Kaz the Minotaur

Chapter Twelve

He was standing in the center of the arena, un-armed. The crowd of minotaurs roared their respect and approval. Kaz acknowledged them by raising his fists high in the air and turning in a slow circle.

His prowess was such that no one thought him a fool to take on an armed opponent with only his bare hands. Rather, they saw it as the champion s way of evening the odds. If the challenger did defeat him, however, there would be no lack of honor in the victory. That he had challenged the champion, rather than working his way up in status first, indicated the challenger was either very brave or very foolish. That question would soon be settled.

The overlords-the “outsiders,” as they were called- watched with mild amusement from their special seats on the northern walls. They were ogre and human commanders, one of the latter an aide to the warlord Crynus, leader of the armies of Takhisis. The arena was only a pastime for them; they were here to inspect the new companies of “volunteers”-slave-soldiers, in reality. The ogres and humans were not officers so much as guards. Oaths bound the minotaurs to those who led them into battle, regardless of consequence. A minotaur who had given his oath would die for his ogre captain, or should, if he was a proper representative of his race.

Kaz and the crowd grew anxious as the moments passed. The champion was eager to claim yet another victory, one that would increase his standing. How long before the outsiders’ influence made him one of the ruling minotaurs? Not much longer, surely!

The gate opposite Kaz slowly creaked open. The minotaur readied himself. He wondered if he would know his challenger. Perhaps it was one of the younger ones, fresh from the training session that Kaz himself taught. No, none of them would be so foolish. Each had already been tested and found wanting. They needed some experience before they could hope to defeat their instructor.

Slowly a figure stepped into the arena. A hush fell over the crowd. The overlords leaned forward with interest.

A Knight of Solamnia stood before the crowd. A human against a minotaur. True, the knight had a long-sword, but he wore no armor and therefore had little protection against Kaz’s blows. The long mustache, characteristic of his kind, and the experienced manner in which the human carried himself spoke of a training as fierce in its own way as that of the minotaurs. Most definitely a Solamnic Knight.

The man walked toward Kaz. His face slowly came into focus. It seemed to press right up to the minotaur’s own. Kaz felt panic rush over him. Not this human! Not this knight!

Not Huma!

“It has to be this way, Kaz,” Huma explained calmly. He raised the sword, but instead of striking, he tossed it before the minotaur. “You carry no weapon; I will do the same.” The knight’s gray-streaked hair, an odd sight in one so young, fluttered in the wind.

Abruptly the face before Kaz was no longer Huma’s but that of the one whom he knew to be Galan Dracos. The long, almost reptilian face leered at him.

“Tell me your secrets, minotaur. What do you know of my power? What do you know of my sorcery?”

“No!” Without thinking, the minotaur lashed out with his left hand, striking the sorcerer’s face and twisting his neck at a sudden and improbable angle. Kaz’s adversary collapsed to the ground. “Sargas take you!” He cried out the name of the dark god of his youth. “I don’t know anything! Leave me be and haunt another!”

In horror, Kaz watched as the head of the corpse turned slowly to stare up at him. The face of Galan Dracos broke into a malevolent smile. “It is true. You do know nothing.”

The face had slowly dissolved back into Huma’s. There was a bitter look on the knight’s face, as if the minotaur had betrayed him.

Somehow that frightened Kaz as nothing else could. The world swam around and around, until he vaguely realized that this was a dream. A nightmare. As the dream ended, darkness began to seep in. Kaz tried to escape from the coming darkness, but could not. It clung to him, wrapping him as a cocoon wraps a caterpillar. He. prayed desperately for day to come, fearing for some reason that he would otherwise never awaken…

Daylight provided no relief from the nightmare. If anything, the utter emptiness of the keep proved even more overwhelming than the shadows or the nightmare.

In the darkness, there had been the comfort that one might be able to hide. In the dull light of yet another murky day, there was the reality that whatever waited for them did not fear the day, and in fact was no more visible in the light than it had been in the dark. A bodiless, omnipresent thing.

The bell had sounded twice so far this day. There was no set time; the bell ringer apparently acted whenever it suited his fancy-or perhaps it was the fancy of the Grand Master, if Argaen Ravenshadow’s tale was true.

The elf was nowhere in sight when Kaz rose reluctantly. Kaz moved slowly, his muscles sore. The floor of the room proved most uncomfortable for sleeping, but Argaen had said it was the best of bad choices. The library had not been designed for personal quarters. Kaz wondered where the elf was and what he was planning now.

