As Kaz approached the front door of The Bloody Axe, a stout minotaur, one of the few of his type that Kaz could ever recall meeting, came out. His face was as round as his body.
"Welcome in the name of Sargas, warrior. You'll be wanting a room?"
"Yes, for myself and my servant."
The innkeeper cocked an eye at Delbin. "A kender servant? First gully dwarves and now… kender? Can our day of mastery be far behind if we've already reached this stage?" His remarks bore more than a touch of sarcasm. Turning his gaze back to Kaz, he asked, "Where do you hail from?"
"Southern edge of Kothas." Kaz gave him the same story he had given the patrol. The innkeeper accepted it without question, then informed Kaz that he did indeed have a room the two could use. As an afterthought, the stout minotaur asked, "Do kender make good slaves? I can't imagine a thieving little rat like that being good for anything."
"He's adequate. But when I return home, he is going to have to start learning more duties in the stable."
It was clear that the notion of a kender slave appealed to the innkeeper. "If you have trained him to be useful, I might be interested in taking the kender off your hands…"
"I doubt I'll sell him just yet, but I'll keep that in mind."
And if you even touch him while I'm here, Kaz thought, I'll see that you won't have a hand left to beat any slave.
The innkeeper introduced himself as Kraggor. Kraggor, no warrior, obviously, commanded little respect in the eyes of other minotaurs. He served a function and was tolerated, but was low in rank. It was a wonder he had survived the war. A slave, however, would have to treat him as if he were the emperor. Kaz did not doubt that if he left Delbin alone at the inn, Kraggor would try to get the kender for himself. In the stables, Kaz informed Delbin that he had better come with him on his mission. Delbin, of course, was happy to be allowed to tag along, but Kaz wished there were some less dangerous option.
The pair drew stares as they walked the city streets, with most minotaurs reacting either curiously or indifferently to the sight of a kender slave. A few looked at the duo with mild disgust, but nobody interfered with them or treated them rudely.
Nightfall was almost upon them. Kaz wanted to reacquaint himself with some of the nearby areas. It might prove necessary to make a quick, unplanned escape at some point.
"Stick close to me, Delbin," he muttered. "And remember to keep quiet." Sooner or later he was certain Delbin would revert to his old kender mischief.
Memories continued to rise from the depths, memories concerning every aspect of his life. Some small children were playing sticks, a game in which one tried to trick one's opponent into losing his or her staff. It was a precursor to the real training that would begin soon for these future warriors. Sticks had determined moves and certain areas of the staff could not be touched without a point going against the attacker. Children were encouraged to play this and other competitive games from the moment they could walk. Kaz noted the hierarchy already developing among the stick players. He saw one with great potential and two who might also become champions of esteem.
Kaz and Delbin entered a market still busy with bartering. If there was one constant in the world, it was the market-place. Watching his people argue over the price of a new sword or fresh game, Kaz had no trouble envisioning humans in the same milieu doing the same thing with the same sort of gestures and words. He was probably one of the few of his kind who had come to realize just how similar the varied races were. In an ideal world, minotaurs, humans, elves, and the others would live on an equal basis, respecting one another's place in the scheme of things.
He snorted, knowing full well that such a world would be long in coming… if it ever came. The minotaur race was proof enough of that, although they were certainly not the only ones to be faulted.
"Master?" Delbin called, smothering a giggle.
"What is it?"
"That minotaur over there's watching you." To his credit, the kender was subtle about pointing.
"Hmm?" He looked around and let his gaze cross over to where his companion had indicated. He saw no one who looked either familiar or suspicious.
"He's gone," Delbin said, keeping his voice low. "But he was watching you, K-Master."
"You did well. Let me know if you see him again."
