Tears of Liscor, page 64
part #9 of The Wandering Inn Series
He smiled at Mrsha, who padded back over, smug as could be. Her establishing dominance as the pack leader over the mastiff was impressive, even if she did have a bit of help on her side. Gnolls were naturally good at commanding dogs, with whom they shared a distant ancestry. But it was one thing for Elirr to force a dog to submit and quite another for Mrsha to do it.
“You are bold and reckless, perhaps. If you had gotten bit, what would I say to Lyonette?”
Krshia bent to tickle Mrsha and gently scold her. The Gnoll smiled, not at all deterred. For all she lived in the inn, she was a Plains Gnoll, pure and simple. Bold, a member of a tribe. As Krshia had been.
With that excitement out of the way, Elirr, Krshia, and Mrsha finished setting up and got all the animals to vacate the room and go upstairs—into Elirr’s home. It was just temporary, but they didn’t want the animals to distract from the meeting. And soon, as the sun reached the midway point overhead, Gnolls began appearing in the shop.
Everyone knew that the Drake cities of the south were ruled by Drakes. While it was true that in some cities, members of the ruling body like Pallassian [Senators] could be Gnolls, it was almost always Drakes who occupied the Watch Captain posts, filled Council seats, and so on. In some cities, the Lords and Ladies of the Wall ruled, and they were obviously Drakes.
It was just how it was. The Drakes weren’t about to cede command of their cities to Gnolls, however many lived there. However, while their rules were often fair, Drakes and Gnolls were still two separate peoples with separate cultures and desires. Thus, City Gnolls had formed their own ruling bodies, unofficial and in secret, but ones that dictated how Gnolls behaved in all Drake cities.
They got together and chose representatives who, in a miniature, secret council of their own, ruled Gnolls from the shadows. Or rather, from comfy armchairs and couches with snacks on the table because no one wanted to squat in an alley and debate for hours on end. It was a different system from how a tribe functioned.
There could be no [Chieftain], so instead, a body of the oldest, wisest, most experienced, or simply highest-level Gnolls would decide on issues that concerned Gnollkind. Sometimes, they would just meet once every few months to agree that everything was good, grumble about arrogant Drakes and the foolishness of young Gnolls who had no respect for tradition, and eat food.
In those times, it was more like a social get-together and potluck. But when something of concern happened—tensions between Drakes and Gnolls rose, crime rose, or something like Liscor’s dungeon was found to be nearby—the Gnollish representatives discussed far more serious things.
One by one, they gathered. In a city as large as Liscor, one Gnoll could represent several thousand Gnolls. In a city like Pallass, each representative could represent ten thousand Gnolls who had chosen them from among their ranks. In this case, eleven Gnolls were present, all of whom were middle-aged or older, although Elirr was the oldest. They were not powerfully built [Warriors] or sharp-eyed [Archers]. Half of them had paunches, and only one of them, Beilmark, was in prime condition, although Krshia liked to think she still had a good figure.
They were the [Butchers], the [Bakers], and the [Chandlers] of the city. The nature of the class didn’t matter as much as the depth of experience each Gnoll had. It was about respect. About leadership. It was something you earned and weren’t given. Drakes couldn’t understand that, but it was second nature to Gnolls. As they came in, exchanging greetings with Elirr and Krshia and bending to smile and say hello to Mrsha, the Gnolls were friendly, conversational. They were equals here, not enemies squabbling for political gain.
However, there had to be a first even among equals, and Krshia Silverfang was that Gnoll. Not only had she led a large portion of the Silverfang tribe to Liscor ten years ago, which gave her authority over the others, she had the benefit of a relatively high level and her experience as both a plains and city Gnoll to speak with.
“Raekea Silversmith. How is your husband? Does his leg still pain him?”
Krshia greeted a Gnoll [Armorer] who was married to the best Drake [Blacksmith] in the city. The Gnoll grinned at her, her arms patterned with burns and the hair missing in patches. It was rare for a Gnoll to take up a metalworking class given the dangers to anyone with fur on their body, but such rare individuals were always respected for their sacrifice.