Kaz jumped to his feet. Darius, already awake and performing some exercise ritual, paused as the minotaur turned to him. “Where’s Delbin?”

“I thought-” The knight glanced at the kender’s abandoned bedroll. “He was here when last I looked.”

“He’s a quiet one,” Kaz snarled. “I can’t say how many times he’s done this to me. I should be used to it by now, but I thought he’d exercise some common sense after what Ravenshadow told us last night.”

Tesela sat up, awakened by the talk. “Perhaps he’s with Argaen.”

“Maybe, but I very much doubt it.”

Darius glanced out the window, as if he expected to see the kender perched outside somewhere. He stared off toward the center of the keep. “Do you think that he would dare go to the Grand Master’s quarters? It would appeal to a kender to do something like that.”

“More likely the vaults below!” Kaz roared in anger, causing both humans to eye him with trepidation. He forced the anger down. “Just to be certain, we’ll make a quick search of the library.”

“For what?” Argaen’s calm voice floated from the hall. The elf entered, carrying a basket filled with bread, fruit, and drink. He deposited the basket on the table and faced Kaz. “What seems to be the difficulty, my friend?”

“Delbin. The kender. Have you seen him? Is he in the library?”

“Not that I know of. Kender are troublesome to keep track of…” Argaen’s voice trailed off. “Astra take me for a fool! I should have known better than to tell all in the presence of a kender, but I thought you had him under control.”

“No one controls a kender completely,” Kaz retorted sourly. “And no one would want to. The problem now is what we should do. He may have sneaked off to investigate the vaults of the Grand Master!”

“Vingaard has other places that would interest a kender,” Darius suggested.

“I’ve-Paladine forgive me! — ridden with that kender for several months. He’s gone to the vaults!”

‘This is most distressing,” Ravenshadow muttered. His mind seemed to be concentrating on some calculation. “Do you think he could actually break into those vaults?”

“Whether he can or not isn’t the point, elf! What is the point is that he could just as easily wind up on the end of a sword, if what you told us is true. Sane or mad, I doubt that the Knights of Solamnia have forgotten all their training.”

‘True. If anything, they have become even more fanatical. All in preparation for their imaginary foe, of course.”

“Master Ravenshadow,” interrupted Tesela, “how is it that you remain here? Why do the knights not disturb you?”

Argaen seemed annoyed and answered sharply, “I was an honored guest once. That thought seems to have remained with them all this time, although I have also done my best to remain unobtrusive. That is hardly a concern right at this moment. Gather your things and follow me! We must save your companion!”

The elf moved with such impatience that the others barely had the time to react. Darius was forced to leave his armor behind, taking only his shield and his sword. Kaz removed his battle-axe from its harness. As one, they followed after the swift-moving Argaen.

To their surprise, the elf did not leave the library immediately. Instead, he stood in the front hall and removed a blue crystal from his robes. While the others waited, he stared at it intently.

Something blurry formed in the center of the tiny sphere, but no one could make out what it was. Ravenshadow held the crystal before Kaz. “You know the kender better than anyone else. Think of him, concentrate on his location.”

“I dislike sorcery, elf,” Kaz snorted disdainfully. “It tends to be a treacherous, unpredictable path.”

‘This is hardly any such thing. Do you want to find your friend, or would you rather we searched the entire keep blindly?”

With a black look, Kaz took hold of the crystal and concentrated on his diminutive companion as best as he could. He recalled the nearly perpetual smile on the kender’s face, contrasted with the odd expression that had been haunting his companion of late. Delbin’s book came to mind and Kaz pictured him writing his latest adventure in it, an adventure that presently had the kender situated…

“There! You see?” Argaen cried.

Sure enough, the blurry image had been replaced by the crisp picture of Delbin. The kender was in a dark room lit only by a small candle. It did not appear to be the vaults, nor did it seem like part of the personal chambers of the Grand Master. The room was narrow and dusty, as if it had been unused for years.

“Where is he?” Kaz could hazard no guess from what he observed.

An unelflike laugh burst from the mouth of Argaen Ravenshadow. It was a laugh tinged with shock, relief, and something Kaz could not put his finger on.

“Do you know where he is?” Darius, anxious, finally demanded.

“He-he is in the library after all!” There was more animation in Ravenshadow’s visage than any of them had noticed so far. He was genuinely thrilled by his discovery. “Follow me!”

As seemed typical of the elf, Argaen turned and rushed off without giving the others a chance to collect their wits.

“Are all elves so quick?” Tesela asked testily. There were limits, apparently, to her kind, cleric soul.

