Kaz the Minotaur

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Kaz the Minotaur Page 27

by Richard Knaak


  * * * * *

  “You have … your god-spawned battle-axe … again! No matter! That will not … help you now!”

  Dracos had recovered somewhat, and now pointed a finger at his adversary. Kaz was thrown back, but he managed to keep a grip on his weapon. He landed on a table, crushing several tomes and breaking the table itself in two. The minotaur was only slightly stunned; he had suffered worse blows in tavern brawls with drunken, hateful humans.

  Dracos swore bitterly and swerved toward the emerald sphere.

  Kaz looked at his battle-axe, momentarily debating whether to throw it or not. He might succeed in striking the sphere, but there was no guarantee that it would shatter.

  Galan Dracos made it to the artifact, but he paused there, oddly indecisive. He seemed to be of two minds, and Kaz sourly reminded himself that he was indeed of two minds. What Argaen Ravenshadow lacked in sorcerous ability, he more than made up for in willpower, and he was not about to surrender his existence to Dracos. Ravenshadow was an elf, and he had centuries of training behind him, something the human mage had evidently not taken into account.

  Kaz took one look at the sphere and then at the struggling sorcerer. The minotaur hefted his battle-axe. Perhaps he could get two targets with one blow.

  The doorways were suddenly brimming with onrushing soldiers.

  Cursing, Kaz turned to meet them. He should have realized that it was only a matter of time before guards were summoned to investigate the commotion.

  The first man came at him, a spear thrust barely missing Kaz’s shoulder. This man, too, underestimated the reach of the minotaur, and Kaz brought the axe around, ripping a great gap in the human’s chest. The man tumbled to the floor as two others moved closer. They were armed with longswords. Behind them, a third man, clad in the dark armor of one of the Black Guard, saw the crazed mage and shouted Dracos’s name.

  Another guard went down under the minotaur’s onslaught, only now two more joined in. Against four, Kaz was hard pressed. These were not goblins; these were veteran warriors.

  Kaz couldn’t see what was happening, but the guardsman who had called out the mage’s name now gave a shout and ran toward his master, sword at the ready. That relieved the minotaur of one opponent, but the other three still kept him at bay.

  “Give me that, you little vermin!” a voice shouted from the other part of the room. Kaz could spare no time to glance back, but he could think of only one person the guardsman could be shouting at. In his present danger, he had forgotten that Delbin was still in the chamber. The kender was quick and armed with both a knife and a sling, but Kaz thought less of Delbin’s chances than he did of his own.

  “Stop him!” Ravenshadow—Dracos, Kaz corrected himself—shouted.

  The minotaur had no time to wonder what his companion was doing, for in the next instant, a huge form broke through the roof, sending massive sections of stone tumbling down on everyone. A guard in the corridor outside screamed as he was crushed by the stone. Kaz and his opponents leaped away from one another as a particularly large chunk fell between them, collapsing the floor and falling through to the next level.

  Above him, the stone dragon opened its mouth in a silent roar.

  One of the guards sought to take advantage of the moment and jumped across the gap. Kaz turned and caught him as he was landing. Before the man could secure his footing, Kaz shoved him backward with the top of his battle-axe. Cursing, the guard fell into the hole.

  Temporarily free, Kaz located Delbin. The kender was backed into a corner by the ebony-armored guardsman. In Delbin’s hands was a barely visible item, Ravenshadow’s shard. Off to one side and still near the emerald sphere, the two minds within the dark elf’s body continued their struggle. Occasionally words would bubble forth.

  The stone dragon finally worked its way into the chamber, leaving a gaping hole in its wake, and proceeded to go wild. The one opponent still left to the minotaur screamed as a massive paw crushed him into the floor. The beast’s tail swished back and forth madly. Whichever of the battling mages had summoned the beast barely controlled it now; it was possible that no one really did anymore.

  That left fighting it up to Kaz—and Delbin.

  The kender cried out. Kaz saw the guardsman strike the small figure down, but the dragon chose that moment to swipe at him with a huge rocky paw. The minotaur was buffeted and fell to one knee. The battle-axe almost slipped from his grip.

