“Is that so?” mused Frinnig. Unaware of the true reasons behind such a move, its implications struck Frinnig as fortunate. “Ninda has long contended for their dual ownership of this property from treaties penned so long ago. I had always wondered why they did not relinquish it sooner. With dual status, it has long been free of taxes and really offered nothing to the country but a pleasant access point to the most heavily traveled trade routes; it still serves that function but not without wasted energies or overcommitment by Ninda. A smart move, really, given that it solidifies a peace with the new king who doesn’t have a long history, making him… unpredictable. Ninda has been weak as of late and could use all of the friends it can get—I suppose this clinches western support for their borders.”
Frinnig went on, realizing that he was still thinking out loud. “Regardless of the reasons behind it, this works to our advantage. King Rutheir is receiving the prophet, Absinthium,” he meandered to his desk and caressed a tightly bound scroll, which lay upon it, “who will bring further consolidation of power to the area.”
He smiled widely at his guests. “We are finally grasping for what has always been a dream of the order: a state controlled by religion. Finally we—those who have the best interests of the people and their well-being—can have total control.” His face twisted into a snarl, “And then, we can use the military might of an entire country to crush threats like this,” he spat, waving his arm at the window to indicate his new enemies. “So soon,” he whispered as he paced, consumed by his thoughts.
The goblin diplomat, tyr-aPt, motioned to his servants. They slipped away as Frinnig’s anger ebbed and he resumed his stance in front of the window, watching the obscenity unfold before him.
tyr-aPt headed straight for the spiraling stairway and departed, his interest in the conversation over. The watchful eyes of Jandul followed him as he departed, but his mouth said nothing; Jandul remained ever distrustful of any new doctrines—especially the new acceptance of the ekthroic races. Jandul would perhaps change his mind after he was allowed to further examine Frinnig’s precious scroll for himself… or perhaps speak firsthand with Absinthium when the arch-mage visited.
Frinnig stood watchful at his perch, muttering curses under his breath. Jandul joined him by the window. Below, they saw the crowd of faithful Luciferians departing their place of worship and ceremony as the evening’s rituals dismissed. The sight of the crowd exiting the temple building brought a smile to his lips, a smile that fell almost as soon as it was birthed.
“What!” he shouted, pressing his nose to the glass. “This is an outrage!”
Some of the people, as they wandered back towards their homes or other places, got caught up in curiosity and walked towards the gathering in the park.
“I will kill him myself!” Frinnig shouted. He dashed from the window to grab his personal effects stashed by his desk; his ceremonial robes flapped with the sudden movement.
Jandul walked calmly to his seething superior, who struggled to find any kind of weapon. He laid a firm hand over his superior’s and looked him in the eye, calming his fumbling hands. “Killing him outright might be unwise at this point. It could still harm us if the crowd discovers that we hired those bandits that attacked, earlier. It would have been less of a problem had they succeeded, but now… you see how these people are devoted to this new teaching. To kill him publicly would make him a hero and raise a banner for all men who oppose our faith to rally under.”
He relinquished his hold on Frinnig, “It would be prudent to let the new king deal with it. I have heard speculation there may even be some sort of link between these dissidents and the death of Harmarty. I know for sure that many people believe it—perhaps we can use such rumors to discredit them. For now, I will give them a message that they are unwelcome on our doorstep. Perhaps some of our faithful will grow faint at my appearance and return to us. This heresy is probably just a passing fancy so long as we don’t fan its spark into flame.”
Frinnig nodded and smoothed his rumpled robes. “You are probably right, my friend,” he said as he sat in his chair behind his desk. “You do as you said and I will continue my studies.” He unrolled the bound parchment scroll and laid it flat before him. “And I will honor my promise; tomorrow I will let you study the Scroll of Absinthium. He has some truly remarkable insight and a prophetic vision. With one or two more reads I should have it perfectly memorized.”
Jandul exited the chamber as Frinnig lit another candle, preparing for an insightful evening of study. He only had to calm his mind first and so he lit a smoldering bowl of opiate laced incense.
