The History of Krynn: Vol V

by Dragon Lance

  “And your request is granted,” Dastrun announced before anyone could volunteer an opinion. “Your spirit is a credit to the clan.”

  “The same clan that’ll now ignore her if she falls prisoner to the guard!” Ganth quietly growled. “Do something, Kaz! I’m bereft of any ideas. What’s got into that girl?”

  “Evidently she’s one of yours after all, Father.”

  Fliara moved to join them, keeping her eyes on the patriarch. Dastrun looked around as if to see if anyone else was going to defect. When he saw that was not the case, he peered down at the trio. “By will of the clan, I commend you and send you on your way. Your path diverges from ours now, but your duty to honor remains strong. Oaths have been sworn and must be upheld.”

  “Don’t put him in a terrible bind with the emperor is what he’s saying,” whispered Ganth. He snorted. “And he talks of honor and duty.”

  Dastrun raised a hand, pointing at the door. “Go now. May Sargas and the spirit of Orilg guide you. I deem this audience at an end.”

  That was it. The assembled elders rose and began to depart. Clan Orilg had always been known for its efficiency and order.

  “Come with me,” Fliara said. Ganth hesitated, still glaring at the patriarch, but Kaz shook his head and steered his father toward the entrance.

  Kaz, while not happy, was at least relieved. The clan would leave him alone for now. Its intervention would have been more hindrance than help, especially with Dastrun in command.

  “Why’d you do it, lass?” Ganth was asking Fliara. “You needn’t have concerned yourself with our folly. It’s not been your way, ever.”

  Kaz’s sister looked from father to brother, then shifted her gaze ahead again. “No, it’s not. You didn’t recognize me at all, did you, Kaz?”

  The question caught him by surprise. He looked at his younger sister. Up close, he could see some family resemblance, but, it was true, she was virtually a stranger to him.

  “No, I didn’t recognize you. It’s been years, though.”

  “But you didn’t know me.”

  “I just said that.”

  Fliara looked at both of them. “That’s my reason.”

  She would say no more. Kaz looked to his father for clarification, but Ganth merely shrugged. He understood no better than his son.

  They came to the chamber where Hecar waited. Helati’s brother was pleased to see them. He had been expecting the worst. “They wouldn’t let me move from this chamber,” Hecar told them. “There were guards at the door.”

  “Dastrun’s thorough, I’ll give him that,” Ganth noted.

  “What happened in there, Kaz? Are we to be returned to the circus for the emperor’s amusement?”

  “No, Hecar, we’re being allowed to go on our way. In return, we won’t involve the clan in our doings and it’ll pretend it knew nothing of our whereabouts.”

  “Very kind. Hmmph. Better than I’d have expected of old Dastrun. Who’s this? Someone to see us out into the street?”

  “I’m coming with you, Hecariverani.”

  Hecar peered at her. “Hey, I know you.”

  “It’s my daughter, Fliara. You saw her a couple of times when Kyri brought her around.”

  “That little —” He ceased when he saw her bristle. Fliara was every inch a warrior, sleek and muscled. There was nothing diminutive about her now. “She’s turned into a fine fighter, I can see now, a credit to you and your mate, Ganth.”

  Ganth chuckled. “Well and quickly spoken, Hecar. She’s every bit as headstrong as the rest, which is why she’s one of us now. The foolish female just abandoned the clan to help us.”

  “Better to follow you than the clan these days,” Hecar returned. “I learned that a long time ago.” He thrust out a hand to Fliara. “You’re welcome to join, only you might change your mind. Your brother and father have a habit of getting into the worst of situations.”

  “And whose fault was it this time?” Kaz pointed out.

  “What is it with Jopfer?” Ganth asked his daughter, wisely changing the subject. “Why did he choose to go from the service of the circle to the state priesthood … and how was he selected to replace the former high priest? I’ve never heard of someone other than a cleric rising to that position.”

