Chương 175: Chapter 313: The Third Trial

A chill ran through me.

"What kind of trouble?"

"He was caught consorting with another goliath," Tarnasha said, sounding unconcerned.

"It was not his sister," Glasha added, not helping my angst.

"Where is he then?" My anger and concern started to rise. These clerics should have kept Maveith from getting into trouble.

"The warlord he offended has co-opted his labor until the end of the Trials. Do not worry. Harming Maveith in any way would allow you to take his life," Glasha said indifferently.

"Where do I find this warlord and my friend?" I said icily, not caring about orc honor.

"You should let it be," Tarnasha started to say, but Glasha interrupted him with a slight smile. Glasha stood.

"I will bring you to him. We can resolve this tonight if you wish." I was exhausted, but I was not going to let Maveith toil away for a warlord. Glasha rose, and I followed her out. As we walked, she talked.

"It is Warlord Korth. He was a supporter of Fioasha and will not be happy that his chosen candidate is dead while Mynasha remains," Glasha explained.

"Tell me what I need to know. I thought Maveith was considered my attendant since I was Mynasha's First. If all of this is happening through your machinations to make me confront one of Mynasha's enemies, you will also feel my ire," I said heatedly. Glasha paused and looked at me.

"Maveith was trying to get word to his sister that he was here. He was lingering at the stream where goliath slaves fill large buckets. A human slave reported the interaction. Warlord Korth came to our camp and demanded his honor be restored. I negotiated the payment down to labor." It sounded like something Maveith would do, and think safe, but I was still blaming the clerics for letting it happen.

"And are you trying to force me to confront Korth?" I said heatedly, since Mynasha appeared almost giddy the closer we got. Glasha considered her words.

"Korth is a lost pup looking for purpose. It wouldn't hurt for you to show him Mynasha's strength. But no, I did not orchestrate a confrontation. You could let this play out, and Maveith will be back with us soon." I still felt like my strings were being pulled and what little trust I had with the clerics was wanning. I was silent as Glasha led us to a longhouse closer to the center of the valley, which told me that Warlord Korth was important in the Caliphate.

Orc attendants rushed inside as we approached, and two elite tattooed warriors guarded the entrance. They moved to block my path.

"I am here for my goliath," I stated loudly as I approached. I could hear voices and the sound of scrambling inside. The two orc elites gripped the pommels of their swords but did not draw them.

"Patience, he will come to greet you," Glasha whispered. The door to the longhouse opened, releasing the scent of cooking meat and incense. Warlord Korth was only slightly taller than me but much wider at the shoulder. Heavy hand axes hung on both hips. He was shirtless and had a sheen of sweat on his torso, which was covered in tattoos. He sneered slightly.

"The human comes to beg for his slave back."

"I don't beg," I replied flatly.

"You took my goliath while I was guiding your next Supreme on the second Trial. You besmirch my honor and I demand satisfaction." I didn't know if that was a correct challenge, but it sounded good. A growing grin appeared on Korth's face, and I guessed this was perhaps the outcome he had been hoping for.

"Humans are not entitled to slaves in the Caliphate and your position as a First is temporary." His sneer grew. I didn't know how to navigate the interaction. I looked at Glasha for help.

"Warlord Korth, the Elders have recognized this man as a First. During the Trials, all Firsts have the same status as warlords. If you wish, you can petition the Elders since there is no Supreme to pass judgment. Or you can release the goliath." Korth scoffed.

"The goliath was caught trying to convince my slave that escape was possible."

"I do not believe you. Bring my goliath here to speak for himself," I said, grinding my teeth. Maveith was not stupid enough to trust a goliath he had just met. Warlord Korth finally looked uncertain. Glasha erupted into a massive grin, seeing the uncertainty.

"Yes, let's question the goliath. If I recall, I think Cleric Hynasha can see the truth of words." It was finally Warlord Korth's turn to grind his teeth. The cleric and Maveith were both summoned. Maveith, for his part, did not look upset and only nodded at me with a small grin. I let Glasha do the talking, as I would probably escalate without need.

"Cleric Hynasha, you have been asked to confirm if the goliath's words are true." The cleric nodded. His body language told me he was familiar with Glasha and was perhaps even an ally. The warlord started to look even more uncomfortable. Maveith was questioned in Elvish by Glasha.

"Maveith, please retell the events." Maveith nodded knowingly to Glasha and I suddenly got angrier. Maveith was clearly in on this! Maveith's deep voice rumbled.

"I was getting water and struck up a conversation with another goliath, Jolan. I asked him if there was a goliath called Zorana in the valley. And if he did, to pass a message to her."

"And what was the message?" Glasha asked.

