by Dragon Lance
Something hissed. His mount, tied to a tree behind him, began to shift in unease. All notion of a human foe vanished. Nothing in Kaz’s experience had ever made a sibilant sound quite like that.
He leapt to his feet, axe at the ready. The hiss had come from so close that he was certain that the... thing... would instantly be upon him.
Nothing. The night was silent again. Kaz, however, did not relax. An unwary warrior was a dead warrior.
“This is what I get for seeking solitude,” the minotaur muttered, snorting.
A piece of the night shifted among the trees. Kaz hefted the axe and snarled but did not take a step toward the nebulous shape. Let whatever was out there come to him.
It did. The minotaur’s horse whinnied as the thing materialized.
“Sargas!” Kaz shouted, forgetting – in his astonishment – and calling on the dark god his own people worshiped. Kaz had forsaken Sargas for the just god Paladine, patron of the knighthood, but in times of great excitement, his heritage caught up with him.
The monster was huge. Standing, it would have been at least as tall as Kaz. In the darkness, he could not make out specific details, but the creature had a tail and looked like some sort of bizarre reptile playing at being human. Most important, the thing had long, wicked talons and jaws wide enough to snap a minotaur’s head off.
The monster stank. Kaz wrinkled his nose. Fighting back the urge to throw up, Kaz thrust the shaft of the battle-axe into what he hoped was the monster’s stomach.
He might have been striking rock, so armored was the beast.
Talons raked at his arms. The minotaur grunted in pain, but fortunately his attack had taken some of the fight out of the horrific creature. Kaz fought down the pain and pushed forward, trying to overpower the beast before it recovered. Once again, though, hitting it was like hitting a wall of stone. Kaz drove back the slashing claws of the thing, but nothing more.
Even this close, Kaz could not see what it was he fought. It was reptilian, yes, but like nothing the minotaur had ever come across in the war. Almost it resembled... but that was impossible.
It came for him again.
Twisting the axe around, he brought the flat of the double-edged blade against the snout of his adversary.
The beast hissed in pain but did not back away.
Kaz struck the sensitive snout again and again.
Howling, the reptilian monster stumbled back. Kaz shifted the axe to drive the deadly blades into the monster’s head, but the beast suddenly sprang backward. It stopped, looked around, as if it had heard a call. Then, without warning, the creature turned and leapt for the safety of the woods. The minotaur started to pursue, but the monster’s tail struck him in the side like a whip. It was all Kaz could do to maintain his hold on his weapon. Through pain-blurred eyes, he watched the shadowy thing vanish into the safety of the night-shrouded woods.
It was several heartbeats before the pain became bearable. Kaz’s wounds continued to sting, but a quick check revealed that he had been fortunate. The jagged wounds were shallow.
“What was that all about?” Kaz muttered. He had been stalked and assaulted, but then his attacker fled before the battle had really been joined. A bloody nose shouldn’t have been enough to make that thing run off.... What was it after?
The minotaur snorted in annoyance. In the early days, before Huma had taught Kaz patience, he would have sought out something to batter with his heavy fists. Now he could only clench his fists in frustration. He had ridden here in the hopes of finding solitude, sanctuary. He had sought out this forest and the nearby mountains because few creatures of the intelligent races were said to dwell in this region. Kaz was not a hermit, but it was good to be able to rest and reflect now and then, even when one was a warrior born.
The monster had ruined Kaz’s peace. Now he would have to spend the next several days pondering its abrupt appearance, while constantly looking over his shoulder.
Snorting, he turned to see to his horse.
The horse was gone, spooked by the monster. Kaz felt around the tree and discovered the tattered remnants of the tether.
“The gods are out to get me!” the minotaur snarled. There was no time to tend his own wounds. He had to begin searching for his horse immediately. Every second meant less chance of recovering the animal, and without Tempest, he would be faced with a long, hard journey.
His campfire had gone out while he slumbered, and there was no swift way of starting a new one. Kaz decided to forego a torch and hope that his night sight and hearing would be up to the task.