  Rage washed over Kaz. He saw the black figure lean over the still form of the kender, take the shard, and give it quickly to Dracos-Ravenshadow. He saw the elven body straighten and knew that, with that shard, one of them had finally triumphed.

  The stone dragon swiped at Kaz again, and this time the minotaur, still on one knee, defended himself with the dwarven axe.

  Honor’s Face cleaved through half the paw without even slowing.

  Kaz gaped, momentarily at a loss. The unliving leviathan reared back and mouthed a silent roar of anguish. It could not perish, not in the sense that a living creature could, but even this creature had a sense of self-preservation.

  Small wonder, then, that the beast feared the axe. If it were used properly, Kaz could fight the stone dragon. He should have realized before, especially after his first attempt at chopping his chains off. He remembered how easily the axe had cut into the wall.

  The massive creature stumbled backward, in the process creating more destruction. What remained of the ceiling was weakened even further. The wings of the beast flapped madly as it tried to rise from the chamber. One lucky blow caught the guardsman who had struck down Delbin. The hapless warrior went flying against—nearly through—one of the far walls, and Kaz knew he was dead.

  “Kill him! I command you!” Crouched over the emerald sphere like a protective mother, Dracos-Ravenshadow screamed at the stone leviathan. Kaz could see that he was slowly accumulating power with the aid of the magical device.

  Reluctant but unable to defy the command, the false dragon snapped at the valiant figure before it. Kaz held his ground and defended himself again, this time swinging the axe in a downward arc. The beast tried to halt the descent of its massive head, but its momentum worked against it. Kaz struck it squarely on the muzzle, the axe not stopping until it had split both the upper and lower portion of the jaws in two. A fault, beginning at the cut, now ran back through much of the creature’s head. The stone dragon staggered drunkenly. Its movements became stiffer, and Kaz realized that the magic was weakening.

  Encouraged, Kaz made a move toward the robed figure, his true adversary, regardless of whether the human or magic thief now inhabited that mortal shell.

  As Kaz moved, an entire section of the floor gave way. Into the chamber beneath went one of the dead guards, several tons of stone, a table and the artifacts spread on top of it—and Honor’s Face. Kaz himself barely succeeded in catching hold of what remained of the floor. With a tremendous effort, he tried to pull himself up.

  “I wish I could take the time to kill you slowly,” someone with Ravenshadow’s voice uttered madly, “but I fear time is precious right now.”

  The floor crumbled a bit more, and Kaz frantically changed his hold. The stone dragon loomed over him.

  Dangling by one hand, he looked down at the jagged rubble below, knowing that the fall would surely kill him. His eyes darted to the beast above him and at the robed form stepping around the emerald sphere. His eyes burned green.

  “I have the power now to form yet another shield. By the time they break that one, I will have the strength to deal with them permanently! You can die knowing that you have failed! I’m only sorry that I will not be able to witness your death!”

  To the stone dragon, Dracos-Ravenshadow shouted, “For the last time, kill him and be done!”

  The broken but still deadly jaws of the stone dragon opened wide and the beast lunged. As its head came down, Kaz used every bit of his will to summon Honor’s Face.

  Instantly the axe was in his hand. Kaz looked up at
onrushing death and muttered, “Paladine, guide my hand, or we’re both in for it!”

  It may be that Paladine did guide his hand. It may have just been the desperate strength of the minotaur, who knew that this was the end, one way or another. It may have been pure luck.

  His swing was timed perfectly; it caught the stone leviathan directly in the head near the fault. The battle-axe sank deep into hard rock, and Kaz was nearly flung across the room as the huge beast shook prodigiously. The minotaur landed soundly on the rubble-strewn floor, screaming as his left arm and leg were twisted grotesquely beneath him.

  The axe was wedged in the stone dragon’s head, which was now nearly split in two. The leviathan made one feeble attempt to knock the weapon free, but its movements were jerky. The spell could no longer hold together. As Kaz watched through dazed eyes, the stone dragon stiffened completely, teetered momentarily, and then fell over.

  If there had been any poetic justice, Kaz decided, Dracos-Ravenshadow would have turned at that very moment and seen the portent of his doom. His eyes would have widened, and he would have had time only to mouth a scream.

