Land of the minotaurs lh-4

by Richard A. Knaak

  "I do know, but it's going to be a surprise. The emperor's own orders. Doesn't want you too prepared, I'd guess. He remembers you well."

  "I remember him, too."

  Molus studied his expression. "I'll just bet you do."

  "At least am I going to be allowed a weapon?"

  As they talked, guards had been busy preparing all three. Kaz was counting on the trio being taken up to the waiting area together. That had always been the habit in times past, and he was pleased to see that in typical minotaur fashion no one had bothered to fiddle with tradition. Had Hecar and Ganth been left behind, Kaz would have been hard pressed to devise an escape plan.

  "Aye, you'll be carrying a short sword."

  Short sword. That probably meant he was fighting another warrior. Kaz was glad to hear that. If so, he wouldn't have to worry about the unpredictability of animals. Gladiators, on the other hand, were quite predictable.

  Bracelets replaced the wall chains. Kaz and the others were then led out of the cell and down the corridor leading to the vast field of the arena. Vaguely familiar with the path from years ago, Kaz estimated the time the others would need to escape once they made it across the field. Four minutes, maybe five, to traverse the long corridor through the menagerie. That, of course, did not include any resistance they might meet, but the menagerie was generally guarded by only a pair of sentries and one or two handlers.

  Overconfidence. No one expected anyone to attempt such a bold escape. Minotaurs fought and died; they did not flee. He only hoped that Ganth and Hecar could get away in time.

  Cheers erupted from above them. The entire corridor shook with pounding feet. There must be a good combat going on. The better the combat, the greater the crowd reaction. Pounding feet was one way in which the spectators sounded their approval, and gaining the crowd's favor had turned many a combat.

  As they reached the holding area, a barred space from where they could watch the other duels, Kaz noted a familiar figure waiting for the prisoners: Scurn. In one hand he held an object that Kaz did not at first recognize. Only when the two stood almost face-to-face did Scurn reveal what it was he held.

  It was the medallion honoring the supreme champion, the same medallion he had taken from Kaz after the latter's capture.

  "I would've preferred to take this from you in combat," the scarred minotaur said.

  "You've got the medallion now. Just wear it."

  A dark expression covered Scum's mutilated features. "I would not dishonor it so. I never won it, so I can't wear it."

  It was odd to think that someone like Scurn could still think in terms of honor. Kaz was about to make a scathing reply when the other minotaur suddenly reached out and offered him the medallion.

  "Take it. It's still yours, won in combat in the circus. The high priest and Polik won't like it, but it's still your right to wear it. Even your crimes can't take that away from you, though your death will." He snorted. "I should be the one fighting you. This isn't right, to-"

  "Never mind about his combat," the older minotaur quickly snapped. He pointed at the medallion. "Go ahead and take it," Molus added. "It'll make for some added excitement once they see what you're wearing."

  Kaz wanted to reject the medallion. He saw no purpose in accepting the honor, not when he did not believe in it. All it meant was that he had wasted a portion of his life fighting and injuring others for the sake of the handful that ruled the minotaur race.

  "You should take it, you know. It may come in handy."

  Stiffening, Kaz glanced around. He recognized the voice. The only time he had ever heard it was in a dream.

  It was the voice of the gray man… but he was nowhere to be seen.

  Without really knowing why he did it, Kaz turned and took the medallion. Even with his wrists banded together, he managed to place it around his neck. A warmth spread through him. Scurn nodded, then stepped back. Anticipation was evident in his eyes, anticipation and perhaps a little envy. Someone else would have the honor of killing Kaz.

  There was no sign of Honor's Face. The axe Scurn wore was one of the service axes that the guard issued to its members. Of course, Scum would never risk an excellent weapon such as Honor's Face for the mundane tasks of the guard. Likely he planned to use it in the circus or in battle. Unlike the medallion, he had no intention of giving it back to its original owner even for one last battle. Scum's sense of honor went only so far.

  Another roar shook the colosseum, followed by more foot stomping and clapping. Whatever match had been going on had now ended and, from the sounds of it, Kaz suspected that one of the combatants had suffered a fatal defeat.