Minutes later, Jandul wandered through the crowd that seemed to have grown since he left Frinnig’s office; he carried himself so that his intimidating presence was felt to its fullness. Everything Jandul saw disgusted him, not just because the religious gathering defied his beliefs, but because it revealed the ineffectiveness of the cause that he had devoted himself to for so long.
It took him little time to find the man he was looking for. He headed directly towards the one who everyone knew as Kevin.
Jandul approached as if a man on urgent business. Just before stepping into his personal space, Rashnir slid in and barred the monk’s path. Jandul knew better than to merely push a man of Rashnir’s renown out of his way, despite full confidence in his own training.
Jandul nodded his head at Kevin, who stood just beyond Rashnir, and grunted.
“Kevin,” Rashnir called, not breaking his hard stare with the Luciferian. Locking eyes with Jandul he said, “Someone here wishes to speak with you.”
“Yes, what is it?” Kevin asked over Rashnir’s shoulder, recognizing that this visitor was not friendly.
“You are not welcome here,” stated the low voice of the combat master. “Leave or cease your false teachings.”
“I am sorry, but neither can I leave and neither can I stop. I am bound to my course.”
Kevin tried to speak further, but the chief monk had already turned and departed. After walking a few steps he turned again, reigniting the conversation.
“You will leave and it will be soon.” He paused to stress the severity of his words. “Sooner is safer.” The monk departed, throwing spiteful looks at anyone who met his gaze as he returned to the temple.
Kevin laid a hand upon his friends shoulder. “You know, Rashnir, that confrontation went better than I expected it to. Well, I mean aside from the assassination attempt that was probably their doing.”
“Pity,” mused Rashnir.
“Pity! You would have rather that they succeeded?”
“No, not that,” Rashnir said, “I was just thinking that I wish he would have pushed me.”
Kevin gave him a confused look.
“The fighter in me has always wondered, you know… I’ve seen him around since my days in the Rangers but our paths never crossed—but still, I’ve always wanted to fight that guy.”
Chapter Nine
tyr-aPt slunk through the shadows that choked the light from the long, stone labyrinths of the Luciferian Temple. He preferred the darkest of them; years of preference bred habit. His two servants followed his every move.
They scampered through the passages and darted through the lowest levels until they came to the sub-basement. It was a clay-floored cellar far beneath the mason laid foundations of the building. Here were the lowest reaches of the building and here was where they preferred their hosts quarter them.
The goblins had previously dug through the clay cellar floor and hollowed out a small cavern where they would be comfortable. In the back of this cabin, unbeknownst to their Luciferian hosts, they’d burrowed a tiny passageway down until it met with a major underground highway. The trunk of the great goblin tunnel network which spread all across the area and completely encompassed the city of Grinden went directly below the temple.
At night, an attuned ear could faintly hear the sounds of goblins on various errands of mischief or duty.
The sounds resembled rodents or other scavenger’s scratching and gnawing so no human was aware of the far-reaching network that they’d constructed. The architects were careful and took precautions against sinkholes or other calamities that might reveal the prized chambers which led all the way down to the great King Nvv-Fryyg’s subterranean hall, the crown jewel of Goblin civilization which lay under Jand. Ironically, it was located only a short distance from the late Harmarty’s court, dug firmly into the easternmost leg of the horseshoe shaped mountain range that harbored the royal castle from the harsh elements.
tyr-aPt sent his cohorts on a long walk down the goblin highway so that he could contact his brother in privacy. Only when the slapping of their padded feet fading away did tyr-aPt remove his qâsam, his seeing stone, from the metal amulet he wore around his neck. Fastened by a fine gold-alloy chain, tyr-aPt wore an amulet very similar to his brother grr’SHaalg’s.