  Instead, the dragon toppled over onto both mage and sphere. The robed figure never saw death coming.

  In the end, Kaz could still not say who it was he had fought—Dracos, Ravenshadow, or some unholy combination of the two. What mattered was that the unholy threat was dead. Kaz blinked his vision clear and looked again. A single twisted arm was all that remained visible of his enemy. He smiled.

  Oceans of relief washed over him, and in their wake came the blissful nothingness of unconsciousness.

  CHAPTER 23

  At times his life seemed little more than collapsing and waking, and never more so than now. Kaz had visions of elegant, somber-looking elves surrounding his body. He dreamed of being carried through the mountains by a huge furred creature that might have been Greymir. Bennett and Darius were standing near him while Tesela prayed for his recovery. He, in turn, insisted they find Delbin, who, Kaz thought, might be dead. Each vision was punctuated by timeless intervals of darkness in which the minotaur heard voices, some real, some not. Briefly he dreamed of the overwhelming presence of the Dragonqueen.

  The Dragonqueen’s presence faded abruptly as another voice overwhelmed it. Kaz’s confused mind knew that it could only be Paladine, but the voice sounded very much like that of Huma. After that dream, he found he was able to sleep better.

  At last voices, actual voices, brought him back to the world of the living. Kaz opened his eyes and found himself lying on a mat in a large tent, surrounded by several arguing figures.

  “They have no right to him, milord!” Darius was shouting.

  “It would be a stain on our honor if we did not allow them to present their cause!” Bennett replied. “Besides, it is Kaz who must decide!”

  Tesela was also in the room, but at the moment, she was saying nothing. Watching the others with mild amusement was an elf. Kaz had to look hard, for the elf reminded him greatly of Sardal Crystalthorn. The newcomer noticed that the minotaur was awake and inclined his head slightly in greeting. He was one of the elves from Kaz’s memory.

  The cleric turned abruptly, and her eyes grew wide as she saw that her charge was awake. She rushed over to his side and put her arms around him. “Kaz! Thank Mishakal you’re going to be all right!”

  “Unnh! I’ll need your goddess’s services again if you don’t ease up!”

  The two knights broke off their argument and greeted him profusely. They were acting as if he had almost died. He was about to question them when a fifth figure entered the tent.

  Delbin’s face lit up, and the kender went bounding over to his friend. “Kaz! You’re alive! They said you might die because you lost so much blood, but I knew you were strong, and did you see what they did with the big green thing in the chamber? How come it didn’t shatter? I mean, Argaen shattered pretty good when the dragon fell on him, but the sphere was okay—”

  “That accursed thing is still in one piece?”

  The elf spoke. He stood with arms crossed and seemed to be leaning back, though there was nothing to support him. He wore a robe of white. “The abomination created by the renegade Galan Dracos has been removed from Argaen Ravenshadow’s stronghold. We cannot allow it to be returned to Vingaard, not after what happened the first time.”

  “Speaking for my uncle, the Grand Master,” Bennett added, “I have agreed to turn it over to the elves. They intend to bury it in a secret place far, far below the surface of Krynn. Farther than even the dwarves would ever dare dig.”

  “Why bury it? It should be destroyed!”

  “We have tried.” For the first time, the elf seemed annoyed. “We have failed, though I cannot say what still holds it together now that Galan Dracos is truly dead. Should we find a way to destroy it in the future, we will do so. The emerald sphere by itself is not dangerous. It is only, as you know, a means of drawing power from other sources, especially chaos.”

  “No one will ever use it again,” Bennett finished.

  Kaz nodded, but he was not completely satisfied. He fervently hoped the emerald sphere would stay where the elves buried it, at least until Kaz had gone to join his ancestors.

  “The enemy’s morale failed when they saw that no one defended inside the keep anymore,” Darius offered. “Many are dead or captured, and the rest are scattered loosely about the mountain chain. They will never be a coherent force again. That leaves the ogres in the north with no allies.”

  “When Solamnia is stronger, we will deal with them,” Bennett commented.

  Greatly relieved, Kaz turned his attention to Delbin. “What about you? I thought you were dead! I saw the guardsman strike you!”

