Kaz the Minotaur

by Richard Knaak

  Kaz shook his head, scattering memories of the war. To Delbin, he said, “I’m going to try a little hunting unless you think they might be following us still.”

  Delbin pursed his lips in thought. The kender was trying his best to be useful. “I think—I think they won’t be. Some men in Xak Tsaroth were talking about how the southern keeps are worried about Solamnia and what’s going on and how they think they should send some men to speak with the Grand Master or at least his nephew, who, I guess, has a lot of say about it all and might even be Grand Master soon because some of the knights think the present one is ill and—”

  All thought of hunting vanished at what the kender said. “Grand Master Oswal is ill?”

  “That’s what they said. It might be a rumor one old man said but a younger one thought it was true, and the nephew—I forget his name—”

  “Bennett.” Kaz’s face grew grim, and he snorted angrily. Delbin hushed, having seen the minotaur in this mood before.

  When Kaz had first met Bennett, the son of Grand Master Trake, the young, aristocratic knight had seemed little more than an arrogant tyrant. The final days of the war had seemed to change him, however, for Bennett had learned from Huma’s sacrifice what a true knight should be. On the day that Kaz had finally parted company with the knighthood, Bennett had been one of those who had thanked him solemnly for his part in the final conflict.

  There was an old saying among the minotaurs that warned of enemies who suddenly offered you their hand in friendship: One should always check for sharp claws first. Bennett, perhaps, had gone back to his old ways.

  I should give him the benefit of the doubt, Kaz thought. Huma would do that. But if I’m wrong.… The minotaur’s hands flexed as if gripping an imaginary axe.

  Hunting was the farthest thing from his mind now. “Delbin, did they say anything about me?”

  The kender shook his head. “They’ve got raider troubles, Kaz. A lot of the warlord’s army came south, and I guess they thought this area would be good, though I don’t know why. I always thought Hylo was much more pleasant, even though I really wouldn’t want the raiders going there either. After all, they’re not very well behaved, are they?”

  “I find it odd that they came here at all. Why not northeastern Istar or the mountains of Thoradin?” Kaz shrugged. The marauders had no apparent leader and they had no real home. Eventually they would be weeded out.

  “If they’re not paying any attention to me, then we’ll risk moving closer to the river. When we come to some settlement, I want you to go and buy—the key word is ‘buy,’ Delbin—some food for us. After we reach the woods in the north, we’ll start hunting again. We should be able to gather enough to see us to Vingaard.”

  Eyes wide with anticipation, Delbin grinned. “You’re really going all the way to Vingaard Keep? I’ve never seen it, but I hear it’s got vaults and locks and hiding holes and—”

  “Take a breath, Delbin. A deep one.” As the kender clamped his mouth shut, Kaz’s mind drifted to the journey ahead. He had everything planned out, and there was no word of his relentless pursuers. If nothing unexpected happened, the journey would be a safe one.

  The minotaur grimaced. If he really expected it to be so easy, then there was no need for him to continue to carry the heavy axe strapped across his back. He would certainly be more comfortable if he left it behind. Kaz had other weapons better designed for any hunting they might have to do.

  When the two of them rode off a few minutes later, however, the axe was still firmly in place in the harness strapped to his back. A single movement and it would be ready and waiting in his hand.

  Just in case.

  CHAPTER 4

  “One day—” their instructor said proudly, “one day it will be the minotaurs who rule the world of Krynn. Our enemies will be crushed under our strength. They are, after all, barbarians, are they not? We are the race that shall rule. Only we can truly bring civilization to this backward land. Others have tried, but they have always lacked our determination, our discipline. We minotaurs have a destiny.”

  The young minotaurs huddled wide-eyed before the standing instructor. Zebak was not the best of orators, but he had the passion that counted when dealing with the young. It was his duty to spread the message to the children, so that they would begin to understand.

  Another minotaur, not quite an adult, leaned through the entranceway and signaled to Zebak. The elder nodded and dismissed the newcomer. The children knew the signal, having seen it at least half a dozen times. It meant that one of their masters was passing nearby.

