The Soul Sphere: Book 02 - The Final Shard (12 page)

“It not know that,” Lucien said. “If it find us, Dark One act—in swift and brutal way.”

“Then we camp here tonight, under trees,” said Krast, “and keep eyes on sky as well as ground in morning.”

The next day they continued to work their way southeast, and the land continued to become hillier as they did so, the area known as the Great Plain now well east of their position. Their progress was slowed somewhat by the terrain, but they were now better sheltered, at least from other land-based eyes. There was no sign of the Mist, but that brought little comfort, and they kept a wary watch on the sky.

Mid-afternoon brought the sound of approaching hooves. Krast bade them dismount in a shallow valley, and he went ahead a bit on foot, to the crest of the next hill, to see what he might. After a moment of study, he called for the others to come up and bring the horses.

“Scouts from your pack,” Krast said to Lucien, pointing to the west. A small group clad in black and red had dismounted and was filling their water sacks in a small stream. “We ride to them, and signal wish to parlay.”

“I ride in front,” said Lucien, “in case bowman anxious. Hopefully they see uniform and not shoot.”

They rode forward at a slow, steady pace, doing their best to remain visible, keeping their weapons stowed and an open right hand raised. Once they were spotted the Kabrindan scouts sprang to their weapons and mounts, but they came forward to meet them rather than taking up battle positions.

Lucien recognized none of them, but greeted them in the goblin tongue, and somewhere in the harsh-sounding syllables they heard an accent that convinced them he was one of their own. The scouts kept their weapons out, but their positions indicated they had begun to relax a bit.

Lucien said his name and introduced his companions, switching to the common tongue. One of the scouts moved his horse forward and replied in kind.

“I Ladok. Why you travel with such as these, Lucien?”

“Story is long. I will share but we in hurry. Durst sent me on mission beyond our lands, and I return with news of Solek, alliances with those who fight him, and request for goblin council from Grosh of Salesh.”

“Ride with us, servant of Kabrinda. Others our guests for now. Tell your tale, and if we deem it wise, we take you to camp.”

“Is it near?”

Ladok’s eyes shifted for an instant toward Krast, then back to Lucien. “Close enough. We camp in open tonight. Come, we ride in haste until we stop. You tell story at evening meal.” With that, he started away to the east. Lucien and his companions followed.

*          *          *

Lucien told the story of his mission that evening, while his fellow pack members sat around him listening intently. Krast absorbed the story as well, hearing much more than he had been told before he became a guide for Lucien and Alexis. When Lucien first mentioned the Mists there were nods of recognition, but none had been seen by any of the scouts for months. “Be wary,” Lucien warned. “We saw one going south yesterday.”

Once the story was done Ladok exchanged a few quiet words with a small group of scouts, and then turned to the three travelers. “We reach our camp tomorrow. Durst will want to hear what you tell us. Krast may enter our camp—under your protection and under bond of blood pact with Grosh.”

Krast inclined his head in thanks.

“Tomorrow you eat better and know warmth of fire and shelter of tent. Tonight we do without. No choice if Mist about.”

“It is as we have done,” Lucien said in agreement.

*          *          *

The next day they moved back onto the Great Plain, and the miles passed swiftly. Before noon they could see a large camp on the horizon, and as they approached Lucien felt a warm sensation of relief pass through him at the sight of the black and red banners of Kabrinda softly billowing in the gentle breeze. As they arrived they were hailed in friendly terms, and allowed to enter after a quick exchange between Ladok and the camp guards. Curious eyes followed them, and while Krast drew a nasty look or two, Alexis felt it was as warm a welcome as could be hoped for.

Word of Lucien’s return quickly spread, and while Ladok went ahead to announce the trio to Durst, a group of goblins soon gathered to greet their old comrade with shouts and much pounding on the back. Alexis and Krast stood apart from the group, feeling a bit out of place and wanting to let Lucien enjoy his welcome. As Alexis watched with a faint smile, a female goblin moved toward Lucien, and the crowd parted to let her through. As she reached Lucien, they gripped one another on the arms, each placing both hands on the others’ biceps, an action Alexis took to be the goblin version of a handshake or a hug, and then the two spoke quietly for a moment. They went through this gripping action again, and as quickly as she had appeared the female departed and was soon lost amid the activity of the camp.

Ladok returned and summoned them to Durst’s tent. As they walked, Alexis inquired as to the identity of the female goblin.

“She is Natelle. She is my mate.”

“ ‘Mate’!” Alexis exclaimed. “You never mentioned…”

“No need. Not relevant to task at hand.”

“Perhaps not, but in all those months together… Did you miss her?”

“I did, as I longed for pack and land. I am sworn first to duty assigned. No need to dwell on things left behind.”

Durst’s tent was a bit larger than the others near it, and a banner of black and red adorned each side of the entrance. Six guards were plainly visible, two at the tent opening and one at each corner. The guards at the opening barred their way with crossed warblades.

“Ladok and Lucien may pass with weapons. Others disarm.”

