Land of the Minotaurs

by Richard A. Knaak

  “We’ll have to keep a careful eye out when we get to the other side,” Ganth called. “Or we might find ourselves running into the jaws of a meredrake!”

  A ram burst past Hecar, followed quickly by a pair of wolves that veered after their prey.

  A minotaur scream cut through the chaos. It made Kaz look around. Although he did not spot the unfortunate warrior, he did see something else … or perhaps “not see” was the better term. There was no sign of Polik or the representatives of the circle. Even Jopfer’s man, Merriq, was missing. No doubt he had been among the first to retreat.

  “Kaz! Watch it, Lad!” Ganth was suddenly in front of him, sword slashing downward.

  He backed away in surprise. His father tore past him. It was not an animal that threatened them, but a gladiator who had noticed them moving around and had elected to try to block their escape.

  The other warrior tried to spear him from the side. Fortunately, Ganth shoved the spear aside with his blade. The spear dug into the earth, jarring the would-be attacker. He pulled the long weapon out before Ganth could follow through, then retreated when he saw he would have to deal with all three minotaurs at once.

  “He’ll be back with some friends very soon, Lads. Mark my words!”

  “Then we’d better get out of here,” Hecar rejoined.

  Ahead of them, an arrow suddenly sprouted from the side of one of the female lions. The lion stumbled, fell, and managed to rise again. Blood dripped from the wound, but she managed to stay on her feet. Archers began appearing on the walls. A second arrow caught the lion. This time she fell.

  “We’d better move faster! They’re getting organized!”

  They reached the entrance to the menagerie almost in time to collide headlong with a huge bull. Kaz wondered if the kender was purposely releasing them a few at a time to keep the melee going.

  “Inside!” Kaz called, hoping that Delbin had not released anything else along with the bull.

  The smell of many years of animal captivity made the trio recoil. Evidently there was a place that could smell worse than the prisoners’ cells. Smoke made it uncomfortable but not impossible to breathe in the underground region. There was no sign of fire yet.

  Two minotaurs lay crumpled on the floor of one cage. He scanned the rest of the room. The area was clear of threats. Several animals were shrieking in their cages, but most of the doors were open and the cages bare. The cause of the fire was a pile of baled hay that burned within one of the empty cages.

  “There’re still probably horses in the circus stables, Kaz,” called Hecar. “Do we take them or try on foot?”

  “On horseback we’ll be more noticeable,” called Ganth. “We’d be better off sneaking around on foot. The time to fight is later on.”

  “We can go this way,” Kaz said, indicating a wooden door slightly ajar. He and the other minotaurs started for it.

  Kaz wondered where the kender was. The brave little creature had a tendency to forget that he could be captured or killed … “I have to find Delbin.”

  “We’ve no time, Kaz,” Hecar protested. “It’s the will of Kiri-Jolith that we’ve gotten this far. We have to keep going. He’ll catch up.”

  “We’ve no idea what else the kender had in mind, Lad.” Ganth looked grim. “He might’ve figured that the animals and the fire weren’t enough.”

  Kaz stared off into the distance. “You two go on ahead. I have to find him.”

  “Lad, from what you’ve said about Delbin, why not wait until he just shows up again? His kind are clever when it comes to escaping.”

  “Because I can’t take the chance. He’s helped me too much in the past. I will not abandon a comrade. You two had better get going.”

  Before they could stop him, he was already out the doorway.

  Delbin hid behind the door as three minotaurs raced past to stop his latest fire. He was proud of himself for what he had accomplished.

  He was not normally so adept at lighting fires, but he’d been assisted greatly by a strange bottle of oil he had discovered in his pouch. The bottle bore the mark of the circus, but Delbin could not fathom how it had found its way into his possession. Nevertheless, he had made good use of it. The torches positioned every now and then in the walls helped. Between the oil and the torches, Delbin had created some masterful blazes.

  That he might be captured was a thought that occasionally occurred to him, but Delbin did not worry too much. He already knew some neat places to hide and others that could serve as escape routes.