  Zebak began speaking of the art of war and how it should be the focus of a minotaur’s life. As he progressed, another being entered the room. He was a toothy abomination, as far as the children were concerned, but then, the ogre probably cared as little for their looks. As the ogre studied the children, Kaz, sitting in the back, was not the only one who could not completely conceal his mounting hatred.

  “A good class, teacher,” the ogre commented, his voice rumbling. His expression was like that of one admiring a potential meal.

  “I do my best.”

  The ogre gave him a strange look, one Kaz was too young to recognize. “So I hear.”

  Their visitor departed without another word, and the lesson continued.

  The next day, Zebak had disappeared. An ogre trained them for the rest of the season. They were to be ready for their first combat by spring.

  * * * * *

  “Kaz?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Is there something wrong? You keep staring off into the sky, which is pretty, I know, but the look on your face was strange, and I thought maybe—”

  “I’m fine, Delbin. Just remembering.” Kaz grunted. Now he was getting melancholy. Perhaps he was getting old.

  “There’s a place up ahead. I think it’s a sort of village. There might be fishermen. Should I buy us some fish? I promise I’ll be good. You’ll see.”

  Kaz scanned the settlement. Perhaps five crude houses—“houses” being a compliment to such ramshackle structures—sat near the river. Beyond the settlement and across the river lay the edge of the forest he had wanted to reach. High-pitched shouts made him tear his attention from the forest. A couple of human children ran in wild abandon around the houses. Kaz tried to picture young minotaurs in a similar situation but failed. Always there had been the training, even from the moment they began to walk. It was never too early to learn.

  A couple of adult males were pulling a small boat in from the river. Kaz gave the boat a cursory glance; no minotaur with any pride would have bothered with such a decrepit piece of flotsam. It was a disgrace.

  Someone spotted them. A cry rose up, and Kaz reined his horse to a stop. “Hold on, Delbin.”

  The kender looked at him curiously and, remarkably, said nothing.

  Kaz waited until a fair number of people had gathered. There seemed to be three definite families and a few scattered individuals. From the fearful looks on their faces and the ragged clothing most of them wore, he suspected that they were recent arrivals from the north who had come here in the hope of starting their lives over. That raised them a notch in the minotaur’s eyes. Many of the victims of the war had simply given up and were surviving, nothing more.

  When no more joined the group, he urged the horse forward at a slow pace, Delbin following suit. Kaz suspected at least one or two other men were hidden somewhere nearby, watching his moves.

  A graybeard with courage stepped in front of the others and said, “Come no farther, beast, unless you want to court death.”

  Kaz halted. Unless they had excellent archers, he knew that it would be a simple matter to wade into the villagers and disperse them. A swing or two of his axe would relieve them of any foolish souls. The urge to do just that was there, deeply embedded in the minotaur, but Kaz smothered it. Huma would have never forgiven him for attacking such people.

  “I am Kaz, and this is Delbin. We come in peace, human. Perhaps to
trade for some food, if you can spare it.” Kaz tried to speak as softly as possible, but his deep, bellowing voice still made some of the weaker ones cringe.

  Graybeard rubbed his buried chin. “You travel with a kender.”

  It was a statement, not a question, but Kaz responded regardless. “His name, as I mentioned, is Delbin, and he’ll talk your ear off if you let him—or even if you don’t. His presence alone should tell you I’m no threat, and I swear I’ll keep him away from your belongings as well.”

  Kaz smiled slightly, aware that what he considered truly a smile would reveal far too many teeth for the humans’ tastes.

  “Let’s kill him, Micah!” someone, a narrow, foxlike man, muttered. He had the look of an ex-soldier about him and was probably, judging by the others, the most dangerous of the bunch. Kaz’s hand inched a little closer to his axe.

  “There’s no need of that.” The voice was light and very female, as far as humans went, but one used to being obeyed, not out of fear but respect. A short, slightly robust female with long brown hair walked toward them from the direction of the river. She had large, dark eyes that reminded Kaz of those of his own kind and full lips that turned slightly downward, giving her a bit of a disapproving look, like an instructor.