As he moved, Kaz made clicking sounds with his mouth. If the horse was near, it would recognize them. Knights of Solamnia often trained their horses to respond to a whistle, but minotaurs’ mouths were not designed for creating such sounds.
He was climbing a squat hill in the predawn light, when he heard something on the other side. Kaz cautiously completed the climb and peered down.
Something moved among the trees beyond the hill.
Unable to tell whether or not it was his horse, Kaz readied his battle-axe and started down the slope. His wounds continued to burn, but he ignored them. He had ignored worse ones during the war. As he reached the bottom, Kaz caught another glimpse of something, but it was still too far away and too obscured by foliage to be identifiable.
Picking up his pace, he darted among the trees. At last, Kaz caught a better glimpse. He exhaled in relief. His mount. The animal was glad to see him, seemed to wonder where he’d been.
Putting his annoyance aside, Kaz called out. The horse trotted toward him. Kaz replaced his battle-axe in the harness he wore on his back. He was pleased to note that his packs were secure and that the horse was uninjured. The horse rubbed its nose in Kaz’s shoulder and sniffed him. Kaz took the reins, which dangled loosely over the horse’s neck, and patted the animal on the side. “Brave war-horse, aren’t you now? They told me that you’d face up to just about anything! Ha! Still, I can’t blame you for running from that hellish creature, but the least you could’ve done was take me with you!”
A sense of dread suddenly washed over Kaz. He looked swiftly around, but saw nothing. It was the silence again. The same eerie silence that had fallen when he was attacked by the monster. Still scanning the area, Kaz mounted his horse. He had a great desire to be far away from here.
“I must have monsters on the brain,” he muttered. Was this what it was going to be like now that he did not have the war to occupy his every moment? Jumping at every sound – or lack of sound. Imagining foes behind every tree and rock?
“Let’s go!” he growled at his horse.
The animal trotted a few steps, then came to a halt.
Kaz prodded the animal again. He truly wanted to get away from this place. “What’s the matter with you, Tempest? Get moving!”
This time, the animal began to plod along; the pace it set was so slow that Kaz began to wonder if he would make better time carrying Tempest instead of the horse carrying him.
The wind began to pick up, tossing dead leaves about. Clouds were gathering in the sky in what might be the precursor of a storm. “Sargas take you, beast!” Kaz kicked the horse’s flanks. “Move, I said!”
Unbelievably, the horse began to slow its pace.
Black clouds swirled. The wind was a howling fiend that tossed leaves and broken foliage around the horse and rider. Kaz shielded his eyes against the stinging dust and began debating the possibility of stopping where he was and seeking shelter.
As if reading his thoughts, Tempest abruptly halted. Kaz tried to urge the beast on again, but it stood fast. Furious, Kaz started to dismount, thinking perhaps he could lead the animal.
The wind buffeted him back onto the saddle.
He tried again to dismount.
Once more, the horrendous wind seemed to hold him fixed in place.
“By Paladine’s blade! I’ll not be bested by air!” The minotaur let go of the reins and tried throwing himself off his mount.
>
A wall of wind tossed him back.
Then, it was as if a tornado had sprung to mad life. Wildly tumbling leaves and twigs cut visibility to a foot or two beyond the horse’s nose. No matter which direction he looked, all Kaz saw were leaves.
No, not all directions. Gazing up, he noted that the air was inexplicably clear a few feet above his head. With the exception of the clouds that had gathered directly overhead, the sky was sunny and bright. All around him the forest was peaceful, yet Kaz himself was caught up in a veritable maelstrom.
Instinctively, he reached for his weapon, though what he would do with it was beyond him. Kaz was a born warrior and understood nothing about the workings of magic, but he knew its malevolent touch when he saw it. He also had the sinking feeling that finding Tempest had not been the good fortune he had assumed, but rather the lure with which the unknown mage had drawn him into a trap.
Paladine, Kaz prayed, if you still watch over me – assuming you ever have – I could use your help about now!
The whirlwind started to close in around the minotaur. Now, only a few inches separated horse and rider from the thickening wall of dead foliage.
