Book Read Free

Land of the minotaurs lh-4

Page 8

by Richard A. Knaak


  Kaz avoided the towns and villages at nights, opting for wooded lands that hid them from view of the roads. He kept their fires low, enabling them to pass unnoticed. In order to keep his companion entertained, since a bored kender was an especially worrisome creature, Kaz again told him stories and history whenever possible. More than a few of the tales he told so mixed legend with fact that not even he was certain what was true and what had been inflated by earlier storytellers.

  He told Delbin about the minotaurs' supposed enslavement by the dwarves of Kal-Thax. The dwarves had kept Kaz's race slaves for years, according to legend, until the minotaurs finally overthrew and destroyed them. Other races often discounted this version of events. Among the legends of that time was one about a minotaur, Belim, who killed a dozen dwarves and freed enough of his fellows to begin the final revolt before he himself went down under the axes of half a dozen more dwarven warriors. Such acts of heroism were grist for the favorite stories of Kaz's people.

  However, the kender's favorites, perhaps because of the emotion with which Kaz recounted them, involved Ganth, captain of Gladiator. On Kaz's first voyage, he had sailed with Ganth and Kyri and visited an island that seemed all golden. It was not real gold, which had proved a disappointment, but the voyage itself made everything worthwhile. What Delbin found especially exciting was an earlier adventure of Ganth, when he and his vessel, on one of its first journeys, had approached a mysterious island of giant snakes and great birds. Here Ganth and Kyri had supposedly met Sargas and his daughter, the tempestuous sea goddess Zeboim. Sargas had not wanted to let any of the minotaurs leave the mysterious island, but Kiri-Jolith had intervened and Ganth had killed a giant bird while battling to escape. He and Kyri had married shortly after. Ganth had claimed the episode as the main reason why he had rejected the Great Horned One and become a follower of Kiri-Jolith.

  "They had children soon after that adventure. I was their firstborn," Kaz concluded proudly.

  "What were they like?"

  "Ganth was a bit of a renegade, someone who always argued against the established way things were done." Kaz chuckled. "Which is where I get my rebellious nature from, I guess. Kyri was more typical, a good partner in battle. Of course, she chose to make Ganth her comrade for life, so I guess she was a bit of a renegade, too. They raised us well, kept us fit, cherished us." The minotaur stared off into the distance. "When Gladiator sank, I mourned them well."

  "Oh." Delbin looked down, momentarily dejected. Then he looked up again, brightening. "But you said 'us.' Did they have more than you? You never told me you had brothers and sisters!"

  "There were six of us. Four males and two females." Kaz hesitated, not having thought about his siblings in years. Since he had broken away from his people, he had not contacted anyone from his past, neither friend nor relative.

  "Will we meet up with any of them?"

  Kaz drifted off. "I don't know… not Raud… he's…" He lowered his hand, touching the pouch that still held the medallion. "Not Raud."

  "Who's-"

  "It's late." Suddenly rising, Kaz began to gather things together. "We've got more traveling to do. We'll both walk. You'll have to wear the rope again, Delbin. I'm sorry."

  The small figure silently obeyed, sensing that Kaz did not wish to speak more about his family. There were some memories too painful to recollect even after years.

  I was afraid you'd pop up in my mind if I came back, Raud, Kaz admitted silently to himself. I was afraid you would haunt me again.

  It would have happened regardless of whether or not Delbin had asked him about his family. Nethosak was where he and Raud had last met. Nethosak was where one critical decision had forever changed Kaz's life.

  It was where Raud had died.

  Far off in the heart of Nethosak, death was also on the minds of two weary minotaurs now awaiting an audience with the high priest. They had ridden like the wind after the final debacle, leaving behind the last of the ogres, who was likely dead by now from the loss of its limb. The other ogre had deserted one night and fled back to its own kind, not wishing to face the high priest's wrath. In their hearts, the minotaurs knew they faced punishment for their absolute failure, but pride, so ingrained in most of their kind, had prevented them from simply never returning to the imperial capital. Now they were both regretting the tug of that pride.

