodded at the shouted adulation. He felt, finally, that the time was ripe.
“Ah,” he said, “so you were all thinking the same thing? I was just considering that the time had come to act myself. Will you be willing to fight alongside me, then?”
He sized up his men. They were all looking at him, eyes full of passion. He liked what he saw. They were envisioning a new epoch in lizardman history, one they would have a direct part in engineering. Soon, Gabil felt, they would be his most trusted advisers, offering the support he would need as he led his species to a new generation of bountiful glory.
“We will, sir,” one said, “if you are willing to lead us.”
That was the chance Gabil was waiting for. He nodded sagely.
“Then the new era is here,” he proclaimed. “Very well! Let us all stand together!”
The echoes of the ensuing cheers lingered for what seemed like minutes afterward.
The fool had finally climbed onstage. The farce was about to begin.
CHAPTER 4
DISENGAGING GEARS
The lizardman chief nodded at the latest war report.
It had been four days since his conference with Soei. Three days remained until the two armies would come together formally, but for that day, it looked like they could pass yet another night without any major losses.
The orcs’ attack was, as they expected, severe. The corridors were teeming with them, pouring in like a flood. As labyrinthine as the caverns were, that didn’t matter as much if it was covered from corner to corner with the enemy. They had set traps in some of the chambers to whittle down the numbers a little, and that was about all the offense they had attempted.
But not a single lizardman life had yet been lost. They had focused on the defense effort, trying to keep casualties as low as possible, and it was paying off. Their knowledge of the caverns played a major role, as did the lizardmen’s ever-rising morale. The network of cave paths ensured that their escape routes and emergency access passages remained untouched. The teams facing the brunt of the orc attack switched in and out in shifts, ensuring that only the bare minimum of troops engaged the enemy at any one time.
The lizardmen had their chief’s uncommon leadership skills to thank for their success so far. But the chief refused to rest on his laurels. He knew that things were still under control mainly due to the promise of coming reinforcements. The warriors who had actually fought the orcs reported on the astonishing amount of strength their foes exhibited—a far cry from anything an orc should be capable of. It was clearly the result of their orc lord’s special skills, and if they had opted for a full-frontal clash, the lizardmen would have been decimated.
They had lost nobody, but only because of their single-minded focus on defense. The lizardmen’s elite troops had not seen their defensive networks penetrated yet, but with the sheer numbers they faced, they couldn’t let their guard down for a moment. They had to keep their foes from growing any more powerful, no matter what.
For now, everyone among the lizardmen had to admit that the chief was right. He had strict orders in place—if any fighter was wounded, he was to be replaced on the front lines immediately. Anyone dying in battle would be consumed by the orcs, and that would only make them stronger. Everyone understood that they needed to be careful, thorough, and that the defensive lines must be protected at all costs.
And it was only for three more days. Three more days until the reinforcements came, and they could stage a counterattack. Then they could use the caverns to their advantage and fight back—or, at least, devote more men to offense instead of defense. Little by little, they all believed, it would turn the tables and bring this seemingly endless stalemate to an end.
It was a hopeful scenario for the chief to picture, one that relieved him a little.
And it was at that moment when an aide told him that Gabil was back…
Gabil was beside himself with anger.
What is this? he thought as he hurried to the chief. The proud lizardmen, burrowing in their holes like cowards, hiding from the pigs… Well, no worries now. I have returned. And now we can fight with the pride of true lizardmen.
“It gladdens me to see you again, Gabil. Were you able to gain the confidence of the goblins?”
“Yes, my lord! They only number approximately seven thousand, but I have their support, and they await our orders.”
“I see. Hopefully they will be of service to us.”
“Are we off to battle, then?” Gabil asked, his tone already growing confrontational. He was back, and he had no interest in letting the pigs have the initiative. He was sure the chief—his father—had been waiting for his arrival with bated breath.
But the reply he received was nothing like what he expected.
“Mm? No, not yet. While you were away, we received a request to form an alliance. Their forces are set to arrive here three days from now. I plan to wait for them, formally agree to the alliance, then discuss strategy at that point. After that, we will go on a full offensive.”
The news was a complete surprise to Gabil. It did not sit well.
What? Our chief wasn’t waiting for me at all?!
Relying on these mystery reinforcements from who knows where, all for the sake of defeating a stupid little herd of pigs? It was unacceptable to Gabil.
“My chief, if I take the lead, the pigs will be eliminated in a flash. Please, give me your order to strike them down!”
“No,” came the cold reply. “We begin three days from now. You had best rest yourself today. You must be exhausted.”
The chief was wholly uninterested in the idea. Gabil seethed with anger. Tossing him aside in anticipation of these reinforcements? Unforgivable.
