The Legend of Huma

by Richard Knaak

  Huma could think of only one thing to do. He shouted out his plan to the silver dragon. The oncoming warriors looked up in astonishment, and their orderly riding became haphazard as they momentarily forgot all else at sight of the magnificent denizen of the air. The silver dragon came down behind Kaz and was able to grab the minotaur by his shoulders. Kaz let out a startled cry and dropped his ax as the great talons applied pressure to both shoulders and hauled him off the ground. The knights tugged hard on the reins, desperately trying to halt their steeds while cheering for what they thought was the end of a marauding minotaur.

  Kaz continued a stream of curses that would have made the worst brigand blanch, but he was powerless in the grip of the silver dragon. When they were some distance away, the silver dragon dropped the minotaur gently to the ground and then landed nearby.

  Huma leaped off her back and immediately confronted Kaz. If not for the minotaur’s oath to serve him, Huma suspected he would have been slaughtered then and there. Fire glowed in the minotaur’s deep-set eyes, and he snorted continuously with anger.

  “No fighting!” Huma ordered.

  “They will kill me! At least let me fight to the death, not stand there like some ineffectual gully dwarf!”

  Very quietly and with a cold anger that surprised him, Huma repeated himself. “I said no fighting.”

  The minotaur exhaled sharply and seemed to slump. He stared at Huma. “As you wish. I will put my faith in you who have saved my life twice.”

  That again! Huma let out an exasperated breath and turned as the reorganized patrol rode hesitantly up to the odd trio. The patrol leader, the only one seemingly unaffected by the sight of the great dragon, called a halt and then leaned forward to study the young knight.

  “It seems Bennett is not rid of you after all, Huma.”

  Belated recognition dawned on Huma. “Rennard!”

  Rennard raised his visor. Some of the other knights shifted uncomfortably. Rennard’s face was deathly pale, and when he spoke it was almost as if his features did not move. He might have been a handsome man, but that handsomeness had been ruined by near-death in his youth, from plague. His face was gaunt and lined, and some of his detractors liked to joke that Rennard had, in fact, died of the disease and just never realized it. Such colorful comments never were spoken in his presence, though. Few knights were his match.

  Huma was pleased to see Rennard. The older knight had taken Huma under his wing from the first, when he came to Vingaard to present his petition for entry into the knighthood. Rennard had supported him when others had urged that he be rejected—a boy who could only claim his father was a knight and whose mother could give no evidence to support him.

  The knights had gotten over their awe of the dragon by this time, and now all eyed Kaz. There was a great amount of muttering, much of it concerning what so strange a being as a minotaur was doing here. Rennard beckoned to one of the other riders. “Bind the minotaur. I’m sure that Lord Oswal will be most interested in him and what he is doing this far from the action.”

  Kaz stepped back, fists raised. “Try! The first who lays a hand on me will never do so again!”

  One of the knights drew a sword. “Insolent beast! You won’t live long enough!”

  “No!” Huma stepped up to Rennard. “He’s no enemy. He was running from the ogres. I found him a prisoner of goblins and rescued him. He killed an ogre in order to save human lives!”

  Several of the men made snide comments on the gullibility of the young knight, and Huma knew his face had glared crimson.

  Kaz snorted. The slur on Huma’s honor was as much a slur on his own, since he owed his life to the human. “This is the honor of the Knights of Solamnia? This is how they treat one of their own? Perhaps I was mistaken to believe the knighthood might be as honorable as my own race!”

  The knight who had drawn his sword began urging his horse forward. “I’ll have your head, minotaur!”

  “You will do nothing of the sort, Knight Conrad.” The angered knight tried to face Rennard down, but, as had happened countless times before, it was the pale knight who was victorious. No one could face the ice-blue eyes.

  “In truth, there is nothing any of you could say against Huma’s ability to judge,” continued Rennard. “And you know it. Act like knights, not petty Ergothians or high, mighty elves.”