  The antechamber in which they waited did little to ease their minds. Tapestries depicting the glory of Sargas, especially his punishment of those who had strayed from the path, lined the walls between high marble columns. Carved on each of the columns was the face of Sargas in his manifestation as the Great Horned One. The faces were all set so that they peered down in judgment at those standing before the entrance to the high priest's sanctum.

  The huge iron doors swung open, and a solemn acolyte clad in the red-and-black robes of his calling stepped out to face the pair. "His Holiness will see you now. You will speak only when spoken to and answer all questions completely. Is that absolutely understood?"

  Knowing that there was no room for argument, the two minotaurs nodded. The acolyte turned to face the open doorway. "Follow me."

  With growing trepidation, they did, one of them pausing only long enough to stare at the huge relief above the doorway. The carving, a great dragon, seemed to stare hungrily down at anyone who walked beneath it. The minotaur shivered,' then hurried to keep pace.

  The room they entered was the size of a small arena and surprisingly lacking in decor. There were no windows, and the only illumination came from two torches a few yards ahead of them, one on each side of the vast chamber. The ceiling, what they could see of it, loomed high above, adding to the newcomers' sense of inadequacy. Here they were nothing but cogs in the grand scheme of Sargas, small parts that could, if necessary, be easily replaced.

  "Come forward."

  The voice was strong, commanding, and echoed throughout the chamber. The acolyte stepped aside, indicating that the two should proceed alone.

  They had taken no more than three or four steps when high flames rushed from each side, abruptly illuminating the chamber. A row of bright, suddenly flaring torches led to a wide dais more than twice the height of either minotaur. At the top of the dais sat a great stone desk, the front of which also bore the face of Sargas on it.

  Behind the desk, quill in one hand, rested the High Priest of the State. His hood and robe were much like the acolyte's, but decorated with a trim of gold along the hood and cuffs and down the front. Beneath the hood was a thin, studious face, one more appropriate for clerical work than the rigors of battle.

  Neither of the pair felt any comfort about that. Everyone knew the high priest's brutal power.

  "We are not to be disturbed," the high priest commanded the acolyte.

  "Yes, Your Holiness." The acolyte bowed, withdrawing. A moment later, the doors closed, leaving the two newcomers alone with the high priest.

  "You were given a task."

  It took them a moment to realize that one of them was supposed to respond. The taller of the two nodded, then quickly added, "Yes, Your Holiness!"

  "Your name?"

  "Tosher, Your Holiness. This is Cinmac." At mention of his name, the other minotaur raised a heavily bandaged hand in solemn greeting. Blood had turned most of the bandage red.

  The quill did not move. "Where are the others?"

  Tosher swallowed, unable to answer. Cinmac finally grunted, "Dead, Your Holiness."

  "All of them."

  "Yes, Your Holiness… except an ogre that ran off."

  At last finding his voice again, Tosher blurted, "They came from all around us, Your Holiness! We were outnumbered, and those damned ogres panicked! We would've been slaughtered. We-"

  "Silence." The high priest stared at both minotaurs. "It was not that way, was it, Cinmac?"

  "No, Your Holiness." Cinmac clutched his wounded hand. "I can't explain it. He was everywhere. It was as if he knew we were coming. I never saw one warrior so effective."
/>
  "And what of the item I supplied you with? Why did you not take him with that? Who decided to avoid its use? Tell me."

  The injured minotaur glanced at his partner before replying. "It didn't seem right. Not magic. We're warriors! We know swords and axes, not magical talismans!" Cinmac silently cursed himself for volunteering for the mission, but then, he had thought the favor of the high priest would be invaluable. What he and the others had forgotten was that the disfavor of the high priest was worse to fear. "The blasted ogres surrounded him with the nets, and then we closed in. Don't know what happened next. Some of the ogres just never followed through."

  "The magic talisman…"

  Tosher snorted. "I used it in the end, but he was still too tricky! I made the trees grab him, but he climbed over them and jumped me. He knocked the piece out of my hand. The trees didn't seem to care who was in their way. They nearly got me by mistake. They probably got him."

