Land of the Minotaurs

by Richard A. Knaak

  “You may return to your bed.” The high priest turned away, his thoughts already elsewhere. The acolytes came up behind Polik.

  The day of destiny was to begin. The emperor could scarcely believe his luck. He had begun to wonder if the day would ever come. Jopfer was correct; it would be good to prove his right to rule just before the announcement. An imperial combat was definitely called for.

  As the acolytes led the emperor out of the temple, his thoughts turned again to how simple it would be to remove the one minotaur he feared … once the campaign was well underway, of course. There were those among the circle who would welcome Jopfer’s demise. From among them he would be able to find a capable assassin. Then, it would simply be a matter of timing. For all his power, there were limits to the high priest’s control. It would not be hard to kill him.

  After all, under the cloak of authority, Jopfer was just a minotaur like the rest of them.

  Chapter 15

  The Gray Man

  ———

  Ayasha did not like the reason Helati gave her for needing her to watch the children, but she understood. Helati did not want to spend time arguing. It was terrible enough pulling herself away from the infants. She felt like a negligent mother, but hoped that, if something happened to her, they would grow up understanding why. She had to try to bring their father back.

  This was her quest. The other minotaurs could fend for themselves.

  No one was in sight as, before dawn, she stepped out to saddle her mount. In a few minutes, she would be on her way, with no one but Ayasha and her mate knowing her secret. She had given Ayasha permission to let others know once she was far away.

  “You can’t be serious about riding there alone, can you?”

  Helati whirled about to find Brogan, his shoulder bandaged, standing a few yards behind her. He had moved so silently that neither she nor her mount had taken any notice of him. “What’re you doing here, Brogan? And why isn’t your wound healed? You are a cleric.”

  “My faith in Sargas has been … weak … of late. This is the best I could do. That’s not important, though.” He shrugged, changing the subject. “It’s strange. I had a dream a short bit ago, about a human. I’ve rarely seen humans, save in war, and certainly not one all dressed in gray … from top to bottom. It was a short, strange dream. He told me he could not stay long, but he wanted me to wake up and find you. The children needed you more since Kaz was gone. That was what he said. Then, I woke up.”

  His words were disconcerting, especially about this human in gray. “Just your own fears, Brogan. There’s nothing to the dream.”

  “But you’re leaving,” he pointed out. “And dream or not, I think you need to stay here.”

  “You were the one who wanted to gather an armed force and storm Nethosak … or was that a ploy at the time to get most of us back in the grip of the emperor?”

  His expression made her instantly regret the rash comment. “It was meant honestly. I’ve thought things over, Helati. Kaz was correct about a large force being more hindrance than help. That is even more true now. If we rode in to save Kaz, we’d be riding right into the high priest’s hands. The high priest is the one to watch, not old Polik.”

  “I can’t just sit and wait. Kaz may need help.”

  “He may be dead already,” Brogan returned bluntly. “I’m sorry to say that, but it could be true. Riding to Nethosak would then accomplish nothing except that you would share the same fate. Would Kaz want you to abandon the children?”

  “That’s not fair! You know I’m not simply abandoning them!”

  The one-horned minotaur dipped his head apologetically. “I said that badly, but you know what I mean. The children should be your primary concern now.”

  “And what about Kaz?”

  “He may return with your brother and the kender, all of them none the worse for their experiences. He may be a prisoner of the high priest. He may be dead. The point is, you must stay here and wait.”

  “Who can I ask to go in my place? This concerns my mate and my brother. Should I be any less than Tremoc? He journeyed over Ansalon time and time again, tracking down the murderer of his own mate.”

  “Tremoc was Tremoc, and although his legend has much merit, it shouldn’t be the basis for this decision. Besides, you don’t have to go to Nethosak yourself. There is another way to find out what’s going on, Mistress Helati.”

  “What do you mean?” She eyed the other minotaur. “What other method could there possibly be?”

  Brogan looked away. He seemed ashamed. “I have … a swifter way to contact Nethosak, swifter even than if we had messenger birds to use. Something I brought with me as an emergency measure.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

  “A small medallion. I purchased it from a black-robed mage during the war, when I often needed to go places where I could not use my own powers without being noticed by a cleric of Paladine. It can contact anyone in Nethosak, but only for a short time. It turned out I never used it. I brought it with me, though. It should still work.”

  “Can I use it?”

  “It’s attuned to me, but … perhaps. I’d rather not explain a lot about it.… It’s not something I’m proud of now.” He spread his hands. “You must believe me, Helati! I would not lie to you about this. I never thought to use it since I planned to abandon my former allegiances, but now the opportunity and the need demand it.”

  Helati thought over his words carefully, then nodded. “All right, but let us both try it together.”

  Brogan agreed. They returned to his dwelling, where he moved aside a small chest.

  “I was looking at it when you came. You see, I was already contemplating contacting someone I know back there.” The one-horned minotaur pulled out a small silver medallion with a blue crystal in the middle. There were markings on it, but Helati could not make them out. Brogan held the item cupped in one hand.

