by Perrin, Don
“What of it, elf?” Huluk sneered.
The elf mocked the warrior. “What of it? I want you to attack me. You are an officer in this once oh-so-mighty army, aren’t you? I want to take the horns of an officer back to my fellow officers as a prize, so I want you to attack me.”
Huluk did not move.
The elf immediately to his rear loosed an arrow right into the minotaur’s buttocks. Huluk jumped straight up at the unexpected pain, howling like a wolf on a full-moon night.
The elves laughed. They were taunting their prey before killing it. They had forgotten about the human slave.
Silently, moving slowly and cautiously, Theros edged over to Hran’s grave. His shovel stood where he’d left it, plunged into the mud. Grabbing the shovel by the handle, he returned to Huluk’s side.
Huluk could barely stand; the pain of the arrow was maddening. He dropped his axe, grabbed the arrow sticking out of his rear and tried to pull it out.
The elf officer was highly amused. “What have we here? A little human slave come to aid his master with a weapon of the ages, the mighty shovel of Palanthas!” The elves laughed, enjoying the show being put on for their benefit.
Theros turned around in a circle, eyeing his foes, assessing his chances. They were zero and none. He turned back to the elf officer. He had not really regarded himself as a slave, even after all these years of captivity. After all, he had asked to come with the minotaurs. If they hadn’t been kind to him, at least they had never tortured him as he was sure these elves would. He wanted to be free, to be sure, but he wanted freedom on his own terms.
Theros stared into the elf officer’s eyes. “You have no honor, elf. If you did, you would fight me like a warrior.”
The elf officer laughed so hard he could barely stand. “Oh, I like this! A human slave is challenging me to personal combat. Very well, I will bring in the horns of a minotaur and the head of a human, too. All right, let him come forward. I will accept your challenge, human slave!”
The other elves backed off, but still kept their arrows trained on the wounded minotaur. Theros held the shovel with two hands and began to circle the elf officer. The elf drew his sword from a jewel-encrusted scabbard, its blade flashing in the day’s sunlight. The elf danced around Theros in a circle. As he circled the second time, he thrust.
The blow was so quick that Theros could not counter, could not parry. A gash opened on his upper arm. The blade gleamed and sang and gave Theros two more such cuts. Theros tried to lash out with the blade of his shovel, but the elf easily eluded him.
The show was most amusing, or so the elves thought. They laughed and jeered as the fight continued.
Theros knew the elf was only playing with him. At any moment, when the elf grew bored with the contest, he would sink his blade into Theros, who could do nothing to stop him.
Outmatched, Theros circled with the elf. He had a plan. The elf faked a chest thrust and sliced across the young man’s hip. Theros ignored the pain.
He lowered the shovel. The elf thought Theros was giving up. Instead, Theros scraped the shovel across the earth and upward, tossing dust and dirt into the elf’s face. The elf gasped, blinded. He dug his fists into his eyes, trying to clear them. Theros brought the butt end of the shovel up and smacked the elf squarely in the face. The elf fell over onto his back. His sword went flying through the air.
Theros stepped back. The sword landed on the roadway just off to his side. The elf sat up and shook his head, holding his broken nose between his fingers. The other elves brought their bows up, preparing to shoot the arrogant human.
“Stop! Lower your weapons!” the elf officer called in a tone more nasal than normal, due to his injury.
Theros planted the shovel into the ground. He picked up the elf’s sword, tested it in the air.
“It is truly a fine weapon, sir elf. The blade is perfectly balanced. I admire the craftsmanship.”
Theros handed the blade back to the officer, hilt first.
The elf paused, seemed on the verge of ordering his men to fire. Then, with a rueful smile and a shrug, the elf accepted the blade, clasping it in a bloody hand.
“You have bested an elf warrior of the Silver Birch Circle, young human, and you did it with a digging implement. You are a brave warrior and deserve to live. There has been enough killing this day.
“I release you. You may go where you will. We will not harm you.”
