Tovak approached the two sentries standing outside the warchief’s tent. Both guards—a dark-haired giant of a Dvergr and a smaller blond fellow—stepped in front of him, snapping their shields up and staring at him with warning eyes that told him to stop.
“State your name and business,” the giant ordered. His voice was deep, almost unnaturally so. Both seemed alert and focused on their duty. Gazing at the giant, Tovak decided he was the tallest Dvergr he’d ever seen.
“I am Tovak Stonehammer, of the Baelix Guard, reporting as ordered.”
“We were told to expect you,” the other guard said curtly. “Wait here.”
They both lowered their shields, and the blond stepped back and opened the tent flap, poking his head inside. “Tovak, of the Baelix Guard, sir.”
“Send him in,” a stern voice called out from inside. Tovak’s heart fluttered. He recognized it as Karach’s, and there was no humor there. In fact, the warchief sounded irritated, angry even. Tovak swallowed hard and stood up straight, prepared for whatever the warchief had in store for him. He’d face his fate like a warrior.
The sentry pulled the tent flap back fully. “You may enter.”
Tovak took a deep breath, marched determinedly through the tent flap, and ducked inside. The interior of the tent was large, open. A magnificent patterned rug covered the grass. Lamps, suspended from the multiple support posts, filled the interior with warm, yellowed light.
Struugar stood a half-dozen paces inside, before a large central table. The captain’s back was to Tovak, but he turned an expressionless face as Tovak entered. With him were Captains Greng and Dagon, along with Karach. All four had been gathered around the table.
The only other occupant in the tent was an ancient-looking Dvergr in the dark blue robes of a scholar. He stood next to the warchief and had a beard that reached nearly to his knees. White hair spilled down from the top of his head and over his shoulders. The hair appeared wild, as if it had not been brushed straight in weeks. It gave the scholar a mad look. And yet, his brown eyes were clear, lucid, and piercing as the scholar studied Tovak.
A series of maps had been laid out on the table. Tovak recognized several as the ones he’d found in the enemy’s camp. He stepped closer and saluted the warchief.
“Tovak Stonehammer, reporting as ordered, sir.”
Karach regarded him for a long moment before speaking. “Stand at ease.”
Tovak recovered his salute and stood to parade rest, hands clasped behind his back. He continued staring straight ahead.
“Easier than that, lad.” There was no anger or irritation in his voice this time.
Tovak relaxed his stance, but not completely. He was still concerned about why he’d been summoned.
“I believe you know Captains Greng and Dagon.”
“I do, sir,” Tovak said, his eyes flicking to the captain of the pioneers. He knew he’d never get past his father’s disgrace at Barasoom. People like Dagon would never let him forget. That was okay, for Tovak had accepted who he was, a Pariah.
“This is Grimbok Lorekeeper.” Karach motioned towards the ancient-looking scholar. “He is a historian, who at my request has attached himself to the warband. He is also the reason we are out on the Grimbar Plateau. I consider him my personal advisor.”
“Yes, sir,” Tovak said, not quite sure what else to say.
“Well,” Karach said and glanced over at the other officers briefly. His gaze seemed to linger on Dagon for a heartbeat. “Lad, the warband owes you a debt of gratitude. The maps you found have proven incredibly valuable.”
“Yes, sir,” Tovak said, wondering if there was another boot waiting to drop. “I am glad to hear that, sir.”
Resting his hand upon the table, Karach fell silent for several heartbeats as he regarded Tovak.
“I would like to hear your account of what occurred in the enemy’s camp.” Karach placed a hand on the maps. “Also, tell us, if you would, how you discovered these.” Karach glanced at his officers again. His gaze stopped and lingered once again on Dagon. “In fact, I know we all would like to hear how you came across them.”