They continued through the market, then entered an.area where woodworkers and smiths worked. The smiths were especially busy. By now their counterparts in most human or dwarven cities would be slowing down and preparing to close up for the evening. Here, however, the activity was so great that it was clear there was no intention of quitting until much later in the night. Kaz eyed the activity with some interest. In the days of the war, the smiths had been very productive, as had the shipwrights and others with similar or related occupations. Now, almost a decade after the end of the great conflict, they were working as if war still prevailed.
Now that is interesting, he mused. Working under war conditions when there is no war.
Some of the minotaurs glanced up from their work as he and Delbin passed, but Kaz paid them little mind, caught up as he was in the question of just what his people were doing. Like all minotaurs, he knew that the emperor-all the emperors-preached for the day of dominion. The smiths, the shipbuilders, were always busy, but now they worked as if the war of destiny had been launched at last and someone had forgotten to tell Kaz.
Kaz stumbled, disbelieving. Despite the rumors he had heard from those joining his settlement, he could scarcely believe that the emperor, the circle, and the high priest could be that foolish. A war so soon after the other had just ended? Even with all it had accomplished since the end of the last war, his race had barely recovered. The effects of the Dark Queen's drive for power would be with it-with all the races-for more than a generation.
His thoughts ever more fixed on the subject, Kaz did not notice the three minotaurs who looked him over, whispered to one another, then continued to stare long after most of the others had returned to their tasks. He became aware of them only a few streets and several minutes later, when the leader of the trio took hold of Kaz by the shoulder and spun him around.
The leader had a short, blunt muzzle, mud-colored fur that was thinning in some places, and red eyes that grew redder as he stared at Kaz. "It is you! I had to follow you to make sure! I couldn't let you slip away again!"
"Who-?" began Kaz, but then he, in turn, recognized the minotaur's face. The name escaped him, but he remembered the face from the circus. He also recalled a vicious temper combined with poor fighting skills that chiefly relied on brute strength.
"It's Angrus, Sargas take you! Angrus!" The bull snorted in rage. His two companions grinned.
Angrus. That was the name. Memories stirred. Twice in Kaz's early days in the arena, Angrus had faced him; twice Kaz had humiliated him with easy victories. Kaz had thought little about it, but Angrus, who appeared to have risen not much further in all these years, had evidently spent his whole life nursing a grudge against the minotaur he believed had humiliated him. Rising to Supreme Champion had left Kaz with more than one venomous rival, such as the more skilled Scum. What little Kaz recalled of the minotaur before him included the.fact that Angrus was a stupid brute who could never accept blame for his shortcomings, admittedly a trait common to his people. There were always those in the arenas who saw their defeats as the fault of others who had triumphed simply because they used-
"Tricks! You used tricks against me instead of fighting honorably! Thanks to you, I lost face."
"Which, by this time, you should've found again," Kaz returned. "I can't be responsible for what has happened to you in the meantime." He made to go, but Angrus spun him around again.
"I should've been supreme champion, not you! I wouldn't have run away like you did!"
"Let me go, Angrus. I've no quarrel with you."
"But I have a quarrel with you!"
"Then I'll settle it with you in an arena after I'm through with the business that brough
t me here." It was a lie, but Kaz hoped that Angrus would be stupid enough to accept it.
"I can't go back to an arena!" the red-eyed minotaur snarled. "You did that! They won't let me compete in the circus or any other arena!"
Kaz had no idea what his old adversary was talking about, but some vague memory of cheating and dishonorable conduct in the arena did come to mind. He did not recall the details. He wasn't even fighting that day, as he recalled. But somehow Angrus had decided that the second incident was also Kaz's fault. Minotaurs could be very single-minded. "Angrus-"
A fist struck Kaz in the stomach. He bent over, grunting. A knee caught him in the chin and sent him stumbling back.
"Stop that!" called a voice that he recognized as Delbin's. "You leave him alone! He's my friend!"
Don't get involved, Delbin! he wanted to shout, but he couldn't do more than grunt when Angrus took the kender roughly by the arm.
"What's this? A kender slave?" Angrus laughed, a sinister, hacking noise.