"Her brother Maveith is here," Maveith said. The warlord interrupted in terrible Elvish.

"Did you tell Jolan that you were here for her?"

"Zorana is not even your slave, Korth," Glasha snapped. Maveith answered the question anyway.

"I told her I was here. Not here for her."

"Truth," Cleric Hynasha confirmed, in better Elvish than the warlord.

"Since you have taken Eryk's goliath without cause, it is only fair that he take yours," Glasha announced. The warlord's hands went to his axes and squeezed the grips while we all waited. Instead of pulling his axes, he stormed off into his longhouse. A confused goliath soon exited and Maveith beamed. As we walked back to our longhouse, Glasha explained.

"Sorry, we needed you sufficiently angry to confront Warlord Korth."

"You didn't tell Eryk the plan?" Maveith rumbled.

"It was a dragon shit of a plan! What if I never returned from the Trial, Maveith? What if I had attacked the warlord before it was resolved?" I said angrily.

"Blame me," Glasha said.

"Maveith wanted to get word to his sister, and I came up with the plan." Maveith tried to calm me.

"Eryk, this is Jolan from a village not far from mine. He got word to Zorana that I am here."

"What does it matter? He is going to back to the warlord at the end of the Trials," I retorted. Glasha shook her head.

"No. It was established that Maveith was taken without cause. Jolan is now yours. I could try to explain it but it would only give you a headache." I didn't know how to express my anger at Maveith and Glasha for manipulating me. Maveith clearly looked guilty, but he had achieved his goal of sending a message to his sister, and we were here for her. I hope this subterfuge did not interfere with our efforts to save her.

He could have made things worse, but voicing my anger would only make him more anxious and potentially do something else stupid. We returned to our longhouse. Maveith gave me a quiet apology before heading off to talk with Jolan. Glasha went into deep discussion with Tarnasha and Mynasha. I rubbed down the horses, trying to calm myself, and eyed the new slaves and orcs working in the longhouse. There were four humans in drab brown smocks.

They looked well fed, but wouldn't make eye contact with me as they helped prepare a meal. Ginger's head lowered into my back, causing me to stumble from the unexpected shove.

"Damn it Ginger, I don't have any more apples," I said angrily, turning on her. She took the hint and turned away, abashed. I had forgotten that I had left three dozen apples with Woolasha, but it was too late to get them now. I wasn't angry at Ginger, but at being manipulated and seeing the human slaves. It didn't feel right and reminded me of how I had been forced to serve as a legionnaire, essentially a slave to the Telhian Empire.

Among the slaves were two old men, one bald and the other with closely cut gray hair. An older, pudgy woman with streaks of silver in her black hair seemed to be directing both the orcs and humans. The fourth human was a younger woman who was hauling buckets of water with two younger orcs. They were using yokes on their shoulders to carry two heavy buckets at a time. My protective instincts made me want to free her. I almost missed a divine sight as I was focused on the food being prepared on several tables.

Then I noticed the buckets filling a large brass tub that seemed to have a system of pipes for heating water. That could only mean one thing—a bath. I approached the older human woman and asked in Telhian, "How long have you been a slave?" She looked at me, confused. I repeated in Orcish. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. In a thick, sharp accent, she replied, "I was taken as a child from across the sea by slavers."

"Are you treated well?" I asked seriously.

"I am fed, clothed, and given time for leisure," she said cautiously.

"Do you need something from me, warrior?" My eyes unintentionally drifted to the bath briefly. She tsked at me.

"That bath is for Cleric Mynasha. She is to present her artifact before the Elders in the morning." I sighed, as a hot soak would have been nice to soothe not just my body but my mind. I looked over at the younger woman again as she entered, carrying two more buckets. She was closer to my age.

"What about her? How long has she been a slave?" The older woman looked at the younger one as I studied her. She had a tangled mess of auburn hair pulled back. Her face was marked with soot and faint freckles. The woman pursed her lips.

"Nolona has been with us since her teens, maybe twelve years." The old woman warned me seriously, "Don't get any ideas. She belongs to Warlord Rakkim and is only here to make Cleric Mynasha comfortable. She is not here for your comfort. He has killed others for defiling his property."

"That is not what I was thinking," I said indignantly. But anger simmered that the warlords treated people in such a manner. I could see I had made a poor impression on the woman, and the others were starting to stare. I was still unhappy with Maveith, so I let him talk to the new goliath in the corner. I moved to join the conversation Mynasha was having. Glasha had the Titan key in her hands and was using her lore ability on it. I joined them, waiting for her to finish and reveal its lore.

Glasha's eyes opened, her face marked by perspiration, and she exhaled a long, slow breath.

"It is a key to a vault high in a forgotten mountain city. The Titan was right, it is useless. My final images were of the vault being looted by elves thousands of years ago when the city fell."