“Yes, sir.” Tovak opened his mouth and found he was suddenly hesitant. He wasn’t sure where to begin. He took a breath and decided to start at the assault on their camp. Tovak quickly related the tale of the surprise attack on First Section and his trek up the valley to rescue Gorabor, Dagmar, and Staggen. He left out the part about disobeying Thegdol’s order, but included that Thegdol had, begrudgingly, granted him permission to make the attempt.
He also did not mention the strange pull that had drawn him up there. He described the enemy encampment, the number of enemy warriors that he’d seen, and how the dark priest had sacrificed poor Staggen. Mention of the sacrifice prompted a low exclamation from Struugar. Finally, he reached the point in the story when he had his encounter in the dark priest’s tent. Tovak paused, remembering that moment in vivid detail, as if it had just happened moments ago. He felt a coldness wash over him that made him shiver. He struggled with how much to tell the warchief.
“Well, lad,” Karach said, tone softening a tad and bringing Tovak back to the present. “Don’t stop now. Continue. I want to hear everything.”
“Yes sir, I’m sorry, sir.” Tovak took a deep breath and looked up at the warchief. “Everything, sir?”
“Everything,” Grimbok said, “within reason.”
Tovak gave a nod and decided to relate it all. “You see, sir, when I got a close-up look at the priest, I was filled with a revulsion I’ve never known before. It was more than just the fact that he’d sacrificed Staggen to a dark god … that was awful beyond anything I could have ever imagined. This was deeper, stronger, and I felt wholly compelled to kill him, to end his life or die in the attempt. In that moment, nothing in the world seemed as important as destroying the … thing … that filled my vision. Not my own life, not Gorabor and Dagmar, not the warband. Not even the Great March mattered. There was only a stain of evil that had to be eradicated, removed.”
Tovak sucked in a ragged breath as silence stretched. The warchief ran a hand through his beard as he considered Tovak, then glanced over at the scholar. They shared a look.
“There’s more,” the scholar said, almost knowingly, “isn’t there?”
Tovak gave a nod and hesitated once again. “I saw ….”
“Saw what?” Grimbok asked, leaning forward. His hand played absently with his long white beard. His eyes glittered with intense curiosity. “Tell us.”
Tovak’s gaze went to the Lorekeeper, before returning to the warchief, hoping Karach wouldn’t think he was out-of-his-skull mad. “When I gazed upon that dark priest, I … I saw black flames licking around his body.” Tovak stared down at the rug that covered the grass and ran a hand through his braided beard. “I don’t think it was my imagination.” He looked back up at the warchief and met Karach’s gaze. “For as long as I live, I will always see him there with that wispy, dark fire burning from within.”
There was a long moment of silence. Greng and Struugar shared a long look. Dagon’s gaze was still firmly fixed upon Tovak, and in it was clear disbelief.
“I don’t think it was your imagination, son,” Grimbok said. “What you saw, I believe, was all too real.”
Tovak looked sharply at the scholar. So too did Karach.
“You came across a being of pure evil,” Grimbok said. “In some of the histories I have read, others, who have been blessed by the gods, recount similar experiences, visions. I have heard it described as a gift from the gods.”
“You cannot be serious,” Dagon hissed.
“I am,” Grimbok said.
Tovak did not know what to say. He felt both relieved he’d not been going mad and at the same time frightened. He had confronted true evil and survived.
“Continue with your tale,” Karach said.
“Anyway,” Tovak said, “I leapt upon him, struck him down with my blade, and then left with everything you have in front
of you now, sir. Once they discovered the bodies, getting out of there with Gorabor and Dagmar was a bit of a race. You know the rest, sir.”
Once again, silence filled the tent.
“Flames?” Dagon hissed. “Dark priests? Really? I find all of this difficult to digest.” He waved a hand in Tovak’s direction. “It is nothing more than the fanciful imagination of a desperate youth, a Pariah, looking to prove himself. He got lucky is all.”
Tovak stiffened in anger.
“I don’t have any doubts,” Greng said, speaking up and looking over at Dagon, “especially after what I witnessed. The lad faced certain death, courted it even, to buy his comrades time to escape. I am inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. If he says the priest was burning in a black fire, well then, that is what he saw.”
