The Grand Khan had let Khleeg know Atolgus had a future. That some day, once better seasoned, Atolgus would first lead a hand before joining the august circle of which the Blodian was prime disciple.
But Atolgus had proven himself as dishonorable as a hunting ji-baraki. That, or he was a Jaro Gyun, a wearer of masks, a duplicitous creature pretending to be what he had never been.
Pushing out of sight, Khleeg sought the crystal. He had tried to contact his lord before, but for some reason the crystal was dead. Khleeg hoped that it would work again.
But although he was certain that he followed the proper instructions, still the crystal did not show him his lord. Khleeg growled and nearly threw away the useless piece, but thought of the other who carried a crystal. Perhaps …
Holding it to his left eye, he muttered, “Wargroch.”
There was a definite warmth to the stone. Encouraged, Khleeg repeated the name while picturing the younger officer.
A moment later, a startled Wargroch peered back at him. “Khleeg? Is that you?”
“Hear me!” The Blodian told all that had happened, including all he had heard about Atolgus. Wargroch made disconcerted noises, but did not interrupt the second in command’s stream of explanation.
When Khleeg had finished, the other officer finally responded with a snarl of his own. He muttered something in Ogre that Khleeg could not quite make out. He rumbled in Common, “I myself will march down to southern Golthuu to find Atolgus! His head will hang from a pike at Garantha’s gates!”
“No! Garantha must be protected from Rauth!” Khleeg had considered what should be done. He always sought to emulate his lord. “Warn … Warn hands near Sadurak!” Sadurak was deep in old Blode, near to where the rebel leader was located. The warriors there were tried and true, one hand under a trusted commander. “Warn Jod! Jod will fight Atolgus! Jod is loyal!”
Wargroch mulled that over and replied, “Jod is loyal, yes.”
“Beware Rauth! He will march to Garantha-”
Wargroch suddenly vanished. Khleeg still felt some vague link to the other officer, but for some reason, it was impossible to see or speak with Wargroch any longer.
A frustrated Khleeg again started to toss the crystal, but thought better of it and thrust it back into his pouch. He shoved himself away from the vicinity of Rauth’s triumph, trying to decide what he should do next.
A sudden sound set every one of his nerves on alert. Khleeg drew his weapon as another ogre crept into sight. The disheveled warrior took one look at Khleeg and fell to one knee.
The Blodian recognized the other ogre, although not by name. Khleeg was fairly certain that the warrior was loyal.
“Rise,” he ordered. “Others?”
In response, the warrior gestured behind him. Two more ogres appeared. One was wounded in the arm and carried no weapon. The other boasted a sword broken at the midpoint. If they were part of a trick to trap Golgren’s second in command, they were a good one, for Khleeg found their pathetic state quite credible.
He waited to see if any more survivors would materialize, but that was apparently the entire sorry lot. Khleeg grimaced and signaled for all three to follow him. He had no idea exactly what he planned to do. The choices seemed either to head back to Garantha, or seek out Golgren.
Indeed, the ogre officer suddenly realized there was only one choice.
Gritting his yellowed teeth, and with his army of three trailing behind him, Khleeg picked up his pace.
His mind racing, Wargroch put away the crystal. Khleeg’s call to him had thrown the younger officer off balance. Events were not happening as he had expected they would when he was left in command.
He summoned a subordinate. “Send word to all hand commanders in Garantha!” Wargroch decreed, trying to sound every inch as imposing and masterful as the Grand Khan in both his language and manner. “I will speak with them! Move!”
Within the hour, four hulking commanders entered the palace. To emphasize his rank, Wargroch had them meet with him in the throne chamber. Unlike Golgren, however, Wargroch filled the seat in every way. He was nearly two feet taller than the Grand Khan and, like Khleeg, was a Blodian ogre stouter in his build.
To his right, a chained meredrake dozed. The huge beast was a pet of Golgren’s, who often fed him scraps of raw amalok when granting an audience. Wargroch let the giant green and brown reptile sleep. With the exception of its master, the meredrake considered anyone fooling with it as potential food.
Contrasting with when Golgren sat in Garantha, the walls were not lined with impressive, fierce-looking guards fanatically loyal to the Grand Khan. Only a pair of warriors utterly trusted by Wargroch stood near the metal doors; the only other eyewitnesses in the room were the many ghostly reliefs of the long-dead High Ogres. Blithely ignorant of current events, the latter continued their eternal festivals, hunts, and battles.
Like all hand commanders, the four had been chosen for their zealous loyalty to Golgren. Loyalty among ogres was generally of a mercurial nature, however. Grand Khans had risen and fallen in the space of months, even weeks or days, with a simple disaster or heavy loss in battle turning many against them.
There were some who maintained loyalty despite drastic turns of events. Golgren cultivated that sort as a breeder of those fighting amaloks who evinced the strongest builds, the sharpest horns, and-most of all-the fiercest tempers.
The four commanders eyed the seated Wargroch with some displeasure, as they considered Golgren the only rightful occupant of the throne. Wargroch remained seated, determined to remind them that he had been made ruler in Golgren’s absence. That was important if he was to have his orders obeyed; his commands had to appear as though they issued directly from the Grand Khan himself.
“Garantha is threatened,” he declared in as succinct a Common as any ogre could speak. It would have been much simpler to tell the four all they needed to know in their native tongue, but that would have looked wrong. Those warriors especially would expect to hear their orders in Common, and Common alone.
They reacted as expected, straightening and glancing at one another, before returning their narrowed gazes to him. Their forces were the primary defenses of the capital.
“The hands must march.”
He received more than one surprised grunt. Wargroch did not allow the four time to think or react. He had made a decision, and he needed them to obey without question.
“They must march to meet the Black Shells.”
“Neraka?” grunted one commander, his mouth twisted into an expression of hatred. “The Skolax G’Ran, they come?”
Wargroch nodded. “Yes, and we will meet them. We will crush the Black Shells.”
He received nods and growls of approval. Mention of fighting the Nerakans was enough to whet appetites and curb any opposition. More than one of the commanders looked already eager to be off preparing his warriors.
Nor did Wargroch wish to delay them. “Varuus Sha. You march to Varuus Sha.”
They knew the settlement. Varuus Sha lay near one of the more obscure parts of the western border between the ogres and the territories controlled by the Black Shells. The Skolax G’Ran were clever foes; they often slipped in through desolate areas.
“Varuus Sha,” snarled the senior among the four. “We go!” He slapped his fist against his breastplate. The others imitated him.