  “How does it work? I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  “It’s simple. I merely have to put my thumb on the crystal and my index finger directly opposite it on the other side of the medallion. Then I think of the location or person and close my eyes.” He gave Helati a grim smile. “It cost me quite a lot, but I felt a need for it at the time.”

  Indeed, there was much about his murky past that needed to be explained, but that was not important to her now. Helati moved nearer so that she could read the detail on the artifact. Her mind was racing. “Who did you plan to speak with earlier?”

  “I think there might be a few friends of mine who would still give me aid. I will try for them now.”

  “No, let me try. I have a better idea.”

  He looked at her, uncertain. Then, shrugging, Brogan handed her the artifact. “As I said, originally it was attuned to me.”

  “I have to try.” Thumb and index finger in place, Helati concentrated. She tried for Kaz, but for some reason, the great clan house of Orilg invaded her thoughts instead.

  “—to me—” began a voice.

  She was so startled, she broke contact.

  “What is it?”

  “You have no need to fear that it won’t work for me, Brogan.” Without waiting for his reply, Helati tried again.

  “—agreed to by him! There will be no further word on the subject!”

  Dastrun. She would know his voice anywhere. The spell was working.

  All at once, the voices were accompanied by an image. It was the chamber where Dastrun and the other elders held court, and they seemed to be arguing about something amongst themselves.

  “He knew the danger!” insisted Dastrun. “He made a pact! We abided by that, not even telling the guard where he had gone! That is the end of it!”

  “They are scheduled to die in the arena during some contrived ceremony,” pointed out an elder female. “They are to die for no good reason, Dastrun!”

  “It has been decreed—”

  “Decrees! We’re talking about honor and ju
stice, Patriarch!” called another voice.

  “The high priest has declared them heretics and traitors,” argued another, “especially Kaz!”

  Kaz. They were talking about Kaz. She had thought so. Then the patriarch spoke again. “He made his agreement. We will abide by it. The clan can gain nothing by dragging itself down with Kaz and the others. They will die in the circus, and that will be the end of it. Kaz is dead from this moment on. I have made my—”

  “No!” Everyone in the chamber looked up, seeking the source of the voice. Only after the echo had died away did Helati realize that she had spoken.

  “What in the name of Sargas?” muttered Dastrun.

  Recovering, she spoke again. “No, Dastrun, that won’t do.”

  “Who is that? Where are you?”

  “I’m Helati. Kaz’s partner and mate.”

  Many of the elders whispered to one another. The patriarch looked disconcerted. “Where are you hiding?”

  “I’m not hiding, Patriarch. I’ve been given a device that I used to find out what is happening to Kaz. Well, I’ve found out what I wanted to know, and I do not like it.”

  “Now, Helati—”

  She braced herself. Orilg was going to listen to her, Dastrun or no Dastrun. She had some things to say about loyalty and honor. She was going to make them listen—and act.

  Kaz had better not die, Helati thought. If Kaz died, she would make the clan pay dearly for its failure. There was a side to Helati she had never let her mate see … but Dastrun and the other elders were about to be reminded of why she had been nicknamed “The Terror” as a young warrior.

  Thinking of two infants waiting for their father to return, she started talking.

  The tap-tap-tap of the staff against the stone floor was the first thing that alerted Kaz to the presence of another in the cell. He opened his eyes slowly, wondering why he had not heard the door being unlocked or even being swung open. When his gaze focused on a pair of gray boots half-obscured by a robe of the same color, he tried to jerk himself to his feet. Unfortunately for Kaz, the chains did not allow him to move so freely. The only thing he succeeded in doing was nearly losing his balance and crashing back against the wall.

  The human in gray watched him in silence. He looked exactly as he had appeared in the dream, save that he was a little taller than Kaz recalled. The robed figure was, in fact, nearly as tall as the minotaur. It also occurred to Kaz that he could see the gray man clearly even though the torchlight from the hallway was still the only illumination available.

  “Another dream?” Kaz asked.

  “It is hard to tell sometimes, isn’t it?” The gray man smiled in sympathy. “Sometimes I find myself wondering whether I am awake or sleeping when I do this. This time, though, I would venture to say that it is the former. Yes, the former, not a dream.”

  “If you’ve something to say, you’d better say it before the guards come to drag you away.”

  The gray man glanced over his shoulders. “Oh, they can’t hear me, Kaz.”

  “Why am I not surprised? All right, then, what do you want this time?”

  A sigh escaped the robed human. He leaned on his staff. There was sorrow, great sorrow in his eyes. “I grieve for your loss, Kaz. I tried to predict what would happen, but I could only guess in the end. If I could truly see the future, it would be a terrible danger to Krynn, for I’d be tempted to alter one thing after another despite the agreement I made. That would only make matters worse, not better.”

  Kaz snorted. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, mage. You are a mage, aren’t you? Or are you a cleric of Gilean?”

  The questions seemed to amuse the gray figure. “You might say I’m the foremost mage in the world and perhaps, in my own way, an unofficial cleric of the God of Neutrality. I am certain my appearance makes you think the latter, though the color gray is more the mark of my agreement with the gods Solinari, Lunitari, and Nuitari. It is the way they assure that I will not forget my place, or my vow.” He shook his head bemusedly. “And they say the gods have no sense of humor. They have one. We just do not think their jests very funny.”