  “It was abrupt,” Fliara answered. “The old cleric was still going strong, but then one day he suddenly announced he was searching for a successor.” Her eyes narrowed. Kaz and Hecar were listening intently. “The priesthood had been adamant about supporting the warlords, and their position was weaker after the war because of it. I think the old high priest decided to quit. The circle was different. There were a lot of new members. Jopfer was one of the new generation, one with vitality, and he didn’t have any connection to the Dark Queen’s minions. That was important to gain people’s trust. He grew very popular very quickly.”

  “I’m beginning to smell a deal between interested parties,” Ganth grumbled.

  Kaz agreed. “Looks like either the circle offered Jopfer as a replacement or the high priest preferred him as a way of keeping the sons of Sargas from falling further from grace in the eyes of the people.” He shook his head. “Nothing sounds quite right. We must be missing something. Even if the clerics had lost their standing, why accept a minion of the circle as their master?”

  “Jopfer’s no minion of the circle,” Kaz’s sister offered. “In fact, they seem afraid of him now. He took to the role of high priest as if born to it. He’s not only brought the state priesthood to the forefront again, but eclipsed his predecessor.”

  “Things make even less sense, then.”

  They were interrupted by the sounds of armed warriors behind them. Some of the group who had accompanied Fliara at the circus waited just beyond the chamber. One of them stepped forward and curtly pointed.

  “I think, my children, that we’re being asked to leave this place.”

  The warrior in the lead responded, “The patriarch has found a house where you’ll be safe until tonight. He feels you should go there as soon as possible. We’ve been sent to escort you.”

  “What then?” asked Hecar.

  “I’m going after Delbin. He freed us in the circus. It’s because of me he’s here in the first place, and I owe it to the kender to get him out.”

  “Get him out of where? Who’s got him? The guard?”

  “No, I’d say the high priest.” When he saw Fliara start, Kaz reassured her, “You owe no obligation to us. I’d even make Father stay behind if I thought I could convince him to do so.”

  She gave him a look that was reminiscent of one Kaz himself had been known to give people in certain situations. “And you think I could do any less?”

  Ganth sighed. “What sort of children did I raise?”

  “The high priest,” Hecar mumbled. “We’ll be assaulting the temple itself …”

  “Probably. I can’t think of anywhere else they would keep him. There are supposed to be cells below the main building.”

  “The temple …” Helati’s brother grunted. “All right, then. How do you expect to gain entrance to that place? We can’t just walk in, can we?”

  Kaz lowered his voice, making certain that the warriors impatiently waiting by the door could not hear him. “No, but there is someone else who can.”

  “And who’s this? A cleric?”

  Kaz turned away from him without answering, and said to the guards, “We expect our weapons back before we go.”

  Honor’s Face and the other weapons were brought forth. The leader said, “We’ll give them back to you at the safe house.”

  “That’ll do.” Kaz looked at the others. Hecar was still waiting for an answer. Kaz smiled grimly. “You haven’t figured out who has the key to the temple? I’ll give you a guess. He’s not a cleric.”

  “Lad, you’re not talking about —”

  Kaz nodded to them. “Yes, Captain Scurn. He is no doubt looking for us even now. I think we should help him find us.”

  Chapter
12

  A TRAITOR IN THE MIDST

  Helati looked the children over one more time before settling down. She could not sleep, not just yet, so she spent the time in quiet contemplation of what she and Kaz had expected to do with their lives over the next few years. They wished for more children and had intended to expand their dwelling accordingly. However, the growth of the settlement was going to force them to rearrange some of their plans. Like it or not, Kaz was going to have clan responsibilities.

  Helati was not so put out by that. If anyone deserved such an honor, it was her mate. Had he not fought well in the war, faced mages and monsters, and earned the praise of other races, the last the hardest thing for any minotaur to attain? Clan Kaziganthi had a good ring to it, though it would no doubt be shortened to Kaz, as her mate expected.

  Her reverie was disrupted by a slight sound, a movement outside. It might have been only an animal, but Helati doubted that. Like Kaz, she had come to sense the difference between various intruders. This seemed more the two-footed kind.