  The other warriors quieted, although it was clear they were not pleased with being scolded like children. Rennard did not care, Huma knew. Rennard was concerned only with Rennard.

  To Huma, he said, “The minotaur is placed in your custody, Huma. I know more about their kind than these others apparently do. If he will pledge to come among us in peace, that will be all the assurance I need.”

  Huma looked at Kaz, who stared at the patrol in general and at the gaunt knight in particular. After some consideration, the minotaur finally agreed. “I pledge to you that I will come in peace and that I will accept Huma’s judgment in all matters.”

  The last was a criticism of the knights’ lack of faith in one of their own. The knights shifted uneasily. They did not like the idea of so powerful a prisoner riding loose among them. The silver dragon looked on with an expression of mild amusement. Rennard’s face was devoid of reaction, but Huma felt he was amused by the remark.

  The patrol leader jabbed a thumb behind him. “We have a few extra horses, which we recovered about a mile from here. One of them is tall and strong enough to carry the minotaur, I believe. When you are satisfied, I want the two of you up front. We have much to discuss, and you, Knight Huma, must have a rather interesting report.”

  The other knights made room as Huma and Kaz stepped into their midst. There were five extra horses—four warhorses and one drafthorse that apparently had been abandoned by its owner. The drafthorse and two of the warhorses proved to be unfit for riding and had been taken along mainly for the meat on their bones. The tallest of the horses, and the only one capable of supporting the massive form of the minotaur, was skittish, but not so much that Kaz could not control him. Huma found a greyish silver steed and took an immediately liking to it. When they were mounted, they rejoined Rennard.

  Huma scanned the desolation. “What happened here?”

  The lack of emotion only made Rennard’s words the more frightening. “What usually happens, Huma? Mages fight their own private wars and tear up the lands, leaving nothing but rock and craters for those bound to the earth. Dragons burn or freeze or tear up the remaining fertile, green regions. By the time the armies clash, there is little if anything worth fighting for.”

  Mages were a sore subject with Rennard. No one knew why. Huma had never mentioned Magius to him for fear of alienating him, and losing one of Huma’s rare champions.

  “Did we lose?”

  “Stalemate. The fighting just moved north, although we were sent to assure that their northerly retreat was no feint. We were just about to turn back when we saw you.”

  The silver dragon, who had stayed patiently silent all this time, finally interjected. “You did not see the dragonriders, then?”

  Rennard’s head snapped up and the other knights stiffened. “Dragonriders, did you say?”

  “Six of them. All clad in black and all riding red dragons, save the leader, who rode a huge black dragon. They seemed to be searching until they noticed us. I tried to buy some time, but your fellow knight refused to leave me. He insisted on joining in the battle.”

  With most of the faces hidden by visors, Huma could not properly gauge the reactions of his comrades. Some few seemed to indicate approval with slight nods, while one was heard to mutter something about unnecessary foolhardiness. Rennard, meanwhile, seemed preoccupied.

  “A huge black, you say?”

  “The largest. Young, though. The rider chose to fight us one to one. We did, and then a strange thing occurred. Huma wounded him severely and the black was forced to retreat from the battle. Rather than seeking revenge, the others joined the black to seek help for their crippl
ed leader. They would have slaughtered us had they all come at once. I still do not understand.”

  Rennard’s face remained typically blank. How much this disturbed him was impossible to say. When he spoke next, it was as if the tale of the attack had already slipped his mind. “I can only thank you for the service you have given one of our own. Will you be joining us? I am unfamiliar with the healing of dragon wounds, but if the powers of a cleric of Mishakal will help, there are a few with the main force.”

  The great beast flexed her wings—which unnerved more than one knight and many of the horses—and declined his offer. “My own talents will suffice. I merely need rest. I will rejoin my kin. You might possibly see me afterward.” The last comment was directed more at Huma than Rennard.

  “It has been fascinating to know you even this brief time, Knight Huma,” the dragon continued. “Good tidings to you. May Paladine watch over you.”

