by Dragon Lance
Kaz did not let up. He struck again, this time in the stomach, then swung again at Angrus’s chin.
Angrus crumpled as easily as he had those many years before.
Behind Kaz, another body hit the street. He turned and saw the last of the trio lying on his side, groaning. The other minotaur towered over his fallen foe, but his back was turned, making it impossible for Kaz to identify his savior.
“You did it, Kaz!” The kender gave him a quick hug of congratulations. “I thought they had you until he came along, but all you needed was a little help. And I was the first to pitch in.”
“Thank you for trying to defend me, Delbin,” Kaz said, interrupting before the kender could begin a much too lengthy rendition of the struggle. “You should’ve run off, though. They would’ve killed you. You understand that?”
The kender quieted. “Yes, Kaz.”
“Now that’s something I’d never thought I’d have heard from you, Lad. Not as wild and proud as you once were.”
Again the voice was familiar, but Kaz could not place it. He looked up and studied the face of the minotaur who had rescued him. It was older than his by many years. He could see that years at sea had weather-worn his features, though his eyes were still lively. In his prime the older minotaur would have had the form of a champion, and Kaz could only hope he would look as strong should he be fortunate enough to live to such an age.
“I thought it was you, Lad, but I could scarcely believe my luck. Have I changed so much you don’t recognize me? I suppose a few years lost at sea did make some changes.”
Lost at sea? Now that he looked closer at his rescuer, the features looked really familiar. If he removed several of the lines on the face, darkened the fur, which was partially gray by now, and managed to straighten the back a little …
“Paladine’s sword!”
“Not a name I’d go shouting, Lad,” warned the other. “The sons of Sargas don’t take kindly to competition. They don’t even like putting up with Kiri-Jolith … something they still seem to blame on me.”
It was impossible for Kaz to believe that the figure before him was still alive. Few ever escaped the raging sea, but if anyone could have … “Father?”
“That’s exactly what your brothers and sisters said, in the same tone yet.” The older minotaur cracked a smile. “Aye, Ganth’s back. The sea goddess hasn’t got me just yet.” The smile faded as he added, “But she took your mother willingly enough.”
“Father?” Kaz repeated, unable to think of any other word to say.
“And I’ll still be your father if you say it a third time, Lad. Now snap to and come with me. You and I have a few things to talk about, including a mutual friend who’s in a lot of trouble for reasons I don’t like to bandy about.”
Delbin peered around Kaz, for the first time drawing the older minotaur’s attention. “He’s the one who was watching you before, Kaz!”
The graying mariner shook his head. “And we’ll have to do something about this little one. By the beard of Kiri-Jolith, Son, you always found the most troublesome companions, you did.” He took Kaz by the arm. “Come with me. I know as good a hiding place as any.”
Still quite numb at the sudden reunion with his father, who wasn’t dead after all, Kaz allowed the elder minotaur to guide him away. Ganth led them from the area, winding through the streets of Nethosak with a determination that finally stirred Kaz from his stupor. This was indeed his father, the famed mariner and explorer. Older, yes, and with a slight limp, but not much off his prime. Somehow he had survived Gladiator’s destruction.
Except … only Ganth had returned, not Kyri as well.
“Here we are.” Kaz’s father brought them before a small dwelling. It was one of Clan Orilg’s holdings, if the markings were to be credited. Orilg, being one of the major houses, had influence in all parts of the empire, but especially in the major cities of Nethosak and Morthosak. The major houses had holdings in various city sectors, places where business was transacted and members of the clan could retire when matters demanded.
We’re more like humans than we think, Kaz mused, thanks to the years under the warlords’ rule. The humans had impressed their values and interests on their slave-soldiers. Now, the drive for influence and profit was almost as great as the drive for war.
Two minotaurs flanked the entrance. Kaz recognized neither, but as young as the two warriors appeared, it was possible he had known them as children.
