The Legend of Huma

by Richard Knaak

  After Kaz, Huma spoke. He did not plead with the knights, only spoke to them of the minotaur’s acts of bravery and justice. He also pointed out that honor was just as important to Kaz as it was to the knighthood.

  Lord Taggin looked extremely tired when all was said and done. Standing and facing the minotaur, who was bound and under guard, Lord Taggin took a deep breath and said, “The minotaur Kaz has cooperated in all ways. He has given us a good look at the workings of the Dragonqueen’s forces, and his words are confirmed by Huma, Knight of the Crown. By rights, he has earned an honorable death.”

  Kaz snorted angrily and began to struggle with his bonds. Huma started to rise, but Buoron pushed him back down. Taggin continued.

  “There is, however, another possibility. Paladine is the god of justice and wisdom. To execute the minotaur would be as great a travesty as we could commit. Therefore, I am placing him in the capable custody of Knight Huma, whom I believe we can trust to keep him under control.”

  A cheer arose. Opinions of Huma had swayed so much again that he was now nearly as great a hero to his fellows as he had been to the Ergothians.

  “Remove the minotaur’s bonds.”

  Knight Caleb reluctantly obeyed. Kaz gave him a toothy grin as the knight removed the last of the bonds; an instant later, the minotaur was bursting through the crowd. Kaz took hold of his former companion and lifted him high with a cry of pleasure.

  “I thought never to see you again, friend Huma! You should know that out of respect to you I held my temper while I searched! Glad I am that I chose to turn south immediately. It did occur to me that you might have gone north in search of me.”

  Huma flushed. “I could only hope you were safe. My path led me southward even when I did not wish it to. Magius—”

  Kaz misunderstood. “Yes, I saw that dragon-spawned mage friend of yours peering at me. He seemed quite willing to sacrifice me for the sake of expediency. I was so enraged by his satisfied expression that I began contemplating a suicidal escape attempt.” The minotaur bellowed in laughter, although Huma could not see why.

  Taggin cleared his throat. Huma quickly steered the minotaur over to him. “Lord Taggin, Knight of the Rose. I present to you Kaz, minotaur.”

  “Of a lineage that has produced more than a dozen champions of my race.” Blood did not count as much in the land of the minotaurs as it did among the aristocratically minded Knights of Solamnia, but a lineage that produced champions was highly admired by other minotaurs. To the knights, it was as if Kaz called himself a noble of his people.

  Taggin greeted the minotaur and then turned serious. “When the others are gone, we will speak. I’ve summoned the mage, too.”

  It did not take long for the room to empty. One look from the commander sent Buoron out the doorway. Kaz looked puzzled, but Lord Taggin refused to talk until Magius had arrived.

  With obvious reluctance, the mage entered. Kaz stiffened, and his eyes reddened in anger. Huma feared an attack, but Kaz stood his ground. Magius pretended the massive figure was not even there.

  “I have decided to come as you requested, Lord Taggin.”

  “How very decent of you.” The elder knight was no more willing to hide his animosity toward the mage than Buoron had been. “I’ve decided to allow you to continue your journey and will even provide an escort.”

  Magius sniffed. “How very decent of you, Lord Taggin, but we do not need an escort. Huma and I can make it on our own.”

  “But you won’t be alone, wolf-spawn,” Kaz hissed. “I will be going with you whether an escort does or not.”

  Taggin held up a hand for silence. “You have no choice. I will send an escort, anyway. It is not a politeness; it is a requirement if you intend going on with this—quest.”

  Magius glared openly at Huma. “Would that you had taken an oath of silence. Your tongue flaps well, it seems.”

  Huma bristled but would not satisfy his companion with a childish retort.

  The outpost commander stepped up to Magius until less than a hand’s span separated their faces. “You will be leaving tomorrow morning at dawn. No sooner, no later. If you think to sneak away, do not bother. We will find you, and then I will lock you up. We can hold a magic-user. Trust me on that.”