  We might conquer the world a little faster if we didn't keep disposing of our warriors in the arena, he thought with disgust. That made him think of Raud, which in turn made him think of Polik, who was probably in the audience already.

  "Let's get this going," Kaz snarled, holding out his hands so that the jailer could remove his bracelets.

  "That's the spirit!" chuckled Molus. He released Kaz. Ganth and Hecar were also freed from their bonds. None of the three were taken to the barred area, which was as Kaz had hoped. Again, minotaur habits worked to Kaz's advantage. Since his father and Hecar would follow Kaz, Molus and the others saw no sense in wasting time locking them up. With half a dozen guards surrounding them, it seemed unlikely that the pair would be able to try anything while Kaz was fighting in the arena.

  Of course, with a distraction such as he planned, the guards would be too stunned to react immediately when their prisoners attempted to escape. Everything counted on the minotaur race's penchant for routine.

  Had Kaz been of another race, say a human or elf, he would not have been as fortunate. Rarely were creatures of other races, with the exception of ogres, brought to the Great Circus. The smaller arenas dealt with the other races and usually allowed no chance of escape. The Great Circus was for the minotaurs almost exclusively. The few outsiders who fought in it were watched closely, since it was known that only members of the chosen of Sargas were truly honorable.

  "They've cleared the field," Molus announced. "Move on, Kaziganthi. It's your time."

  With two guards flanking him, Kaz walked out onto the field. In the stands, a sea of black, brown, and white forms, with a few other colors sprinkled here and there, watched and waited.

  At first there was silence. Generally it was so when criminals were brought out, for a minotaur who had dishonored himself was only half a minotaur in the eyes of his fellows. Then, perhaps because of the medallion hanging from his neck or the fact that at least some in the crowd had recognized him despite the many years, a murmuring arose. It grew in intensity and by the time Kaz and the guards reached the bloodstained center of the arena, it had risen almost to a cheer. In fact, there were more than a few who were indeed cheering… for him.

  From another entrance, more than a dozen warriors armed with a combination of swords, axes, spears, and nets appeared. They marched toward Kaz, each of them sleek gladiators in…heir prime. They were not champions of high rank, but definitely seasoned warriors. There were at least five females, but Kaz did not discount them. Helati was a prime example of what a female warrior was capable.

  So it was to be combat against overwhelming numbers. Kaz estimated sixteen warriors. That meant eight would do battle while the other eight surrounded the circle where Kaz would fight. If one of the first eight died or was unable to continue the combat, another, designated earlier by lottery, would enter the fray. Warriors would continue to join the struggle until the criminal was outlasted-and dead. There were variations on this, but for the Great Circus, this was the accepted system. Hecar had been given a lesser risk only because they had wanted him alive as bait.

  As the warriors began to surround Kaz and his escort, one of the guards handed him a much abused short sword. Kaz grunted, but did not otherwise protest. His weapon should have been better, but he knew not to expect otherwise. Polik and the high priest wanted to take no chances.r />
  Thinking of the pair, he quickly scanned the crowds. The emperor was usually seated in a box at the center of the longer side of the arena. His box was higher than most other seats. Beside him would sit Jopfer and members of the Supreme Circle.

  Sure enough, the box was occupied. Kaz squinted. Polik was there, a little heavier and wearier than years ago, but otherwise hardly changed. He still bore the physique of a champion, but Kaz could not see how he could have won every challenge he had faced in all these years. The emperor was clad in an elegant robe of brown and red and wore a crested helmet that was obviously used only for ceremonial purposes.

  It's true, then, the prisoner thought. The warlords brought Polik in because he could be managed, and the high priest and circle kept him in for the same reason.

  Polik was not looking at him, but was arguing with another minotaur, an armored figure that Kaz guessed was a member of the circle. He was tapping his chest again and again. It took Kaz a few moments to realize that Polik was complaining about the medallion. Even from so far away, most would recognize it as a symbol of a high-ranking champion. Those who still recalled Kaz would likely also remember that he could have challenged Polik if he had not abandoned the circus. The emperor did not like to be reminded of that.