“Well, Krshia. He is well, although it pains him. But the ointment you gave us worked well. I only wish the Raskghar bastard who tried to kidnap me was back so I could split his head open a second time. And is this the little brave Gnoll I have heard so much about? Hello, child.”
Krshia grinned as Raekea bent and scratched Mrsha’s ears. The Gnoll cub was staring up admiringly at her. Raekea believed in advertising her work, so she wore an armguard both she and her husband had worked on together, a classy piece of silver set with amethysts. It covered a large burn Raekea had received in her past.
“I see the others are mingling. Will you speak with me for a bit?”
The [Royal Shopkeeper] indicated the others, who were standing and talking while eating Elirr’s food. That was how the meeting went; until a decision had to be made, the representatives would just talk about business, the issues of the day, and news. They didn’t do formal meetings since that was too regimented for their tastes. It was in the small discussion that all the work got done, such as Krshia’s conversation with Raekea.
The [Armorer] nodded. She sat with Krshia on a pair of worn armchairs that smelled faintly of cat pee. Krshia chewed on a cold sausage with cheese—she’d brought it from home since Elirr hated cheese and didn’t have any in his home—and spoke candidly.
“The news sounds dire. First the attack is announced, and then, not a day afterwards, spies are sent to sabotage the connection to Pallass. We are cut off.”
“Yes. It was a shame. And it speaks to the danger we are in.”
Raekea nodded seriously. Below them, Mrsha sat on the ground and happily ate lunch. Krshia nodded.
“I see Beilmark is here. Did you hear what she had to say?”
The other Gnoll woman grimaced and flexed an arm.
“She thinks we can hold Liscor. She has spoken with Watch Captain Zevara and heard Olesm’s numbers. With the Antinium, with Pallass’ reinforcements, few though they may be, with adventurers…we can hold long enough for a relief army to arrive.”
“And will it be enough to break the siege?”
“She claims it will. Whether that is so I wonder at, Krshia. I truly do. I am uneasy with this Goblin Lord and the machinations of Tyrion Veltras. I know others here and in the city wish to flee.”
“Abandon Liscor? Just like that?”
Raekea met Krshia’s eyes steadily.
“If it is that or death—yes. I have spoken with my husband. He is Liscor-born, but when he looks at our child…yes, Krshia. We would run to save him. But I am not ready yet.”
“I see.”
Krshia nodded and thanked Raekea. She stood up and found another Gnoll to talk to and then another. She heard the same each time. They weren’t committed. Not yet. But if it looked like all was lost, if it was this or certain death…Beilmark and Elirr were the last two she spoke to.
“You must convince them to stay, Krshia. If Gnolls begin deserting Liscor, if Drakes begin fleeing, then the city is lost.”
Beilmark did not mince words. The Senior Guardswoman was one of the youngest Gnolls present, but she had earned her place here by her deeds. She gestured at the others.
“We can convince them to stay. If we do, fewer Drakes will run. And we need every paw and tail to defend Liscor.”
“And will we defend it with our lives? Will we spill our blood out as the Goblins and Humans overwhelm us, Beilmark?”
Krshia pressed the younger Gnoll, looking into her eyes. Beilmark shook her head, meeting Krshia’s gaze steadily.
“I would not kill my people, Krshia. I would run before that. But the danger to Liscor is more complex than just a game of numbers. Thanks to Olesm, reinforcements are on the way. They will arrive too late, but if we can hold—think on this. The Humans have trebuchets. But they cannot batter down our walls with one or two volleys. It will take time, and our fortifications are enchanted. Tough. We have to hold. The Goblins are not suicidal. Push them back, hold them, and a relief army will arrive.”
“It is a gamble.”
“Yes. But one I will take. But it cannot be done if Liscor is half-empty. We will have to support the defenders, take to the walls. If even a third of all Gnolls hold a bow—Olesm has more than one strategy. He has spoken of retreating into the dungeon. And there are the Antinium! Krshia, it can be done.”
The look in Beilmark’s eyes convinced Krshia that she was serious. But was she right? Finally, she spoke to Elirr. The Gnoll was quiet as they sipped tea and sat. Mrsha was curled up, napping.