A leaf struck the side of the minotaur’s snout and stuck there. Kaz reached up to tear the leaf away, but – to his bewilderment – it remained fixed to him. A second leaf caught on his hand, and when the minotaur tried to shake it free, that leaf, too, clung.
Kaz’s legs and torso were already dotted with leaves, none of which would shake loose. His horse was nearly half buried under a growing skin of foliage, but, unlike Kaz, Tempest showed no concern. The animal did not move at all, seeming to accept its fate.
Not so the minotaur. Snarling, he tried to shield himself with his leaf-encrusted axe, but the barrage was too great. Leaves blew over, under, and around him, sticking on his face and arms, clinging like blood leeches to his skin.
“Blast you, mage!” he roared, covering his mouth in order to prevent suffocation. “Come and face me! Fight me as a warrior, not a coward who must hide behind cursed tricks!”
No one responded. He had not truly expected anyone to do so. Mages were, in his opinion, conniving milksops who worked from shadows or anywhere far from danger.
The onslaught continued. Leaves almost completely buried him alive. His snout was already covered, and leaves complete obscured vision in one eye and partially in the other. It was nearly impossible to move. He was forced to breathe through his mouth.
Round and round the wind blew, adding leaf after leaf to the pile. The minotaur was near to suffocating. He struggled desperately to clear the leaves from his nose and mouth, but he couldn’t lift his leaf-coated arm more than an inch or two. Kaz began to choke....
“Kiri-Jolith, god of just cause, is this any way for a warrior to die?” Kaz demanded in helpless fury.
If there was an answer, he did not remain conscious long enough to hear it.
*
“Amazing – the things one finds in one’s nets,” a voice said in the darkness. “I was expecting to catch a knight, not a minotaur. When I captured the horse, I assumed its rider would be human. Silly of me.”
Kaz stirred and slowly noted that while he could neither see nor move, he was most certainly alive.
“Ah. Awake at last. Feeling better?”
The groggy minotaur forced his eyelids open a slight crack. What little he could see was blurry, but at least it was not leaves. He had the vague impression of a robed figure standing almost below him. Nothing else was clear enough to even guess at.
“What are you doing in these parts, so far from your kind, my solitary minotaur? You’d best answer me before I lose my temper and feed you to my other guest.”
Feed me to it? Kaz opened his eyes wide.
He was in a magical prison, a clear bubble floating several feet above the floor. Although delicate in appearance, the bubble held firm when he pressed his hands against it. Kaz snorted and gaped. His weapons were gone.
“Really a simple sort of spell, my bovine friend. Nothing so spectacular,” said the voice. Yet, there was a touch of pride in the tone.
Kaz glared down at his captor. He wore the familiar ebony garments of the dark mages, or Black Robes as the evil magic-users were called. The mage was tall for a human, almost as tall as the minotaur, but so gangly as to make a scarecrow look fat. His face looked as if someone had wrapped a bandage of skin around the skull. Long, flowing gray hair hung to his waist.
Kaz searched nervously for the “hungry” guest. He was imprisoned in a cavern chamber, one that had apparently been hollowed out by some force other than nature. The walls and ceiling were smooth. A curious blue sphere floating above his gaunt host illuminated the chamber.
Shelves lined the cave walls, shelves filled with scrolls, books, and artifacts that even Kaz, who had no sense of magic, could tell were powerful talismans.
Below his floating cell, a pattern had been etched into the center of the floor. A series of triangles and pentagrams were bound together by an overlapping circle, nearly twice Kaz’s height in diameter. Directly below Kaz, a small metal stand with a top resembling a hollowed-out gourd stood in the circle’s center.
Kaz breathed easier. No sign at all of the hungry “guest.”
The mage had been silent during his captive’s inspection, but now he spoke again. “What is your name, minotaur?”
“I am Kaz.”
“And I am Master Mage Brenn.” The spindly figure bowed sardonically. “You are much too far south and west for one of your kind, my horned friend. I ask again – what are you doing here?”