  One more. I should do one more. Kaz and the others might still need more time.

  Seeing no one in sight nearby, he slipped around and headed down the hall. This one corridor seemed to encompass the entire circus and had so far made it simple for him to move from one place to another. His size helped, of course. Someone as large as Kaz would not have been able to hide in such cramped places. Surely his minotaur friend would be proud of him.

  He saw his next potential target moments later. The corridor was still deserted, most of the minotaurs having either fled the threat of fire or fighting to subdue the animals outside. Delbin saw a wooden cart. He had no idea of its uses, save that it might be needed to haul things out of the circus. Remembering what most often had to be hauled out of the arena, Delbin made a face. That was a part of minotaur life he did not like. Then the kender started forward.

  “Well! Sargas watches over me this day!”

  Heavy hands clamped on to the small figure’s shoulders. He was drawn backward, then flipped around to face the source.

  It was a tall minotaur clad in a black-and-red robe that Delbin knew was the clothing of the clerics of the minotaur empire. He had seen them and knew something about their organization from Kaz, but this was the first time he had been so close to one.

  With the robed one were two warriors who looked similar to the ones who had captured Kaz. They each took hold of an arm and dragged the kender nearer to the cleric.

  “I am Merriq, representative of His Holiness, the high priest. You have an appointment with him. Resist and we shall drag you there. You cannot possibly escape.”

  “You let me go or you’ll be sorry!”

  The minotaurs laughed. Merriq, still smiling, said, “You are a kender, and a young one at that. You are next to nothing, and if it was not that the high priest himself requested your living presence, I would have you tossed into the arena to distract the beasts while our gladiators find and destroy your friends. They have not escaped, you know.”

  “You’re lying!” Despite saying that, Delbin was slightly shaken. Had Kaz and the others been captured?

  “The minotaur Hecar and the old one are the prisoners of the circus again.” Merriq steepled his hands as if in prayer. “The criminal Kaziganthi died fleeing in dishonor from a meredrake that eventually bit him in two.”

  Delbin reacted without thinking, with the same temper that had caused him so much trouble among his own kind. Both Merriq and the guards seemed a little startled by his vehemence. Having no weapon in his hands, Delbin threw the only thing he had, the bottle of oil.

  The bottle broke against the cleric’s chest, splattering him with oil and fragments. The minotaur growled and stumbled backward, trying to rub his injured eyes.

  Delbin squirmed out of the guards’ grips, but collided with the cleric, who could not see.

  Losing his balance, the blinded Merriq fell against one of the lit torches, which fell free. Flame from the torch grazed his robe, and the screaming cleric burst into flames. The oil helped to create an inferno that quickly spread over most of the minotaur’s body.

  One of the guards seized Delbin. The other tried to aid Merriq, but it was too late. The cleric collapsed. More guards began to arrive.

  A guard behind Delbin struck him on the head with the hilt of a dagger and sent the kender to the floor, his thoughts reeling. Delbin tried to rise, but the world went crazy, refusing to settle down. At last, unable to struggle further, the kender collaps
ed.

  Oddly, he did not black out. Instead, Delbin found himself standing by a mountaintop, with the man in gray beside him. They looked out onto a landscape covered in great part by a city. Nethosak, to be exact.

  “The road is harsh. I’m sorry about that,” murmured the gray man. “But the balance must be maintained. I swore by Lunitari, Solinari, and Nuitari that I would see to it. I have yet to be released from that oath. I will do what I can for Kaz. I promise you that, young Delbin.”

  “I don’t understand,” the small figure said, looking at the robed man.

  “Neither did Huma of the Lance, but he fulfilled his destiny. This is all about destiny, Young One. Yours and that of the entire minotaur race, who deserve better and worse than they’ve received these past centuries, Kaz especially. Destiny demands the balance, though.”

  Delbin understood even less now. He started to open his mouth, but then a roar echoed through the city below. It was a terrible roar, as if some great leviathan had just awakened in a foul mood.