“So. I think we are split. More in favor of leaving than staying perhaps, but split five to six. Do you agree?”
“I do.”
Elirr nodded. He was one of the ones who favored leaving more than staying. Krshia eyed him carefully. Then she came out with it.
“I am of the mind that unless all is lost, we must hold to Liscor as one. And you?”
The older Gnoll hesitated. He played with his cup, speaking slowly.
“I—I have lived through more than just the Antinium Wars, Krshia. I was young, but I remember conflicts that left hundreds of thousands dead and burned cities. Liscor did not fall in those days, but I remember the tribes going to war and so few returning in the ones that did. I am not saying we should run. But I am not confident enough to pledge all our lives if it means death.”
“So that means what?”
Elirr leaned forwards. He spoke so softly only the two of them could hear.
“It means convince me. Convince us. Beilmark will wish to stay regardless, but the others are afraid. If we are to fight and bleed for Liscor, tell us why.”
He looked at her. And Krshia saw he wanted to stay, but he was afraid of dying. It was a common fear. So she stood up and looked around.
The other Gnoll representatives were chatting, but they fell silent. They could sense Krshia had something to say. They gathered around her, and Mrsha woke up. She sleepily crawled into Beilmark’s lap, and the [Guardswoman] held her as Krshia spoke.
“So we have debated. So we have shared information. To those of you who may not have heard, young Mrsha was tested at my apartment earlier today. She knows magic. She can read the book. It is genuine, and the Silverfang tribe will present it at the Meeting of Tribes.”
A sigh ran through the room, and Mrsha looked up as everyone stared at her. Just for a second. Then Krshia spoke again.
“War threatens Liscor. The Humans do not call it that, and the Drakes will not declare it, but when the Goblins assault Liscor, what is a word? It will come, and this time, they have brought siege weapons, to at last threaten the Drake cities. Perhaps even the Walled Cities in time. But it is war that will start here. Now our only decision is this: do we stay and fight and possibly die at Liscor or flee southwards and abandon our homes that we might live?”
The others nodded. They waited for Krshia to speak. Everything else had been said, but she had the final voice. Krshia searched for the words, and they came to her, smoothly, from deep within. She spoke the same words she had years ago, to her sister on the day she had decided to leave for Liscor.
“Gnolls have existed since the first record of this world. Throughout thousands of years, we have lived. Not just on Izril. Our people have waned and risen with each passing era. In the beginning, there were Dragons, and they ruled us cruelly. We died for sport, as animals. But we survived. We survived the Sunset of Flame. We marched out of bestiality, survived the long darkness and kept our minds even as the Raskghar split from our people. We became more than animals, and we challenged the Dragons and brought them down.”
Mrsha sat up as Krshia walked back and forth, speaking from memory. The way Krshia spoke, the way she gestured, was familiar to her. Krshia was speaking like a [Shaman], as if she was telling a story from the past. But she was also speaking to the Gnolls of Liscor, who sat and judged her words in silence, drinking and eating slowly.
“Our people rose. We were mighty during the Rain of Scales. We fought the Selphids during the Age of Theft and threw loose the shackles with the rest of the world. During the Twilight of Magic, our armies joined the others and overthrew the half-Elven dominion. Again and again, we were challenged. And each time we lived and prospered. Eras past, the Gnolls rose and fell, and once, we were considered a world power among powers. But now? No more.”
Krshia looked around. Her eyes were sorrowful, and her voice grew deeper.
“In the past, we roamed Izril, made our homes in every direction. But then the Humans came, and we were forced south. Now the lands our tribes venture to have been cut in half. And with the Antinium, with Drake cities and their laws, the places we may walk grow fewer still. And our tribes grow smaller. Our [Shamans] grow weaker. We reduce in strength. Are Gnolls not considered barbarians by other races, called as crude and uncivilized as Garuda?”
It was so. The Gnolls murmured agreement. Krshia nodded. She looked at Mrsha.