  It was quite satisfying to Huma when Magius was the first to back down. “Very well. Since we apparently have no choice.”

  “You do not.”

  Turning to Huma, Magius pointed to the minotaur and asked, “That must go with us as well?”

  “Absolutely.” Kaz added to Huma’s answer with a menacing snarl that revealed his teeth.

  “The morning, then.” Magius turned back to Lord Taggin. “Is that all?”

  “No. Do I understand that this is all based on a dream?”

  The mage smiled, sadly it seemed. “The Test was no dream. A nightmare is appropriate. A nightmare I hope to change.”

  Taggin stared into his eyes. “You have not told him everything, have you, Magius?”

  Huma’s eyes widened, then grew wider still, as the magic-user continued to delay his response.

  Magius glanced at the others, then abruptly turned toward the door. “No. When the time is right, I will.”

  They watched him depart.

  “Watch him, Huma,” Taggin finally whispered. “Not just for your sakes, but for his.”

  The younger knight could only nod. Again, he wondered how he could ever still believe in Magius.

  A knight stood waiting on the top of the tallest peak. His visor was down, so it was impossible to identify him. He wore the sign of the Knights of the Rose, and in his left hand he held a magnificent sword. He appeared to offer the weapon to Huma.

  Huma crawled over crag and ravine. He lost his grip more than a dozen times, but each time he regained it before he had a chance to fall. Although Huma was near the top, the other knight did not help him. Instead, the strange figure continued to hold out the sword.

  Huma stumbled over and accepted the proffered weapon. It was a beautiful sword—an antique. Huma sliced the air three times. The other knight looked on.

  The young knight thanked him for the weapon and asked him his name. The visored knight did not speak. Suddenly growing angry, Huma reached forward and lifted the visor.

  He was never sure what he saw, for something howled and Huma bolted upright in his cot, the dream shattered.

  Taggin was there to see that nothing went awry. He paid particular attention to the activities of Magius, but the spellcaster was behaving himself this morning.

  The escort arrived. Ten men had volunteered. Huma was relieved that Buoron was one of them.

  When the entire troop was ready and mounted, Buoron signaled for the gates to be opened. As they rode out, each man, with the exception of Magius and Kaz, saluted the outpost commander. Lord Taggin had said nothing to Huma that morning, but he returned the salute with a slight wave of assurance.

  Their route was to take them through open field for the entire journey, giving them an ever-expanding view of the chain of mountains. They were at least several days’ journey from their goal. Huma wondered which peak Magius was seeking and what he expected to find. The mage was being very quiet. As a matter of fact, his eyes had been fixed on the mountain peaks from the moment they had left the outpost. Magius stared at the great rocky leviathans as if his life depended on them—which it quite possibly did.

  Had Huma looked back at that moment, he might have noticed the swift form that darted into and out of whatever shelter it could find. It did not care for the day, which was harmful to its kind—not that it really thought of itself as other than an extension of its master. Nevertheless, it had made the long journey to act as the eyes and ears of the one who held its existence in his hands. For him, it would suffer the burning pain of daylight, daylight that seared it even through the ever-present cloud cover.

  Wherever the knight and the mage traveled, the dreadwolf would follow.

  CHAPTER 15

  The great g
iants loomed over them, oblivious to the tiny, uneasy creatures at the outermost edge. The mountains had been magnificent from a distance; they were overwhelming up close. Not even Magius spoke. As one, they could only stare.

  The mountains here were old, much older than many of their counterparts to the east and even to the north. More than one peak vanished into the cloud cover, testimony to unbelievable heights. Time had weathered all the mountains, some so much that they resembled the shells of gigantic sea creatures. The wind, ever-present and ten times wilder than on the plains, filled the air with almost human shrieks as it danced through the chain.

  “Sargas,” whispered Kaz. Nobody reprimanded him for the quiet exclamation.

  It was, of course, Magius who broke their concentration. He shifted uneasily on his mount, his gaze fixed, for the most part, on the peaks within the heart of the chain. “We will accomplish nothing sitting here gaping. Are you prepared to go on, Huma?”

