The pile shifted as one. Stepping back, Khleeg pointed at two of his companions and at the pile.
With ease, the pair pushed the shifted stone aside, revealing a hidden tunnel. Khleeg went first, the officer bending to enter. A few steps in, Khleeg stood to survey a passage whose solid stone walls surely dated back to Garantha’s founding.
With growing eagerness, Golgren’s second in command led the four other loyal ogres along the narrow path. They came across some minor cracks in the stone, but for the most part the tunnel was clear of obstructions. Since discovering the ancient passage and having it repaired, Golgren had ensured that it would remain in good working order, just in case a hidden route was needed.
There was no light in the tunnel, but there was only one direction in which to travel. The only mark of their progress was a faint silver line drawn across the width of one part of the tunnel. Khleeg knew it to indicate the point where the tunnel crossed under the protective wall surrounding the palace.
At the other end of the tunnel, he encountered a marble wall. With no light to guide him, Khleeg ran his hand over the left side of the wall until he located a tiny lump. He pressed it and used his weight to push against the wall.
The wall gave way, sliding like a door until there was enough of a gap for the huge ogres to squeeze through. Sword in hand, Khleeg entered first.
He emerged in one of the lower levels of the palace, a place left in disuse for generations by Grand Khans who had acted more as squatters than as true lords of the ancient edifice. Again, it had taken Golgren, inquisitive of the nature of the ogres’ great ancestors, to discover the disused level.
The room was filled with dust and years of cobwebs. Khleeg cut through a dense curtain of silken threads, sending scores of thick, black spiders skittering away. Huge, shriveled rodent bodies hung in some of the webs, while on the ground lay bones of other creatures next to gnawed remains of the spiders.
Golgren had left the webs and bug creatures as another deterrent against explorers. Khleeg followed the narrow way his lord had shown him, without deviating from the recommended path. Khleeg knew there were other things in the supposedly empty chamber-things hidden from the sight of Khleeg and the others-that were far worse than rats or spiders.
With growing relief Khleeg led his small party through the rusting iron door at the far end and up a set of blocky steps to the next level. They were near their goal. Khleeg had confidence that Syln had in the meantime reached the gates.
They came through a newer heavy door, one with the sign of the severed hand of Golgren molded into it. Khleeg had one of the warriors cautiously shove it open.
One of the outer halls greeted the band. Khleeg paused, orienting himself. The faces and figures of High Ogres living their opulent lives filled his view from the opposite walls. Khleeg snorted at the lighthearted moments in some of the depictions that contrasted with his own tense emotions.
“That way,” Golgren’s second in command finally ordered, indicating a path to the right.
They had gone no more than a few steps when the sound of someone approaching sent Khleeg and his warriors behind the nearest column.
But to his surprise, it was Wargroch and two guards, who came rushing down the corridor to where they hid.
Khleeg leaped out. “Wargroch!”
The other officer stopped, surprised. “Khleeg?”
“Ha!” Golgren’s second in command slapped Wargroch on the shoulder. The four warriors with him stepped out of their place of concealment. “The palace! It is secure?”
“Secure? Yes. How have you come?”
Khleeg quickly spoke of the secret passage. Wargroch’s eyes widened.
“Enough!” Khleeg said. “Syln waits at the gate! Must open the way for him!”
“Syln expects that?” Wargroch rubbed his thick jaw. “Syln will enter, yes.”
At that moment, more guards appeared. Wargroch gestured for them to lower their weapons. He started to lead Khleeg on.
“Atolgus is in Garantha, Wargroch.”
“Yes. That I know.”
The senior officer paused to stare at his counterpart. “You know?”
“I have seen Atolgus.”
Khleeg grunted. “There must be magic at work. Atolgus cannot be in Garantha without magic. It is”-he searched for the Common word, but could not find it-“ba’gharuc!”
“Unarguable. The word is ‘unarguable,’” Wargroch answered. “It is a hard word for ogre mouths.”
“Unargu-Yes. It is Titan magic.”
Wargroch gestured, continuing with leading Khleeg. Behind the duo, the guards and the four warriors followed.
“Titan magic, yes,” agreed the younger officer. “They have taken the elves too.”
The senior officer’s eyes blazed. Matters were worse than he thought. “Atolgus must be stopped. After that, the Titans.”
“No.”
Khleeg stumbled. He stared at Wargroch. “No?”
“They must win.” Wargroch leaned close to the other ogre, his face close to Khleeg’s. “They will win.”
Khleeg felt a sudden pain in his side. Wargroch stepped back, revealing a dagger in his hand.
Blood dripped from the point, spotting the marble floor Golgren had always ordered so meticulously polished.
There was also blood dripping from Khleeg’s side, just where the front and back plates of his armor came together.
His warriors tried to rush to his aid, but Wargroch’s guards suddenly turned their weapons on the four. An axe cut down one of them. The other three dropped their weapons.
With a roar partly fueled by his pain, Khleeg swung wildly at Wargroch. The other officer jumped back, drawing his own sword. He parried Khleeg’s attack, but instead of counterattacking, simply stood back, keeping away from Khleeg.
Khleeg tried to carry the fight to him, only to have one of his legs give way. He fell to his knees.
His hand could no longer clutch his sword. The weapon dropped to the floor with a loud crash. Golgren’s second in command grabbed for it, but his fingers would not work.
He stared at the only wound he had. It hurt, but it was not so bad a wound to have hurt him so quickly and terribly.
“Ta’ki’agrur,” Wargroch rumbled, carefully sheathing the dagger. “The word in Common, it is ‘vengeance.’ Vengeance. It is a Common word that I like.”
“Ta’ki’agrur?” The dazed and confused Khleeg was finding it hard to concentrate. “Vengeance?”
“The mongrel, he must pay with blood. For my brothers. For the blood of Nagroch. The blood of Belgroch. The mongrel will pay for their blood. With you. With his dream.”
Struggling to rise, Khleeg rasped, “N-Nagroch … But he served the Grand Khan-”
“His life Golgren claimed with a dagger.”
Khleeg knew the story. Nagroch had failed in a duel with the future warrior-mate of the Uruv Suurt emperor. Golgren had taken Nagroch’s life when she had refused to kill him. “It was n-n-”
“Necessary?” Wargroch snorted. “That also. Die, Khleeg. The mongrel will be with you soon enough.”
Golgren’s loyal officer could no longer speak. His vision was fading. He made an awkward grab at his wound.
In the process he lost his balance. Khleeg sprawled on the floor and lay still.
Wargroch bent down and turned Khleeg over. He looked closely. After a moment, he stood.
“The meredrakes are hungry. The poison will not kill them.”
Two of Wargroch’s guards sheathed their weapons and picked up the body. He watched as they carried Khleeg’s body away. As that happened, another guard approached.