“We are in the age our [Shamans] and [Chieftains] have declared the Waning World. A time where the legendary heroes of our kind are memories, and where tradition may hold us back as the rest of the world advances. Since the last Antinium War, since the Humans came, Gnolls have retreated rather than pay the cost in blood. We have always moved rather than stand stubbornly and die as the Drakes and Humans did. But see what it has cost us?”
She looked around, as if Elirr’s shop was suddenly a cage.
“New lands. That is what we need. New lands to grow unimpeded. Not just the north. We must spread from continent to continent. But we cannot run. We cannot abandon what we have to do. We must grow, and we must hold. If Liscor falls, the Humans will sweep south. If Liscor falls, we lose our homes. We have always moved from place to place, but the world is smaller now. We cannot abandon what we have. So I say to you this: we must stand here and fight.”
“And if we die, Krshia Silverfang? If the cost comes in the shattered bodies of your young, our families? Why not simply flee? We have the great gift meant for the tribes. Why stay and put it at risk?”
That came from a Gnoll with blonde fur who looked up at Krshia. The Gnoll woman met her eyes. She had not always been a [Shopkeeper]. Mrsha could feel it.
“We could run. And yes, we have a great treasure. It should not be lost. I propose we hide the book, put it in a bag of holding and hide it so that if Liscor falls, it may be recovered. We will tell the other tribes where it can be claimed. But I tell you this, Fashia Splitfur. There is more than just a single spellbook that defines the worth Liscor has to us.”
Krshia gestured at Elirr’s shop.
“My tribe, the Silverfang tribe, came here ten years back and labored all this time to build something. More than just a gift for the Meeting of Tribes. We founded a place here. Some of you have been here longer. You have families, homes, businesses. Will we throw it all away so easily?”
No one responded. Krshia looked at them.
“We fight. That is what I say. We fight and hold onto our homes. If we run again, we will not stop running until the last Gnoll dies alone in the corner of the world. We fight. Who will stay with me?”
The Gnolls looked at each other. Beilmark stood up slowly. Then Elirr. Then Raekea. Slowly, the rest of the Gnolls got to their feet. Some hesitated, others were reluctant until they saw the others standing. But they did stand. They were in agreement. Krshia breathed out slowly.
“I didn’t want to give up my shop anyways.”
Raekea grinned around, and the others chuckled. They stood more easily now, though Krshia could practically hear their hearts pounding. It was done. The Gnolls of Liscor would stay.
“So what next, Krshia?”
Elirr looked at Krshia. It was not the end of their discussion, for all that they had made a decision.
“If the Drakes begin to run, it will still be disastrous. Can anything be done about their fear? About the fear in the hearts of many Gnoll families as well?”
Krshia nodded. She did have a plan. It had come to her when she had looked at Mrsha and been jealous.
“We do what neither Drakes nor Humans can do. Drakes think they know unity and order? They form spear walls in battle and stand tail-to-tail. But only their soldiers, only in war. But Gnolls are one pack, one people. We are never alone. So let us run about this city of stone and prop it up. If the walls crack, we will hold them up. With more than just words.”
The other Gnolls blinked. Krshia took a deep breath.
“I propose a gathering of magic. I propose a spell.”
The others immediately looked towards Mrsha. Beilmark, who had been all the way behind Krshia up till now, protested.
“A gathering is a serious thing, Krshia. If it fails, it would shatter spirits. And the Drakes would notice. They may object. Besides, the most important issue is who will guide the spell? The child? Surely she is too young, and this is not something she would know.”
“I know. I will guide the spell. I was apprenticed to be a [Shaman], once. I can perform it.”
Krshia spoke simply. The other Gnolls blinked. Mrsha, sitting in Beilmark’s lap, looked at Krshia with wide eyes. The [Shopkeeper] smiled at Mrsha.
“You know magic, Mrsha child. But it is the magic of books and [Mages]. But today, I think, we will show you the magic of Gnolls.”
She turned and looked around the room. Then Krshia cupped her paws together. Elirr was the first to move. He stood up and walked slowly over to Krshia. He placed his paws in hers and smiled. The two said nothing, did nothing Mrsha could see. But then Elirr took his paws away. And then, shimmering in the midst of Krshia’s cupped grip, was a speck of light.
——