Theros looked at the officer, then back to the bloody, half-fainting minotaur. “I will accept your offer, but I will go only with my master.” He went to the minotaur’s side.
Huluk regarded Theros with amazement. Theros grabbed the shaft of the arrow with both hands, and yanked it out. Huluk gritted his teeth against the pain. The human helped the minotaur to his feet. The elves said nothing and did not hinder them. Theros picked up the warrior’s axe, and, with Huluk leaning on his shoulder, walked down the road, away from the field, away from the battle.
Neither looked back.
Chapter 10
Two miles was all that Huluk could manage. The road deteriorated into a cart track and the forest encroached on both sides, making the going difficult. The big minotaur finally collapsed. He had been walking, supporting himself on Theros’s shoulder, but the pain was too much. He lost consciousness and slumped to the ground.
Theros checked the minotaur’s wound. It was bleeding still, as were several of the cuts on his arms and torso.
“Damn. He can’t go any farther, but we’ve got to get off this road. And we need food and water,” Theros muttered to himself.
He left the minotaur where he lay, and went to explore the forest. Fifty feet from the track, Theros heard the sound of running water. Another twenty-five feet along he found a small stream. He bent to taste the water. He had forgotten about his own wounds. He was weak and light-headed and very nearly blacked out.
Dipping his hand into the small stream, he tasted the water. It was pure. Theros drank deeply.
Slowly, he rose, trying not to repeat the near-blackout. He looked around and found a small knoll where a great oak tree had fallen. Its roots formed a shield from the road, and gave easy access to the water.
Theros went back to the minotaur officer. Huluk hadn’t moved. His breathing was still strong, but he was unconscious. Nothing Theros did would rouse him. Finally, Theros clasped the minotaur by his two arms and began to drag the unconscious Huluk into the woods.
Theros stepped on a loose rock. It turned beneath his foot, pitching him backward. As he lay, smarting from the fall and disheartened by the day’s awful events, a shadow fell across him, blocking out the setting sun. Theros found himself staring straight up at the towering form of a minotaur warrior.
The minotaur put his axe head under Theros’s chin, and using the weapon, forced him to stumble to his feet. “So, little slave. I see you have done well for yourself. I suppose you think the elves will reward you for killing this officer.”
“I didn’t kill him! I was trying to help him!” Theros protested.
“Shut up, you useless excuse for a human. There was no justice on the field of battle today, but there will be justice here. Pray for Sargas to take you, as death is your next destination. Justice is served, human!”
The minotaur drew back with his axe, and swung. To Theros’s astonishment, the axe halted in midair. Instead, the warrior stumbled.
“Ah, Nevek,” growled Huluk, holding onto the haft of the axe. “I was wondering what had happened to you.”
Huluk slumped back against a tree, barely able to keep upright.
“But—but, sir,” Nevek cried. “I thought you were dead!”
“For an up-and-coming officer, you are not terribly observant. Next time check to see if I am breathing.”
Nevek shook his head. “Officer?”
Huluk laughed softly. “You are the second-in-command of this fine army of ours.” The strain was too much. He slid down the tree to the forest floor.
Still su
spicious, Nevek glanced at Theros. “Yes, sir. I see your point. But if I am an officer now, who is the army? This slave?”
Huluk looked up at Theros. “This slave taught me honor today, and he saved my life. It is wrong for a slave to teach a minotaur honor and so you should no longer be a slave. What is your name, human?”
“I am Theros, slave to—”
Huluk interrupted. “You are Theros, a free human currently in the employ of the mighty Third Army of the Minotaur Supreme Circle. Or should I say, you are the mighty Third Army of the Minotaur Supreme Circle.”
Theros was hesitant. “Do you mean it, sir? I am free?”
“You are free, Theros, and you are to be commended for your bravery and honor. Now, do I hear the sound of running water?”
Theros and Nevek hoisted the minotaur officer between the two of them, and Theros led them to his hiding spot. The sun was beginning to fall into the hills beyond the forest, casting long shadows.