Neither said a word as Ganth and the others entered, though one warrior glanced skeptically at Delbin. Kaz and the kender were led through a short corridor to an antechamber.
“You’re in need of some food, aren’t you, lads?” When Kaz nodded, Ganth smiled and led them in a different direction. “Then it’s the kitchen for us.”
Kaz found himself smiling also. At times Ganth had been even less inclined to the ways of their people than he was. During the long years of enslavement to Crynus and the ogres, he had dared to protest the way his children were more or less taken from their parents so that they could be “properly” trained by approved minotaurs. For two years after, Gladiator had been sent on a deadly voyage. Another time, Ganth and his crew had actually been stripped of their vessel and put into ranks marching westward during the second great campaign toward Solamnia. Somehow, Ganth had persevered and recovered Gladiator again, only to be sent on another mission of great danger.
Now Gladiator was lost, along with Kyri, his mate.
“Dastrun gave me this ‘prestigious’ post when they brought me and three other survivors back two years ago.” Ganth snorted as he led the pair to a simple bench and table. “Should be something left to eat here.” He banged his fist on the table. Moments later a young female, lithe and tawny, stepped out. Ganth did not wait for her to speak. “Give me whatever you can rustle up, lass, then you can go back to listening behind the door.”
She gave him a disdainful look, but obeyed his commands. Her eyes lingered on the kender as she worked, and it was not until she vanished through the doorway again that Kaz felt comfortable.
“Dastrun’s patriarch of the clan now,” Ganth commented as he tore apart a piece of dry bread. “Master Hestrith died a year ago, but Dastrun was running things before that, I’ve heard. When Hestrith passed away, the emperor stepped in and said that, due to the course our people were taking, it was necessary for him to appoint a patriarch with the vitality and dedication needed to help see that course to the end. The high priest and the circle sanctioned the appointment, and that was that.”
“The emperor chose Dastrun? As our new patriarch?” As with the emperor, the patriarch of the clan – who could also be a matriarch should a female achieve the position – was chosen by rite of combat. A council of elders in the clan usually approved any such match. Emperors had never dared interfere with such important clan matters.
“The high priest and the circle sanctioned it. That was that. No one protested. They were too shocked, I think.”
Dastrun was a cousin of Ganth’s. Dastrun and his ilk were more supportive of the emperor and the Supreme Circle than Ganth and his family had ever been. Many years ago, Hestrith had hinted that he would have preferred giving up his position to one of Ganth’s line, but after Kaz and his father had disappeared, it was inevitable that Dastrun would succeed the patriarch. Dastrun was a clan champion whose ranking was exceeded only by that achieved by Kaz. His claim to the leadership of the clan was legitimate, but there should have been more debate and the ritual of combat. That was how it was done.
Kaz had a twinge of guilt that he was partly responsible. His staying away had helped put Clan Orilg in his distant cousin’s grip. The deadly politics that had developed in the empire since the influence of the Dark Queen’s minions was one of the reasons why he had stayed away. Instead of achieving their status through honor and strength, too many like Dastrun had reached it through guile and deceit.
“You’re staring off into the sea, Lad. You’ve changed. You were al
ways more willing to jump into the fray. What happened?”
It should have been Kaz asking questions. He wanted to know what Ganth had been doing all these years and how he had survived at all. Yet, instead he related his own story, beginning with his battle with his ogre captain, his meeting with Huma, and the change in his life caused by the legendary knight. Delbin had heard most of it many times before, but he still listened, enraptured. Ganth was silent, save for the occasional grunt.
When Kaz was done, his father finally unleashed a startling roar of laughter so loud it might have been heard all the way to Morthosak. “You’ve led a quiet life, haven’t you? By the Just One’s Horns, Kaz! You make me proud of you! I wish I could have seen all of that, or at least met this knight! He sounds like a warrior true, not like these puppets who now command our people.”
“Huma was the greatest warrior, man or minotaur, that I have ever known.”