Kaz refrained from replying, choosing instead to hurry after the rapidly diminishing figure of their benefactor.

They found the elf in a study room of the library, sprawled over a long, yellowed parchment that Kaz guessed was at least a century old. Argaen was nodding and chuckling, a wild sort of chuckle that disturbed the minotaur. Again he wondered how sane Ravenshadow truly was.

“Come see,” Argaen called out as they entered. Without looking up, he pointed at the center of the parchment. ‘This is a copy of the original design for this library. Your founder”-the elf glanced up briefly at Darius-”designed more than half of this… the secret half.”

“What?” The knight was completely at a loss to understand what Argaen meant.

“I do not know how your smaller southern keeps are diagrammed, but Vinas Solamnus wanted every building here to have one use other than the obvious one. He knew that Vingaard itself might come under siege and possibly even be broken into someday. Therefore, he had passages built inside the walls, wide enough for two men if they rubbed shoulders. Your kender friend has uncovered some of the passages in this building.”

“I’ve never heard of passages such as you speak of,” Darius argued.

“Most of them seem to have been forgotten. These parchments were located during the war, supposedly after one of your own turned out to be a traitor.”

Darius turned white at the suggestion and would have drawn his sword if Kaz had not grabbed his arm. “He’s right, Darius. I’ll fill you in later.”

The knight let his arm drop. Kaz could see the despair growing in the man again. The minotaur could not blame him. He recalled Huma’s face when told of Rennard. Rennard, despite his pale-white face and lack of humor, had always treated Huma well, and indeed was one of those who had trained him. The knight’s career had proven a mockery, however, for long before Rennard had joined the order, he had surrendered himself to the cult of Morgion, god of disease and decay. The gaunt knight was found to be responsible for the death of Grand Master Trake and the serious illness of Oswal. Worse yet, Huma had discovered that the fiend was his own uncle.

“Here, here, and here,” Argaen said calmly, pointing at the map as if unaware of Darius. “These are the most likely entrances your kender friend will be near. If we each cut him off and converge, one of us is bound to catch him.”

“He better pray it’s not me!” Kaz rumbled. “I’ll hang him from the top floor of this building by his shirt collar!”

Delbin was having the time of his life. Secret passages and locks were the things a kender lived for. He thought about how jealous some of his friends back home would be. Serves ‘em right, he decided.

In some ways, Delbin was a bit odd for his kind. Most kender cared for little more than fun, although there were the occasional serious ones, “oddballs,” as they were called by some of the young. Delbin liked adventures, but although he had never told anyone, especially Kaz, he also yearned for some purpose in his life, some grand scheme. Listening to the stories of heroes, both kender and otherwise, his ambition grew. Unfortunately, Delbin had been too young to participate in the great war, and by the time he was old enough to sneak away on his own, word had reached Hylo that She of the Many Faces, as the kender called Takhisis, had been banished to the beyond.

Delbin returned to the business at hand. A great web blocked his path upward. So far, this grand adventure had brought him nothing more than a few old coins, a rusty knife, and one amusing secret door. The web was kind of fascinating, Delbin thought, and he briefly imagined some great spider, as big as himself, spinning it. The image he conjured up was so real, the kender could almost see its eight red eyes…

Suddenly the eight red eyes flashed, and Delbin found himself facing the very spider of his imagination. The thing was incredibly ugly, what he could see of it, and barely able to fit in the passageway. Nevertheless, it was making headway. Imagining a huge spider was one thing, but actually being attacked by one was… was… icky, Delbin decided. The little candle he had shone too weakly to scare the monster, and the knife, which was useful for picking locks on secret doors, was too dull for a confrontation. Actually, a longsword, if he could have lifted one, would probably have been just as useless. The spider was awfully large.

Its eight long legs, each as thick as the kender’s arm, scraped against the passage walls as the huge creature slowly burst its way through the web. Delbin found himself paralyzed, not with fear, which he had experienced only occasionally, but with a trancelike fascination for what was happening. The multiple eyes of the spider seemed to entice him to a warm, safe place where he could sleep snugly, wrapped in his blanket.

He dropped the candle.

The spider scurried back, and Delbin’s mind cleared. The horror was only a few feet away from him. He tried to turn, but to his amazement, his feet were bound together-By webbing, of course, he thought, as he went crashing down on the steps. Recovering from its fright, the spider once again scuttled forward toward its helpless victim.

A roar-a war cry-ripped through the musty passage, and suddenly a huge figure bathed in light stood behind the giant arachnid. In one hand, nearly scraping the ceiling, was a magnificent battle-axe that no man could have wielded with such ease.