  Without further ado, the silver dragon lifted herself high into the air. Huma and the others were forced to look away as the dust rose. When it had settled at last, the astonishing creature was already far away. The group watched her vanish into the clouds, still awed by her presence. Rennard turned and took stock of those under his command—including Huma and Kaz—and turned his horse. He gave no command, and none was expected. The others simply followed, the two newcomers riding just behind the patrol leader.

  It was not until they were well on their way that Rennard motioned the two to ride beside him. He continued to watch the path ahead as he spoke. “These riders. Have you ever seen or heard of them before, Huma?”

  “Should I have?”

  “Perhaps. Minotaur—”

  “My name is Kaz.” He appeared tired of being addressed as if he were not quite there.

  “Kaz, then. Surely, you must know them?”

  “They are the Black Guard. One of many of their names. They serve the renegade mage Galan Dracos and the Queen’s warlord, Crynus.”

  “What of the warlord himself?”

  Kaz shrugged. “He is a giant, although whether an ogre or human or something else, only a special few seem to know. He is a master strategist who is willing to take chances, even with himself. His favorite mount—mount …” The minotaur stopped speaking, and his eyes widened.

  A thin, deadly smile spread across Rennard’s face, a frightening sight on that deathlike visage. Rennard turned to Huma. “What I believe he was going to add was that the favored mount of Crynus is a huge black dragon called Charr. Both man and beast are obsessive risk-takers and one-to-one combat is something they relish greatly.”

  “And … and I fought against him.” The realization shook Huma. He had faced Crynus himself and lived.

  Then, he suddenly thought, so had the warlord. He had been badly wounded, true, but Huma was sure he lived—and somehow Huma knew that the warlord would seek him out. To regain face. To regain honor. To more than balance the score.

  To kill him.

  “I understand the warlord takes his battles very personally,” Rennard added, almost casually. He suddenly urged his horse to a quicker pace and the others followed suit as quickly as they were able. Even then, they did not move fast enough to suit Huma, who suddenly watched the sky nervously.

  CHAPTER 5

  If the devastation had looked terrible from above, a close view proved it to be even worse than that. Now, Huma could see with what thoroughness death had swept through this region. Kyre, a once-teeming city near the border with Ergoth, was no more. The fields were scorched. The dead lay scattered like broken toys. Most of the buildings were mere shells, if that much. As the patrol swept around the city’s east walls—or what was left of them—the stench of grisly decay rose. Huma prayed he would not lose control, and it gave him no satisfaction that several of the other knights looked sick. Rennard rode on in seeming indifference.

  By the end of the day, their horses and their armor were covered with mud. Realizing that they would not reach the main force for hours and knowing of the treacherous paths ahead, Rennard called for a halt at a dry location in the vicinity, along hard-packed earth that had once served as a country road. Behind them, they could make out curls of smoke rising from Kyre. The fires had long gone out, but the smoke refused to die, as if a reminder of the knighthood’s failure.

  The night passed without incident. Kaz, true to his oath, attempted to stand guard over the young knight all night long, until both Rennard and Huma insisted that the exhausted minotaur take his turn sleeping.

  They continued on at first light, Huma and Kaz again riding beside the patrol leader. Huma attempted to draw Rennard into conversation, but the other knight was as taciturn as ever. He would speak when he deemed it necessary, not otherwise.

  By noon, they neared the outer fringe of the southern flank. The battle had become nothing more than one great series of skirmishes, as each side tested for weaknesses. The patrol had been fortunate. Had they arrived at another time of day, they might have ridden directly into such a battle.

  Some of the knights gave a ragged cheer at the sight of the riders, mistaking them for reinforcements. Morale appeared low, and when the knights recognized Rennard and Huma, the cheers died on their lips.

  The camp of the southern flank lay southeast of the ruins of the city. Rennard pulled his mount to a stop. Before the patrol lay a great tent surrounded by Knights of the Sword. The pale knight did not dismount. Instead he summoned the captain of the guard. At the sight of Rennard, the knight in question blanched and quickly saluted.