A still groggy Kaz leaned forward and bowled into Angrus, who lost his grip on Delbin. Unfortunately, Kaz's charge was not as overpowering as he had hoped. Angrus, his hands freed, grabbed hold of him and held him tight, keeping Kaz's horns away. At the same time, the other two minotaurs seized Kaz by the arms.
"No tricks this time!" growled Angrus. "Just strength… my strength!"
He punched Kaz again. Kaz tried to roll with the blow, but it was not possible. The blow left him almost bereft of his senses.
"You shouldn't have done that, lads!" announced a new voice, one that was strangely familiar to Kaz even in his present state.
The minotaur holding his left arm suddenly released his grip. Kaz pulled himself together and took full advantage of his partial freedom, spinning and punching Angrus's companion under the jaw. The minotaur went flying backward, landing hard on his back.
The newcomer was battling the third minotaur behind him, but Kaz had no time to even glance at his rescuer. He faced Angrus, who seemed just slightly less confident now. "A minotaur fights with honor and skill, Angrus. You've got neither. You've got brute strength and no honor at all. I wasn't responsible for your cheating. You're no warrior, Angrus. You're a disgrace to our people."
Angrus threw himself on Kaz. The power behind his attack gave him a momentary advantage. Kaz, however, used a maneuver that Huma had once shown him, slipping free of his adversary's grip. He then caught Angrus under the chin with his knuckles. Angrus grunted and stumbled back a step or two.
Kaz did not let up. He struck again, this time in the stomach, then swung again at Angrus's chin.
Angrus crumpled as easily as he had those many years before.
Behind Kaz, another body hit the street. He turned and saw the last of the trio lying on his side, groaning. The other minotaur towered over his fallen foe, but his back was turned, making it impossible for Kaz to identify his savior.
"You did it, Kaz!" The kender gave him a quick hug of congratulations. "I thought they had you until he came along, but all you needed was a little help. And I was the first to pitch in."
"Thank you for trying to defend me, Delbin," Kaz said, interrupting before the kender could begin a much too lengthy rendition of the struggle. "You should've run off, though. They would've killed you. You understand that?"
The kender quieted. "Yes, Kaz."
"Now that's something I'd never thought I'd have heard from you, Lad. Not as wild and proud as you once were."
Again the voice was familiar, but Kaz could not place it. He looked up and studied the face of the minotaur who had rescued him. It was older than his by many years. He could see that years at sea had weather-worn his features, though his eyes were still lively. In his prime the older minotaur would have had the form of a champion, and Kaz could only hope he would look as strong should he be fortunate enough to live to such an age.
"I thought it was you, Lad, but I could scarcely believe my luck. Have I changed so much you don't recognize me? I suppose a few years lost at sea did make some changes."
Lost at sea? Now that he looked closer at his rescuer, the features looked really familiar. If he removed several of the lines on the face, darkened the fur, which was partially gray by now, and managed to straighten the back a little…
"Paladine's sword!"
"Not a name I'd go shouting, Lad," warned the other. "The sons of Sargas don't take kindly to competition. They don't even like putting up with Kiri-Jolith… something they still seem to blame on me."
It was impossible for Kaz to believe that the figure before him was still alive. Few ever escaped the raging sea, but if anyone could have… "Father?"
"That's exactly what your brothers and sisters said, in the same tone yet." The older minotaur cracked a smile. "Aye, Ganth's back. The sea goddess hasn't got me just yet." The smile faded as he added, "But she took your mother willingly enough."
"Father?" Kaz repeated, unable to think of any other word to say.
"And I'll still be your father if you say it a third time, Lad. Now snap to and come with me. You and I have a few things to talk about, including a mutual friend who's in a lot of trouble for reasons I don't like to bandy about."
Delbin peered around Kaz, for the first time drawing the older minotaur's attention. "He's the one who was watching you before, Kaz!"