  Huma blinked. “Yes. I guess we might as well. Kaz?”

  The minotaur gazed up at the peaks—and finally smiled. “I am quite familiar with such landscape, my friend. I have no qualms.”

  “We will wait here for you for three days, just as a precaution,” Buoron said.

  Magius sniffed and looked disdainfully away. “It is not necessary.”

  “Nevertheless, we will. What you say matters not.”

  “Let us go, then,” Huma quickly put in. He had a great desire to get this over and done with—if that were possible.

  “Agreed.” Magius urged his horse forward.

  “Huma,” Buoron said somberly, and held out a hand. His face was much like the mountains before them—hard-featured, but still admirable in its own way. “May Paladine watch over you.”

  “And you as well.”

  The other knights nodded their farewells as Huma passed. Huma did not look back as he rode, afraid that the desire to turn back from what might well be a foolish quest would ensnare him. Yet he showed no sign of fear to Magius or Kaz. A knight such as Bennett would have ridden into the mountains prepared to face the Dragonqueen herself, if need be. Huma knew he could never do that, but he would do his best to ride with dignity.

  All too soon they entered the mountain range. The peaks stood all around them, fantastic walls and barriers that seemed ready—waiting?—to close in and wipe out all trace of the tiny creatures who had dared to infest them.

  “Mountains such as these have always made me realize how an insect must feel,” Kaz commented.

  Ahead of them, Magius laughed scornfully. “These are mere lumps of rock. Impressive at first, but no more deserving of such reverence than the tiniest pebble on the beach.”

  “You have never truly known the mountains, then. Be careful, lest they bury you beneath their insignificance.”

  A cry rose from somewhere within the range of mountains. It was a harsh, predatory cry, and all three riders glanced around quickly.

  As the seconds passed and nothing materialized, Kaz turned to Magius. “What was that? Are you familiar with the sound?”

  The mage had regained his composure, as well as his arrogance. “A bird, perhaps. Possibly even a dragon. It would not surprise me to discover that the latter live here.”

  “Here?” Huma had sudden visions of great red dragons swooping down on the hapless group. Magius might be able to hold them off temporarily, but neither Kaz nor Huma would have much of a chance. A broadsword was of little use against the armored hide of a dragon.

  The trail was a twisting series of slopes, ledges, and precarious turns. Buoron had said that dwarves, long since departed from this region, had created the path, the only one that granted travelers some hope of emerging on the opposite side. The knights traveled the mountains as little as possible, not because they were afraid but because they knew that even the few brigands of the region steered clear of the chain.

  The wind whipped Huma’s cloak wildly around, and he was forced at last to pin it around him. The chill wind created eerie sounds, like the calling of strange, unimaginable beasts.

  Magius still had the lead, since he was the only one with any real idea where he was going. Huma was searching for a peak that matched the one on the tapestry, while Kaz was content merely to ride and let the others do the work. He cared little about what the magic-user was searching for. His own health, and Huma’s, was all that truly mattered. The Red Robe could perish for all Kaz cared.

  They rode around yet another turn and—came to a dead stop. Magius sputtered curses. Kaz laughed, despite the sinister look in the spellcaster’s eyes.

  The path lay buried beneath tons of rubble. Huma looked up and saw a new crevice in the side of one of the mountains. He tried to imagine the power required to create such a landslide.

  “I’ll not be cheated!” Magius stood in the saddle, crying out at the mountains. He whirled on the other two and said, “There were two diverging paths a short distance behind us. See if either curls back toward this one. I’ll see if there is anything that can be done here.”

  The minotaur did not care to take orders from Magius, but Huma quieted him. It would not do for Kaz to cross the mage now.

  While the spellcaster investigated the avalanche, Huma and Kaz rode back. The paths that Magius had spoken about seemed fairly unused, and one had even been obscured by the fragile shrubbery prevalent in the mountain chain. Huma chose the overgrown trail.