  Kaz found no treachery in her face and, gazing at her clothing, understood why. The gown was a simple coarse material, but that was not what attracted his attention. Rather, his eyes were fixed on the medallion hanging from her neck. The minotaur was long familiar with what was carved on the medallion, for he had seen more than a few of them during the war. A cleric of Mishakal, goddess of healing. Such a one was no threat, and her word was as good as any, probably better. Kaz moved his hand away from his axe.

  “I still say we can’t afford to take a chance,” the ex-soldier muttered.

  “If Tesela thinks we’re safe,” the graybeard chided. “then we’re safe.” He paused. “You meant what you said, didn’t you, Tesela?”

  She smiled, brightening an already sunlit day. “I meant it, Drew. There is no evil in this one, regardless of his race. Great confusion, yes, but nothing harmful—” the cleric paused and eyed the man who had protested—“unless someone provokes him needlessly.”

  The ex-soldier quickly shook his head. “I was only thinking—”

  “I know, Korum.”

  “What about the kender?” Drew asked, frowning beneath his bush of hair. “Are you going to vouch for him as well?”

  “Delbin will stay here with the horses,” Kaz offered immediately. As the kender opened his mouth for what surely would have been a long-winded protest, the minotaur added, “Take a breath, Delbin.”

  His companion closed his mouth tightly and gave him as glowering a look as a kender was capable of. Some of the humans smiled in amusement and Drew nodded.

  “Then you are welcome here for today, but I must ask you to leave by tomorrow.”

  “No worry there, elder. I plan to keep going as soon as possible.” Kaz dismounted and handed the reins to a pouting Delbin. He turned back to the humans and found all of them, including the cleric, staring up at him in awe. They were only now just realizing how massive he was. Some of their fears were returning, and Kaz quickly tried to think of some way to set them at ease. He decided on surrendering his axe.

  “You really have no need to fear me. If you like, I’ll leave my axe here as a sign of good faith.”

  The elder was about to accept the offer when Tesela, with a harried look suddenly on her face, spouted, “No! That—that won’t be necessary.”

  “See here, cleric,” the old man snarled. “We appreciate all your help in this past month, what with Gia and my wife becoming sick and all of us worn out, but you’re a guest here as well. I wish you’d let me do what I was chosen to do.”

  The cleric looked downcast. “I apologize, Drew.”

  “Don’t do that.” The graybeard smiled. “When you do that, I feel as if I just cursed Mishakal herself.” With a sigh, he turned to Kaz and said, “If she feels you should keep your axe, then I guess that’s all right, although I can’t for the life of me fathom what you might be needin’ it for.”

  Kaz nodded his thanks. He was surprised that a cleric of Mishakal would speak on his behalf and countenance a weapon besides. A weapon was always a weapon, and to a healer like Tesela, it represented everything she worked against.

  “Kaz?” Delbin was squirming in his saddle. “Can’t I get off now? I promise I won’t go near anything. Could I bring the horses down the river there so we can all get some water, because I don’t know about them, but I could really use some. It’s been a dry ride, and the sun was shining and I’d really like to—”

  The minotaur looked at Tesela and the elder, and Drew nodded. “As long as he brings the horses downriver and keeps away from our things. We have little enough without a kender getting his sticky little hands on our things.”

  Delbin looked at his hands sulkily. “My hands aren’t sticky. I even wash them on occasion, and I said I wasn’t going to touch hardly anything because Kaz here doesn’t like it, and—”

  “Don’t push your luck, Delbin. Be nice and quiet and go water the horses.”

  “I’ll go with him,” Tesela offered.

  It was clear that Drew would have preferred that the cleric take charge of the minotaur, but he nodded permission nonetheless. With some hesitation, the gray-bearded man held out his hand to Kaz. “W-Welcome.”

