by Dragon Lance
“I’m worried that Kaz might be in danger, that he might also have been captured and imprisoned along with my brother.”
“Well, as you indicated not long ago, Kaz hasn’t been gone all that long. He might even be on his way back by now.”
“Maybe. What makes me fear that Kaz is a prisoner are some rumors.” She hesitated for effect. “I’ve heard there might be spies among us, Brogan.”
“Spies?” He sounded genuinely concerned. “Here? Who?”
“There may be more than one, but I’ve heard that there’s at least one who might be acting as a servant of the high priest himself.” She watched him for some sign of guilt. So far, he seemed perfectly at ease.
“The high priest, eh?” He rubbed his muzzle and turned toward the fire, staring into it. The battle-axe was only a step away, but Brogan made no move toward it. “I don’t like the sound of it. The high priest, he’s a deadly sort. Not a gladiator. More like a serpent. That’s what he always reminded me of.”
“Then you’ve seen him … often?”
“Now and then.” The male squatted by the fire and, seizing a loose stick, prodded the fire into greater life. “From a distance.”
“Do you have any idea who might be the spy, Brogan?”
The question startled him more than it should have. Helati saw that. Her hand shifted slowly, almost casually, to the hilt of her sword.
“I used to be one,” he replied, still stirring the fire.
The outright admission was so unexpected that Helati froze where she stood, not quite certain how to continue. Her grip tightened on the sword. “You’re the spy, then?”
He looked up at her. “No, I said I used to be one. When I first came here, I was a spy for the high priest. I sent messages through various means back to Nethosak. The past four months, though, I’ve been sending misleading messages.”
“Why would you do that? More to the point, why should I believe you?”
Brogan finished tending the fire and rose. “When I came here, I was a fairly high-ranking cleric. That’s why they trusted me to send them accurate intelligence about this settlement and its growth. His Holiness does not like this place. Everyone and everything here defies his preaching. I was ordered to assess the situation and report on it. I did so for the first several months.”
“What changed your mind?” Helati found herself wanting to believe that Brogan was a friend, not an enemy. But he might simply be an excellent liar.
The one-horned minotaur looked her in the eye. “Kaz. You. The lives I saw around me. There’s more life, more satisfaction here than in all the homeland. Oh, everyone works frantically to fulfill our ‘destiny,’ but we are losing our individuality. We are becoming the servants of the dream, not the masters we were supposed to be.” Brogan shook his head. “Honor has become like a sword without a warrior to wield it. We’re heading in the same direction as the ancient ogres. Even if we do conquer the world, we will eventually fall. Without honor, without vitality and respect for ourselves, we’re lost.”
Helati’s grip on the hilt loosened. Brogan sounded honest, but could she believe him? “Pretty words. I’d like to believe that being here has somehow converted you, but I’ve got no proof, Brogan. Can you tell me anything that’ll make me more willing to accept your words?”
“No. Nothing. My words are all I’ve got. I saw in Kaz the embodiment of what we should be. I decided to follow his example. To be a true minotaur warrior, I could do no less.”
More words, but still no proof. She had to make a decision. “Brogan, what you’ve said sounds good, but I can’t accept words alone. I think you should come with me. I think some of the others need to hear what you’ve said.”
“I understand that, but could I ask you a question?”
“Ask.”
“Who told you about me?”
“I just found out, that’s all.”
“It was the two newcomers, wasn’t it? They’re the only source of recent news. I wondered about them. I thought the female looked familiar —” His eyes brightened. “She worked for the priesthood … no … the circle!” He grinned. “Of course, that amounts to the same thing these days. At least three members of the circle are under the thumb of Jopfer, especially his old mentor! Hah! To think that old war dog thought he was being handed the state priesthood when they offered to make his aide high priest in return for concessions! He thought Jopfer would stay his servant, but it’s turned around on him!”
