They worked for half an hour but found nothing more. Carnelia at last waved the men back, eyeing the moist gaps they had created. She looked at Rand, but the cleric shook his head, which to Aryx meant that the blond human sensed nothing. Neither looked at the minotaurs, not a good sign at all. Aryx belatedly realized that what he had found not only failed to prove his people were innocent, but also had possibly incriminated them in a deed much darker than first imagined.
Carnelia confirmed his fears. “This won’t go over well with my uncle, bull. I don’t think you had anything to do with this, but some of your kind will have to pay. Mark me on that.”
“No minotaur did this,” Aryx insisted. He sniffed the air. Could that be a faint hint of musk in the air, or did he simply imagine it? “Something else took them.”
“Your sea monsters?” She briefly took off her helm, brushing back hair that had fallen loose. Aryx noted Rand’s gaze drift to her hair. “No one’s seen them but you, and your description’s as murky as the fog you keep mentioning. I’m inclined to think maybe sea elves in armor took your crew, but I doubt they could have done this. No, Aryx, your people are to blame, and Broedius will see it that way, too, I’m afraid. He’ll think, as I do, that they killed the patrol and the sentries, then dragged the bodies away to either be buried elsewhere or tossed into the sea. It was just luck they missed the hand. You know it as well as I do.”
He sensed some sympathy from her, a change from Carnelia’s generally dismissive attitude of minotaurs. However, even her changing emotions would do nothing for Aryx’s kind. Lord Broedius held sway over the empire, and he would clearly demand his brand of justice once Carnelia reported what they had found.
The subcommander removed a pouch from her belt, cautiously placing the severed hand within it. Giving the pouch to one of her men, she faced Aryx again. “It might be best if you came along when I present this evidence to Broedius. You’ll have the opportunity to speak for mercy for your people. That’s all I can do, Aryx.”
“Speak for mercy?” Delara snarled. “No minotaur would have done such a dishonorable deed!”
“I’m afraid my uncle won’t see it that way.”
Aryx cut off Delara and his brother before they could protest further. Carnelia had given him an opening he had sought for some time. An audience with Broedius, whatever the reason for it, would give him the opportunity to impress upon the commanding knight the danger Aryx felt certain lurked around the islands.
“I’ll go. I want to see him.”
“You may regret it after he’s made his decision,” Carnelia returned.
The party mounted up, the holes the only testament to their visit. Aryx eyed the holes, already filling in with loose sand and sea water. Then his eyes drifted away from shore to the fog. Did it seem nearer to shore? Could it have drifted in during one of Sargonnas’s mysterious absences, then retreated? He stared at it, trying to judge distances. It did appear nearer than previous days.
“Aryx?” Rand called.
He turned, discovering that the others had already started off. Urging his mount on, the worried minotaur tried not to think of the soft ground, ground that he suspected held more secrets than any of them realized. He only hoped that he could convince Lord Broedius of that.
* * * * *
The ebony eyes narrowed under the thick, furrowed brow. The broad-shouldered knight leaned over the table covered in charts, hands clenched in barely checked anger. He had listened in silence as Carnelia had reported their findings, his set expression growing more tight with each passing moment. His silence more than his manner disturbed Aryx, for he knew that Broedius had probably already made up his mind as to how the minotaurs would pay for this transgression.
“So …” the knight commander finally uttered, his voice so quiet that Aryx had to concentrate to hear him. “So … all dead. Each one of them slaughtered.”
Carnelia had presented him with the most gruesome piece of evidence immediately Broedius had picked up the hand with curious gentleness, almost as if afraid he might break it. He had stared at it for some time before finally placing it on one of his charts. Now he stared at it again, coming to a final determination.
Aryx could not allow him to do that without speaking in turn. Only he and Carnelia had been allowed to see Broedius. Not even the cleric was permitted to speak in the minotaurs’ defense. Saving his people had once again been thrust upon the young warrior, and he dared not fail.