The spider hesitated, caught between desire and confusion. Delbin watched in open-mouthed awe as the axe rang down and bit into the monster. Ichor spilled out, splattering the kender and the walls, as the great weapon fairly cleaved the spider in two. It refused to die immediately, its tiny brain lagging behind reality. The light in its eight eyes slowly dimmed as it wobbled in the direction of Delbin. The axe came down once more.

The monstrosity finally collapsed at the kender’s bound feet.

“Delbin!” His axe dripping with the spider’s life fluids, Kaz stepped over the creature’s remains and kneeled down beside his companion. Behind him, carrying a torch, hurried Tesela. There were other sounds in the passage, running feet that undoubtedly belonged to Darius and Argaen.

“Delbin, you little fool!” Kaz muttered. He looked down at the kender’s feet. “What is that stuff?”

“It’s webbing,” Tesela remarked. “What else would a spider use?” She handed the torch to Kaz and brought her medallion in contact with the webbing. The sticky, ropelike substance melted away.

‘That thing’s pretty handy.”

“Yes, isn’t it.” She leaned back and spoke to the kender. “Do you feel any dizziness or have bruises? You must’ve fallen.”

“How’d you do that?” Delbin was touching the remains of the webbing. “Could I do that, too? Does it just work for spiders? Well, at least I don’t think I’m hurt. You should’ve seen it, Kaz, though I guess you did, but it just seemed to come right out of nowhere, and all I was doing was thinking that the web looked like a giant spider, and-”

Kaz briefly put a hand over the kender’s mouth and looked at Tesela. “I think he’s all right.”

“Paladine’s Sword! What happened here?” Darius, blade in one hand and a candle in the other, came running up the stairs behind Delbin. “Is that a-a-”

“A spider, yes.” Argaen joined them from the steps above. While both he and Darius had obviously run, only the knight seemed at all winded. “I cannot say I’ve come across one that big before. Not in a place like Vingaard Keep.”

Kaz wiped his axe blade off on the spider. The stench from the bodily fluids of the monster was becoming noticeable. “Have you ever been in these passages?” he asked the elf.

“When I first found those parchments-and, believe me, that was purely accidental, for they were extremely well hidden-I decided to traverse the entire library system. I came across many spiders, of course, but nothing like that.”

“Delbin says that it seemed to come out of nowhere, that he was just thinking how the web looked like one spun by a giant spider.”

The elf frowned. “I do not like the sound of that. Things grow ever worse. I fear that the kender himself may have somehow created that monster-by magic,” The kender was silent, but there was a gleam in his eyes that Kaz did not like.

“What do you mean?” the minotaur asked Argaen, “when you say that Delbin ‘created’ it?”

“That may be a poor choice of words. What I meant applies to us all, including what happened to you when you first entered Vingaard Keep. You recall the knight you told me of, or the sound of men and animals, yet there were none?”

“The knight was real,” Darius stated flatly.

“Perhaps. Your knight vanished, real or not. This spider of the kender’s imagination did not, however.” Argaen studied Delbin intently in the torchlight. Kaz noticed his companion shiver.

“Let this be a lesson to you, Delbin,” the minotaur chided the kender kindly. “Don’t go running off on any adventures without me.”

“Exactly how did you find the entrance you used, kender?” the elf asked with great interest. “Even I would have trouble finding them without help, and knowing how to open them…”

Delbin grinned. “It’s easy. All you have to do is know where to look, and the locks weren’t really hidden all that great. They were kind of fun, but my uncle Kebble showed me lots of tricks. A lot of the other kender think he’s the greatest, which he is, but-”

“Delbin’s a kender,” Kaz interrupted quickly. “That should be sufficient answer. He could go on for hours. I for one, however, would like to leave this place. This overgrown bug-eater stinks to high heaven, and I’ve seen less dust in a desert.”

The elf nodded rather absently. “Surely. The nearest exit is the one you came through.”

Kaz stepped back over the remains of the spider. Tesela helped Delbin rise to his feet. The kender seemed a bit unsteady. The cleric made a move to help him, but Argaen was suddenly there. He took hold of one of Delbin’s arms. “Allow me, human.” Argaen smiled politely at her. Tesela automatically stepped away. The elf helped the kender over the spider. Tesela blinked and followed hastily after them, not wanting to be left alone with the horrid remains. Spiders had always scared her as a small child.

The day, like all other days he could remember, dwindled away. Nothing changed… ever. No end seemed in sight.