Helati was able to follow only some of what he said, but it was enough to make her hair stand straight. A servant of the circle was high priest? Jopfer? That name sounded familiar. She was almost certain he was an old friend of her brother.
“Well, we can discuss that later,” Brogan concluded. He looked around. “The fire will burn down without any trouble, and I’ve nothing else to take care of. I suppose we can leave immediately, then. I won’t bother with taking my axe, of course.”
“All right, you walk in front of me.”
He shifted around. “You should unsheathe your sword, just in case. I would.”
Granting his point, Helati pulled her sword free and pointed it at his back. “Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
“Village center.” The center was not far from her own dwelling, and it was where most of the minotaurs gathered to talk.
“Good. I’d prefer somewhere more crowded for the time being.”
She did not ask what he meant by that. As they started out the door, however, Helati suddenly recalled something. If Brogan was a cleric, then by rights he had abilities that could make her sword useless. She had seen clerics, not only those of Sargas, who could stop a foe in their tracks with but a glance. It was like magic, and yet not. So far, though, Brogan had made no false moves.
They stepped out into the darkness, the one-horned male scanning the area as he walked. Outside, he seemed a little on edge. That, in turn, made Helati more attentive. Did Brogan have allies? She hadn’t considered that possibility.
Brogan took a few more steps, then paused. Helati readied herself, expecting him to turn and attack suddenly, but the other minotaur simply coughed and then continued ahead.
Helati took a step after him.
Suddenly the cleric turned and roared, “Get down!”
For some reason, Helati obeyed. As she did, a whistling sound caught her attention. She looked up from where she had dropped and saw Brogan, an arrow sticking out of his shoulder. He grunted, dropping to his knees.
A second arrow struck the earth just beyond her head. Then, figures, shadows with raised weapons, began to emerge from the foliage. She counted two, then a third.
“Helati!” hissed Brogan. “If you’ve got a dagger, I could use it, please!”
She would have been glad to oblige him, but the first of the three was almost upon her. Helati barely had time to rise before an axe blade swung past her face. Backing away, she slashed with her own weapon, but her attacker moved aside.
The second attacker raced past her. Brogan was the intended target. Helati reached for the blade on her belt, but found herself too harried to toss it to her companion. The third figure had joined the fray, and both it and the second attacked at once. She was driven back, effectively separated from Brogan.
Darkness had prevented her from immediately identifying her assailants, only that one was male and the other female. It was not until the female missed with her sword and uttered a curse that Helati recognized her.
It was Keeli. The other minotaurs Helati could not identify.
Why were they trying to kill Brogan? Did they know of his defection? It was the only reason that made sense.
“Surrender and we’ll take you to your mate!” offered Keeli in a snide tone.
“I don’t think so. I … just … don’t trust you for some reason, Keeli.”
The other female laughed, then lunged. Helati dodged, but was thrown into the path of the minotaur wielding an axe, which was probably what Keeli
had planned. The axe came down, barely missing her foot. She swung her sword and, more out of luck than skill, grazed the axe-wielder’s arm. He quickly pulled back.
“I thought you were supposed to be good,” Keeli said mockingly. “They said that Kaz himself trained you. Maybe he’s not as good as they say. Maybe he won’t last that long in the circus.”
She was trying to goad Helati. The thought that Kaz might be facing death in the circus threatened to wreck her concentration.
What was happening to Brogan, she could not say. Neither he nor the third attacker were within sight.
Now the axe-wielder returned to the fray, but his swing was a little off. The second swing was not as shaky, but he left a bigger opening. Leaping away from Keeli, Helati thrust at the male’s upper leg, near the muscle.
The blade cut deeply. The assassin did not scream, but fell to one knee. His axe he kept gripped in one hand, but he was badly wounded. Helati backed away, focusing on Keeli.
Blade clashed against blade. Keeli was good, but her moves were traditional, the type taught for generation after generation by instructors. Against most opponents, she would have been almost unbeatable, but Kaz, though more proficient with an axe, knew sword tricks that were outside all the usual rules.