“Lord Broedius, by my ancestors, this act couldn’t have been committed by my people! So dishonorable, so heinous a slaughter is not how minotaurs—”
“I know very well the depths to which the minotaurs may stoop,” the commander interjected too calmly. “As does my niece Carnelia.”
Aryx glanced at the female knight, who had grown pale at her uncle’s words. She shook her head at the senior knight, but Broedius ignored her.
“As you may or may not know, minotaur, my brother—her father—was slain by your kind, killed with the rest of his companions by marauders on the Blood Sea. Minotaurs, Aryx. Minotaurs who proved they have no greater sense of honor than anyone else!” He touched the severed hand gently. “So do not seek to sway me by fanciful tales of your kind’s noble aspects. I won’t believe them.”
“Then what of my own past? What of the creatures from the sea who attacked my own ship, human? For some time, I’ve tried to see you, tried to warn you that the same fog that encroached upon the Kraken’s Eye now creeps nearer and nearer to shore! I believe that in its wake will come, perhaps has already come—”
“Nothing will come with the fog.” Broedius held up a piece of parchment. “Since our arrival, fourteen vessels have docked in the imperial capital, not one of them reporting so much as wild water! True, we also have reports of two ships wrecked, but no proof that weather or pirates or any threat of a more mundane nature might not have been at work!”
Aryx found it amazing that the human could deny what to him seemed so obvious. “How can you—”
Broedius turned away from him. “Carnelia!” The female knight snapped to attention. “Place the emperor, his staff, and every member of the Supreme Circle under house arrest. Locate the leading elders of House Orilg and do the same … the patriarch, too, if he’s fit enough.”
“Sir … Uncle—”
“That is an order, Carnelia! See to it now!”
“Yes, sir.” Despite her obvious feelings concerning minotaurs, she did not look at all happy about obeying her uncle. Nonetheless, she saluted, turned, and stalked out of Lord Broedius’s chamber.
“As for you, minotaur …” Broedius stepped around the table, meeting Aryx’s glare with his own unsettling eyes. “I allow you to go free for now because I’ve no proof you were part of this. However, know that if your kind thought their situation distasteful before, they’re about to find out how easy they had it. Your clan especially will see changes from here on.”
Fighting against his own temper, Aryx rumbled, “Human, you’ll bring down everything if you try to keep the emperor and elders under guard without proof that they did the deed! We will not stand—”
“Then you will kneel. Consider the choices, minotaur, and consider them wisely. Your god has given you to us; you will obey one way or the other. Those who will not, those who would dare strike at us, will suffer the consequences of their ignorance.”
“Your troops are already thinly spread,” the furious minotaur pointed out. “If you do the emperor and the others such dishonor, do you think you’ll be able to stand against the tide of rage you’re creating? I do not threaten when I say that the Knights of Takhisis would be washed away by such a tide.”
“We shall not be so thinly spread. I already intend to pull the sentries in to the higher ground, thereby requiring fewer of them.”
“A few paltry warriors—”
Broedius gave him a grim smile. “And, of course, the Queen’s Champion and the Dragonwing will be here soon, too.” In response to Aryx’s puzz
led look, the commander explained. “Did I fail to mention that others were on the way? Yes, bull, two more ships, reinforcements, will be arriving. They’ll help with the second phase of this expedition. My Lord Ariakan leaves nothing to chance.”
“You never said anything about more troops.”
“I found no need. Your god knew that they were coming; didn’t he tell you? Of course not. Knights of the Lily and Knights of the Thorn, bull. You know the Knights of the Thorn, don’t you?”
There had been but a small handful aboard, yet Aryx recalled them well. The Knights of the Thorn had differed greatly from the Knights of the Lily. In fact, they were not knights at all. They were mages, once black-robed spellcasters following Nuitari, but now loyal only to the dread queen. The other warriors aboard ship clearly cared little for them, but that did not mean that they did not understand how useful the cloaked, secretive figures could be in battle.