  Tesela, who moved to stand beside Darius, explained, “He only had a large bump on his head. Delbin must’ve been struck with the flat of the blade. Judging by what was going on, I’d say that his attacker didn’t have time to be bothered with killing a kender.”

  “How fortunate.” Kaz patted his companion’s back. “I want to thank you for coming after me, although you shouldn’t have. It was a very brave, very heroic thing to do.”

  “The kender has explained as well as possible what happened to Galan Dracos and Argaen Ravenshadow,” the unknown elf interrupted. “An astounding and horrible conclusion. Branchala be praised that you were able to bring about his—their—death before it was too late. There is much I must discuss with my people when I return.” A strained look passed across the elf’s otherwise bland features. “Tell me, minotaur. Sardal Crystalthorn … did he die well?”

  “He did.”

  “We have recovered the body. I shall leave you now. I know you have many pressing matters to deal with.” The elf nodded to each of them and departed without another word.

  Kaz rose haltingly. “What does that mean?”

  The humans hesitated, but Delbin, in a sudden reversal of mood, worriedly replied, “They’re out there, Kaz! All of them! There’s a real ugly one—I guess he must be the leader—and there’s even an ogre! You’ve got to get away before—”

  From without, a deep voice bellowed, “Come out, coward! Come out and face your people! Face justice! Face honor!”

  Kaz stiffened. “When did they get here?”

  Bennett turned grim. “About an hour ago. They have already been to Vingaard, Kaz, and my uncle deemed their quest honorable enough to tell them where we were heading.”

  “He should never have—” Tesela began, but Kaz quieted her with a wave of his hand.

  “The Grand Master did what I’d do, human. I’ve run from them too long. I can’t keep doing that forever. Just once, I’d like to have a little peace and know that no one is trying to track me down.”

  “If you need someone to back you up, Kaz”—Darius gripped the handle of his sword—“I owe you my life, and I consider you a friend.”

  “No, this is something I’ve got to do alone. It’s a matter of honor.” Kaz looked around for the dwarven batt
le-axe and then ruefully looked in his left hand, where he was already holding it. The others looked at it in surprise; none of them had noticed it before.

  Bennett eyed it with professional interest. “Where did you get that?”

  “From a friend.” Kaz hefted the axe and took a deep breath.

  “Before you step out there,” Bennett added, “I think you might like to know that they have spent much of the time arguing about you. There seems to be a difference of opinion.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” The minotaur departed from the tent.

  Silence reigned as Kaz stepped out of the tent into the open. Several knights paused in their duties to watch the confrontation.

  About a dozen minotaurs stood before him, gathered in a half-circle. Two he recognized for certain—the brother and sister, Hecar and Helati, respectively. Kaz allowed himself a moment to admire Helati, who was easily the most attractive of the handful of females in the party, then turned to face a scarred menace who was the apparent leader.

  “I am Scurn. I am leader.”

  A movement by Hecar indicated a difference of opinion, but Scurn deigned not to notice it. Kaz concentrated on the disfigured minotaur who stood before him, knowing that if he was the leader, it was because he was the most powerful fighter.

  Scurn seemed to require a reply.

  “You know who I am.”

  Scurn’s eyes burned. There would be no dealing reasonably with this one, Kaz realized sourly. The scarred minotaur could barely contain himself.

  Someone moved behind the line of minotaurs. It was the ogre. Kaz tried to make out the ugly visage, but the ogre kept himself at least partly obscured.

  Eyes sweeping over Kaz, Scurn said, “You are accused of murder, the murder of the ogre captain you served under. Struck down from behind during the confusion of battle, he had no chance to defend himself. Our dislike for their kind is no secret, but such an act was a dishonor to your clan and to your people, and a crime in any civilized part of the world.” The scarred minotaur gave him a nasty smile. “That murder also required the breaking of an honor-binding oath of loyalty sworn before the elders and your emperor, a terrible deed unheard of, and was compounded by your cowardice when you fled rather than face proper punishment. When your crimes became known to the elders and the emperor, a proclamation for your capture and judgment was issued, and we were sent out to bring you to justice. Will you admit your guilt? Will you save what honor you have left?”

 

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