The graying mariner shook his head. "And we'll have to do something about this little one. By the beard of Kiri-Jolith, Son, you always found the most troublesome companions, you did." He took Kaz by the arm. "Come with me. I know as good a hiding place as any."
Still quite numb at the sudden reunion with his father, who wasn't dead after all, Kaz allowed the elder minotaur to guide him away. Ganth led them from the area, winding through the streets of Nethosak with a determination that finally stirred Kaz from his stupor. This was indeed his father, the famed mariner and explorer. Older, yes, and with a slight limp, but not much off his prime. Somehow he had survived Gladiator's destruction.
Except… only Ganth had returned, not Kyri as well.
"Here we are." Kaz's father brought them before a small dwelling. It was one of Clan Orilg's holdings, if the markings were to be credited. Orilg, being one of the major houses, had influence in all parts of the empire, but especially in the major cities of Nethosak and Morthosak. The major houses had holdings in various city sectors, places where business was transacted and members of the clan could retire when matters demanded.
We're more like humans than we think, Kaz mused, thanks to the years under the warlords' rule. The humans had impressed their values and interests on their slave-soldiers. Now, the drive for influence and profit was almost as great as the drive for war.
Two minotaurs flanked the entrance. Kaz recognized neither, but as young as the two warriors appeared, it was possible he had known them as children.
Neither said a word as Ganth and the others entered, though one warrior glanced skeptically at Delbin. Kaz and the kender were led through a short corridor to an antechamber.
"You're in need of some food, aren't you, lads?" When Kaz nodded, Ganth smiled and led them in a different direction. "Then it's the kitchen for us."
Kaz found himself smiling also. At times Ganth had been even less inclined to the ways of their people than he was. During the long years of enslavement to Crynus and the ogres, he had dared to protest the way his children were more or less taken from their parents so that they could be "properly" trained by approved minotaurs. For two years after, Gladiator had been sent on a deadly voyage. Another time, Ganth and his crew had actually been stripped of their vessel and put into ranks marching westward during the second great campaign toward Solamnia. Somehow, Ganth had persevered and recovered Gladiator again, only to be sent on another mission of great danger.
Now Gladiator was lost, along with Kyri, his mate.
"Dastrun gave me this 'prestigious' post when they brought me and three other survivors back two years ago." Ganth snorted as he led the pair to a simple bench
and table. "Should be something left to eat here." He banged his fist on the table. Moments later a young female, lithe and tawny, stepped out. Ganth did not wait for her to speak. "Give me whatever you can rustle up, lass, then you can go back to listening behind the door."
She gave him a disdainful look, but obeyed his commands. Her eyes lingered on the kender as she worked, and it was not until she vanished through the doorway again that Kaz felt comfortable.
"Dastrun's patriarch of the clan now," Ganth commented as he tore apart a piece of dry bread. "Master Hestrith died a year ago, but Dastrun was running things before that, I've heard. When Hestrith passed away, the emperor stepped in and said that, due to the course our people were taking, it was necessary for him to appoint a patriarch with the vitality and dedication needed to help see that course to the end. The high priest and the circle sanctioned the appointment, and that was that."
"The emperor chose Dastrun? As our new patriarch?" As with the emperor, the patriarch of the clan-who could also be a matriarch should a female achieve the position- was chosen by rite of combat. A council of elders in the clan usually approved any such match. Emperors had never dared interfere with such important clan matters.
"The high priest and the circle sanctioned it. That was that. No one protested. They were too shocked, I think."
Dastrun was a cousin of Ganth's. Dastrun and his ilk were more supportive of the emperor and the Supreme Circle than Ganth and his family had ever been. Many years ago, Hestrith had hinted that he would have preferred giving up his position to one of Ganth's line, but after Kaz and his father had disappeared, it was inevitable that Dastrun would succeed the patriarch. Dastrun was a clan champion whose ranking was exceeded only by that achieved by Kaz. His claim to the leadership of the clan was legitimate, but there should have been more debate and the ritual of combat. That was how it was done.
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