Broedius nodded. “You do. You see, Aryx, I intend to maintain order and command here, and if your kind won’t see the necessity of that, I’ll simply have to show them.”
“Sargonnas will not permit it.” Aryx uttered the words without much conviction. The God of Vengeance appeared not to care one whit.
“In this, he has no choice, I promise you.” The knight turned away. “Dismissed.”
Aryx started forward, refusing to end the argument. However, Broedius’s personal guards immediately stepped toward him, weapons drawn. Despite his fury, the minotaur knew better than to face such odds. He showed the knights his empty palms and moved back.
“I have an offer for you, Aryx,” Lord Broedius announced, his back still to the minotaur. He seemed to be contemplating the far wall, upon which hung the banner of the knighthood. “One that just occurred to me. Bring me those who are responsible for the deaths of my men, and I’ll recall the guard from the emperor and the rest. That’s all I ask. Bring me those who will confess so that I may execute them for their crimes and end the matter. A simple, straightforward offer, I think.”
“Damn you, human, there’s no one to bring before you! Your men weren’t killed by my kind!” Aryx could not prove that, but in his heart, he knew it. “We’re all in danger! You should be fortifying the shoreline with more men, even minotaurs, not relying on fewer sentries located far from land’s edge!”
Still gazing at the banner, Broedius casually signaled with one hand. The guards moved in on Aryx.
He backed to the door, but he made no move for his axe. The wary eyes of the guards watched him carefully. Any suspicious move on his part would be the only excuse they would need to attack. Broedius turned as Aryx exited the room, the human’s broad face expressionless.
“The Queen’s Champion and the Dragonwing will arrive in two, three days at most,” he repeated. “I’ll expect the murderers by then, bull, or I may have to begin taking more absolute measures … beginning with your clan.”
* * * * *
Lord Broedius proved true to his word. The commander’s elite talons spread out through the capital, surrounding and seizing the palace and the citadel of the Supreme Circle. Those members of the latter who were not immediately taken into custody the knights began to hunt down, General Geryl at the top of that list. Orilg’s elders were also placed under arrest, but nothing could be done to Torvak, for the patriarch had died from his illness that very day.
The minotaurs, in turn, did nothing but further foment trouble. True, Aryx could not blame them for being furious over the knights’ dishonorable conduct, but he had hoped that they at least would recall the threat of which Sargonnas had spoken. Both sides seemed concerned only with bending the other until one of them broke.
It did not help that the next day rumors began to circulate concerning minotaurs who were missing. These spread swiftly, growing in proportion until some claimed entire clans had been dragged off in chains by the knights. Aryx knew few of the stories to be true, but those with some merit disturbed him. Three of the missing warriors had last been sighted near some part of the island’s vast shoreline, always when the fog seemed just a little thicker, the air just a little musky. No one could tell him whether the fog had ever touched land’s edge, but Aryx felt certain that it had.
He abandoned all attempts at mediating, his short term as Broedius’s administrator general and even shorter one as clan representative of little use now. Of the knights, only Carnelia listened at all to him. Most of the others tended to share the attitudes of Drejjen or Lord Broedius. On the other side, the minotaurs, especially those few left in charge of clan Orilg, could not decide what to make of him. Many still saw him as Sargonnas’s servant and so treated him with awe, but others looked at Aryx as if he had betrayed his own race. In truth, he could not argue with those who thought the latter.
Perhaps because he could find no way by which to resolve the growing tensions between the two races, Aryx chose late the next day to saddle his horse with the intention of riding out to investigate the site from which the knights had disappeared. Although Carnelia’s men had rather thoroughly searched the area, Aryx could not help but hope that perhaps they had missed something, some clue that would reveal the minotaurs were not to blame. True, such clues would raise new and possibly more frightening specters, but he could not leave matters as they were.
Seph found him just as he mounted. Aryx swore under his breath, wanting to leave his brother out of this.
“Where are you going in this weather, Aryx? I thought you’d be staying nearby today. Those gathering clouds look like a possible storm.”