Krast and Alexis handed over their weapons without protest, and were subjected to a further search before being admitted. One of the guards followed them into the tent, making sure the two non-members of the pack were aware of his presence—and that of his sharpened blade.

Durst was surrounded by a half-dozen goblins, but even the strangers could pick him out immediately. He towered over the others, and those near him spoke to and looked at him reverentially. His dress was plain, and a bandage around his head was brown with dried blood. The wound had done little to dim his spirits, and he greeted Lucien warmly. He rushed all but the newcomers out, including the guard, who was reluctant to go, even going so far as to motion toward Krast. “It will be fine,” Durst reassured him in the goblin language, his booming voice filling the tent.

“My apologies,” he said directly to Krast. “There is little love or trust between our packs right now.”

“No offense taken, Chief of the Kabrinda. I am Krast, currently a guide to those here gathered, at the request of Grosh.”

“Grosh I know, perhaps too well. This little scratch came from one of your warriors, as a matter of fact.”

“I suppose you gave as well as got,” Krast said, a faint smile curling his lip.

“More so,” Durst replied. “But enough of this. There is another guest here.”

“Alexis of Lorgras,” Lucien said by way of introduction. “A sister-in-arms, and an ally against Solek.”

Durst switched to the common speech to address her.  “You most welcome here, Alexis.”

“I am honored,” she replied, in barely passable goblin.

Durst laughed, a roar from deep in his belly. “My common need work, but not as much as your goblin. Honored you try. I would hear all your stories, but first Lucien alone. Kaldrow!”

The guard reappeared instantly, his expression wild with fear and blood-lust. Seeing his chief in no danger, he seemed abashed.

“See our guests fed and given shelter. I call for them soon.”

It was nearly two hours later when Alexis was summoned. She found Durst and Lucien seated on the ground in the chief’s tent, and was bid to join them. Her eyes wandered toward the tent opening.

“Just us three for a time,” Durst said. “Krast safe here, but he still has eyes, ears, and mind of enemy. You, lady, much welcomed. I apologize I not give you honor due as High Queen of Lorgras.”

“None is due but what is earned.”

“Well said. Other than words, little I can give but food and shelter. War camps have few comforts, and you have no such luxuries in your battles with Dark One’s servants, I know. I and all Arkania owe you much already.”

“And I you. If you had not had the foresight to send Lucien into the land of men… I fear we may not have fared so well without his warblade.”

“Great was task he took on, and far more than I ask. But he brings you here, and speaks of others ready to stand with us against common foe. Wish I had done half so much to have goblins ready to fight. Maybe not all lost yet. Council brings hope for peace here, and war on Solek. Lucien say Lorgras prepares in your absence.”

“They do. We will be ready.”

“And friends try to raise armies in Delving and Corindor. But what of Westerland?”

“I would go there next, to ask for warriors and arms, or at least passage for any goblin army that might march.”

“You seem doubtful.”

“Duke Fallo is content to hide behind his walls. He was delivered once.”

“By your hand, I hear.”

“Maybe more by good fortune. But he does not see the danger, and will not until the enemy scales the walls of Western City and dashes him to the ground. I do not put too much hope in his willingness to help.”

“Will he let goblins pass?”

“Old wounds can be deep. He does not trust goblins. I would guess the border forts are manned. But we will try. A march around to the north, through Lorgras, will take time. And what of your people? Will they unite? If not, will some packs march to war while others stay?”

“Grosh much like Duke Fallo in Western City. He looks to gain and safety of own pack before good of all. If he join us, it be for some other purpose. Question is will he reveal reason in council or keep secret? I will fight Solek. Kabrinda will fight Solek. I will ask others to do same. But until we know intentions of each pack, you must be here as messenger from Queen. Lucien bound to reveal who you are to me, but we say nothing to anyone else until time is right.”

Once he had Alexis’ agreement, Durst asked that Krast be brought to them. When the Salesh scout entered, he remained standing at attention. Durst begged Alexis’ leave to speak to Krast in native goblin, which she readily gave, understanding Lucien could give her any particulars later if necessary.

“What were Grosh’s orders to you?” Durst asked Krast.

“To bring Lucien and Alexis to your camp, and then to guide you to council if you accept the invitation, or bring news of your denial back to Grosh.”

“So the location of the council is to be kept a secret from us?”

“That was Grosh’s wish. Your safety is assured by his blood pact with Lucien. I—”

“I am asked to place my trust, but it is not given to me in kind.”

“You have not given a blood oath.”

“And if I make one with you, will you reveal the location of the council?”

Krast shifted uneasily. “I am bound by my orders.”

Durst’s harsh stare lingered for a moment, then his visage softened. “You are loyal to your chief, a noble trait. When will we need to depart?”

“At sunrise, six days from now.”

“Then I must send my own messengers now to bring the other pack leaders here before then. Grosh will see that Ast is there? Over him I have no influence.”

“He will see to it,” Krast confirmed.

“Then I will invite Grek and Blage. Just as Alexis, you will be our guest until we depart. Lucien, you have earned a rest even if it is a short one. No duty for you until we go to council.”