  The minotaur’s hand swallowed up the old man’s. They shook and Kaz released him. Drew took a moment to make certain that his hand was still attached to his arm and then asked, “What will you be needing?”

  Kaz rattled off a list of food and some basic goods he thought the small settlement might be able to supply him with. “I’ve got the gold to pay for it.”

  Drew nodded and began leading him toward the riverbank. “That will be greatly appreciated. We’ll be able to buy a few things from the river traders and possibly even send someone down to Xak Tsaroth. We lost so much before and during our journey down here.”

  “You came from northern Solamnia?”

  “From a place called Teal, west of Kyre.”

  “Kyre?” Kaz’s eyes widened. “I fought near there—on the side of Paladine, of course.”

  The elder lowered his voice. “It would be wise not to mention anything about the war, no matter which side you fought on. There have been … troubles.”

  Grunting, Kaz said, “I hear disturbing things about Solamnia, elder, especially concerning those who dwell in Vingaard. I’d have thought the land would be on the way to recovery by now.”

  Drew’s tone grew bitter. “It would be … if things had continued. At first the knighthood directed people in the rebuilding of their homes and the revival of the land. They spent their own money to buy food from those regions spared the greatest atrocities at the hands of the Dark Lady’s minions, and they hunted down the scattered bands that refused to surrender. Things seemed well on their way.…”

  “But?”

  The old man’s eyes grew vague, as if he were looking back into the past. “It wasn’t just the knighthood, but those who lived near Vingaard as well. We can all understand bitterness and the fact that some people cannot return to a way of life the younger ones don’t even remember. Did I tell you that I was once a merchant? Pfah! That’s neither here nor there; my mind’s going! You want to hear about the troubles. Hold on a moment.”

  At the elder’s summons, a burly man with a bow came trotting over. “Gil, here, was our protection in case you proved dangerous. He was a master archer in Kyre, but you know what happened to that city. Now Gil is our chief procurer of meat. A better hunter you will never meet.”

  Despite his savage looks, the archer seemed to be a pleasant man who took Kaz in stride. “Elder Drew overstates my skill. With most of the woods to the north either dead or torn apart, the wildlife fled to these parts. I practically trip over game every step I take.”

  Drew shook his head
in denial. “Our archer underplays his skill. I think Chislev, who watches over nature, or Habbakuk, who is lord over the animals, guides his hand. They know that he takes only what is necessary for food and never hunts for pure sport.”

  “As is only right,” Kaz commented. He could see that the archer was a man of honor and fairness.

  The elder explained Kaz’s needs, and Gil said he would work on supplying them. With a nod to each of them, the hunter departed.

  Drew watched him go. “You will find few men like him as you near Vingaard Keep, my minotaur friend. As I was saying, the aid stopped, not all at once, but so quickly that many were caught with nothing. The lands produced little food, and many of the forests were useless save as huge supplies of kindling. Then Vingaard began sending out its knights with a different mission in mind. With great efficiency, they began to gather whatever raw materials they could. They started demanding labor for the money spent. Those who could not pay, and that was most of the populace, were turned into serfs.”

  “Serfs?” Kaz could not believe that of Lord Oswal, or even Bennett. The two were, in the end, believers in the Code and the Measure, and from what the minotaur had learned during his time with them, the enslavement of others was something that was forbidden. It was a law that Vinas Solamnus, founder of the knighthood, had himself created.

  “I see by the look in your eyes that you disbelieve some of what I say, minotaur. Unfortunately, it’s all sadly true.” Drew’s tone suggested that he had experienced much of this firsthand.

  “I’m not denying your words, human. It’s just that I have fought by the side of the Grand Master and his nephew. Whatever their faults, I can’t believe they’ve slipped so far. You make them sound little better than the roving marauders.”

  “More like the greedy lords of Ergoth, I would have said, minotaur, but then I was a merchant in that land for some time. I fear, however, that the Knights of Solamnia will not stop there, as you yourself should know. I have seen the proclamation of the Grand Master, Kaz, and some of the others have as well, I’m certain.”