They set Huluk down on the moss-covered side of the river. He started to peel off his armor and coverings, but the pain was too great. Nevek came over to help. The blood had encrusted around Huluk’s wound, and continued to seep out.
Together, the two minotaurs waded into the water. Nevek helped Huluk wash the minor wounds, then they did their best with the more serious wound. The slow-moving water grew red with the washing away of blood.
Theros remained on the river shore. He was searching for a way to start a fire. Without one this night, Huluk might die. Theros needed Huluk to go back to the coastal village to let authorities know that he, a senior officer in the military, had released Theros from servitude.
Theros couldn’t believe it. He was free. He thought he should be happy over this, was surprised to find out he wasn’t. What did freedom mean to the young man? It meant no one would take care of him anymore. No one would see to it that he was fed, clothed, had a bed at night. He was on his own. He shook his head.
There was work to be done. Nevek had brought two empty wineskins, a smoked hindquarter of pork meat, a hunting knife and a small tinderbox. The forest floor was littered with twigs and dried branches. Hran had taught Theros how to make a hearth that did not smoke much, and he used the lore to build his fire.
Dried leaves served as the kindling. Using the tinderbox, he started a small fire. Twigs, then small branches followed, until he had a little fire going. They had nothing to boil water in. There were wild onions and a few mushrooms around. They could have used the pork with the fungus and vegetables to make a small stew, but there was no pot.
Huluk and Nevek clambered out of the cool water and onto the shore. “How is the commander doing?” Theros asked.
Huluk collapsed beside the fire. He closed his eyes and he was shivering.
Nevek said in a low voice. “He is not well. There must be some infection. He may not live through the night.”
“Can’t we do something? Cauterize the wound or something?” Theros asked.
Nevek looked dubious. “I know that’s what we should do, but I have no idea how to do it. I do not have the experience.”
“When I was on board the ship, the second mate sometimes had to do it if there was a wounded warrior or injured slave,” Theros said. “All you do is heat a piece of metal until it is white-hot. Then you stick it in the wound. It burns the area around the wound, but kills the infection and closes the hole. I can get the fire hot enough and we can use your knife. I can’t do the surgery, though. I wouldn’t be able to hold him down when he starts to thrash. You could, though.”
Nevek’s eyes widened. “You want me to stick a searing hot knife into Huluk’s buttocks? He would kill me with his bare hands alone!”
“He’ll be dead if you don’t.”
Nevek nodded. It had to be done. The sky was turning a deep shade of red. The lower depths of the forest were becoming obscured in darkness. Night and its chill would soon be on them.
Theros dug a shallow pit with the hunting knife. He patted down the sides to make it smooth, then crawled to the stream’s edge to pick up small pebbles. He brought these back to line the bottom and sides of his pit. Then, he took two sticks and picked up the hottest burning embers, transferring them to the new firepit. Next, he built up the fire. Every so often, he would stop and blow on the fire, building its embers.
Theros showed Nevek how to keep the fire hot by blowing on it. He went back to the stream and cleaned the knife that he’d used to dig. It had to be used as the instrument of cauterization.
Nevek wrapped a wineskin strap over the knife’s handle. Theros inserted the knife into the fire. He kept the inner embers white-hot by blowing on them and shifting the coals, just as Hran had taught him.
It took nearly an hour for the knife to heat so that it glowed red on the outside and yellow in the center.
“It’s time,” Theros said. He glanced over at Huluk. “Fortunately, he’s unconscious.”
Nevek swallowed hard. He rolled Huluk onto his back. “I’ll do the burning, but you sit on Huluk’s head, between his horns. Don’t let him get up, or we’re both dead. Hold that burning brand above so that I can see what I’m doing.”
Theros sat on the minotaur’s head. Nevek picked up the white-hot knife and moved to the officer. He sat across the small of Huluk’s back. “Hold the brand higher. I can’t see.”
Theros did as he was told. Nevek struck.
Huluk woke with a howl, began to buck and thrash about. Theros held on for the wildest ride of his life. The brand went flying backward, falling on the forest floor. Theros held on to the two horns with all of his strength.