“Nowhere you need to worry about, Seph. Go back to our quarters. I’ll watch out for the storm.”
“And have just the priests for company?” The younger minotaur snorted at the thought. “Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to have dinner with the high priest himself!” Xarav ever loomed in the vicinity of Sargonnas’s chamber, hoping, it seemed, to be summoned by his god. Each time Aryx came and knocked on the god’s doors, the high priest materialized, ready to enter at a moment’s notice. Sargonnas, though, never invited his chief servant inside, and Aryx’s audiences, however short and unenlightening they were to the warrior, clearly drove Xarav to jealousy.
“You’re going somewhere important, aren’t you?” Seph’s face took on an eager expression Aryx did not like. “I’m coming with you!”
“You’re not!” He tugged the reins of his mount. “I’m leaving now. It’s a long ride, and you’ll never find me, so give up now.”
“If you leave now I’ll follow your trail and even if I lose it, I’ll keep riding. You know I will, Aryx.”
The gray minotaur gritted his teeth. He knew Seph would keep his word. The stubborn streak that they could trace back to Kaz Dragonslayer and, before him, Orilg, ran true in both brothers. Aryx did not like the thought of Seph being with him, but better under his eye than running loose.
“All right … but stick close. You have your axe?”
His brother’s eyes narrowed. “Where are we going, Aryx?”
“Just get your horse.”
The ride to the spot was uneventful. As eager as Aryx had been to reach it, he did not look forward to having any of his fears confirmed. Staring down at the sandy shore from where the signal fire had been located, Aryx could not help wondering whether his decision to come here had been a foolish mistake. But, no, he could not leave matters where they stood. Someone had to keep the two factions from each other’s throats lest the empire crumble from within.
“I thought this was where you wanted to go,” Seph whispered. “I almost wish I hadn’t come.”
“I almost wish I’d stayed with you.” He peered down at the seemingly innocent beach. Just looking at it made every nerve tingle, as if something even now awaited them below. The cloud cover had darkened more, turning the threat of a storm into a promise. A chill sea breeze coursed around them even now. For that matter, the fog looked ominously close, much closer than during his previous visit. All in all, it felt more like dusk than late afternoon.<
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“Do we go down, Aryx?”
He nodded. They would have to go down to the shore. The rocky ground up here would reveal little in the way of clues. Urging his horse on, he let the animal slowly make its way down the ridge. Had they come from the opposite direction, their route would have been simpler. But that also would have meant the pair would spend much too much time riding over the sandy shoreline, a danger Aryx had wanted to avoid. An entire armed patrol and three sentries had vanished in this region, and based on what he knew so far, the sand seemed the most likely place of ambush.
The horses struggled a bit for footing but made the descent without incident. Aryx immediately dismounted, studying his surroundings. The holes dug by Carnelia’s men had already almost filled in. The spot where he had discovered the armored hand seemed almost pristine, as if the minotaur had never dug there. He frowned as he moved nearer. For so much of the area to have been reclaimed already pointed at a violent sea, but last night had been relatively calm.
Seph dismounted. “What do you hope to find?”
“Anything that would prove our people had nothing to do with the disappearances.” He wondered why he continued to call them disappearances. The severed hand proved that the humans had probably been slaughtered to a man. “Preferably something small and easily carried away from here.”
They began to comb the area. Aryx reminded Seph to remain close. The quiet lapping of the tide did little to relax him, for each time he looked up, the fog seemed to have edged a little nearer to shore. At last, giving in to the urge, Aryx pulled free his axe, the weight in his hand a comfort. It made his search a little more cumbersome but eased his thoughts somewhat. If anything came at them, he would ready for it.
More than an hour passed, an hour in which the pair discovered nothing, not even a single bit of armor. The few traces of blood Carnelia had discovered previously had been all but washed away by the tide. Had he not known what had happened here, Aryx would have thought this the most peaceful location on Mithas.
Reavers of the Blood Sea Page 14
