Zylor sprang at his adversary once more and Traygor tripped him up with the butt end of the trident. Zylor fell heavily and Traygor raised his trident to impale him. Zylor rolled out of the way of the glistening tines just in time. As Traygor’s trident spiked the ground, Zylor grappled Traygor’s legs with his own and pulled him down.
Traygor threw his arms in the air, lost his grip on the trident, and fell.
Zylor grabbed the trident and threw it away, then sprang to his feet. So did Traygor.
The emperor wiped some blood from his mouth and glanced at his hand. “You fight aggressively for a minotaur simply wanting to be emperor.”
“That’s because you’re not fit to rule,” said Zylor.
“And why is that?” asked Traygor.
“You killed my father,” said Zylor.
“Was he the one who challenged me for leadership about eight years ago?” asked Traygor. “He was a pitiful old fool!”
“No,” growled Zylor. “It was longer ago than that. Surely you remember poisoning your own brother?”
Traygor paused, the realization of who Zylor was just dawning on him.
Zylor took advantage of the pause and hammered into his uncle again.
Traygor grunted and used his backward momentum to roll and pick up the discarded trident nearby.
“I thought you looked familiar!” he exclaimed. “I was wondering when you would show up and challenge me! I never thought you’d come back to do it this dramatically! I searched for you for years. I finally thought you were dead, but I guess I was wrong.”
“You were wrong about lots of things,” growled Zylor. He lunged at Traygor and grappled for the trident. They struggled, face to face, and Zylor rolled back, tossing Traygor over himself. The emperor flew over his challenger but miraculously kept possession of the trident. Both combatants rose from the rising dust and faced each other. The crowd roared distantly but neither noticed.
“You were wrong to kill my father,” said Zylor angrily. “You were wrong to kill the infant minotaurs in the hopes of killing me, and you were wrong to sacrifice minotaur lives to give the lizardmages a hold over our race. Shall I continue?”
“Fool!” shrieked Traygor. “I merely have to kill you and none of those deeds shall be known or acknowledged!” He feinted toward Zylor and then circled around him, bringing the sharp ends of the trident across Zylor’s leg. The prongs sliced deeply into Zylor’s flesh, and blood spurted from the wound. The crowd roared excitedly.
Zylor gasped as he sprang back too late. The cuts made by the trident stung with a piercing pain.
Back on the platform the lizardmage relaxed. It was over.
Traygor grinned wickedly. “Hurts, doesn’t it? You’ll find that you’ll be losing strength rapidly, nephew!”
The numbing in Zylor’s leg was suddenly replaced by a refreshing cool feeling. Milena’s herbs were working. Zylor grinned weakly. “If I’m so weak, why not impress your fans and defeat me with your bare hands?”
Traygor laughed. “Why not? It will put me in a more favourable light!” He threw the trident aside with a flourish, as he had seen Tornado do earlier. The crowd cheered and hollered.
Zylor chose that moment to lunge. Surprisingly, the druid’s herbs not only removed the poison and pain, it also had the effect of giving him renewed energy. He bowled the emperor over and they grappled on the ground viciously. Dust rose all around them and the crowd was on their feet, hollering loudly.
The combatants separated and regained their feet. Traygor was breathing heavily now.
“You should be finished,” gasped the emperor. “Where do you get the strength?”
“I am not strong,” said Zylor. “You are simply a weakling.”
The stinging remark had the desired effect. Traygor growled madly and charged and Zylor stepped aside as Sherman had shown him many times before. He ducked Traygor’s outstretched arm and elbowed him as he flew by.
The emperor went down with a grunt. He staggered to his feet and turned to face Zylor.
Zylor was already in motion. Despite his weakened leg, he sprinted the short distance between them and threw himself into the air, raising his leg in the process.
Traygor braced himself for the impact, unable to move out of the way in time. Zylor’s foot landed squarely on Traygor’s chest and the sound of shattering bones filled the air. The emperor flew backward with his arms and legs flailing and landed several feet back in an awkward heap. He tried to rise but collapsed again.
The crowd grew silent in shock. Zylor approached his uncle and looked down at him dispassionately. Traygor turned his head slowly and looked into Zylor’s eyes. He opened his mouth to speak and blood trickled out. “I didn’t want to do it,” he gurgled. “The lizardmage said it was for the best. Trogor wouldn’t listen. He resisted. It was a chance to become a great nation. I didn’t know it would turn out this way—.” His voice trailed off and he took a ragged breath. “Please believe me, Zylor.” Traygor’s hand shook as he reached up for Zylor. Then it dropped and the former emperor’s eyes closed for the last time. He was dead.
Graftor came running up and examined Traygor. Then he rose and lifted Zylor’s arm in the air. “Long live Emperor Zylor, son of former Emperor Trogor!” he cried.
The surprised spectators murmured among themselves uncertainly at first. Then Zylor’s original six supporters began to chant his name. Soon others joined them. Finally the entire arena rang with the chanting of Zylor’s name. He was the new emperor.
Farg was stunned. The trident had the most lethal poison on its tips! How could this insolent minotaur still be standing? It was impossible! How could Traygor lose this fight? He had cautioned against it, but Traygor insisted it would be O.K. He had to do something!