  “You still haven’t told me who you are or why you’re here.” Kaz was growing tired of the gray figure’s vague and confusing comments. “Why’ve you been haunting us? What’s all this talk of balance?”

  The staff went tap-tap-tap again. “So many questions, and so little I can answer. Your friend Huma was not half as questioning.”

  The minotaur’s eyes narrowed. “That’s where I know you from. I remember now! Huma said he met you before discovering the dragonlances!”

  “There was a world out of balance then. The dragonlances were needed to restore balance, and the knight Huma became the catalyst. He was the most worthy one we could find within the time still left to us, and he proved to be better than anyone could have hoped. There are similarities between the two of you, you know. That was why I decided to keep an eye on you. I knew that even with the war over, there was still a danger, an imbalance. It is a gift, or perhaps a curse, given to me. I can know what the threat is, but am limited as to what I can do.”

  “You knew the truth about our high priest?”

  “I discovered it. You have no idea what the presence of the two dragons means to Krynn, Kaz. The dragons, good and evil, were supposed to depart as part of the peace created among the gods. It was a pact of the highest magnitude. Yet, because one egg, the egg of a silver dragon, was lost, the entire pact could unravel. The egg meant a dragon stayed behind. In an attempt to effect some sort of balance, the world allowed for another dragon, one of evil nature, also to remain on Krynn. Unfortunately, it was the red called Infernus, one of the deadliest of the Dark Queen’s servants. You, already tied to this history, became our one hope.”

  “What do you mean, ‘already tied to this history’?” Kaz shifted uneasily. For some reason, he felt the gray man spoke the truth.

  The staff tapped against the floor again. “There was a mage who held a wounded dragon prisoner. He used threats to her eggs to force her to do his will …”

  Kaz’s head sank. “I remember. The dragons should’ve been gone. It was just after the war. She and her mate had not left because they wanted to get their eggs back, the ones Brenn the Black Robe had stolen.” He raised his head again and glared at the robed figure. “But Brenn fell victim to his own magic and, although the dragon perished, I brought her eggs to a place where her mate took them from me. They should be safe now, wherever they are!”

  “The male silver was also wounded. You recall that. Because of his wounds, Kaz, one slipped from him. It slipped when it began to hatch, although he could not have known that. He circled, but could not find it and assumed it had broken. That was not the case, however. Dragon young are hardier than other newborns. Dragon eggs are very sturdy, and the fall only cracked the egg and stunned the hatchling. When it finally woke and freed itself, it did not know where or what it was.”

  “Ty …?” Fate was laughing at Kaz again. That was the name of the young female’s father—the male silver.

  The gray man nodded. “The first intelligent creatures she saw, only days later, were humans, families moving on to new homes. Wanting to join, she reshaped herself without thinking. Although she was never with anyone long, the shape became so much safer to use that she soon forgot her birth form.”

  “All right!” snarled Kaz, growing weary of all of this. “So I’m tied to her past. That’s all. You didn’t have to involve me in all of this! I’m not responsible for what happened later.”

  “No, you are not. You were chosen, by me. The Dark Queen will use this situation. Everything for which you fought side-by-side with Huma of the Lance will be lost. We will return to endless war, with the outcome this time questionable.” The gray man sighed again. “Ansalon has not recovered sufficiently from the last war to suffer such another. I chose you because I believed you would understand that. I chose you because I believed you were the best hope there was of
returning Ansalon … and your own people … to its proper path.”

  “My father is dead … and I never wanted to be a hero.”

  Tap-tap-tap. “Kaziganthi de-Orilg, if I could, I would take your place, but I swore a vow to all three gods of magic, who, having removed themselves from the affairs of the others, have a vested interest of their own in maintaining the balance of the world … regardless of what their mages do. My power does not wane no matter which moon is dominant, but in return I must use care and I must always strive to help Ansalon, all of Krynn, remain in balance. I must guide others, and am never allowed to be the one who acts. Always it must be another.”

  Kaz was not certain that he agreed with, or even understood, everything the gray man said, but, in truth, he agreed that Ansalon could not endure a return to war. “Have you come to offer me a chance, then? Are you going to set me free and give me the means of facing Infernus?”

  “Do you wish it?”

  “Given a choice … yes.”

  “I have spoken to the young dragon. She will abide for now, but only because she is lost in her own mind. If you desire to help, to restore the balance, Kaz, there is one thing you must do, whether you perish or not. You must awaken the dragon within her.”

  Kaz grunted. “I thought Infernus was trying to do that already.”

  The gray man shook his head. “No, he seeks only to release the form and power of the young one to do his bidding. He seeks to twist the silver into his servant. If you hope for victory, you must awaken the true dragon. You must stir Tiberia to be what a silver dragon is meant to be. Only then can you possibly defeat the creature Infernus.”

  “I won’t be able to do anything as long as I’m like this,” Kaz retorted, indicating his chains with a rattle. “Are you planning on releasing me?”

  His ethereal companion looked away in what might have been outright embarrassment. “You will know when the time comes.” The staff tapped against the floor again. “The guard is stirring.”