  The emperor pointed at Kaz, then at the warriors. The minotaur beside him shook his head, but Polik was adamant. His companion signaled a guard. A few quick words were shared, then the guard hurried off.

  Horns blared. Kaz glanced to the side and saw a herald walk out. They were about to announce the battle. Not caring what the herald was going to say, he continued looking around. Polik and at least three members of the circle were in the audience, but the only representatives of the priesthood were Merriq and a pair of lesser acolytes. Of Jopfer there was no sign.

  His target would be Polik after all.

  "Wake up, you fool!" whispered one of the guards. "Or are you planning to just stand there and let them run you through?"

  Kaz snapped out of his reverie, realizing that the herald had finished and the warriors were readying themselves. Once they were all in place, eight surrounding Kaz and the other eight forming an outer circle, the guards backed out of the way and returned to where Ganth and Hecar were being held.

  Kaz had only a moment. He had to dispose of the weapon, distracting his opponents at the same time, then summon Honor's Face to him. Only Honor's Face, with its magic, could do what Kaz desired. Only the axe could fly as straight as he desired, and end Polik's reign once and for all.

  Another horn sounded. The gladiators paused, clearly confused. Kaz was also confused. The new signal commanded the gladiators to retreat, which they undertook in slight disarray.

  Yet another horn sounded. This time, no gladiators paraded out. Instead, a gate to the side opened. The minotaur's eyes widened. He knew what the gate meant. Someone had made a change in plans. Kaz no longer faced warriors.

  A roar echoed from the corridor behind the half-open gate. Instead of gladiators, Kaz was to fight an animal.

  The second roar was greater than the first. The crowd was excited. The audience, too, knew this was to be no ordinary confrontation.

  Then, a great head thrust out of the tunnel, massive nostrils sniffing the air in suspicion. Reptilian eyes slowly adjusted to the light. A maw of dagger-type teeth opened, and a thick red tongue darted out and in.

  A meredrake, a creature larger than the largest bear and resembling the dragons of lore, lumbered out. While only a reptile and not related to the great leviathans, it was still a vicious beast. This one was nearly full-grown.

  Many in the audience clearly saw the unfairness of the match-up, and even though Kaz was supposed to be a criminal, there were grumbles of protest. Polik pointedly ignored them, watching the prisoner with satisfaction. The reptile stalked toward the center of the field. The meredrake's tail swished back and forth, the beast growing more anxious as it smelled so many minotaurs.

  Then it saw Kaz.

  The meredrake hissed. One minotaur was not a threat to it, but rather a meal. Meredrakes were always eager to eat.

  Kaz gripped the short sword in one hand. He did not want to make his move right away. He wanted to study the monster for a minute to determine how to fight it. If the meredrake moved true to form, he had some hunches. If it surprised him, then it was very possible that Kaz would die, ripped to shreds by claws and teeth.

  It was not how he had hoped to die. He only wished he could take Polik with him.

  The beast raised its head and opened its jaws wide. To anyone else, the sight might have been enough to terrorize the hapless victim. Kaz, though, had faced dragons and other creatures far stranger and more deadly than a meredrake.

  Hissing, the meredrake abruptly charged to Kaz's left, moving with a swiftness and dexterity that its lumbering, reptilian form did not suggest. The crowd roared, protest mingling with cheers.

  Kaz roared at the charging beast, which stumbled momentarily. The seasoned warrior shifted his grip on his blade so as to be able to throw it, then threw the worn but still serviceable blade at the monster.

  The sword flew with the accuracy of a javelin, and the speed with which it moved was so great that its intended target had no time to get out of the way. The blade sank into the meredrake's shoulder. This time, the monster did more than stumble. It roared in pain as it raised one paw to knock the projectile from its wounded body.

  Even as he released the blade, Kaz held his other hand high. Honor's Face materialized. The crowd's tone shifted to confusion, but Kaz did not care what they thought. The great reptile had already batted away the sword as if it were a twig, something Kaz had not expected it to be able to do so swiftly, and the minotaur needed something better.