Helati let herself be pushed back. She sensed Keeli’s growing confidence that Kaz’s mate was about to fall. Twice the assassin struck, and each time Helati yielded a little more.
When next her opponent attacked, Helati brought her blade under and around. Keeli tried to counter, but Helati instantly withdrew her sword, causing the former to over-reach herself. Kaz’s mate immediately lunged, making utmost use of the opening. She hoped only to wound Keeli, but the younger female twisted wildly in an attempt to sidestep the blade.
Her maneuver had just the opposite effect. Keeli’s sword missed Helati’s hand by a scant half inch. The force with which Keeli swung her blade brought her forward more than she had anticipated. The tip of Helati’s sword sank deep into the other minotaur’s chest.
Gasping, Keeli slumped forward. Helati barely had time to pull her sword free before her adversary fell to the ground. Keeli’s life had already seeped away.
Helati did not waste time dwelling on her triumph. She eyed the wounded male, but he was clearly no threat. Turning her gaze to the side, she searched for Brogan.
She spotted him standing over Zurgas, the latter crumpled to the ground. The cleric was breathing heavily, holding his wounded shoulder. Helati took a closer look at the dead minotaur. The shaft of an arrow rose from Zurgas’s throat. Somehow, Brogan had turned the arrow into a makeshift dagger. It was a reminder of just how skilled he was.
A scuffling sound reminded her of the third assassin. He was trying to drag himself into a position where he could either throw or swing his axe.
“I suggest you drop that before I kill you,” she informed him.
“Kill me, then,” he grunted in a familiar voice.
“No, she won’t kill you. Not yet.” Brogan walked up to the pair, gripping the wound in his shoulder. “Not until I’ve finished with you.”
The assassin cringed. Helati had to keep herself from shaking.
“Keep away from me! I have the high priest’s favor! You’ve betrayed your master!”
“The high priest isn’t here,” Brogan pointed out. “And if you doubt that I still have the power granted by Sargas, then I can think of a dozen fascinating ways in which to resolve those doubts.”
The prisoner lowered the axe. He glanced from Brogan to Helati. “I yield to you! Not to him! I give my bond to you! I swear!”
“And how can she tell if you’re a warrior of your word? You hunt us from the darkness, giving no warning, no challenge. That is not the way of honor, is it?”
All Brogan did was talk, yet each fierce word seemed to pierce the prisoner like the tip of a blade.
“I swear!”
Looking at Helati again, Brogan asked, “Do you accept his bond?”
She did by nodding. Brogan nodded back, then asked, “Will you allow me to question this one in your name?”
“I gave her my bond. I did not give it to you!”
“But I may act for her, if she desires.”
Twisting around, the prisoner pleaded, “Mistress Helati! I’ve lived here for more than six months, acting as agent of the high priest, especially when he became suspicious of this one’s information. I am Yestral.”
Yestral. The name was familiar. “I know you. You helped build the storage house.”
“Aye. My orders were to watch and report all. Then, when Keeli and her mate arrived, she informed me that the high priest wanted Brogan eliminated for his betrayal. Since your mate was known to be riding toward Nethosak, where it was assumed he would be captured or killed, she also commanded your execution. Keeli said she’d bring the pair of you together. Zurgas and I were to follow and await our chance. She would join us if able. I obeyed, but it wasn’t to my liking.”
“How many others?” asked Brogan. “How many other agents does His Holiness have here?”
“None! I swear!” Yestral’s fear of the one-horned minotaur was palpable. “Mistress Helati! I’m your prisoner, not his!”
“All right, but you’ll answer all questions when I ask them. Is that understood?”
“I swear by the horns of Sargas.”
They were interrupted by the arrival of three other minotaurs. Helati tensed, then saw they were ones she was certain she could trust.