  Easing the dagger from her belt sheath, Helati pinpointed the location. Even in her home she always wore a blade, a notion Kaz had introduced to her, for which she was glad. Her other weapons were nearby, but the sound was close to where the children slept. The dagger would be better.

  The sound was repeated. A footfall, all right. She poised herself, ready to strike.

  “Mistress Helati?” whispered a female voice.

  Many of the minotaurs had started calling her by a number of titles such as “lady,” “matriarch,” and “mistress.” Like Kaz, she preferred simply being called by her name, but the others would not hear of it.

  “Come in slowly,” she called, “with both hands visible.”

  The other obeyed. A moment later, a female called Keeli entered. Helati recalled her as the mate of Zurgas. The pair had been busy since their recent arrival, already having located a place to build their dwelling. “Forgive me for disturbing you at this time, but I wanted not to be noticed.”

  Helati lowered the dagger, but did not put it away. “And why is that, Keeli?”

  The other female looked around, making certain they were alone. “I had something to tell you, but I was afraid others might be around, others who might be the wrong ones.”

  “Including your mate?”

  “Zurgas knows, but since this is my knowledge, he agreed that it was up to me to tell you. He waits back at our campsite.”

  Helati did not know whether she was supposed to feel more secure knowing that or not. She was not certain she could trust the newcomer. “Perhaps if you explained what knowledge it is you have. …”

  Keeli cleared her throat. Her gaze fixed on Helati’s suspicious eyes. “I am of the clan of Sumarr. It’s not a large clan, but it has links to others. Through those links, I gained a position working as a low-level subordinate for a member of the Supreme Circle. At the time, I was proud of the honor. My work involved seeing to it that his dictates were followed by the State Guard. That was how I met my mate. He occupied a similar position for another member of the circle. We had cause to meet often, though we kept our interest in one another quiet for some time.”

  “Understandable.” Members of the circle were terribly rivalrous and, as such, leery of interaction between their subordinates. “What does this have to do with me?”

  Keeli looked down. “I am sorry. Let me move on. Months later, Zurgas and I came to the understanding that we could not love one another and still work for our masters. For our own good, we resigned to seek our futures elsewhere, perhaps in sailing. If either of us remained as a servant to a circle member, the other might be suspected of betraying secrets. You understand what I mean?”

  “I do. Go on.”

  “It was but a short time before I was to leave. I was doing what I could to make certain my master would have no reason to fault my work since I hoped he would still give me a recommendation. I worked late hours that day, trying to organize everything. That was when he came.”

  Helati said nothing, relieved that the other female had at last gotten to the point. The younger minotaur had begun to remind her, with her long-windedness, of a certain kender named Delbin.

  “He was a representative of the high priest. He seemed annoyed to find me there, but dismissed me a moment later as not being worth his interest. I recalled seeing him once or twice before, but only glances. He wore a robe that marked him as a cleric of some ranking. Since it was not entirely uncommon for the high priest and the circle to communicate, I thought nothing of it, but now that I’ve seen him again, I thought you ought to know.”

  It took several seconds for the statement to register. Kaz’s mate chose her words with care. “Let me see if I understand what you’re trying to say. You are talking about a high-ranking cleric who visited the sanctum of your master, one of the Supreme Circle, and then you claim to have seen him again. … Do you mean here?”

  “Yes! His appearance has changed, but I remember him. I’ve always been good at recalling faces.”

  A cleric among the settlers? High-ranking clerics especially did not simply give up their positions and walk away. She could think of only one reason why a cleric would be among her people: to spy for the priesthood.

  “You say he’s changed his appearance?”

  “Aye, Mistress Helati. The hair is shorter and his face did not wear such a beaten, gladiator look to it. Both horns were intact, too —”

  Helati stopped her there. She could not believe what she was hearing. “One of the horns is damaged?”

  “Broken off. I was afraid to say anything at first, for he stood next to you when we arrived.”

  Brogan.