Both containers had been finely crafted by skilled metallurgists and appeared to be made as a seamless, engraved bar of precious metal. They could be opened only by someone who knew how to open each particular amulet. The brothers’ amulets each contained a linked qâsam which could only contact each other; their mode of mystic conversation was completely secure, except for those who might overhear a verbal conversation. They’d taken great pains to ensure that there existed no “parent stones” linked to these ones which could potentially eavesdrop.
tyr-aPt spat saliva onto his crystalline, blue qâsam and then tapped its multifaceted edge with a fore claw. The stone awoke and glowed with an inner light as the energies shot across the planes of magic and linked with its mated stone. The face of tyr-aPt’s brother, grr’SHaalg, appeared in the light of the crystal. His image distorted slightly, bending to the facets so that it looked as if one watched grr’SHaalg through the crystal.
grr’SHaalg was the only creature that tyr-aPt felt he could trust. They had always shared a bond that kept them uncannily close and been partners in plots of subterfuge and intrigue. He knew that their trust had been tempered many times over. Together, they had feasted upon the raw entrails of each of their other litter-mates, owing each meal to some unfortunate event that resulted in the fear of a double-cross.
tyr-aPt greatly respected his brother’s skills and his treacherous ability, whose mind operated like a fine machine. He had been part of grr’SHaalg’s schemes time and time again and they usually worked to mutual benefit. grr’SHaalg had the bulk of the brains and tyr-aPt was a willing and loyal part of his plans. If he was ever disloyal, grr’SHaalg would spot tyr-aPt’s treachery before he himself even knew it was there, and have his brother devoured. Still, they needed each other. grr’SHaalg could not be everywhere all at once and tyr-aPt was happy to be an extension of their shared persona.
[How goes it, brother?] tyr-aPt asked his brother in their native goblin language.
[Things go well, brother,] grr’SHaalg replied, his voice emitting as harmonic resonance through the qâsam.
[You know that the ruling government of Ninda agreed to give all of its interests in Grinden over to Jand,] he continued, [I was with Rutheir at the meeting. It was moderated by Absinthium. I tell you, this wizard is like none I have encountered before; we have done well to ally with him. He claims to have the direct power of the demonic council at his disposal, and I think that it must be true. The spell that he cast was flawless; not one mind on the Nindan council of democratic aristocrats could even think without permission from the wizard.
[The entire group came to the meeting with Rutheir believing that he would give them gifts in exchange for continued healthy relations. The fat gluttons ended up giving away an entire district of valuable land and thought the whole thing was their idea.
[Absinthium departed for Briganik after that but will be back in a week. He is going to report to his master, beh’-tsah, and seek council on certain issues. There is an issue of possible opposition, which our spies have reported. Apparently, a group of people in Grinden that claim themselves as devotees to this krist-chin religion has surfaced?]
[Yes,] tyr-aPt replied, [that is the primary reason I contacted you. They have certainly ruffled Frinnig’s undergarments.]
[Hmmm…interesting,] grr’SHaalg mused as he scratched a polyp on his neck. [Absinthium seems to think that anyone under such a banner poses a serious threat. He and his master have apparently kept a wary eye for anyone claiming this faith; there are very few around and I am surprised that this cult can spread at all with the Luciferians constantly hunting them. What more can you tell me about this dead religion?]
tyr-aPt paused for thought before delivering the news. [They are right to fear them, from what I have seen this night. They multiplied their numbers immensely in just one meeting and so firmly set their new converts in opposition to Luciferian doctrines that those humans might never return to the Order. In less than two hours’ time, their numbers went from four to almost seven hundred, and their leader survived an assassination attempt unscathed with total loss of life to the brigands that Jandul hired.]
[Seven hundred!] exclaimed grr’SHaalg, [they multiply faster than one of Nvv-Fryyg’s whores!] He began to lose himself in thought and muttered some nonsensical words; they came through as incomprehensible through the stone’s vibrations.
grr’SHaalg grinned as a thought took hold in his mind. [It matters little, brother. I have seen the power that this wizard wields and I assure you that there is nothing to fear. He will crush them all whether they resist or not; Absinthium will kill them one by one in his personal chambers and perhaps drag them to the council of demons so that they may feast upon their bodies.] The goblin giggled at the mental picture and continued, [You and me brother. We will play this out and finally gain the seats of power that we deserve.]
