The Trials of Caste (34 page)

Manebrow stood on the trainer’s stand with his
hands clasped behind his back.  In his mind he’d been keeping track of the
tally of kills.  Like every year since he’d first started training yearlings,
there were surprises.  He’d not expected Keryak to be out so soon, nor had he
expected Jerrig to last this long.  And with the energy and physical strength
present in this group, perhaps the most surprising thing was that no one had
been reported as injured seriously enough to not continue in the trials.

In his heart Manebrow pondered on the moment. 
Soon the winner of the competition would be chosen, and thus one of these
kobolds would be given the rank of adventurer, which was much like an
apprentice rank in the leader caste of the gen.  Soon one of these yearlings
would be put in a status unattainably above his own station in life.  He could
only imagine the challenges that kobold would face.

He did not question whether that kobold, whoever
he was, would be up to the challenge.  He had broken pride and built
discipline.  He had broken self-delusion and built self-knowledge.  They had
started the year as a group of incompetent individuals unable to take care of
themselves individually much less be of use to anyone else, and had finished as
a team of competent warriors.  For several years Manebrow had forged the
warriors of this gen with the hammer of his iron discipline.  Not in all that
time had he seen a group so ready for the trials.  However, not in all that
time had he heard of a quest where so much was unknown.

Whether the yearling who attained leader caste
this day was ready or not, Manebrow would be there to ensure that the mission
succeeded and that as many warriors as he could take care of would make it home
safely at the end.  To this end he’d pledged his life when taking the position
of elite warrior.  To this pledge he would hold true.  Manebrow felt the
strength of his vow and knew that, as long as he lived, his commitment would
not waver.

T
he
end of the competition was always a hectic thing.  The psychology of it was
simple; those without keys would hear the fighting at the tower and begin to
feel uncomfortable.  At which point they would usually stop looking and instead
linger around the tower, waiting to ambush whoever might have the last key
before he could open the chest.  On the other hand, those with at least one key
felt safe to venture out and ensure that all other keys had already been
obtained from all the other obstacles, because no one could win without their
key.  Of course, those with more than one key usually put the rest in the great
locks on the chest at the top of Tower of the Chalice, both to hear the
applause of the crowd, and because the rules wouldn’t allow them to hide the
keys anywhere else.

It had usually been the case in the past that one
or more obstacles had been overlooked in the chaos that was the scouting trial,
until at the very end the remaining kobolds somehow figured out that one or
more of the keys was not in play.

This time was no different in that respect. 
Jerrig and Trallik, both keyless, were trading arrows across the clearing of
the Tower of the Chalice while both Gorgon and Durik were out looking for
keys.  Neither Jerrig nor Trallik were willing to give up the cover of their
passageways to get close to one another, so for several minutes they exchanged
arrows, interspersed with brief episodes where one of them would run out, grab
the arrows the other had fired, then run back behind cover.  With the distance
and both of them being aware of the other, no hits were scored.

Gorgon quickly accomplished the objective he set
out to achieve.  Arriving at the Ruined Bridge Obstacle, he saw the boards and
materials in the ditch and, looking across the ditch to the empty pedestal on
the other side, surmised that this obstacle’s key must already be in play. 
After spending a short time more looking around to ensure that the key hadn’t
accidentally been dropped, Gorgon took off jogging toward the Smoke Obstacle.

As Durik approached the door to the large boar
hide hut that sat squarely in the middle of the Smoke Obstacle clearing, he noticed
the Honor Guard judge wearing a cloth over his snout while pumping a bellows
into a smelter full of burning cryweed whose chimney was a hide tube that
connected to the tent.  Tar closed most of the holes and seems in the tent, but
the remaining holes and the flaps in the front of the tent still seeped enough
of the acrid smoke out that it was necessary to keep burning the stuff.  Durik
walked up to the flap door of the obstacle and, standing aside, opened it as
far as he could, fastening it at the bottom to one of the stakes near the tent
corner.  Large amounts of the acrid cryweed smoke billowed out from the dark
interior of the tent as Durik decided what to do next.

Perhaps it was because of the work that had gone
into improving the chimney in the top of this cavern that they used this
obstacle almost every year.  Perhaps it was because of cryweed smoke’s effect
on creatures.  Whatever it was, Durik wasn’t happy to be the one to have to go
into the tent and get the key.  Going around to the side of the tent away from
the view of even the highest seats in the stands Durik stripped completely,
even leaving his loin cloth on the ground so that he’d have no lingering
cryweed smoke on him anywhere.  He then carefully hid his equipment as best he
could under the netting that covered the partitions that formed the walls of
the obstacle’s clearing.

After lifting the edge of the tent and waiting
several moments to let as much smoke billow out as he could, Durik held his
breath and crawled under the tent wall.  Despite his efforts to clear the
smoke, Durik’s eyes began to water almost immediately, and very soon thereafter
his nose began to run and he slowly began to feel his ability to breathe being
hampered.  On the sandy floor of the tent lay several small chests with simple
locks of various sizes.  Hanging from the tent ceiling by long strings were a
large number of keys of all different sizes.  Going as quickly as he could from
chest to chest on his stomach, Durik shook each of them to see if they
contained anything.  After several moments, Durik found a chest that rattled as
if it contained something metallic.  Being quite disoriented and not being able
to hold his breath any longer, Durik grabbed the chest, stood up and ran out
the door to the tent.