  Kaz broke off to investigate the other path. Huma watched him disappear, then he climbed off his horse. The footing on the path was too tricky, and he had no desire to endanger himself and his horse. Better to leave the animal behind. If the path proved steadier ahead, he would return for the horse and investigate further.

  It required the use of his broadsword to clear the path of foliage. Although the individual plants were weak, they grew in such profusion that it was like cutting into thick bales of hay. Huma was forced to chop continuously for several minutes before he made progress.

  First glance indicated that the path continued a rocky, upward climb that made riding impossible and walking a slow, dragging tedium.

  Suddenly, he stepped onto a gentle downward slope partly hidden by the vegetation. Huma smiled in relief. This path seemed to circle around to meet up with the original path beyond the avalanche. After a lengthy inspection, he finally concluded that the path was not only passable but that it would lead them more directly to the peaks Magius sought. It was also, he was pleased to note, a much less windblown path. The knight turned back, increasing his pace. By this time, he was sure that Kaz had completed his own search. He doubted also that Magius would have found a way around the avalanche in the meantime. Huma’s path looked to be the best—and perhaps the only—choice.

  He came to the meeting of the two slopes and stumbled back onto the rocky part of the trail. Huma turned a corner—and stopped dead before a great wall of rock. “What—?” he muttered, his brow raised in wonder. He looked up the length of the formation and laid a hand on its surface. It was all too real. He had to have taken a wrong turn, he realized.

  Huma backtracked, and stood in puzzlement. Every indication was that he had followed the correct path the first time. Yet the rock formation looked as though it had been in place for years. Moss dotted its surface. The formation was quite weathered, almost round on top.

  Finally, Huma gave up and returned to the other intersection he had discovered. Despite the feeling that this was the wrong route, he began to follow it. As he progressed, his confidence rose, for the trail seemed to lead back to where he wished to be. Then it abruptly curved toward the opposite direction. Soon, Huma was following a trail of twists and turns that kept his head spinning. The knight came to a halt. This path was leading him farther away. He grumbled to himself and then turned around to retrace his trail.

  The path he had traveled, which he knew should have twisted to the right, now twisted to the left.

  This was all wrong. Huma knew he could have made a mistake before, but not this ti
me; he’d been especially cautious, painstakingly noting the way. Buoron and others had said many travelers never left these mountains; now he could see why. It was as if the mountains themselves moved against the unwary, although Huma knew it must really be the work of a mortal entity. His thoughts turned to Galan Dracos, but this did not seem to fit the renegade’s style. He was being herded, he realized; Dracos would have captured him by now. No, this was magic with another purpose.

  His sword unsheathed, Huma began following the only available path.

  There was nothing out of the ordinary, just rocks, scraggly bushes, and a high-flying bird now and then.

  The path suddenly split off into two directions. Huma paused, suspecting that he really had only one choice. But which?

  He pondered for some time before he noticed the tap-tap beat coming from behind him. Huma whirled, his blade up and ready. He had been expecting an ogre or perhaps one of the Black Guard; instead, he found himself facing a hooded figure sitting on a large, flat rock.

  The tap-tap came from a staff much like Magius’s, and it was held by a gray, gloved hand partially covered by the sleeve of a cloak. The gray cloak, in turn, covered most of the form of a—Huma stepped closer to be sure—a gray-faced man.

  The gray man stroked his long, gray beard and smiled almost imperceptively at the knight.

  Huma lowered the blade—but not all the way. “Who are you?” he asked.

  “Who are you?” the gray man rejoined.

  The knight frowned but decided to play the game for now. “I am Huma, Knight of the Order of the Crown.”

  “A Knight of Solamnia.” The dull-colored figure spoke as if he had known it all along. The staff went tap-tap.

  “I’ve answered your question; now answer mine.”

  “I?” The gray man smiled, revealing gray teeth. “I am merely a fellow traveler.”

  Huma indicated the area around them. “This is not your doing?”

  “The mountains? Oh, no. They’ve been here for a long time, I understand.”