[Real power and authority,] tyr-aPt said, [and here I was happy with mere material gain.]
[Think loftier and more grandiose,] grr’SHaalg chided. [By the time this power shift ends, you will sit upon a throne made of Nvv-Fryyg’s marrow-sucked bones, and I will preside over all of the goblin kings as their chief—we will be worshiped by both goblins and men. Real power this time. Absinthium and the demonic council will be my only ceiling. Think of it; veritable goblin god-hood is within our grasp.]
[You and me, to the end.]
grr’SHaalg digressed, [I am glad that I never devoured you, brother tyr-aPt. I had considered it once. But it is so nice to have someone to share visions of this magnitude with.]
[Long life to you too, brother,] tyr-aPt replied as the light went out of their linked crystals.
***
As the evening wore on, grr’SHaalg crept through the castle which Rutheir, King of Jand, now owned and occupied. He found Rutheir alone in his sitting room, pouring over texts and maps, no doubt trying to work through details in his mind, wondering how this grand plan would work out and what the possible fail-safe contingencies might exist.
grr’SHaalg sat in a chair opposite of him and waited for Rutheir to finish his current task. After a moment, Rutheir looked up at the goblin wearing the purple fez.
“I bring news from Grinden,” he said to the king.
Rutheir did not speak and waited for him to continue.
“There seems to be events happening in the town that could complicate our plans for Grinden. The group of renegades that Absinthium mentioned might somehow pose a threat to the Church has infiltrated the town. The Temple plays such a vital role in our plans that we must devise something quickly.”
The king glared at him from the corner of his eye. He knew that this was the true king of the goblin kingdom. The symbiotic subterranean kingdom dwelt just beneath his own; in a similar manner, Rutheir had previously ruled Jand in every aspect but official title. That fool Harmarty could barely command a servant to urinate properly. Previously, though, Rutheir ruled through subtle manipulation and couldn’t let that simpleton out of his sight for fear of Harmarty doing something to sever the kingd
om’s diplomatic ties or burn the entire nation to the ground.
Rutheir paused insightfully, pondering the recent chain of events. The first thing he felt after they discovered Harmarty’s corpse was gratitude. Following the King’s death, the nation’s aristocrats suddenly showed ambition for the throne. With the royalty destroyed an immediate power vacuum opened, one that a man of Rutheir’s talents could easily fill.
The upper class had been previously content to hold positions under Harmarty, but delusions of grandeur stirred them up like sharks with blood in the water. After a couple of threats to specific individuals, and a few choice digits removed from stubborn individuals via crude methods, Rutheir solidified his reign.
With the warring nobles cowed into submission and the snobbish aristocrats who deemed themselves too political for physical violence satisfied by Rutheir’s claim to the throne by an admission of Harmarty as his sexual partner, the struggle for the throne had been short lived. The acknowledgement was true enough, even if the act was never consummated. Their relationship was more humiliating to Harmarty than to Rutheir and usually resulted in Harmarty bursting into childish sobs and uncontrollable weeping; he’d blubber the names of individuals who’d harmed him throughout his childhood and lapse catatonic.
The only problem now was that he received a plethora of unwelcome sexual advances from the many, landed gentry from across the kingdom. Rutheir used whatever manipulation he could but was never serious about pursuing that lifestyle. He’d not ruled out any sort of hedonism, but his tastes ran so much more violent and visceral than what he’d been offered by the perverse men of his country.
“Tell me what has happened,” Rutheir demanded, “and then we can plan our course of action accordingly.”
grr’SHaalg gave Rutheir a summarized version of the information gleaned from his brother tyr-aPt. He did not disclose the source or the fact that he possessed a set of seeing stones. Such technology remained extremely rare and expensive.
The Kakos Realm Collection Page 17