“Indeed,” Karach said and was silent for a long moment. “Do you feel lucky, Tovak?”
“Lucky?” Tovak asked. “No, sir. My life has been anything but.”
“Do you know what I think, Tovak?” Karach asked.
“No, sir,” Tovak said.
“In my one hundred and sixty-two years, I’ve learned to trust my gut. I think you are lucky. Yes, lucky. Fortune favors you. That is something in war you cannot put a price on.”
Tovak was unsure how to respond, so he said nothing.
“As I said earlier,” Karach said, “what you found has proven invaluable to the warband’s mission.”
“Our mission, sir,” Tovak said and then decided to ask the question that no one seemed to know the answer to. “What exactly is our mission, sir? Why are we out on the Grimbar Plateau?”
Dagon’s face hardened and Tovak wondered if he’d overstepped. However, Karach did not seem offended in the slightest.
“Why not?” Karach said. “I think you have earned the truth and everyone in the warband will know soon enough. Until that time, as it becomes common knowledge, you must give me your word that you will not relate anything you hear in this tent … not to your friends, comrades, or anyone else. You will wait for your officers to convey our objectives and mission before speaking on it. Do you understand?”
“The word of a Pariah?” Dagon scoffed. “How can you accept such a thing?”
Karach held up his hand and shot an unhappy look at Dagon. “His word will be sufficient for me. And it should be sufficient for you as well.”
Clearly unhappy, Dagon wordlessly nodded his assent.
The warchief turned back to Tovak. “Do I have your word, Tovak Stonehammer?”
“Yes, sir,” Tovak said. “You do. I swear by my ancestors, I will reveal none of what I learn here tonight.”
“Very well, then,” Karach said and turned back to the table with the maps. He considered them for a moment, then returned his attention to Tovak. “You arrived as we were discussing an upcoming operation. So good timing.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thanks to your efforts,” Karach continued, “the warband now has a proper objective. At least we know where to look for what we seek.” He took a deep breath. Tovak could hear the rain pattering gently against the canvas roof of the tent. “As you already know, we’ve encountered gnomes, orcs, and goblins. It seems gnome territory is to our immediate east in the highlands. While in pursuit of enemy raiders, Captain Struugar discovered that fact the hard way.”
“There are also organized companies of orcs and goblins about,” Karach said. “That tells us they are from the Horde and not isolated tribes and that the enemy has or is attempting to establish a presence in the area. That is something we had not counted on. The maps you found confirmed this suspicion. We expected the enemy far to the south and west. Are you following me so far?”
“Yes, sir,” Tovak said.
Karach turned back to the map, motioned Tovak closer, and pointed to a position northeast of the Grimbar Plateau. “This valley here, is the Keelbooth Valley. What we seek”—Karach looked over at the scholar—“Grimbok and I are firmly convinced is located there.”
“You’re looking for Grata’Dagoth, aren’t you?” Tovak asked, before his mind could stop him. He immediately regretted it. He wasn’t supposed to know that name. Karach’s eyes snapped to Tovak, a stern expression hardening his face.
“What made you guess that Grata’Dagoth was our ultimate destination?” Struugar said, eying Tovak, almost suspiciously.
“I’ve heard rumors of it since I joined the warband, sir.”
“Well,” Karach said, blowing out a breath, “it is what it is, I guess. It’s nearly impossible keeping anything secret in the army.” He turned his attention back to Tovak. “If the maps are correct, and we suspect they are, based on other information in our possession, the ancient fortress of Grata’Dagoth lies somewhere within that valley. We also believe the Horde is hunting for it as well, but they do not know its exact location.”
“Why do they want to find it too?” Tovak asked.
“That is a good question,” Grimbok said, “one we do not yet have an answer to.”
“Regardless of their motivations,” Karach said, “based upon these maps, as well as the other information in our possession, the warband will be moving with the intention of entering the Keelbooth Valley.”