Zylor removed the royal belt from Traygor’s limp form and put it on to the delight of the crowd. He headed for the platform where the lizardmage stood.
In panic, Farg raised his staff and shot a fireball at the new leader of the minotaurs. It deflected off a magical barrier. A magical barrier?! He tried contacting the other lizardmages scattered throughout the arena and found he could not. Why were they not answering? He backed up uncertainly.
The new emperor pointed at him and yelled something. The armed minotaurs nearby converged on the hapless lizardmage.
The lizardmage fled under the spectator stands and ran along the lower walkways. The minotaur guards ran in pursuit. Farg ran until he could see the exit. No one was there! He rejoiced. Once free of the arena, there was a myriad of ways for him to escape. He looked back over his shoulder at his pursuers. They were gaining. He turned back to the exit and suddenly saw something impossible.
A disembodied sword floated in the middle of the entryway, aimed at him. He tried to stop but couldn’t. At full speed, he ran headlong into the sword. It pierced his scaly chest and exited his back, right through his cloak. He staggered to a stop and looked down in bewilderment.
“You should watch where you’re going,” said a voice. The sword was yanked from his chest and then vanished. Farg sank to the floor.
The minotaur guards found the lizardmage and former advisor lying at the entrance to the arena with a hole in his chest. No one else was around. They scratched their heads in confusion.
Chapter 59
Karlan stretched his weary muscles as he left the command tent. The tent was too small, as far as he was concerned, and such proximity to the lizardmages was stifling.
He had just been informed some of the lizardmen in the army were leaving on important business. When he asked what that was, they were evasive. He didn’t like the sound of that, but was glad they were going. They didn’t fight particularly well, anyway.
He observed the enormous army amassed at the banks of the Blood River as he strode toward his tent for the night. Tomorrow the Tower of S
trength was sure to fall. The defenders were weak and disorganized. The tide coming from the west was going to be too much for the humans to hold off this time.
Karlan thought about the tremendous honour he would gain when he became the first minotaur general to defeat the humans. He grinned. As usual, he would show them he could do something they could not, despite his shorter horns. He breathed the cool night air deeply.
“Psst! Karlan!” whispered someone.
Karlan stopped and peered into the shadows between two vacant tents. “Who goes there?” he said loudly.
“Shhh!” said the voice. “Not so loud! It’s me—Garad.”
“Garad?” asked Karlan. “Last I heard, you were in the navy.”
“I am!” answered Garad, now barely visible in the shadows.
“What happened?” asked Karlan. “You screw that up? I knew you wouldn’t amount to much. Why don’t you come into the open?”
“I’m the admiral of the minotaur fleet,” said Garad proudly. “I can’t come out in the open, by the way. I’m not even supposed to be here.”
“Admiral?! What the heck are you doing here?” asked Karlan.
“I’ll tell you somewhere private,” said Garad. “It’s important we talk.”
Karlan looked around furtively and then stepped into the shadows. “If this is another one of your hair-brained ideas—.”
“Listen!” said Garad urgently. He explained his (and Zylor’s) plans to the general of the minotaur army and what was transpiring in Grawn.
“I don’t know,” said Karlan doubtfully when Garad was finished. “How do you know—?”
“Support is overwhelming,” insisted Garad. “Besides, most of the army will do it anyway, with or without your orders.”
“What?!” exclaimed Karlan. “Are you serious?!”
“Yes,” answered Garad. “Most of them have been told about it already and agree that it must be done. They don’t like the lizardmages any more than you or I do. Look at it this way, Karlan. Why isn’t the emperor here right now, leading his forces as he should be? He’d rather spend his time with his lizardmage advisor! And even if Zylor loses the election battle, the rest of us should rise against the emperor regardless. He can’t send all of his people away in dishonour. He’ll be overthrown.”
“You guys are insane!” exclaimed Karlan.
“What are you gonna do?” smirked Garad. “Stop us?”
Karlan swore.
“You might as well join us,” said Garad, “otherwise you’ll lose your rank and someone else will take over.”
Karlan growled. “If this turns out wrong, Garad, I’m going to hunt you down and kill you—if it takes the rest of my life!”
Garad grinned and slapped General Karlan on the shoulder. “I knew I could count on you!” He turned to leave but stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Zylor could be a good leader, Karlan. You know him as well as I do.”
Karlan sighed. “Get out of here before I clobber you, Garad!”
Garad laughed and disappeared into the darkness.
Karlan remerged in the torchlight. He looked at the massive army in a new light. Garad was right. The minotaurs were severely depleted in number. Minotaurs accounted for less than a third of the assembled army. Similarly, the sudden walkout of the lizardmages on the eve of a great battle was rather unusual. What were those creatures up to, to warrant such an action?