  The gray man shook his head. When the roar died down, he smiled sadly and added, “It is almost time, I’d say. Wouldn’t you?”

  Chapter 11

  A Kender Captured

  ———

  Kaz caught sight of the soldiers as they were carrying Delbin’s limp form out of the corridor and into the streets. The high priest wanted Delbin alive and unharmed, which meant that at the most the minotaur’s friend was unconscious. Still, he intended the captors to pay for what they had done.

  The corridor smelled of fire, smoke, and some other odor that made the minotaur’s nostrils twitch. He started after the guards. He had to stop them before they left the shadow of the arena. Anywhere else, and an attack would be too conspicuous. The other minotaurs, busy with their charge, did not notice as he slipped out the entrance after them. Kaz counted only two. A good number. Two he could take with ease.

  He was suddenly seized by strong arms that tore the axe from his grip, secured him, and covered his muzzle before he could speak. The minotaurs with the kender did not even notice the swift and silent scuffle behind them. There was no one now who could save Delbin from becoming the high priest’s prisoner.

  A hard female voice whispered in his ear, “Kaziganthi, you are summoned before your patriarch.”

  Patriarch?

  He had been captured by his own clan? Kaz felt like a fool. Of course they would have been in the audience. Possibly even the patriarch himself.

  “Give your word of honor and we shall let you walk. Refuse and we shall be forced to bind you hand and foot and drag you. We haven’t much time, so you’d better make up your mind fast.”

  She meant what she said, especially about dragging Kaz. The clan of Orilg did not make empty threats. Kaz quickly nodded.

  The minotaurs relaxed their grips, though at least one blade grazed his back. Kaz glanced around him. The others were all young, strong, and lean. He could have taken two, possibly three captors, but the clan had surrounded him with six, which was something of an honor, he supposed.

  Able to speak again, Kaz said, “Listen to me! There is a kender with those two! It’s important that we rescue him! The high priest must not get his hands on that—”

  “We’ve orders concerning only you, Kaziganthi. The patriarch saw you flee the arena and desires to speak to you.”

  “The kender is my—”

  “Your word’s been given. Resist and we’ll have to act accordingly, Kaziganthi.”

  He had no real choice. Kaz glanced at the receding figures. It was already too late. The State Guard had carried Delbin off into the crowds. It was fortunate that only his clan had so far caught up with Kaz.

  I’ll get you out, Delbin, he silently promised. I’ll teach Jopfer to regret his scheming.

  Another thought occurred to him. Ganth and the others. As far as he knew, they were still inside. He turned back to the female. “The others—”

  “We’ve been ordered only to bring you. Now move on before someone notices who you are. If they recognize you, we can’t help you.”

  He almost laughed. He had escaped, only to be captured just outside the circus. Now not only was Delbin lost to him, but so were the others.

  “All right, then,” Kaz growled. “Let’s go see old Dastrun. Maybe it is time I had a few words with him.”

  For the first time, he managed to disconcert the female. He could tell by her expression. Looking at the others, she commanded, “Keep an eye on him at all times, but make it look casual.” To Kaz she added, “Don’t fight us, Kaziganthi. We are clan, remember.”

  “Does Dastrun remember that?”

  There was no reply. The female started off, as did the others. It made for a long and sobering march to the clan house.

  “So this is how you spread the glory of Clan Orilg,” Dastrun commented.

  Kaz had always recalled Dastrun as a wiry sort, and in the years since he had last seen the elder minotaur, Dastrun had grown even more wiry, almost emaciated. His fur was nearly white. Yet there was strength in those limbs and voice, despite the signs of old age. He had to admit that the robed figure seated on the chair was very much the image of a clan patriarch. He even might have respected Dastrun despite their differences if only the patriarch had not been chosen for his position by the emperor, possibly at the high priest’s urging.