“Assuming they haven’t already found Grata’Dagoth yet,” Grimbok said.
Karach spared the scholar a hard look. “If they had, their entire army would be in the valley, or at least closer to it. This map here seems to indicate their position to the east, in the mountains, and their garrisons strung throughout the region. It is possible they too have been having gnome problems. Whatever the reason, they seem to be spread thin, which is advantageous to us, at least for the moment.”
“Do you know who built it, sir?” Tovak asked, thinking about what Benthok had told him, that an ancient Dvergr nation that had once called the area they were moving through home.
“Grimbok?” Karach passed the question along to the old scholar.
The scholar cleared his throat.
“The short answer to your questions is, yes,” he said in a raspy voice. “When our people first came to this world, we found ruins indicating another Dvergr nation had preceded us by hundreds of years, maybe even longer. We’ve not yet found out if they remain somewhere on this world, or where they went off to. I have spent my entire life studying them. It’s been fascinating work. They called themselves the Leghone. Beyond that, we don’t really know much about them as a people.”
“Get to the important part,” Greng said.
Grimbok shot Greng a long-suffering look. “Based upon the information I have discovered through my studies and research, we think that somewhere in the Keelbooth Valley is the entrance to an ancient road, the Ara’Kasan, which leads through the mountains and to the plains beyond. The hidden fortress of Grata’Dagoth guards the road.”
“It is our hope this road is still passable,” Karach said.
“The Great March,” Tovak breathed in, understanding dawning, his eyes going to Karach. He recalled his geography lessons in school. “If we can find it, you want to use this road for the Great March … to bring our people onto the plateau and to this road.”
“It was and is the Thane’s hope that we can,” Karach said. “With the unexpected fall of the human kingdom of Syrulia to the Horde, our people making the Great March will be at risk for raids and attacks, as we’d need to pass close to the borders of Syrulia.” Karach pointed at a larger map that lay on the table. It detailed much of the continent. “Our people would need to work their way around south of the mountains. With so many civilians, it would be fraught with peril. The warbands would have difficulty protecting them all. However, if we can find Grata’Dagoth and this ancient road, the Great March can move north and away from Syrulia, through the Grimbar Plateau, to Keelbooth Valley, and then ultimately through the mountains on the road to safety.”
Tovak gave a nod, thinking on the warband’s mission. “What’s to stop the Horde from following us?”
“The
road is not over the mountains,” Grimbok said, “but under it. We would bring it down after we use it. The work would be thorough and there would be no following.”
“The Horde would be forced to go around the mountains,” Tovak said, “a journey of more than a thousand miles, since there is no easy pass or way over them. If successful, it would buy our people time and a chance to put some distance between us and the Horde.”
“Precisely,” Karach said. “That is why we are out so far from the rest of the army.”
“The Horde is looking for the fortress to deny us use of it,” Tovak said. “Is that why they are out here?”
“We don’t think so,” Karach said and pointed down at the map. “I believe the Horde has a different agenda. They did not expect to find us here. That has become all too clear. Captain Dagon’s scouts took prisoners that confirmed that understanding.”
“They are certainly aware of us now,” Struugar said.
“Yes, they are,” Karach said, regarding Struugar. “There is no doubt in my mind their knowledge of our presence will complicate things. But there is no helping that now. Besides, it is rather hard to hide a warband marching through the middle of the Grimbar, especially at night. You’d have to be blind not to see our fires from the hills and mountain slopes.”
Karach turned back to the map and rubbed his jaw for several heartbeats before looking back up at the three officers.
“As I see it, the pass that leads into Keelbooth and the defensive wall that we were discussing earlier are the immediate problem for us,” the warchief said, addressing the officers, as if he’d suddenly forgotten all about Tovak. “It is the only real access into the valley from the plateau, at least for a large force.”
“The wall complicated matters,” Struugar said. “It will have to be overcome and that will be bloody work.”
Forging Destiny Page 9
