Kaz the Minotaur

Chapter Four

“One day-” their instructor said proudly, “one day it will be the minotaurs who rule the world of Krynn. Our enemies will be crushed under our strength. They are, after all, barbarians, are they not? We are the race that shall rule. Only we can truly bring civilization to this backward land. Others have tried, but they have always lacked our determination, our discipline. We minotaurs have a destiny.”

The young minotaurs huddled wide-eyed before the standing instructor. Zebak was not the best of orators, but he had the passion that counted when dealing with the young. It was his duty to spread the message to the children, so that they would begin to understand.

Another minotaur, not quite an adult, leaned through the entranceway and signaled to Zebak. The elder nodded and dismissed the newcomer. The children knew the signal, having seen it at least half a dozen times. It meant that one of their masters was passing nearby.

Zebak began speaking of the art of war and how it should be the focus of a minotaur’s life. As he progressed, another being entered the room. He was a toothy abomination, as far as the children were concerned, but then, the ogre probably cared as little for their looks. As the ogre studied the children, Kaz, sitting in the back, was not the only one who could not completely conceal his mounting hatred.

“A good class, teacher,” the ogre commented, his voice rumbling. His expression was like that of one admiring a potential meal.

“I do my best.”

The ogre gave him a strange look, one Kaz was too young to recognize. “So I hear.”

Their visitor departed without another word, and the lesson continued.

The next day, Zebak had disappeared. An ogre trained them for the rest of the season. They were to be ready for their first combat by spring.

“Kaz?”

“Hmmm?”

“Is there something wrong? You keep staring off into the sky, which is pretty, I know, but the look on your face was strange, and I thought maybe-”

“I’m fine, Delbin. Just remembering.” Kaz grunted. Now he was getting melancholy. Perhaps he was getting old.

“There’s a place up ahead. I think it’s a sort of village. There might be fishermen. Should I buy us some fish? I promise I’ll be good. You’ll see.”

Kaz scanned the settlement. Perhaps five crude houses-”houses” being a compliment to such ramshackle structures-sat near the river. Beyond the settlement and across the river lay the edge of the forest he had wanted to reach. High-pitched shouts made him tear his attention from the forest. A couple of human children ran in wild abandon around the houses. Kaz tried to picture young minotaurs in a similar situation but failed. Always there had been the training, even from the moment they began to walk. It was never too early to learn.

A couple of adult males were pulling a small boat in from the river. Kaz gave the boat a cursory glance; no minotaur with any pride would have bothered with such a decrepit piece of flotsam. It was a disgrace.

Someone spotted them. A cry rose up, and Kaz reined his horse to a stop. “Hold on, Delbin.”

The kender looked at him curiously and, remarkably, said nothing.

Kaz waited until a fair number of people had gathered. There seemed to be three definite families and a few scattered individuals. From the fearful looks on their faces and the ragged clothing most of them wore, he suspected that they were recent arrivals from the north who had come here in the hope of starting their lives over. That raised them a notch in the minotaur’s eyes. Many of the victims of the war had simply given up and were surviving, nothing more.

When no more joined the group, he urged the horse forward at a slow pace, Delbin following suit. Kaz suspected at least one or two other men were hidden somewhere nearby, watching his moves.

A graybeard with courage stepped in front of the others and said, “Come no farther, beast, unless you want to court death.”

Kaz halted. Unless they had excellent archers, he knew that it would be a simple matter to wade into the villagers and disperse them. A swing or two of his axe would relieve them of any foolish souls. The urge to do just that was there, deeply embedded in the minotaur, but Kaz smothered it. Huma would have never forgiven him for attacking such people.

“I am Kaz, and this is Delbin. We come in peace, human. Perhaps to trade for some food, if you can spare it.” Kaz tried to speak as softly as possible, but his deep, bellowing voice still made some of the weaker ones cringe.

Graybeard rubbed his buried chin. “You travel with a kender.”

It was a statement, not a question, but Kaz responded regardless. “His name, as I mentioned, is Delbin, and he’ll talk your ear off if you let him-or even if you don’t. His presence alone should tell you I’m no threat, and I swear I’ll keep him away from your belongings as well.”

Kaz smiled slightly, aware that what he considered truly a smile would reveal far too many teeth for the humans’ tastes.

“Let’s kill him, Micah!” someone, a narrow, foxlike man, muttered. He had the look of an ex-soldier about him and was probably, judging by the others, the most dangerous of the bunch. Kaz’s hand inched a little closer to his axe.

“There’s no need of that.” The voice was light and very female, as far as humans went, but one used to being obeyed, not out of fear but respect. A short, slightly robust female with long brown hair walked toward them from the direction of the river. She had large, dark eyes that reminded Kaz of those of his own kind and full lips that turned slightly downward, giving her a bit of a disapproving look, like an instructor.

Kaz found no treachery in her face and, gazing at her clothing, understood why. The gown was a simple coarse material, but that was not what attracted his attention. Rather, his eyes were fixed on the medallion hanging from her neck. The minotaur was long familiar with what was carved on the medallion, for he had seen more than a few of them during the war. A cleric of Mishakal, goddess of healing. Such a one was no threat, and her word was as good as any, probably better. Kaz moved his hand away from his axe.