  The patriarch was seated on a high-backed throne placed at the top of a short dais. Seated on each side of the huge chamber to which Kaz had been brought were other elders of the clan. Standing along the walls were guards. Kaz and his captors were the only others in the meeting hall. Dastrun was trying keep Kaz’s presence a secret as long as was possible. Whether that strategy would succeed, the prisoner could not say.

  “No, this is how I try to live,” Kaz finally remarked. “This is how I uphold the honor of Orilg.”

  Dastrun sighed. “The same old Kaz. You were always one who would not bend when it was best to do so. Your sense of honor, your personal sense of honor, was always more important than the good of the clan.”

  Kaz stared at the minotaurs gathered in the chamber. Most of them he recognized as followers of Dastrun. Some, he was pleased to see, were from parts of the clan that would never, ever, accept the elder as a legitimate patriarch. In their eyes, there were some traditions that should not have been flouted.

  “All I ask is to be left alone.”

  “You were left alone.”

  “Only when it was convenient, Dastrun. Only when it was convenient.”

  The patriarch waved the matter away. “I came to the arena to see if you would at least die with your honor intact. You could not even do that. When I saw that you intended to flee, I commanded Fliara to keep watch for you. I knew she would understand your thinking.”

  “Fliara?” Kaz froze, then slowly turned to study the younger female. “Fliara?”

  Her acknowledgment was formal, nothing more. “Brother.”

  “Fliara.” She was his youngest sibling and had been little more than a baby when he had last seen her. Fliara had often tagged along behind him, watching with great interest what her eldest brother did. Now she seemed not to care. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

  “The patriarch had commanded me not to reveal myself unless you recognized me.” If she felt any emotion, it was well concealed by her indifferent expression. “You did not.”

  She looked away as she finished speaking.

  “Our father was back there.”

  Her eyes darted to Dastrun, then to Kaz. With clipped words, Fliara quietly said, “I know.”

  “Fliara understands that her duty to the clan outweighs all else. Family is important, as Sargas teaches, but it must not be forgotten that the clan is the greatest of our families. One individual may be lost, but the integrity of the clan must be maintained. Without it, all that has been built since Orilg became patriarch will collapse.”

  Kaz found himself wondering if Dastrun knew about the clan-in-the-making Kazi
ganthi. What would the elder say about that?

  “I’ve striven to keep Orilg strong. You’ve not been here much the past decade.” The tone was almost accusatory. “Things have changed, especially in the past couple of years. Attitudes have changed. The way things are done has changed. To survive and prosper, Orilg has had to make some changes, too.”

  “Yes, I’ve noticed,” Kaz commented, purposely ignoring the look of disapproval on Dastrun’s features. One simply did not interrupt the patriarch. It just was not done. “Some traditions change as well, things like how the young are trained, what honor means, and how those who rule are chosen.”

  “I could have turned you directly over to the State Guard,” the patriarch pointed out, still angry at being interrupted. “It is what my duty to the glorious minotaur empire demands.”

  “Should we leave now, then? Since I’m going to be handed over to them when you’re done trying to excuse yourself, we may as well get going.”

  Dastrun started to rise. “You impudent—” Then his anger suddenly dissipated, leaving an older, world-weary figure who looked away and sighed deeply in frustration. Kaz actually found himself sympathizing, briefly, with this vulnerable Dastrun behind the mask.

  “Tell him what’s been decided, Dastrun,” said a clan elder on one side of the chamber. Kaz peered curiously at the new speaker, vaguely recognizing the squat, wrinkled visage as a former tutor of his, a sword master. He was still formidable, though lacking one arm.

  “I will, I will.” Regaining some of his composure, the patriarch eyed Kaz. “There’s been some … discussion, concerning how best to deal with your presence—”

  “Send me home.”

  “That would not be easy. Kaziganthi, you don’t realize just what you’ve become here. You don’t realize that you’ve become a symbol. You don’t realize just how many stories of your … recklessness … have reached Nethosak. Most of the stories are sheer nonsense, of course …”