He walked slowly among the tents thinking of the lost opportunity for honour. One moment he was about to be a renowned general, the next he was a traitor—of a sort. He shook his head wearily. There would be no sleep tonight. His sub-commanders had to be re-deployed and given new instructions, and all had to be done in secret. Karlan scratched his head as he thought of how to pull this off.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the Blood River, Milena looked wearily westward from high on the defender’s walls. It was dark, and the myriad lights of the enemy campfires twinkled deceptively welcomingly in the mild early morning mist. She sighed. There was no way they could hold off the enemy this time. Injuries and casualties had taken their toll on the defenders of the Tower of Strength. All of the clerics who worked with the druid kept a constant rotation of shifts to heal and care for the wounded. Many of those who were healed resumed fighting only to return the next day with new injuries and old wounds reopened. Others went back to fighting never to return. Instead they were carted off with the numerous dead into mass graves. Sometimes she wondered why they were defending the tower in the first place.
Milena shivered in the damp morning stillness. All these lives wasted, she thought. A sigh beside her startled her and she turned to see Della standing next to her on the tower’s battlements.
“You should be sleeping,” said Milena.
Della looked at the druid. “You’re one to talk. You need rest more than I.”
Milena smiled. “You can’t sleep either, eh?”
Della shook her head and looked across at the enemy campfires. “I wish Kazin were here. He could fry those creatures out there to a crisp.”
“You overestimate the power of a dragon,” said Milena. “Dragons are susceptible to powerful magic, the kind that those lizardmages wield. Together, they can defeat him without too much difficulty.”
Della looked back at the druid. “Really? I thought Kazin would be far more powerful.”
Milena shook her head. “No. He is mortal, just like you and me.”
Della returned her gaze to the distant campfires. “Do you think he likes me, Milena? I mean—he’s so powerful, and I’m just a mere elf.”
“What?!” exclaimed Milena. “How could you say that? He may be powerful, but he doesn’t let it get to his head! He treats us like he always has, despite his ability.”
“I know,” said Della, “but he wouldn’t let us come with him to help Zylor.”
“We’ve discussed this all before, Della.” said Milena flatly.
“But I feel like he just pushed us aside,” protested Della. “Maybe he won’t return—.”
“Don’t be silly, Della,” said Milena seriously. “He’ll come back. He promised.”
“How can you be sure?” insisted Della. “What if he has something more important to do after helping Zylor?”
Milena laughed and put her arm around the little elf. “You have no idea, do you? Even if Kazin had no reason to come back, he would still come back for you!”
Della glanced up at the druid. “Really?”
Milena laughed and led the elf back to their quarters within the tower.
Chapter 60
The sun rose in a red sky the following morning. Karlan looked for his sub-commanders and saw they were all in position. The lizardmages in command of the other forces noticed the change of positioning on the minotaur’s part but dismissed it out of hand, thinking it was merely a change meant to compensate for the lizardmages who had already departed the previous night.
The sun had almost risen, barely visible behind and slightly to the right of the Tower of Strength.
Karlan noticed another change as well. There seemed to be more minotaurs present than there should be. Then he recalled Garad’s mention of his own men spreading the word about their new plans. The admiral had secretly added his own forces to those of Karlan’s. The general nodded in satisfaction. There was enough honour to go around for all of them.
Karlan looked nervously at the western sky but there was still no sign of Zylor or the dragon Garad said he would be riding. It all seemed insane, yet Garad insisted they go through with their plan. Karlan hoped for Garad’s sake that he was telling him the truth. Garad would be the first to pay the price if everything fell apart. He would see to that.
“We should sound the horn,” said a raspy voice beside the minotaur general.
Karlan glared at the liza
rdmage. “Soon.”
“Why wait?” said the lizardmage. “Aren’t you anxious to end this war?”
“Not yet,” said Karlan stiffly. Lizardmen were pushy, but important decisions were still made by the minotaur general. One of those decisions was to determine when to commence battle. If he said not yet, his decision prevailed.
“Suit yourself!” snapped the lizardmage. “Just don’t wait too long, or you’ll have a rebellion on your hands. The last minotaur who hesitated before going into battle was sent away in dishonour. Don’t make the same mistake!”
Karlan did not answer. He looked skyward and hoped Zylor would show up soon. It didn’t seem right to start a revolution without a leader to lead it.
Then, just as the sun cleared the eastern horizon, Karlan spotted a small black spot in the western sky.
“We should begin,” pressed the lizardmage.
“Shut up!” snapped Karlan. He waited for the speck to get closer. The lizardmage peered skyward and saw what Karlan was looking at.
“What is that?” asked the lizardmage nervously.
“My new orders,” said Karlan. He waited for the dragon to get closer and saw a group of figures on the dragon’s back. One was taller than the others, and his great horns gave him an almost ominous look. Others on the battlefield spotted the approaching reptile and pointed skyward.
“You didn’t tell us about these new orders,” hissed the lizardmage.
“You didn’t tell me what your important business was either,” growled Karlan. “Two can play at that game!”
The lizardmage hissed angrily but said nothing.
The dragon circled momentarily and then swooped down near Karlan, spotting his banner from the air. The minotaur riding the dragon threw something down and it landed in front of Karlan. It was a belt—the royal belt of the emperor. Karlan picked it up and saw a note attached to it. It read: To the general of the minotaurs—you have your orders. Signed: Emperor Zylor.
Kazin's Quest: Book I of The Dragon Mage Trilogy Page 59