The sound of sizzling flesh, followed by a sickening smell, turned Theros’s stomach.
The smell dissipated. The thrashing stopped, ending in a groan. Theros stood up.
“How did it go?” he asked.
Nevek retrieved the brand, stomped out the tiny brush fire that it had started. He walked down to the creek edge and dropped the knife in. The sizzle indicated that the blade was still hot. He washed off his hands and face.
“I think it went all right. I sealed the wound, and it stopped bleeding. We should wash it out again, though.”
Theros agreed. He found his shirt that he had used to stem the bleeding earlier in the day. He washed it out thoroughly in the running stream, rubbing out the hardened bits of dirt and blood in the cloth.
Scooping water in the shirt, Theros went back to Huluk. The minotaur still lay as he had when they had finished. He had not moved. Theros cleaned around the wound and poured water into it, letting it drain. He then gently cleaned out the wound.
Nevek sat down, took out his axe and set it across his lap. “I’ll take the first watch. I’ll wake you in a couple of hours. You wake me when you can’t keep your eyes open anymore. I’ll take it from there to sunrise. I’m not good with humans—I can’t read your emotions or what you are trying to say under the surface of your words. But I do think that you need more sleep than I do right now.”
Theros nodded. He didn’t bother to respond. He pitched back onto the moss and fell asleep.
* * * * *
Nevek nudged him in the morning. The sun was rising over the trees and there was no sign of a cloud in the sky. Theros started. “You were supposed to wake me!”
“I know. I rested and was comfortable. I had no problem just sitting here. Huluk suggested I leave you to rest. He said you had earned it.”
“Huluk?” Theros looked back to where the minotaur had been lying. He was not there. Theros looked over to see the big minotaur washing in the stream.
“How is he?” Theros inquired.
Nevek nodded. “He is much better. He is not well, by any measure, but he is better than he was. I think his fever has broken. He awoke halfway through the night, sweating like a pig. I gave him some water. He felt better and went back to sleep.”
Theros breathed easier. It looked as if Huluk would survive. He was kneeling gingerly in the stream, cleaning his wound as best he could. Thero
s stripped off his trousers and went down to the stream to join the officer in a bath.
Huluk looked up. “Ah, it is the army! I see you are looking better than yesterday. I am glad to report that I am, too. My back end feels like it has been shot with an arrow, which it has, but it does not feel like it is on fire, which it did yesterday.
“Today we must make many miles. If I cannot keep up, Nevek will go ahead without us, to warn the village and send word to the Supreme Circle. You must help me. You will be my support.”
Theros nodded. “I understand, sir. We should eat and drink, then be on our way.”
Huluk agreed. Theros helped the wounded minotaur out of the water. They dried in the sun as they ate and prepared to move out. The road was four days’ march for an army. Nevek could probably make it in two. Theros and Huluk would take at least three.
By noon sun, it was clear that Huluk had overestimated his strength. They rested by the path in a glade and sparingly ate of the meat and drank from the water-filled wineskins.
Nevek was clearly nervous. Huluk regarded him with interest. “Are you looking around because you hear something I do not, or are you trying to figure out a way to tell me that I am too slow?”
Nevek avoided his superior officer’s eyes. “I am sorry, sir. I must abandon you here, by your own orders! I will send help back as soon as I arrive.”
Huluk nodded and grunted. “Yes, you must go. Now that you do not have us as a burden, you must hurry. Here.” Huluk handed the young warrior the rest of the meat, the full waterskin and the commander’s own axe. “Take these. We will find other food along the way. The axe is to prove that I still live, and that you have not deserted. Send help for me. I will not be stranded here on this damned elf-infested mainland!”
Nevek took the supplies, and left without another word. He broke into a run on the other side of the glade.
“Well, my army, are you ready to aid your commander for another few miles?” Huluk struggled to stand up.
Theros sprang to his feet to support the minotaur officer. They continued down the road.