"Then why did he keep it? It seems odd to carry around a key for thousands of years if it is useless," I said, annoyed. Glasha agreed with a nod.

"The Titan used it as a focus for light magic. The enchantments on the long side are for magnifying spells. They were also what allowed the key to open the massive vault doors." There was another issue that needed to be aired.

"Did you tell them?" I asked, making eye contact with Mynasha. Tarnasha chuckled.

"That you are concerned about others finding out you can store a griffin in your dimensional space?" He was clearly enjoying the fact that I was uncomfortable with the secrets I guarded for long.

"Don't worry, boy. If Warlord Rhuuk wants what you hold, he will challenge your honor. Even though he is one of the best warriors in the Caliphate, I think you can handle yourself." Glasha nodded in agreement.

"Mynasha said you had a number of intriguing…items. If you want me to delve into their histories, I will. I just need time to replenish my aether stores. The key took a lot from me." I nodded, but I was upset that Mynasha had so easily revealed my secrets to her allies. At least the door was open for me to have more of my curiosities examined by Glasha.

"What is the plan? What will the final Trial be?"

"Mynasha and Jhuarkasha will present their Titan artifacts in the morning to the Elders. I am sure they will be debating all night about who they prefer as the Supreme and will design the final Trial to accomplish that end result," Tarnasha said spitefully.

"Mynasha needs to look presentable before the Elders, warlords, and clerics. We are hoping for someone to donate something suitable for her to wear." Glasha indicated the array of supplies now littering the longhouse.

"I don't need …" Mynasha started to say. Glasha hissed at her, stopping her objection.

"You do. If you are to become the Supreme, you need to start looking the part. Not like some backwater village cleric." A brief argument broke out among the three, and I kept glancing at the slaves as they worked.

"Were you given ownership of those slaves?" I interrupted, pausing their conversation.

"They are on loan. They are just here to help, like the others," Glasha answered.

"You can do what you like with them." She gestured at the group. Why did everyone think I had an ulterior motive? The old woman had already warned me off, but maybe she was just protecting the younger woman in her group. The orcs continued their heated argument about what Mynasha needed to wear to impress the warlords.

"I have these," I said, producing the massive fire bear pelts. The pelts shimmered in the firelight from the cooking fire. They were marvelously soft, and with the proper lighting, almost seemed to be on fire themselves.

"Where on Desia did you hunt fire bears?" Tarnasha said, stroking the fur appreciatively.

"I think this is a fabulous idea. We can make a cloak for Mynasha and you. It will certainly draw the attention of the warlords. Not one in ten would be brave enough to take on such a beast this size." While they were ogling the pelts, I asked, "Do you mind if I use the bath first, then?"

"I wasn't planning to use it at all," Mynasha said. I took that as my cue and walked over to the large brass tub.

"I heard," the old woman hissed irritably. I smiled at her as I undressed and slid unabashedly into the hot water. It had been too long. An attendant handed me a bar of abrasive soap. As I scrubbed, I noticed something odd—not exactly noticed, but felt. My thoughts seemed muddled and harder to grasp. I closed my eyes and reached out with my healing and purify self spell forms. Damn, the orcs were sneaky bastards. The water was poisoned.

Well, maybe not poison, but it definitely contained some drug that was absorbed through the skin. I carefully let it work and pretended not to notice its effects, but I also tried to identify what it was supposed to do to me. It appeared to be a powerful muscle relaxant that fogged my brain. After I confirmed the effects, I eliminated the toxin from my body. It should not take a lot of effort for me to appear slow-witted. Let them think they had succeeded. Of course, the toxin was planned for Mynasha and not me.

From the angry stare of the old woman and two of the orcs hovering near her, I assumed they were responsible. If Mynasha had bathed first, she would have succumbed to the drug. I don't think Glasha's healing would have cured Mynasha before the third Trial in the morning. I don't even think her healing could have affected it. My purify self spell form was eliminating it, but my healing spell form had no effect on it. Knowing the old human woman was in on the deception made me less willing to care about her fate.

She had been targeting Mynasha, but her efforts had snared me. I took pleasure in the heat and her dismay for the next two hours in the tub. Across the room, the fire bear pelts were being attacked by a score of workers as they tried to make them into presentable cloaks before morning. The old woman slammed a mallet into the side of the tub. I had been pretending to sleep in the hot water.

"Get up or Cleric Mynasha will not have time to clean herself." I pretended to have difficulty standing when I exited and looked around, seeming confused as I slowly dressed. I walked in a daze to Glasha, who was overseeing the fabrication of the fire cloaks. I leaned into her and told her about the dangers of the water, then went to get some rest myself. I was sure Mynasha would not be taking a bath tonight. I slept heavily and woke up when Maveith shook me.