Lord Oswal sat in the central chamber, where he and his numerous predecessors, including his late brother, had held court. The throne room was a place of power, designed to accentuate the Grand Master’s status as supreme commander and voice of Paladine. The chair on which the Grand Master sat was a level higher than the next closest. Anyone seeking an audience would be forced to look upward. Behind the high-backed throne, further emphasizing who ruled here, was a great representation of the Solamnic symbol. The kingfisher was larger than a man.

Once guards would have stood on both sides of the throne. More would have lined the hall, and there would have been still more at the great doors. Now, as Oswal slowly raised his head, he saw but a handful of knights, little more than a dozen, he supposed, and it was questionable how much he could rely on them. These men were filthy, unbathed, hardly typical of the knighthood as once he had cherished it. They were mad, of course, and it was a madness forced on them by him. He was lucky that he himself had not fallen victim to the tremendous power of that one, though each day it grew a little harder to resist. Each hour it grew so much easier to just let one’s mind drift… to…

The bell sounded, snapping him from his reverie. His eyes widened, and a smile played across his cracked lips. Perhaps his men had thought it part of his madness when the Grand Master had ordered at least one man stationed at the bell at all times. Certainly his command that the bell be rung at random hours had been met with looks of pity from men who had once respected him. Lord Oswal knew what he was doing, however. The loud ringing of the bell stirred his mind whenever he was sinking too deep into madness. The ringing-and his own power as a cleric of Paladine, something that even most of his fellow knights did not know.

What was going on outside? he wondered. Where was Bennett? Where was Arak Hawkeye, head of the Order of the Crown? Where was Huma? Rennard? Where…

He cursed the one who traveled in the darkness as he realized with a jolt that some of the men he was waiting for were long dead. There were others, though…

“Contemplating your mortality, Grand Master?” a voice like a hiss asked him suddenly.

Oswal was well beyond the point of being startled when he manifested himself. “Come out from behind me, coward.”

A blur of darkness formed before the throne of the Grand Master, but none of the guards noticed. “Are you blind?” he wanted to scream at them. “The enemy is before you!”

The other knights continued to stare without reaction. They were caught in a bizarre world of fanaticism in which the performance of their duties was all they existed for. They were being the best, most alert sentries that they could possibly be, yet they could not see the figure cloaked in shadows.

Oswal refused to consider the possibility that it might be himself who was mad, and that the one before him did not, in truth, exist anywhere but in the Grand Master’s mind.

“Shall I tell you what this day will bring?” the shadow mocked him. “Would you like to know what new atrocities are being performed in the name of Paladine and the Knights of Solamnia?”

It was a game he played each day at some point. Lord Oswal trembled in growing rage and uncertainty. Solamnia was in ruins. The knights were plundering the very people they were supposed to protect. Former allies were now hunted enemies.

All at the Grand Master’s command.

“You can tell me nothing new, mage, and I will tell you nothing new, either.” He said the last with some satisfaction. He could no longer summon up the strength to fully utilize the gifts of Paladine with which he, as a cleric and a Lord Knight, was endowed. How had that come about?

“I can save your people from your madnessssss.” Oswal had struck a nerve. “You merely have to tell me a few simple things. The longer you delay, the worse you make your own position. Do you know that your keep lies open, defenseless, and that other than the few men you have here, there are only two or three dozen remaining in all of Vingaard?” The shadow chuckled. “Soon the Knights of Solamnia will cease to exist, and all for naught.”

‘To the Abyss with you!” the Grand Master shouted as he rose from his throne. The knights guarding the chamber turned to look at him fleetingly, but noting that nothing was apparently wrong, they turned back to their “duties.”

“If you could take what you wanted, you would have taken it long ago! I have seen it in a vision! Paladine has guided me from the first! It is only a matter of outlasting you, specter! Your own time is limited! I will prevail!”

“You will do nothing. You are impotent, Grand Master. Shall I tell you a secret? Ssssoon, very ssssoon, what I want will be mine.”

“Takhisis take your murky hide!” Oswal slumped back onto the throne.

“She already hasss, asss you can sseee…” The shadow began to fade into nothing, but not before the Grand Master was allowed a glimpse of a face. It was a human face, but only barely, for the hair lay flat against the skull and the face was overly elongated, like that of some reptile. The skin added to the effect, showing a layer of scale or scab. It was hard to tell which.

Long after the shade had vanished, if indeed it had ever been there, he finally succeeded in whispering the name that accompanied that horrid, less-than-human visage.

“Dracos!”