“Chief… Father, you have to get ahold of yourself! I fear your advanced age is making you fail to see reality!”
“What?”
“What is the meaning of this, Sir Gabil?” the head of the chief’s guard asked, while the chief himself eyed his son suspiciously.
Gabil sized the two up, his gaze filled with pity. He felt oddly calm now. He had been patient with his father as the leader up to this point. There was much about him that he still respected—even he had to acknowledge his innate leadership skills.
He certainly did not hate his father, the leader of all lizardmen. If anything, it was his desire to earn the praise of his chief that drove him from day to day. The refusal to give him any rankled Gabil. In that case, he reasoned, let me stand above him and make him recognize me. That was the best way to word it, though Gabil’s pride made that difficult for
him to accept, deep down.
He nodded, then sent the signal to his men.
“Father,” he bellowed across the chamber, “your era has ended. Starting today, I will serve as the new chief of the lizardmen!”
With the declaration, a battalion of goblins swarmed into the chamber, stone-tipped spears aimed at the chief and his guard. Gabil’s own elite guard stood by him, ensuring there would be no unwelcome resistance from the outside hallway.
“Gabil, what is the meaning of this?!” the chief spat out, at a higher octave than usual. It was a rarity to hear—and it only made Gabil feel even more superior.
“Father, I thank you for everything you’ve done for us. Now, I want you to leave the rest to me and enjoy life in retirement.”
With another order, Gabil’s team disarmed the chief and his guard.
“Answer me, Gabil! What is the meaning of all this?!”
“Perhaps, Father, using our mazelike corridors to fight the orcs was a good idea. But it spreads our fighters out too sparsely around the entire structure. We have no way of staging a useful counterattack, and it dooms us to exhaustion sooner or later.”
“Don’t be ridiculous… I told you, once we confer three days from now, we will get back on the—”
“Too little, too late! We are lizardmen! We are strong, and that strength is at its best in our homeland, the marshes. It is in those muddy, flooded regions where we are at our most mobile, and our enemy at its slowest. Our greatest of natural weapons. And what ruler of the marshes simply holes up in the dark and waits for their problems to go away?!”
He took the chief’s weapon in hand, a spear that served as the symbol of the lizardman leader. It was a Vortex Spear, a magical weapon to be wielded only by the strongest of tribal warriors, and as far as Gabil was concerned, he was born to hold it.
Now he could feel the power within it, a sure sign that the spear had accepted its new master for all time. Looking down at the chief and his guard, he held his new weapon high in the air for them to see.
“The spear has accepted me. Lizardmen require no alliances! Allow me to prove that to you!”
“Wait, Gabil! I cannot allow you to do this! At least wait until the reinforcements arrive!”
“You may leave the rest to me,” he replied, ignoring the shouted plea. “You may find things a tad uncomfortable until the battle is over, but do try to hold out for me.”
“Sir Gabil! My brother! You dare to betray us?!”
“Could we save family concerns for later, my sister? I am not betraying anyone. As I told you, I am going to show you what the new era will be for us lizardmen.”
“That’s nonsense!” replied Gabil’s younger sister, the head of the chief’s guard. “Everyone knows what a talented warrior you are. Why now, of all times? Is this what you truly want for us?!”
“Do you think I am joking? Get out of my sight. Take her away.”
He could hear his sister shouting as the goblins hauled her out of the room. It didn’t matter to him any longer. He had no intention of killing her or anything of the like, but he didn’t want anyone in his way. He would defeat the foe that the former chief found impossible to overthrow. The results would turn him into a new hero, the perfect event for establishing his position at the peak of lizardman society.
Then, he thought as his heart raced, my father will admit it. He will admit that he was proud of me all along!
His men were already dealing with anyone who sided with the chief, with goblins to hammer the message home. They wouldn’t be expecting it anyway, their attention too focused on the orcs in front of them. They’d never expect their fellow lizardmen to attack them through the emergency tunnels.
Before long, the news had arrived—all opposition had been suppressed. Gabil sat down on his father’s seat, the picture of calm composure. And then, as if waiting for this exact timing:
“How’s that chair feel to you, then?”
“Ah, Sir Laplace. Thanks for your hard work. It went even easier than I expected.”
“Oh, lovely, lovely. Glad to be of service.”
It was a masked man, one with an asymmetrical smile that made it look like he was sneering at anyone he showed it to. His clothing stuck out, too, clown-like with its rabble of colors and patterns. It was a ridiculous sight, but Gabil was unfazed. This man, Laplace, was in the employ of Gelmud, the man Gabil loved more than almost anyone else.