My hand was already on my hilt as my mind went into overdrive. I quickly reeled it in, remembering I had to appear drugged. Getting to my feet slowly, I saw that the activity in the longhouse had only increased in the few hours I had slept.

"Your new cloak is ready. I admit it is more opulent than the manticore cloak I made for you. I helped with some of the stitching. You will look regal, Eryk. Better than any of the warlords," Maveith said cautiously. He could probably read my body language, which indicated that I was not happy with him. The cloak draped well across my shoulders, and it was large enough to wear over heavier armor as well. Glasha nodded approvingly.

"You only need a crown to look like a king."

"I think I will pass. I have enough trouble being responsible for just a handful of men. Is …" I indicated a sleeping Mynasha with my chin.

"She decided she didn't want a bath, even though I told her she smelled like an ogre's ass." Glasha exhaled theatrically for the audience.

"Well, she might not smell like one, but at least she will look like a Supreme." The black spear appeared in my hands. If Warlord Rhuuk was returning, hiding the size of my dimensional space seemed like a moot point.

"Can you read this?" I indicated the impressive spear. The spiraling black wood grain of an ancient treant made up the shaft. The leaf tip looked just like an actual leaf, and the black metal added to the spear's mystique. Glasha's eyes widened, and she spun the shaft so the blade was on the floor. She pressed the blade between a crack in the floorboards.

"Don't show this to the warlords," she whispered, and looked at the slaves, who hadn't noticed the spear yet.

"The dull black spearhead is dark mithril. It is indestructible and will always keep an edge." Her excitement rose as she stroked the length of the shaft.

"It is a replica—made by a dungeon, but there are echoes of the original." Her eyes closed as her hands caressed the wood.

"Its name was Heartseeker. The favored weapon of the King of Caelora. The enchantments allow the dark mithril to cut through anything, even dragon scales if there is enough force behind the strike." She exhaled, her eyes remaining closed.

"The original still remains, and this weapon has a connection to it." Her eyes shot open and she coughed.

"Are you all right?" I steadied her.

"I … I … I tried to follow the connection back to the source but was rebuked. That … that shouldn't be possible." She pushed the spear into my hand.

"Put it away and only take it out if you truly need it. Something else can sense this weapon. Something powerful. I think it might be the King of Caelora or whatever is left of him." Great, one of my strongest weapons needed to be kept hidden from the original owner and envious warriors.

"It is time to wake Mynasha," Glasha said, collecting herself. I wondered if Mynasha had told Glasha that she was an otherworlder. Soon, there was a lot of activity as we made to get ready. I kept up my act of being a dullard from the drug. I hoped it would give us a small advantage when we entered the third Trial. We walked to the Elders' residence, both Mynasha and I wearing our hastily made fire bear cloaks. I had to admit that we did look good.

The consortium of warlords and clerics had circled the area outside the stone residence of the Elders. There were over three hundred people, by my estimate. Envious stares and whispers about our attire hung in the air. Even the assembled Elders looked shocked at our dress as the sun rose and illuminated the fire bear pelts. Warlord Rhuuk had a long black cloak made of fine fur, while Cleric Jhuarkasha had a dress made of yellow and red feathers. Both looked impressive, but they didn't equal us.

When things calmed, there was a ceremony to present the artifacts. The key was given first by Mynasha. Jhuarkasha presented a six-inch pick for cleaning underneath a Titan's nails. The Elders declared their veracity to the assembled crowd. The leader then addressed the assemblage.

"Cleric Fioasha fell during the second Trial. It has been determined that neither Cleric Jhuarkasha or Cleric Mynasha played a role. Instead, it was Warlord Etus who angered the Titans by demanding an artifact from them instead of paying homage to them." That solved the mystery of what had occurred before we arrived. The Elder took a deep, unhappy breath.

"The Choosing has but two remaining candidates." I could see the anger and disappointment on the faces of the Elders standing behind her and Warlords in the crowd.

"We have deliberated long and hard to decide on a suitable task for the final Trial that will enable us to find a Supreme to lead the Caliphate in the new era." The air was thick with anticipation as she paused dramatically.

"The candidates and their Firsts will enter the Warlord Dungeon together! The first to return with two sets of greater demon horns will assume the mantle of our next Supreme!" I grinned. Dungeons. Something I was good at. © Copyrighted 2024-2026 by AlwaysRollsAOne No permission is given to translate, copy, repost, or convert this original work of fiction into audio. If you're seeing this outside of my Patreon, RoyalRoad. com, or Scribblehub. com, it has been stolen without my permission and violates the DMCA.

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