“You see?” said the foremost, a dark-furred, bulky male with wide eyes who acted as smith for the settlement. “I told you I heard weapon play.”
The other two nodded. One of them looked at Helati. “Are you all right, Mistress?”
“I am, but Brogan is wounded.”
He waved off assistance. “It’ll heal right enough. Someone should take care of this one, though, Mistress Helati. We also need to dispose of these two carrion.”
“Agreed.” She pointed at one of the newcomers. “You. Get some help to drag these two back to the main part of the settlement. I want this one bound and locked up in the storage house.”
They moved to obey. Brogan joined Helati.
“What of me?”
“I’ll take a chance on you, but you have to tell me what you did that made him fear you so.”
He smiled ruefully. “I’ve got something of a reputation. Much of it is exaggerated, but … some of it isn’t.” His tone darkened. “I don’t make excuses for that. I’ll tell you anything you want to know about my past, but I ask that you leave that for tomorrow. I think I’m going to collapse soon if I don’t tend to this shoulder.”
Helati had almost forgotten about his wound. “Let me help you.”
“I can minister to it myself. You have enough to concern yourself with. Get some sleep, Mistress.” He nodded farewell, then walked toward his dwelling.
“One more question,” she suddenly called.
“What?”
“You seemed to know that something was going to happen. How did you?”
He looked somewhat guilty. “It seemed like the sort of ambush I might’ve planned once.”
She made no attempt to stop him when he turned away. Perhaps there was reason to be suspicious of him, but Helati doubted that Brogan was lying.
What about Kaz? Yestral’s words haunted her. Kaz had ridden into a trap, after all. They knew he would ride to Nethosak and try to rescue her brother. What had happened to him?
I have to go rescue him, Helati thought. I have to go after him before it’s too late … but what about the children?
Brogan had offered to organize an armed force. She knew that if she asked for aid, he and most of the others would offer themselves, but to take so many into what certainly had to be the maw of danger …
I have to go alone. There’s no way around it. Ayasha will have to tend the children. She loves them as if they were her own.
She shivered, thinking about that. It was fortunate tha
t her friend cared for the twins so much. It was all too likely that if Helati did not return from Nethosak, Ayasha might find herself acting as mother to the young pair for the rest of her life.
*
Delbin looked around the chamber. The chains holding him against the wall had so far defied his supreme lock-picking skills, which really impressed him. That left him with only sleep or staring at the wall, but he was too curious to sleep. Why did a minotaur cleric desire his presence? Maybe he had never seen a kender before and was just curious. More likely, the bad minotaurs wanted to use him against Kaz. Delbin hoped someone would come by soon before things got too boring. So far, the only visitor to his chamber had been a guard who had inspected his head for injuries.
His head still throbbed, but not nearly as much as earlier. At least now Delbin could see clearly, not that there was much to see in the room. It was nicer than he would have expected from a prison cell. The place was clean and orderly. There was even a bed to one side, though he certainly had no way to reach it at the moment. A table and two chairs stood not far from the bed, also out of his reach. The room was dim at the moment because the only light source came from a pair of torches in the hall beyond his cell door. But Delbin’s night vision remained exceptional.
With nothing else to do, he occupied his thoughts with the memories of the dream he had experienced just before blacking out. The man in gray again. The kender wondered why he had dreamt of the strange figure yet another time. True, the dream had been interesting, even entertaining at times, but why the gray man? Why had he not dreamt of being rescued by Kaz instead?
It did not matter. What mattered was that the gray man had reassured him, saying there was still hope. Hope for what, Delbin could not say. What the gray man had said after that was a hazy memory, but the kender had no difficulty keeping his spirits up. Already he began wondering if, by using the pick he had secreted in his hand, he might be able to unlock the fascinating mechanism that kept the manacles sealed. …
A murmur from the hall distracted him. It was not one of the guards, but rather what sounded like a child shuffling down the outside corridor.