  The quill came down hard on the desk. Tosher and Cinmac both stared as it snapped and the tip went flying. The high priest glared at Tosher. "That had better not be the case. I want him alive… at this point. You two have bungled things far more than I could have imagined possible."

  With Tosher silent again, Cinmac tried to explain their failure. "He's a champion of the arenas, Your Holiness. You said so yourself. I've never fought a warrior like that. Give us more soldiers, though, minotaurs-not those untrustworthy ogres-and we'll capture him this time. He's got only a"-the warrior shook his head in disbelief-"a kender to help him."

  Tosher snorted. "What sort of minotaur is that who'd have one of those little buggers around?"

  "An interesting minotaur," the high priest unexpectedly replied. "An interesting one."

  "We'll sneak up on them in the night," Cinmac added, "but quieter this time. You still want him alive so-"

  "Most definitely." An edge of menace tinged the cleric's words.

  "Well, so this time it'll be different, especially now that we know what to expect. You take that axe, for example! It had to be magic, too! I'll swear by Sargas himself that he didn't have an axe when he appeared, but did just before he cut down one of the ogres!"

  "Aye!" dared Tosher again, caught up in the story. "Out of thin air it came, Holiness! An axe that gleamed even in the night!"

  "Did it now? Most interesting." The high priest scratched the underside of his muzzle. "Enough talk from both of you. Even with this axe, I still find it astonishing that one warrior sent both of you fleeing. Is this the way of the warrior as you were taught? I think not. You fled from battle when you should have been willing to die on your feet."

  Neither of the figures before the high priest dared to utter another word. They knew that what he said was truth. Even Cinmac's terrible wound was not excuse enough.

  "I sent you to find one minotaur, one whose presence I require, but whom I do not want others in the kingdom to see again. You cannot track him even though I tell you where he lives, and then you let this one warrior… one warrior!.. lay waste to your ranks as though you were children just beginning to learn to walk." The high priest rose. He was taller than either of his minions, albeit slighter in build. His eyes burned down at the pair. "You have failed me. That is the sum of all your excuses. Even with magic of your own, which I reluctantly decided you needed, you failed miserably."

  "It was that axe! He had better magic!" insisted Tosher. "We would've had him if he hadn't had the axe! We didn't know we'd be facing that!"

  "I grant that, at least. My sources were remiss. You did not know about the magic axe." Reaching up, the narrow figure pulled back his hood. "That does not excuse your failure. As things stand, Kaziganthi de-Orilg will no doubt make his way into the empire and thereafter make known his presence to others." He shook his head. "This makes my work far more complicated than it should have been. There is no room in my empire for such ineptitude as you two have exhibited." The high priest's eyes flared. "No room at all…"

  A bell summoned the acolyte to the high priest's chambers only moments later. He entered the sanctum of his master, but paused just inside the door. The high priest sat at his desk, hand on chin in contemplation. Of the two hunters who had been waiting, there was no immediate sign.

  "Come forward."

  The acolyte obeyed, but as he stepped toward the dais, his foot kicked something. He glanced down and saw that it was a hand, half-wrapped in bloody bandages. Nearby was what looked like a foot and the hilt of a sword. The rest of the body was missing.

  Trying to ignore the grisly sight, the acolyte stepped past it, then knelt before his master and awaited his command.

  "There is a Captain Scurn of the State Guard. Send for him. I have questions I would ask that I believe he might be able to answer."

  "Yes, Holiness."

  "And remove that refuse on your way out."

  The acolyte rose and obeyed. The high priest watched, then, when the acolyte had departed, went back to his contemplations.

  "I have waited too long," he muttered. "I have waited too long to be delayed by one fool of a minotaur. When you return to my empire, Kaziganthi, you will have a choice. Join my grand plan… or be buried by it."

  Chapter 6

  A Surprise Reunion

  Nethosak.

  Kaz found himself at its great walls so soon after passing its counterpart to the south that he almost wondered if the twin kingdoms had moved closer in his absence. He knew that the populations of Mithas and Kothas had multiplied and that Nethosak, as the seat of power, had grown even faster, though it was hard to believe that so much growth had occurred in the short time since the war. Even for a people as driven as his own, the changes were astounding.

