Richard Knaak - The Fire Rose

The diversion of the valuable water supply from the mountaintops was one of the Grand Khan’s most under-appreciated successes. True, the inhabitants of Ben-ihm knew they could not live as well as they did without those channels, but the rest of the ogre realm considered such engineering feats as nothing compared to victories over a strong enemy.

Even Khleeg shifted impatiently atop his mount as his lord halted the column for a moment to admire the handiwork that had taken so much effort and more than a few lives to accomplish. Even his ancestors, Golgren felt, would have appreciated that kind of victory-at least more than those around him did.

Barech met them on the outskirts of the settlement, a stalwart contingent from his force peeling away to form an honor guard for the Grand Khan. Ben-ihm was not a vast place, and no building rose higher than four stories, but all the warriors and locals had turned out for what was for them an extremely momentous event.

“Grand Khan honors us,” Barech declared, proud of both the occasion and the excuse to show off his grasp of Common. Like many ogres of Kern descent, he had even tried to emulate Golgren’s appearance. Not only were his tusks filed down, but he had had his thick, brown hair oiled so that it bore a reasonable similarity to his lord’s own well-groomed locks. Unfortunately, Barech had a very ogre countenance, with a thick brow and so flat a nose that he almost looked as if he had none. His jaw was wider than average and thrust out as well.

Golgren acknowledged the fanfare. Right at the moment when they reached the rounded, clay-topped buildings that housed the warriors of the hand, he asked Barech, “Your fighters. They will be able to march tomorrow?”

The officer grunted in surprise. “March?”

“Word was sent,” interjected Khleeg with some frustration. “The Skolax G’Ran enter Golthuu!” Although Solamnians and Nerakans were often described by the color of their “shells” or armor, ogres had other names for them. The Knights of Solamnia were called the Shok G’Ran , or “the shelled ones who bite like lions” (with shok being the ancient word for the king of beasts). The Knights of Neraka, on the other hand, were known by the other term because the ogres considered them no better than skolax -an insidious, tiny scorpion with two tails, which often hunted in packs to bring down prey much larger than one could have. Ogres burned their nests whenever they came across them.

Barech grinned, eager for battle. But Golgren corrected the other ogre’s assumption. “Khleeg rides to meet Khemu. Khemu and Khleeg will ride to Angthuul. Barech, your hand rides to the Vale of Vipers.”

“Vale? Skolax G’Ran near Vale too?”

“No. Your Grand Khan goes to the Vale.”

He needed to say no more. Barech saluted. “My Grand Khan rides. I ride with my Grand Khan!”

In the past, the arrival of a Grand Khan would have meant trying to put on the best spectacle that even a poor settlement could manage. But Golgren desired no spectacle. He retired to the quarters normally used by Barech. Khleeg set guards at the door; the Blodian insisted that only warriors who were thoroughly trusted keep watch over the Grand Khan. Khleeg left his lord to find the place beyond the walls where the rest of his force slept.

Inside, the furs were heavily matted and clearly infested. Discarding them, the half-breed ruler stretched on the rock floor. He had slumbered on far worse over the course of his violent life.

But Golgren did not quickly fall asleep. Almost as soon as he was alone, he had a sense that eyes were upon him, eyes that saw not only what he did, but what he thought as well. Suspecting the Titans, Golgren kept his sword close, but no enemy suddenly assailed him. Gradually, the half-breed drifted off.

Even in sleep, there was no escape from the sense of being watched. The uneasiness entered his dreams. Sinister orbs watched him. Some were the eyes of ogres, others of men, and still others were the pupilless golden orbs of the Titans.

A bright light, brighter even than the sun, burned away the darkness of the dream. Golgren found himself standing alone in a beautiful golden land. The lush trees, the rolling hills, all gleamed. In the distance rose an amazing city whose walls and barely seen towers were also gold.

And when Golgren happened to glance down at himself, he saw that even he was not immune from the brilliant hue, which spilled over and through him and colored him.

But his glance was cursory, for the city beckoned to him as if it were a beauteous female. Golgren took a step toward the city and suddenly flew into the air. The landscape below raced past him. The walls grew tall, the towers taller. The Grand Khan could see the turrets on the towers and the glittering stones encrusting everything. He instinctively knew the glitter was of diamonds and marveled at the wealth of the builders.

There were winged creatures fluttering above the city in great numbers, sleek avians who seemed to take little notice of his approach. Golgren paid them no further mind, as he was only interested in flying over the wall and discovering what secrets lay within the mysterious place.

As he drew closer, he suddenly felt an inexplicable desire to halt. It was almost as if some invisible guardian stood nearby, whispering in his ear that he had no right to enter. The Grand Khan peered around, seeking the cause of such an odd sensation, but he found nothing suspicious. Golgren started once more toward the gleaming walls-

The massive flock suddenly turned toward him. As it did, the sleek avians grew larger and thicker. Arms sprouted, and feathers became leathery hides.

A vast swarm of gargoyles plunged eagerly toward Golgren. Their beaklike muzzles opened, revealing long, sharp teeth. Razor claws snatched at the air. They converged on the floating figure-

An astounding warmth suddenly filled Golgren, a warmth that readily burned away any anxiousness he might have concerning his attackers. With a wave of his hand, he sent the entire horde spiraling out of control. With another gesture, Golgren transformed each and every gargoyle into tiny raindrops that pelted the city.

The Grand Khan pointed at the trees below. The trees became warriors of gold, all displaying his face and wielding swords nearly as long as their arms. He turned the gold trees toward the city with the intention of having them storm it, and realized that no wall could stand against his might. He gestured at the city-

The walls, the towers- everything -burst into flames.

But that was not what Golgren had intended. He immediately dismissed the rising flames. Or at least he tried to. Not only did the fire refuse to extinguish itself, but his attempts to put out the flames had a contrary effect. The flames rose higher and stronger, engulfing all before him.

Without warning, his golden warriors raised their swords and charged headlong into the fire. Golgren moved to stop them, but they no longer obeyed. As the flames engulfed them, each melted into a puddle of liquid that pooled together with the many puddles around them. A great burning river formed and poured out into the gleaming countryside.

There was nothing around Golgren save fire. The warmth he had felt previously turned into a heat that seared his flesh. Fire burst from his fingertips. He tried to brush it away, but his actions only seemed to fan the flames.

Golgren suddenly sensed another presence nearby. He looked up to see someone stepping through the all-consuming fire as though it were nothing.

The faceless golden figure.

Golgren woke at last from his fiery dream. He lay on the floor, covered in sweat. There was a pressure on his chest. Immediately, he tugged on a thick chain around his neck, one that he had only removed once as of late-before he had stripped to fight the legionary whose death was used to bless the blades given to Khleeg’s warriors.