Ganth ceased laughing. His eyes narrowed, and, in a more serious tone, he added, “I see. Then I truly wish I had met him. There are few such warriors these days, if I’m any judge.”
“Father, about you —”
“Forget me for now, Kaz. I spent several years on an island with half a dozen others, the remainder of a good crew. Some of them perished there, but I and a couple of others survived … not that it seemed to matter much with your mother gone. I kept thinking about the bunch of you, though, and that kept me going. That’s all you need to know, Kaz. You and the rest of our young kept me going … and now I’m glad I survived, because I can see that I was never meant to fight the final battle at sea. There’s too great a battle going on right here in Nethosak.”
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you wonder, Lad, how I happen to be around just when you arrived?”
“I assumed it was by chance … but from the way you’re talking, I gather it was not.”
Ganth smiled grimly, revealing a good set of strong teeth. “I learned long ago that there’s little chance in the world. Sometimes I think some god, probably old Sargas himself, is still out to plague me.”
Kaz nodded, interested to find out that he and his sire thought similarly.
“No, I wasn’t there by chance. I’ve been watching for you for more than two weeks, ever since he was taken.” Ganth shook his head. His horns were even longer than Kaz’s, but years at sea had weathered the tips, making them rounder. “I thought I’d never see you again, and then I found out that Dastrun’s bunch has known where you were for the past couple years.”
While not completely surprised to hear that the clan had been keeping track of him, Kaz felt a growing unease. If Dastrun had been monitoring his movements, it was possibly because the new patriarch was keeping a wary eye on a potential rival. He supposed that as long as he had remained at the settlement Dastrun had not cared, but if the patriarch discovered that he was now in Nethosak, things might be more precarious.
“Should I be worried about that?”
“Probably not. Dastrun’s not going to undermine his already shaky position by acting against a clan member of your reputation, Lad. Not directly, anyway. You’ve made the clan proud of you even if it doesn’t always admit it. In fact, you’ve become something of a legend to more than just Orilg.”
“I could live without that.”
“Aye, I know that feeling well.” Ganth drank some wine, then tore off a piece of meat. Neither Kaz nor Delbin could keep pace with him. “I knew you’d come. One thing that hasn’t changed is that you’re loyal to your friends … deathly loyal sometimes. When they took him, I knew you’d be by before long. Of course, I’d have done the same thing.”
“Hecar?” Kaz forgot the food and drink. He rose and leaned forward, hopeful and anxious at the same time. “You’re talking about Hecar, aren’t you, Father?”
“The same Hecar whom we both knew. Aye, Kaz. Your friend and mine. A clan member, too, though Dastrun won’t help him, especially as there’s no real blood relation. He’s got to know about what’s happened, but against the high priest and the emperor he won’t do a blessed thing.”
“Where is he? Where is Hecar?”
“Sit yourself down, Lad. You’re squirming around like a dragon shark about to dine after a bloody sea battle. Not as patient as I thought, though I can’t blame you, really. Just give me a chance. You won’t be going anywhere tonight, anyway. Not there, at least.”
Kaz forced himself to calm down. “Where is he, Father?”
“They’ve got him in the circus, Lad, tried and convicted as a criminal.”
“The circus?” Kaz knew what that meant. As a criminal, Hecar would be given an opportunity to redeem his lost honor by facing impossible odds. He would fight to the death … his death. The odds against him would always be too great, but that was how it worked. If he died bravely, he redeemed not only himself, but the clan he had shamed. “I’ve got to get him out of there before it’s too late.”
“Before you do that, let me say something. He’s fought three combats already, Kaz. Think about it. Three.”
“Three —? That’s impossible!” Hecar was good, but not that good. Not under such conditions as the circus would have imposed.
“Three fights that a good warrior like Hecar could win, as difficult as the odds were.” Ganth scratched his chin as he eyed his son. “If I was a suspicious sort, Lad, I’d think they were giving him a fair chance of surviving. Put him in danger, but danger he can handle. That’s not how it works. They’re supposed to give him impossible odds so he can die heroically. Makes me think they really want him to live for some reason.”