Durik stopped just outside the tent door and,
dropping the chest to the ground, bent over and coughed out massive amounts of
phlegm and mucus, wiping his eyes to clear away the streaming tears.  After a
few moments he caught his breath and stood up.  It was then that he noticed
Gorgon standing there in front of him, leaning on a javelin.

*Cough* “You…” *Cough* “been here long?” Durik
asked once he got over the surprise of being caught unarmed and naked and on
the wrong side of the tent.

“A few moments,” Gorgon answered.  “I was in no
hurry to follow you in there.”

*Cough* “Yeah.  So, what do we do now?  Are you
going to take me as I am?”  Durik asked, looking rather uncomfortable.

Gorgon thought for a moment.  If ever a victory
were to be handed him on a silver platter this, perhaps, was it.  After a
moment, however, he shook his head and answered.  “It wouldn’t be right,
Durik.  I’m more honorable than that.  How about you go get your gear while I
break open this chest.  I’ll take the key, but I’ll not take a kill from an
unarmed opponent, even if you did accidentally beat me in the melee trial.”

Durik grinned a nervous grin.  Not being in the
mood to argue at the moment, he turned and ran around behind the tent.  Lifting
the netting, Durik grabbed his gear and headed off immediately into a side
passage where he could escape the view of the crowd and the fully armed and
ready Gorgon.

As he reached the safety of the side passage, he
suddenly realized that he had been fully naked in view of the entire gen and,
he instantly realized, Kiria also!  The stunning embarrassment of it all came
slamming down on him all at once and it was more than he could bear.

It was several moments before Durik, trying hard
to shake it off, was able to get up and get his mind back into the fight.

It had been a simple matter to beat the chest
against the stone smelter until it shattered in his hands, then taking the
large key with a piece of dark gray cloth tied to it from the remnants of the
chest Gorgon headed off at a jog toward the Tower of the Chalice clearing.  He
was in no hurry.  In his mind, it was in his best interest to wait.  He had two
keys, and he knew that there was one other key out there somewhere.  He didn’t
remember seeing Durik with it, so he figured that one of the others probably
had it in his possession.

Gorgon assumed that the others would be at the
tower by now and if not, then at least he could catch whoever was there and
possibly score a couple more kills before the last key arrived.  Perhaps he
could knock another of his peers out of the contest and clear the area of
distractions.  By his figuring, only he, Durik, Jerrig, and Trallik were left
in the contest.  He’d looked up at the clay pots that marked how many kills
each had against them, but not all of the flags were well displayed.  But with
the fast pace of this trial so far, he figured that keys would win this contest
before kills ever did anyway.

As he approached the entrance to the clearing of
the Tower of the Chalice, Gorgon slowed to a walk then crept forward as he
tried his best to stay in the shadows of the passageway.  Ahead of him the
light from the fire pots reflected brightly in the clearing, leaving the tower
standing stark brown against the whited calcium carbonate deposits that lined
the ceiling of the cavern.  It was approaching mid-day in the world above, and
the pillar of light from the hole in the top of the massive cavern streamed
down through the dusty air, splashing light over the far end of the little clearing
and the passageways beyond.  From his position a few paces from an entrance,
Gorgon saw no immediate activity.  This naturally made him suspicious.

He moved forward a couple more paces until he
could see the other entrances to the clearing.  Still nothing to be seen.  This
worried him.  He was not concerned about facing any of the others face to face,
or even from a distance.  It was the unseen strike that he was much more
concerned about.  Waiting several moments, Gorgon eventually decided he had to
take action.

Gorgon brought his shield up in front of his chest
and made a run for the tower, scanning all the entrances as he went.  It took
quite a few strides, but by the time he arrived at the base, nothing had
moved.  Relieved, but still cautious, Gorgon climbed to the top of the tower.  Inspecting
the chest, he found that the same three keys were missing.

Gorgon took the Orc Guard Complex key from his
belt and, holding it up for the crowd to see, placed it in its lock and turned
it.  The crowd cheered and applauded.  Turning again toward the stairs, he
patted the remaining key on his belt and waved again to the crowd.

Trallik found the antics of kobolds like Gorgon
tiresome.  He found him to be vain and overly concerned about his image.  If
there was one thing that would bring him down, other than his sense of honor,
it would be the attention he paid to how he looked to others.  In fact, Trallik
would help him learn that lesson right now.

As he watched him wave to the crowd from the
shadows of a passageway Trallik brought his bow up and drew back the arrow he
had nocked.  Watching as Gorgon waved to the crowd then turned to walk down the
stairs, Trallik led Gorgon with his aim point by a notch or two, then released
suddenly.  The arrow flew quickly toward Gorgon’s back, eliciting a couple of
screams from the crowd as it flew.

Hearing a scream from the crowd behind him, Gorgon
spun quickly and dropped to a knee, bringing his shield quickly up in front of
his torso and head.  Almost instantly an arrow struck the wood of his shield
and clattered off down the staircase toward the lower levels of the tower.