He had first appeared before Gabil as he was returning to his homeland with his newly earned goblins. “Laplace is the name,” he began. “I used to be vice president of the Moderate Jesters, a group of…jacks-of-all-trades, you could say. Lord Gelmud has hired me to serve you—anything you need, I provide.”
This Laplace did with efficiency, freeing Gabil’s men from the dungeon and providing regular reports on the lizardmen’s moves. It was Laplace who removed the seal on the Vortex Spear for him, ensuring his coup ended in success.
The original plan called for Gabil and his elite guard to suppress the chief and his men while the main force was out fighting in the marshes, but with the army hunkering down in the caverns, that idea was a bust. It angered Gabil immensely, but Laplace offered an alternative path. He brought the goblins, and Gabil’s own troops, right to the chief himself without arousing any attention. It was like magic, the way he led them through the escape corridors without a single lizardman noticing.
In short, Laplace was the triggerman for the entire coup.
“Aw, c’mon, Gabil,” Laplace laughed. “I’m really nobody that special, no.” But he was to Gabil, this man working for Gelmud.
“Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha. Enough modesty, Sir Laplace,” Gabil replied. “We are coworkers, after all, under the watchful eye of Lord Gelmud. Let’s make it a useful relationship.”
“Sir Gabil, we have all the tribal leaders in our grasp.”
It was the news Gabil had been waiting to hear. Now, at long last, every branch of the military was under his control.
“Oops! Sorry if I’m in the way here. I’d best head off to my next job, then…”
“Ah yes. Sorry to detain you, Sir Laplace. I think it’s time I whip those orcs and show my strength to Lord Gelmud, once and for all!”
With one final, sneering bow, Laplace disappeared from the cavern.
“You were quite helpful to me, Laplace. Lord Gelmud has so many talented people working for him… I’d best hold up my end of the bargain, then.”
Gabil stood up, supremely confident. It was time to attack. He couldn’t even imagine defeat at this point, and the advice from his father failed to reach his ears. His loyal followers were now cheering his every move, especially the younger lizardmen who formed his most passionate support base.
He called each tribe leader to his chamber, ordering them to prepare for an all-out attack. To teach those pigs exactly how daring and brave the lizardmen truly were, as he put it. The order was greeted with cheers from every tribe, weary from days of siege warfare. Their former chief’s order to hold the fort and prevent casualties at all costs had, ironically enough, made it all the easier for Gabil to consolidate his own power. He was giving the people what they wanted, and that made things go his way.
Gladdened by the response, Gabil sat back down. His time was here. He was confident about that. Defeating the orcs, at this point, was just a minor detail.
How could this happen…?
Waves of despair rankled the chief.
Soei’s final advice—to watch his back—was referring to this, no doubt. He thought he had the people under his full control. Even the more hawkish were faithfully following his orders, solidifying their defenses. And then his own son betrayed him.
Desperation overtook him. This was a terrible situation. If it kept up, the lizardmen would be ruined before tomorrow, much less in three days.
He looked down at his chief guard—his other child, Gabil’s sister. She noticed the signal and nodded. “Go!” he shouted, and the chief guard immediately slipped out of h
er shackles and ran off.
The alliance forces needed to be notified as soon as possible. They might get caught up in all of this otherwise. He had to prevent that. His pride as a lizardman, and as a leader, demanded it.
That envoy, the man named Soei, didn’t bother hiding his aura from him. Once they were out of this natural fortress, they might be able to follow it to wherever he was now. It was a slim chance, but it was all he had to offer his chief guard.
The lizardmen guarding the dungeon had taken measures to restrain both of them, but—perhaps out of distaste at the idea of abusing their former leader—they were not doing so with very much fervor. She quickly took advantage of that to escape.
For now, the chief felt relieved. He would have to stay here; that was his responsibility for now. All he could do was pray his daughter could complete the mission he gave her.
Only seven days. That was what he promised, and he had failed. He cursed his own worthlessness, there in his cell, and hoped it would not lead his allies to abandon him. Soei offered that alliance because, to his master, the lizardmen held some sort of value. If this coup made him change his mind, that would seal all their fates.
If this battle costs us the lives of those faithful to Gabil, so be it. Perhaps they had it coming. I just wish we could keep our women and children safe…
They had yet to even formally enact the alliance. The chief fully understood that he was wishing for the stars. But one desire still ruled over him—the desire that this tragedy wouldn’t spell doom for all the tribes he oversaw. He felt he owed them that much, after all these years, and no one could blame him for it.
The chief had a good idea of what was about to happen. Once Gabil was in control of all the tribes, he would immediately order an attack. They would have nothing left in the corridors, not even any defense mechanisms. Without any fresh soldiers to replace the wearied frontline fighters, and against an orc force that grew stronger as the fight wore on, it would only be a matter of time before their defense began faltering.