  The deathly face stared down at him. “Who is in charge here?”

  “Lord Killian. You will not find him here, though. He has gone out among the men in an attempt to boost spirits.” The guard sounded as if he had very little faith in the attempt.

  Rennard nodded. “Perhaps you might assist us, then. Where will we find Lord Oswal’s command headquarters? When our patrol set out, it was located near here.”

  Under Rennard’s cold gaze, the guard informed them that command had moved another full day’s journey, this time to the northeast. The ever sardonic Kaz muttered something about chasing one’s own tail, but a stern look from Huma quieted him. The group was on the move again within seconds.

  The lands to the northeast proved to be in much fairer shape. The first living trees came into sight only an hour after the knights had resumed riding. As the minutes passed, more and more trees dotted the landscape. They were short and stubby, for the most part, but they were trees! The mood of the party lightened a little.

  Not once during their trek did they lose sight of the two vast armies maneuvering for position among the hills and trees. To the north lay the mountain ranges that marked the boundaries between Solamnia and old Ergoth. The ranges included several heaven-shattering peaks, home to a large colony of fearsome ogres. Those who dared travel through the mountain regions risked their lives and limbs.

  Huma’s mind wandered as the ride dragged on. What would Lord Oswal say when Huma confronted him? There had always been bad blood between the High Warrior and the Grand Master, and Lord Trake had been none too pleased with his brother’s decision to back young Huma. Such a decision could, in the long run, prove disastrous for Lord Oswal. In his position, he stood to lose much influence and power if Huma failed as a knight. The knighthood, for all its vaunted good, was a political organization. Not that this was Huma’s true concern. Rather, he wondered what would become of the army if someone other than the High Warrior commanded it. Lord Oswal was the knighthood’s most brilliant general.

  Rennard called out and pointed to the west. All eyes turned. The already overcast skies were becoming pitch black in the space of moments. The watchers saw the darkness advance like a plague of locusts in a field of grain, and they knew what they viewed—sorcery of the vilest kind. The Queen’s minions were once more at work in their attempt to shatter the lines of defense.

  Rennard slowed, looked at the others from behind his visor. He stared at Huma and Kaz. “Will the m
inotaur fight for us if you ask him, Huma?”

  Kaz snorted loudly. “Ask me yourself, ghoul!”

  The pale knight ignored the jibe as he might ignore the wind in his face. “Will you fight for us?”

  Huma felt Rennard’s eyes burn into his. “The decision is yours, Kaz.”

  The bovine face broke out into a savage, toothy grin. “Then I will fight, and gladly, as it will give me a chance to stretch my muscles. Besides, I was outcast from my kind the moment I chose to smite the ogre and run. They would kill me the moment they captured me. With you, I still have a chance to prove that my honor is not dead.”

  “Then let us add our strength to our brethren.” With those words, Rennard spurred his horse. Someone shouted a battle cry. Huma gritted his teeth, hoping that someone would take his grimace as raw determination and not an attempt to quell some of the feelings tearing his body apart.

  The creeping darkness came forth to greet them.

  They might as well have been fighting at midnight without a moon. There were screams from the wounded and dying and lusty cries from warriors of both sides. Murky, huge shapes soared through the air. Sometimes they struck at the figures on the ground, but rarely with full strength. The dragonfear had not yet been unleashed. There was too much chaos on the ground; the dragons might very well consume their own allies.

  Brilliant flashes of pure power revealed some of the carnage wrought on the field. Mages of white and red contested with the black. Concern for sage limits held the Red and White Robes from victory. Carelessness prevented the Black Robes from the same. Still, there was some effect; the vast inkiness that had come so swiftly now halted its deadly progress and even reversed a little. The Black Robes could not maintain the attacks against their colleagues, and the strength of the dark cloud, for more than a short time.