  “The one who greeted you when you first met me?” she asked Keeli, hoping somehow the other would deny it. “Brogan?”

  “That was him. I swear by the sword of Kiri-Jolith.”

  Brogan a spy? How long had he been among them? He was one of their most trusted. Helati could not believe what she was hearing, and yet … there had been times when both she and Kaz had wondered if they were being monitored from Nethosak. The powers were suspicious of anything that threatened their supremacy.

  She could not condemn him without hearing his side. It could be that Keeli’s memory for faces was not so perfect. It could also be that Keeli herself was the spy. Helati tried not to let paranoia guide her emotions.

  “Come with me.” Sheathing the dagger, Helati returned to the children. With great care, she gathered them up, still slumbering, then turned to Keeli and commanded, “Walk before me. I’ll direct you where to go once we’re outside.”

  The younger female did not understand, but obeyed. They abandoned Helati’s dwelling, at which point she ordered Keeli to turn right. The dwelling they soon reached belonged to another mated pair raising a child of their own. The mother was a friend of Helati’s, named Ayasha. Ayasha could be trusted. She and Helati had been friends once, long ago in the homeland. It had been one of Helati’s greatest pleasures to greet Ayasha when she and her family had arrived in the settlement.

  She left the twins with Ayasha, her explanation a simple one, then briefly returned to her own dwelling. Moments later, sword dangling at her side, she journeyed to the home of Brogan. Keeli followed her halfway there, but Helati decided it was best if she went the rest of the distance alone. If, for some reason, the accusations were not true … or even if they were … she did not want Brogan knowing who had informed on him.

  Keeli protested. “You should not be alone with him.”

  Helati touched the hilt of her sword. “Don’t worry about me. You return to your mate until I call for you.”

  Still protesting, the younger female departed. Helati did not mention that she hoped Brogan was innocent. In any case, it would be easier to talk to him alone.

  The light from a small, crude fireplace burned in Brogan’s modest dwelling. He lived alone, far from most of the others. Helati glanced about, studying the lay of the land. Neither she no
r Kaz were overly familiar with the one-horned minotaur’s home, for Brogan generally visited them.

  Brogan a spy? The distance of his home from the main settlement and his constant interest in what Kaz was doing spoke against him, but could easily be excused for other, more mundane reasons. Helati felt rather foolish about accusing him, but could certainly not ignore Keeli’s words.

  She remembered that Brogan had tried to form an armed force to accompany Kaz to Nethosak. Had that also been a ploy of some sort?

  Enough paranoia! she scolded herself. Time to be a warrior.

  It was tempting to peer through a window, but Helati boldly knocked on the dwelling’s crude wooden door.

  “Who’s there? Who is it?”

  “It’s me, Brogan. Helati.”

  “Helati?” After some noise, the door swung open. The one-horned minotaur blinked, then smiled. “Some news of Kaz, I hope?”

  “Possibly.” She had not given any thought to what to say to him. Accuse him outright? “May I come in?”

  “Of course! Enter!”

  As she walked through the doorway, Helati noticed the mark of Kaz on the dwelling. Her insides twisted. If Brogan was innocent, what she had to say would greatly insult his honor. Yet if he was guilty, the mark of Kaz was of great insult to her and her family, a mockery of the friendship they had extended to Brogan.

  There were few furnishings in the minotaur’s home: a table, two stools, and a box in which personal effects no doubt were stored. Brogan apparently slept on a bedroll to one side of the single room. The fireplace was very small, almost as if an afterthought. A few items were scattered about, but overall the place seemed orderly. A battle-axe hung on a wall near the bedroll. The table was situated so that if Brogan sat down, he could reach the handle with little effort.

  In fact, Brogan led her to the table and offered her a seat. Helati shook her head. “I won’t be staying long. Just a few minutes at best.”

  He frowned. “Is something wrong? Have you heard some bad news?”

  “I’m not certain.” She did not know how to proceed. Had Kaz been here, Helati suspected he simply would have pushed ahead. She must do the same.