  Kaz stumbled back as the monster charged forward. The meredrake got one set of claws on the bottom of the axe head and pushed down. Honor's Face was ripped from the minotaur's grip.

  The huge monster charged forward again. Kaz threw himself onto the back of the beast, which hissed and tried to shake him off. The minotaur held tight and willed the axe to come to him.

  It did… just in time for the warrior to lose his seat. Kaz slid off the reptile's back to the loud reaction of the crowd. He did not know whether the audience was disappointed that he had failed or hoping that now the meredrake would turn around and tear his chest open.

  The meredrake turned. Kaz fell on its tail, seizing the appendage with his free hand. The tail dragged him along when the reptile moved, at first baffling the beast. After a few almost hilarious turns, the meredrake finally realized what was happening and whipped its tail to its open maw.

  Kaz released the appendage and rolled in the opposite direction. Rising to one knee, Kaz brought Honor's Face around and dug the gleaming blade deep into a half-raised paw. Blood splashed over the minotaur's head. Kaz tried to blink away the blood, which stung his eyes so much he could barely see.

  It nearly cost him his life. In agony, the meredrake swung wildly about, throwing Kaz and the axe into the air as easily as a child might toss a pebble. Kaz could do little to control his fall. He struck the ground with enough force to shake Honor's Face from his grasp.

  Only the enraged reptile's thundering movements warned the minotaur that he was once again in its path. Kaz rolled quickly to the side. His vision had returned, just in time to catch sight of the meredrake's jaws trying to close on his leg. The warrior snapped his leg back and kicked it forward into the meredrake's snout.

  The action stunned the beast, but not as much as Kaz had hoped. It managed to raise itself high on the three limbs it had that still functioned. It clearly intended to fall on its prey and crush him.

  Body aching, Kaz willed Honor's Face to him as the meredrake fell on him.

  Honor's Face formed in his hands. Kaz did the only thing he could. He tried to shift to the side with the head of the axe edgewise against the ground. That left the other edge in the monster's direct path.

  Several hundred pounds o
f reptile drove the air from the minotaur's chest as the meredrake landed. Kaz was certain he would be crushed to death, until the monster shivered and rolled away, a fresh stream of blood dripping over the minotaur. The magical weapon's astonishingly sharp edge had saved his life.

  Yet the meredrake was still not defeated. It breathed in long gasps. Its chest wound was deep, and one limb was nearly useless, but the massive jaws were still a threat to Kaz. Fortunately, Kaz had access to its throat. He rolled onto his stomach, Honor's Face cradled in his arms. The angle was such that a strong swing was impossible, but the axe could be just as deadly a thrusting weapon. The tip was sharp and long enough to kill.

  He rose to his knees immediately after rolling onto his stomach, but as he positioned himself to dart under the massive jaws of the beast, the meredrake shifted. It was clumsy and stiff, yet the combatants were in close proximity. Honor's Face was the only way Kaz could prevent the meredrake's jaws from getting at him. Kaz thrust the magical axe up into the creature's maw as hard as he was able. And there it stuck, in the meredrake's mouth, with Kaz holding on for dear life.

  He gritted his teeth.

  Paladine… Kiri-Jolith… guide me now, the warrior prayed. Releasing his hold on the axe, Kaz threw himself forward. Hissing, the reptile swung its head to the side, knocking the weapon to the ground.

  Kaz gored the meredrake in the throat and neck so hard that both his horns sank deep.

  Hundreds of pounds of monster threatened to fall on the minotaur, but he remained where he was, pushing upward as hard as possible. Cold blood poured down on his head. The meredrake tried to swipe at him with its injured paw. Kaz felt the beast shiver.

  With effort, the minotaur pulled free. The meredrake barely noticed. It rocked its head back and forth, its life fluids draining onto the circus grounds, then stumbled a few steps. Kaz scrambled away as best he could, exhaustion preventing him from going too far.

  The meredrake shivered, gave a gurgling sound… and collapsed on the field.

  The crowd roared. In all his time as a champion of the arenas, Kaz could not recall a cheer as great as the one that now echoed through the circus.