“What purpose would that serve?”
“Just a thought,” Ganth replied, shrugging.
“We have to get him out of there, Father.” Kaz paused, “I have to get him out of there.”
“Hecar’s my friend, too, Kaz, not to mention a former crew member of mine. I don’t take kindly to my lads being mistreated, not by the enemy or the emperor, which is almost the same thing these days. We’ll get him out.” Ganth yawned. “But a good battle plan was never forged by slumbering fools. We should get some rest. Hecar’s not scheduled to fight again just yet. I’ve got some friends who know about these things, in case you’re wondering. We can figure out what to do tomorrow.”
Kaz agreed, despite the urge within him to go charging into the circus and kill everyone who stood in the way of rescuing Helati’s sibling. “Tomorrow, then.”
“You’ll stay here. I can find room for you and the … Delbin here. It’ll be safer than anywhere else, and it will save us time.”
“My things are at an inn.”
“Yes. Can’t you leave’em, Lad?”
“Most, but not my horse. It won’t take long. I’ll be back soon.” Kaz made to rise.
“I’ll send someone.”
“The horse won’t like that.” Only those whom Kaz introduced properly to the horse could get near the fierce steed without risk. Delbin was one of the few he could recall who had not had difficulty becoming acquainted with the massive Solamnic war-horse. “I’ll have to do it.”
“I’m going, too!” announced the kender, who had, up to this point, maintained yet another remarkable interlude of silence.
“No, you’re staying here. Your kind isn’t cared for much. I’ll stay with you.”
“I’m going with Kaz!” The kender folded his arms, eyeing his companion.
Kaz looked into those eyes and knew that, if he left the kender here, Delbin would somehow follow him just as he had in the mountains. “I’ll take him with me, Father. If I don’t, I can promise you he’ll find a way to slip away. Better I keep him under my wing for now.”
His companion smiled. Ganth grunted, but held his protest. After a moment’s consideration, he finally said, “Then I might as well go with you and help. Besides, we’ve still got a few things to talk about. You know, they’ll be watching Hecar more than the other prisoners, if only for what he did.”
“What was that? What do th
ey claim he did?”
The elder minotaur looked startled. “Didn’t I tell you? Hecar’s supposed to have killed a cleric … one of the high priest’s staff, yet!”
Chapter 7
THE HIGH PRIEST
Ganth’s words echoed through Kaz’s head as they made their may back to The Bloody Axe. Hecar had killed a ranking priest? That hardly sounded like Helati’s brother. Hecar was no murderous fool, forsaking all sense of honor to strike down one of the state clerics. True, Hecar had little love for them, but even he would not have attacked one without strong cause.
Ganth insisted there was evidence of the incident. Kaz assumed his mate’s brother had acted in self-defense. For some reason, they must have set on Hecar and tried to take him into custody. He had been warned about such happenings. Hecar might have resisted, knowing that his arrest was false, and in the struggle with the guard accidentally killed the cleric.
That made some sense, but did nothing to ease Kaz’s anxiety. A prisoner who was accused of such a monstrous crime would be heavily guarded. The high priest would want to make a prime example of Hecar … which made the fact that Hecar was still alive all the more puzzling.
Not for the first time did Kaz feel like an absolute stranger in the land that had given birth to him. Nothing made sense anymore.
Things had at least partially quieted in the neighborhood near The Bloody Axe. That suited Kaz; the less who noted his presence, the better. He was hoping he could get away before the nosy innkeeper spotted him.
“Do you have things up in your room?” asked Ganth.
“Yes, and it’ll make for less curiosity if I take everything. If I leave some things, they’ll wonder what I’m up to. Someone might start asking questions.”
“Then let me clear out your room while you take care of your mount. Just tell me where to find the stuff. I’ll leave a few coins for the proprietor so he doesn’t bark about your sudden departure.”