  Delbin was utterly fascinated by the city, so much so that he tended to forget that he was supposed to be a slave. Delbin's supposed status as slave made it impossible for the kender to ask all of the questions flitting through his head, so Kaz tried to anticipate some of them to prevent Delbin from blurting everything out.

  "See that building far over there… toward the center, slave?" Kaz asked, pointing at a tall structure with an arched roof. "That's the emperor's palace. Looks a lot like these buildings flanking us only much larger. These are houses of the lesser clans. The great clans are more to the north end of the city, though they've got a lot of influence down here, too." Kaz then pointed out the temple of the state priesthood and the plain, boxlike building that was the quarters of the Supreme Circle. Kaz explained what each of the two groups was, then concluded, "Know them well, slave, for they decide life and death for all and are to be respected, especially by your inferior kind. It'll be they, under the emperor, who decide the fates of all others when we come to rule this world."

  The rhetoric sounded hollow to Kaz, but he knew how much most of the minotaurs eavesdropping on them believed in it. Such notions were implanted in minotaur minds at an early age, and while those notions did not always sit well with a few, most of his people were well-indoctrinated through the efforts of the priesthood and the circle.

  They passed through an area consisting of a number of the functional but hardly appealing domiciles in which the lowest-ranking minotaurs lived. The air was ripe here, and the structures, while not as decrepit as such neighborhoods in a human city, were dirty and needed repair. Only the streets, whose conditions were monitored by the government, were typical of the order and tidiness for which his race was famed.

  As he rode slowly through the well-kept streets into more respectable and pristine sectors, Kaz experienced an involuntary shiver. He was not frightened, but being here unsettled him. Memories of his family, his years in the arena, his combat training, and battles as a slave-soldier serving the likes of ogres and dishonorable humans, all washed over him at once. Now and then, Kaz felt certain that he saw a face he recognized, but he never once stopped to talk to anyone. Someone was bound to notice him before long, but until that happened, he preferred to keep his anonymity.

  He debated whether or not to go straigh
t to the great clan house of Orilg and present himself, but in the end decided to delay. Having more or less severed his ties with the clan meant he should make his base at an inn, one that would tolerate his kender "slave."

  A small figure darted past his horse, and Kaz's first thought was that Delbin was running amok in the city. Then he saw that the small figure was squat and dirty, a gully dwarf with a collar, a true slave.

  It was all he could do to refrain from showing his disgust. If the minotaurs were using gully dwarves to pick up trash, then a kender trained to care for his horse and belongings would almost seem a logical progression-or illogical, Kaz thought wryly.

  The buildings grew neater and more stylish as he rode, a sign that they were owned by high-ranking minotaurs. The nearer to the circus and the emperor's palace, the better the quality of life in Nethosak. North of the circus were the major land holdings of the great houses and the clans considered among the most powerful in the kingdom… as well as the entire empire. Everyone worked to achieve movement in a northerly direction. Even the lesser clans, whose houses lay in the southern sector, coveted those in the northern neighborhoods. Orilg was one of the first, oldest, and largest clans to have built its domain north of the circus.

  The eastern part of the city was near the harbor. After riding through crowded streets for nearly half an hour, then turning and riding east for an equal time, Kaz came across an area of Nethosak that he expected would suit his needs. An inn with the colorful title "The Bloody Axe" seemed the best choice. It was out of the way and looked like the type of place that would respect his privacy… for a price.

  As Kaz dismounted, Delbin, who had been a true stalwart for hours, quietly asked, "Kaz, what's that?"

  The minotaur glanced in the direction the kender was pointing and snorted bitterly. The huge arena that caught Delbin's attention was unmistakable even from a distance. "The Great Circus, the arena where important matters of justice"-he said the last word with distaste, knowing how its definition had changed-"and honor are settled. All grievances and crimes are settled by combat, and the greatest of these takes place each day in the circus." He looked around apprehensively, but no one was paying attention to him and his companion. "Now please be quiet, Delbin. You're supposed to be a slave. Your life very much depends on it."

 

‹ Prev