Kaz thought quickly. Brenn must not have bothered to inspect Kaz’s gear closely. He had obviously missed the hidden compartment containing the Solamnic documents and medallion. Good – a Black Robe would not be friendly toward a friend of the Knights of Solamnia.
“I’ve been on the run since the Lady fell, Master Brenn.” Kaz answered boldly. “The minotaur army was scattered, the forces of Paladine blocked my way back. I killed a knight, stole his horse, and fled south.”
“Why did you not fight to the death like a good cow?”
Kaz growled, barely succeeding in keeping his temper in check. Such an insult would have had the mage’s head rolling from his shoulders if Kaz and his axe had been free.
“The cause was lost,” he said. “The battle was over. I thought it preferable to preserve myself for the day when my skills can be put to better use.”
Brenn smiled. “You have a finer head on your shoulders than most of your kind.”
The magic-user snapped his fingers. Kaz found himself standing on the rocky floor. He glanced up. His magical prison had vanished. All that remained was the pattern on the floor, the stand, and, of course, the Black Robe.
“As it happens, Kaz the Minotaur, you have come to the right place. I will have need of your skills before long.”
“Where is this right place, Master Brenn?” Kaz demanded.
“You are in the mountains near where I found you,” Brenn replied. “You are fortunate, my horned friend. Had you been a knight – as I first presumed – you would be dead. I am too close to success to allow my secrets to be discovered.”
The gaunt mage paused. “Tell me, minotaur, did you see anything... unusual... in the forest?”
“What did you have in mind, Master Brenn?”
Brenn frowned, irritated. “You would know what I meant if you had seen it.”
Kaz was certain that the Black Robe meant the monster, but he elected not to share the details of his encounter with his host. What Brenn did not know might benefit the minotaur. Did the mage have something to do with the monster? If so, what? And where was it? Kaz was debating the danger of probing for more information when a mournful wail echoed throughout the mage’s sanctum. The sound reminded Kaz of a woman sobbing, but at the same time he knew that it was not human. It was unnerving, terrible, and extraordinarily sad.
Brenn, quite calm, nodded at the sound and cryptically said, “
She’s awake. She should be more manageable, by now.”
“She?” the minotaur rumbled.
“Come. I will show you.” Brenn started toward the cavern’s entrance. Abruptly, he turned. He studied the minotaur, then commanded, “Hold out your hands.”
Kaz obeyed.
Suddenly he was holding his lost axe.
“You will feel more comfortable with that in your possession. Do try to be careful with it.”
The mage turned his back on the minotaur and resumed walking. Kaz hefted the weapon, thinking briefly of parting the mage’s long gray hair. Kaz knew better than to attack, however. If Brenn had given the axe back, it could only be because he had no fear of it.
Things were not looking promising.
The glowing sphere flew ahead of them, lighting the way. Kaz followed the gangly magic-user through a maze of tunnels that led from one cavern chamber to another, until they came to one larger than all the rest.
Brenn paused at the entrance, one hand on the rocky wall, and turned to the minotaur. “I think perhaps it would be best if you stayed in the background. She becomes distraught at the slightest thing. I will speak to her in private.” His eyes narrowed a bit. “Don’t wander off.”
With that warning, Brenn entered the chamber, the blue light following him. Kaz was more than satisfied to be left behind, but he was also interested in a glimpse of the Black Robe’s other “guest.” Standing to the side of the entrance, the burly minotaur peered into the cavern.
“There, there, my dear!” Brenn called out. “I think things will look brighter from this point on, would you not agree?”
A huge reptilian head rose from the cavern floor. The gleaming eyes of a silver dragon stared at Brenn. Kaz had never seen such open hatred and revulsion in all his life.
“I want... my children, you vile... vile monster!” the silver dragon cried in a low, anguished voice.
There were no dragons left in Krynn. They had all vanished soon after the defeat in battle of dread Takhisis by the knight Huma. All dragons, whether followers of the Dark Lady or servants of shining Paladine – her victorious foe – had departed from the world.