He was warning Khleeg’s force that the meeting was an ambush.
From somewhere among Khemu’s warriors a pair of arrows streaked out. With terrible efficiency the unseen archers dealt two perfect strikes to the neck of the axe-brandishing warrior.
The ogre stumbled a few steps and fell on his face, already dead.
Rauth shouted back at whoever had fired. Khleeg, meanwhile, seized his own trumpeter by the arm. “Battle!”
The trumpeter raised the curled goat horn-just as one of Khleeg’s other officers thrust a dagger in the trumpeter’s throat.
At the same time, a second officer attempted to similarly attack Khleeg. The only thing that saved Golgren’s second in command was the sudden jerking of his horse. The assassin’s blade bounced off Golgren’s breastplate and left a long, wet scar across his forearm.
Before the traitorous officer could try again, Khleeg used a heavy foot to shove his assailant off his mount. The Blodian drew his sword and ran the trumpeter’s killer through.
As the other ogre died, Khleeg let go of the reins and snagged the horn from the slumping trumpeter. He himself blew the warning notes-
But with mounting horror, he saw a warning was no longer needed. A goodly number of his soldiers had already turned on their own comrades. Still, many others were loyal and fought back.
Khleeg tried to rally those who stood with him. He blew the horn again before tossing it aside to defend himself against a pair of warriors converging upon him on foot. One he knew well, and that fact alone made Khleeg furious. He maneuvered his massive steed in front of the pair, reached down, and cut a river across the familiar warrior’s throat. The other he dueled with for several minutes, and disarmed before doing the same as he had done to his comrade. The new warriors were well trained, but Khleeg was experienced and had learned personally under his Grand Khan, who knew not only Uruv Suurt tricks, but those of the Solamnians and the Nerakans too.
The battle was fast becoming utter chaos. No one on his side knew whom to trust; more than once Khleeg saw a warrior he was certain was loyal cut down by a sudden turncoat.
A warrior from his own hand slammed his axe into the neck of Khleeg’s horse. With a shriek, the animal toppled. Khleeg was unable to leap free before the dying horse hit the ground.
The bulky corpse of the animal heavily pinned one leg. The attacker, his axe dripping, closed upon Golgren’s other.
Khleeg fumbled for his dagger. As the other ogre loomed over him, the officer thrust up and under his enemy’s breastplate.
His strike was perfect. The traitorous ogre stumbled back, unfortunately wrenching the dagger from Khleeg’s grip. The attacker dropped his axe as he sought to yank the blade free.
The head of the weapon lay within Khleeg’s reach. With his adversary distracted by his terrible wound, the Blodian stretched and pulled the axe near, before grabbing its handle.
The other ogre finally drew out Khleeg’s dagger. Blood gushed from the wound. A maddened expression filled his grotesque visage.
Khleeg chopped at his foe’s nearest leg. The blade struck just above the ogre’s ankle and although it did not cut deep, it was enough to send the warrior stumbling to one knee.
And that brought the enemy close enough to enable Khleeg to bury the axe in the back of his neck. The blow was not powerful enough to behead the other ogre, but it came close. The body slumped next to Khleeg, who was busy struggling to free himself.
Just as he managed to drag his leg out from under the dead horse, a pair of warriors seized him by the arms. Khleeg started to fight back, until he realized the arms were coming to his aid.
Golgren’s second in command saw proudly that several other loyal warriors had banded together around him and had begun to reestablish a cohesive fighting force. Such actions would have been impossible for ogres before the half-breed had instituted his methods and training. Instead, the individuals would have stood their ground as single fighters and died valiantly but foolishly.
There were more of his warriors left than Khleeg could have hoped. One who had helped him rise thrust the axe back in his hand. With a confident growl, Khleeg waved the others into a more solid line. Those foes were about to discover that those truly loyal to the Grand Khan were more than a match for traitors-
Suddenly Khleeg had a premonition that the worse was not over. He knew that his brave little band was doomed, yet not once did he think of fleeing. They would have been slain with their backs to fate, a cowardly way for any ogre to perish.
But there was one last service Khleeg could perform. He fumbled for the crystal given to him by his lord. Golgren had to be warned.
Khleeg held the stone up. Realizing he was holding the blasted thing in front of the wrong eye, he switched to the other and concentrated on the Grand Khan with all his will.
His brave warriors roared as they met their oncoming fate.
The crystal flashed-
And suddenly the world around Khleeg shifted. The battle scene vanished, replaced by rocky terrain that might have been days away or just a few yards from where he had stood.
Vertigo struck the ogre. His legs folded under him.
Khleeg blacked out.
Golgren sensed the crystal calling to him as he rode just a few paces behind Barech and the scouts guiding them into the mountains. Aware that if one of the other two were trying to contact him it suggested a matter of great importance, the Grand Khan immediately located Tyranos’s creation and put it to his eye.
But the crystal revealed nothing but muddiness.
Thinking of Garantha, Golgren concentrated on Wargroch. A tense moment passed before the younger officer replied.
“Grand Khan?”
“Garantha. All is well there?”
The question seemed to confuse Wargroch momentarily, but he confidently replied, “Yes, Grand Khan! All is well!”
Golgren dismissed Wargroch from the crystal without further discussion or explanation. He concentrated on Khleeg.
Regrettably, even after more than a minute, his second in command did not respond.
“What is it, my lord?” asked Idaria.
The Grand Khan thrust the crystal back into his pouch. “Nothing.”
But his thoughts lingered on Khleeg. In his mind Golgren ran over the officer’s intended route and found no cause for concern. The first danger should not have come until the combined hands reached the Nerakans, days away. Could the black knights have slipped so far into Golthuu as to have attacked Khleeg already? Golgren considered that highly unlikely if not impossible. Yet, there had been several incidents of late that more than verged on “impossible.”
Even so, there was nothing he could do but wait and see. As with all military hands, Khleeg’s would have had messenger birds at their disposal. It was possible that some note was winging its way to Garantha. Wargroch could be relied upon to alert his master of any such messages.
A mournful howl tore his attention back to the mountains. The ogre warriors tensed before they all realized the howl was nothing more than the wind coursing among the sharp, jagged peaks.
For the ogre people, the mountains had no official name, although, according to the commander, the locals called them Isan du ihageed-araki, the Teeth of the Burrower. They did indeed resemble teeth to Golgren, although more like those of a meredrake or dragon. At a glance, the peaks looked devoid of life, including the hardy shrubs found in southern Golthuu or even southwest of the capital. The oddly narrow mountaintops were also heavily scored, as if countless creatures over the ages had sharpened their claws on the rocky sides.
Golgren’s eyes continually surveyed his surroundings. The mysterious message of the wild fires-and its lack of clear meaning-was still fresh in his wary thoughts.