Richard Knaak - The Fire Rose

Wargroch looked pained, as though the crystal in his palm had suddenly turned into a festering wound.

Golgren eased their concerns. “No, the magic owes nothing to the Titans.”

Indeed, he had only an hour past twisted them out of the hands of Tyranos. A wizard as wily as the leonine one surely knows how to arrange some manner of communication for Golgren to keep in close touch with his most trusted warriors . That was how the Grand Khan had phrased the suggestion to the human, appealing both to Tyranos’s pride and the wizard’s own stake in the ogre’s success.

Tyranos had protested, slamming the end of his staff into the marble floor of Golgren’s bed chamber. Yet in the end, the human provided had him with the three crystals-one each for Golgren, Wargroch, and Khleeg.

Hold the stone before your left eye and picture which of them you wish to speak with , the spellcaster had instructed. When Golgren had wondered at such simplistic instructions, Tyranos had shrugged and, in typical manner, asked the ogre if he wanted them to be made more complex and confusing.

The Grand Khan did not speak of Tyranos to either warrior, but he did repeat the instructions. Wargroch nodded, while Khleeg peered at the stone as if still wary that it would turn into something nasty.

Finally seeming to accept the necessity of the communication stone, Khleeg growled, “My lord, you must not ride alone-”

“I will ride with you as far as Ben-ihm, there to lead the hand of Barech to the Vale.”

His second in command grunted in satisfaction. “Barech is very loyal. Good.”

Wargroch was suddenly disconcerted. “Grand Khan! Let Barech guard Garantha! Let Wargroch ride with you to the Vale!”

“Your Grand Khan has chosen you, and you will guard my Garantha. Yes, Wargroch?”

“Yes, Grand Khan!”

A mastark trumpeted. Golgren looked past the pair. The first ranks of warriors were nearly at the main gates of the city.

“Come!” he commanded.

A crowd had gathered near where the new hand had formed for inspection. Barking cheers rose as the Grand Khan rode up. Golgren waved to all of them, looking every bit the confident conqueror. As he neared the gates, he looked up at the carved head of a huge griffon that had only recently been installed as a symbol of the city’s patron spirit. Its high, fierce head could be seen from a great distance away and also made for the proper backdrop to the ceremony about to take place.

A roar that sounded as if an eagle had swallowed a snarling cat cut through the cheers. Chained on a five-sided, wooden platform was the very creature for whom Garantha had been named. The griffon was a male, a powerful beast almost as large as a meredrake. Its torso was akin to one of the great cats: long, lean, obviously swift. However, instead of a sinewy, whip of a tail, the griffon had the plumage of a magnificent bird. The golden brown beast also had taloned feet as opposed to clawed paws. Already it had done its best to shred the platform.

The griffon had an avian head-a fearsome raptor’s profile, a sharp, hooked beak-but its eyes also had a feline cast that gave it a wise and perhaps distrustful look. The beast roared again, its unique cry silencing many in the crowd.

It flapped its mighty wings, but rose no more than an inch off the platform. Its wings had been clipped, an arduous ordeal for one of its kind. The male was a recent capture, and one that had originally been intended to dwell in a temple situated near the center of the capital, the Garan i Seraith -The Nest of the Griffon. But Golgren needed the creature in order that all should understand the situation.

The chain that held the griffon by the throat was twice as thick as the ones generally used. Golgren had ordered that security measure after the disaster at the Nest, when his enemies had sabotaged those keeping the two in the temple at bay.

At his nod, a trumpeter at the opposite end from the griffon blew the call announcing Golgren’s readiness. Flanked by Khleeg, Wargroch, and his guards, the Grand Khan stepped before the front of the platform and faced the throng.

He drew his sword. Khleeg and Wargroch imitated him.

“Iskar’ai!” Golgren shouted. “Victory!” he repeated in Common.

There were scattered cries of both words from the crowd and the warriors of the new hand. The ogre term faded as more and more picked up the second, Common version. All were aware of the decree that Common be the tongue to speak, and all wanted to prove they were eager followers of their ruler’s commands.

As one, Golgren and his two officers turned to face the griffon. The winged behemoth lunged at them, but the chain did not permit it to come anywhere near them-at least as yet. Undaunted by its savage beak or huge, slashing talons, the trio stepped up onto the platform.

As they did, Khleeg and Wargroch moved away from Golgren, flanking him from behind. They held their swords at the ready, but did not advance toward the griffon.

Holding his blade before him, the Grand Khan confidently approached the angry beast snapping its beak. Just out of striking reach, Golgren saluted the great creature.

“Let the spirit of the winged hunter fly ever above the warriors of Golthuu,” he intoned loudly. “Let them strike with its swiftness, cut with the sharpness of its talons, and rip out the hearts of the enemy with the power of its bite!”

The griffon roared.

Golgren lunged. The beast’s talons tore at the air just above his head, and its beak scored the shoulder of his maimed arm. The ogre leader aimed for the creature’s chest, which was covered in both feathers and fur.

His blade made a nick there. A thin stream of blood dribbled out.

Golgren withdrew. He studied the tip of his weapon, which was all but clean.

The Grand Khan stared at the furious, squawking beast. He observed the grabbing talons and judged the distance between him and its snapping beak.

And again, he lunged.

One talon cut across his cheek, but Golgren avoided having his entire face torn off by rolling underneath the attack. The griffon twisted. The chain not only slowed its movements however, but made the creature stumble.

Golgren’s blade came up. Its tip cut more deeply into the beast’s chest. Golgren could have shoved the sword in deep, but instead he quickly withdrew the blade and threw himself to the side.

The griffon pursued, but before it could reach its tiny assailant, the Grand Khan had moved beyond the chain’s length.

The crowd and the assembled warriors cheered.

Golgren raised his sword for all to see. Its top was red, and a thin streak of blood ran down to the hilt.

“The spirit of Garantha gives victory to its people!” he shouted.

Khleeg and Wargroch came to their lord’s side. The two officers raised their swords so that the tips of their weapons touched Golgren’s. Streaks of blood spread to their swords.

In the background, the griffon roared and roared. Its wound was a superficial one, exactly as intended. Had Golgren killed the creature during the ceremony, it would have meant that the spirits would forecast misfortune for any battle to come. On the other hand, had the griffon maimed or slain him by some chance, it would have meant that the patron spirits had decided a new ruler was needed for the sake of the ogre race.

Instead, by proving his courage, cunning, and skill, the Grand Khan had shown that those spirits still proclaimed him true master of his people and victor against all foes.

Golgren let his two officers share a bit more blood from his sword. By doing so, he symbolically extended the griffon’s protection to those he most trusted. The warriors who followed Khleeg would see him as an extension of the Grand Khan, just as those under Wargroch’s authority in Garantha would understand that he spoke with the voice, the wisdom, of their leader.