Land of the Minotaurs

by Richard A. Knaak

  “It was that axe! He had better magic!” insisted Tosher. “We would’ve had him if he hadn’t had the axe! We didn’t know we’d be facing that!”

  “I grant that, at least. My sources were remiss. You did not know about the magic axe.” Reaching up, the narrow figure pulled back his hood. “That does not excuse your failure. As things stand, Kaziganthi de-Orilg will no doubt make his way into the empire and thereafter make known his presence to others.” He shook his head. “This makes my work far more complicated than it should have been. There is no room in my empire for such ineptitude as you two have exhibited.” The high priest’s eyes flared. “No room at all …”

  A bell summoned the acolyte to the high priest’s chambers only moments later. He entered the sanctum of his master, but paused just inside the door. The high priest sat at his desk, hand on chin in contemplation. Of the two hunters who had been waiting, there was no immediate sign.

  “Come forward.”

  The acolyte obeyed, but as he stepped toward the dais, his foot kicked something. He glanced down and saw that it was a hand, half-wrapped in bloody bandages. Nearby was what looked like a foot and the hilt of a sword. The rest of the body was missing.

  Trying to ignore the grisly sight, the acolyte stepped past it, then knelt before his master and awaited his command.

  “There is a Captain Scurn of the State Guard. Send for him. I have questions I would ask that I believe he might be able to answer.”

  “Yes, Holiness.”

  “And remove that refuse on your way out.”

  The acolyte rose and obeyed. The high priest watched, then, when the acolyte had departed, went back to his contemplations.

  “I have waited too long,” he muttered. “I have waited too long to be delayed by one fool of a minotaur. When you return to my empire, Kaziganthi, you will have a choice. Join my grand plan … or be buried by it.”

  Chapter 6

  A Surprise Reunion

  ———

  Nethosak.

  Kaz found himself at its great walls so soon after passing its counterpart to the south that he almost wondered if the twin kingdoms had moved closer in his absence. He knew that the populations of Mithas and Kothas had multiplied and that Nethosak, as the seat of power, had grown even faster, though it was hard to believe that so much growth had occurred in the short time since the war. Even for a people as driven as his own, the changes were astounding.

  Delbin was utterly fascinated by the city, so much so that he tended to forget that he was supposed to be a slave. Delbin’s supposed status as slave made it impossible for the kender to ask all of the questions flitting through his head, so Kaz tried to anticipate some of them to prevent Delbin from blurting everything out.

  “See that building far over there … toward the center, slave?” Kaz asked, pointing at a tall structure with an arched roof. “That’s the emperor’s palace. Looks a lot like these buildings flanking us only much larger. These are houses of the lesser clans. The great clans are more to the north end of the city, though they’ve got a lot of influence down here, too.” Kaz then pointed out the temple of the state priesthood and the plain, boxlike building that was the quarters of the Supreme Circle. Kaz explained what each of the two groups was, then concluded, “Know them well, slave, for they decide life and death for all and are to be respected, especially by your inferior kind. It’ll be they, under the emperor, who decide the fates of all others when we come to rule this world.”

  The rhetoric sounded hollow to Kaz, but he knew how much most of the minotaurs eavesdropping on them believed in it. Such notions were implanted in minotaur minds at an early age, and while those notions did not always sit well with a few, most of his people were well-indoctrinated through the efforts of the priesthood and the circle.

  They passed through an area consisting of a number of the functional but hardly appealing domiciles in which the lowest-ranking minotaurs lived. The air was ripe here, and the structures, while not as decrepit as such neighborhoods in a human city, were dirty and needed repair. Only the streets, whose conditions were monitored by the government, were typical of the order and tidiness for which his race was famed.

  As he rode slowly through the well-kept streets into more respectable and pristine sectors, Kaz experienced an involuntary shiver. He was not frightened, but being here unsettled him. Memories of his family, his years in the arena, his combat training, and battles as a slave-soldier serving the likes of ogres and dishonorable humans, all washed over him at once. Now and then, Kaz felt certain that he saw a face he recognized, but he never once stopped to talk to anyone. Someone was bound to notice him before long, but until that happened, he preferred to keep his anonymity.

  He debated whether or not to go straight to the great clan house of Orilg and present himself, but in the end decided to delay. Having more or less severed his ties with the clan meant he should make his base at an inn, one that would tolerate his kender “slave.”

  A small figure darted past his horse, and Kaz’s first thought was that Delbin was running amok in the city. Then he saw that the small figure was squat and dirty, a gully dwarf with a collar, a true slave.

  It was all he could do to refrain from showing his disgust. If the minotaurs were using gully dwarves to pick up trash, then a kender trained to care for his horse and belongings would almost seem a logical progression—or illogical, Kaz thought wryly.

  The buildings grew neater and more stylish as he rode, a sign that they were owned by high-ranking minotaurs. The nearer to the circus and the emperor’s palace, the better the quality of life in Nethosak. North of the circus were the major land holdings of the great houses and the clans considered among the most powerful in the kingdom … as well as the entire empire. Everyone worked to achieve movement in a northerly direction. Even the lesser clans, whose houses lay in the southern sector, coveted those in the northern neighborhoods. Orilg was one of the first, oldest, and largest clans to have built its domain north of the circus.

  The eastern part of the city was near the harbor. After riding through crowded streets for nearly half an hour, then turning and riding east for an equal time, Kaz came across an area of Nethosak that he expected would suit his needs. An inn with the colorful title “The Bloody Axe” seemed the best choice. It was out of the way and looked like the type of place that would respect his privacy … for a price.

  As Kaz dismounted, Delbin, who had been a true stalwart for hours, quietly asked, “Kaz, what’s that?”

  The minotaur glanced in the direction the kender was pointing and snorted bitterly. The huge arena that caught Delbin’s attention was unmistakable even from a distance. “The Great Circus, the arena where important matters of justice”—he said the last word with distaste, knowing how its definition had changed—“and honor are settled. All grievances and crimes are settled by combat, and the greatest of these takes place each day in the circus.” He looked around apprehensively, but no one was paying attention to him and his companion. “Now please be quiet, Delbin. You’re supposed to be a slave. Your life very much depends on it.”

  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 marketplace. 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 Scurn. 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 brought 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 a
s 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.