“I still say we can’t afford to take a chance,” the ex-soldier muttered.

“If Tesela thinks we’re safe,” the graybeard chided. “then we’re safe.” He paused. “You meant what you said, didn’t you, Tesela?”

She smiled, brightening an already sunlit day. “I meant it, Drew. There is no evil in this one, regardless of his race. Great confusion, yes, but nothing harmful-” the cleric paused and eyed the man who had protested- “unless someone provokes him needlessly.”

The ex-soldier quickly shook his head. “I was only thinking-”

“I know, Korum.”

“What about the kender?” Drew asked, frowning beneath his bush of hair. “Are you going to vouch for him as well?”

“Delbin will stay here with the horses,” Kaz offered immediately. As the kender opened his mouth for what surely would have been a long-winded protest, the minotaur added, “Take a breath, Delbin.”

His companion closed his mouth tightly and gave him as glowering a look as a kender was capable of. Some of the humans smiled in amusement and Drew nodded.

“Then you are welcome here for today, but I must ask you to leave by tomorrow.”

“No worry there, elder. I plan to keep going as soon as possible.” Kaz dismounted and handed the reins to a pouting Delbin. He turned back to the humans and found all of them, including the cleric, staring up at him in awe. They were only now just realizing how massive he was. Some of their fears were returning, and Kaz quickly tried to think of some way to set them at ease. He decided on surrendering his axe.

“You really have no need to fear me. If you like, I’ll leave my axe here as a sign of good faith.”

The elder was about to accept the offer when Tesela, with a harried look suddenly on her face, spouted, “No! That-that won’t be necessary.”

“See here, cleric,” the old man snarled. “We appreciate all your help in this past month, what with Gia and my wife becoming sick and all of us worn out, but you’re a guest here as well. I wish you’d let me do what I was chosen to do.”

The cleric looked downcast. “I apologize, Drew.”

“Don’t do that.” The graybeard smiled. “When you do that, I feel as if I just cursed Mishakal herself.” With a sigh, he turned to Kaz and said, “If she feels you should keep your axe, then I guess that’s all right, although I can’t for the life of me fathom what you might be needin’ it for.”

Kaz nodded his thanks. He was surprised that a cleric of Mishakal would speak on his behalf and countenance a weapon besides. A weapon was always a weapon, and to a healer like Tesela, it represented everything she worked against.

“Kaz?” Delbin was squirming in his saddle. “Can’t I get off now? I promise I won’t go near anything. Could I bring the horses down the river there so we can all get some water, because I don’t know about them, but I could really use some. It’s been a dry ride, and the sun was shining and I’d really like to-”

The minotaur looked at Tesela and the elder, and Drew nodded. “As long as he brings the horses downriver and keeps away from our things. We have little enough without a kender getting his sticky little hands on our things.”

Delbin looked at his hands sulkily. “My hands aren’t sticky. I even wash them on occasion, and I said I wasn’t going to touch hardly anything because Kaz here doesn’t like it, and-”

“Don’t push your luck, Delbin. Be nice and quiet and go water the horses.”

“I’ll go with him,” Tesela offered.

It was clear that Drew would have preferred that the cleric take charge of the minotaur, but he nodded permission nonetheless. With some hesitation, the gray-bearded man held out his hand to Kaz. “W-Welcome.”

The minotaur’s hand swallowed up the old man’s. They shook and Kaz released him. Drew took a moment to make certain that his hand was still attached to his arm and then asked, “What will you be needing?”

Kaz rattled off a list of food and some basic goods he thought the small settlement might be able to supply him with. “I’ve got the gold to pay for it.”

Drew nodded and began leading him toward the river-bank. ‘That will be greatly appreciated. We’ll be able to buy a few things from the river traders and possibly even send someone down to Xak Tsaroth. We lost so much before and during our journey down here.”

“You came from northern Solamnia?”

“From a place called Teal, west of Kyre.”

“Kyre?” Kaz’s eyes widened. “I fought near there-on the side of Paladine, of course.”

The elder lowered his voice. “It would be wise not to mention anything about the war, no matter which side you fought on. There have been… troubles.”

Grunting, Kaz said, “I hear disturbing things about Solamnia, elder, especially concerning those who dwell in Vingaard. I’d have thought the land would be on the way to recovery by now.”

Drew’s tone grew bitter. “It would be… if things had continued. At first the knighthood directed people in the rebuilding of their homes and the revival of the land. They spent their own money to buy food from those regions spared the greatest atrocities at the hands of the Dark Lady’s minions, and they hunted down the scattered bands that refused to surrender. Things seemed well on their way…”

“But?”

The old man’s eyes grew vague, as if he were looking back into the past. “It wasn’t just the knighthood, but those who lived near Vingaard as well. We can all understand bitterness and the fact that some people cannot return to a way of life the younger ones don’t even remember. Did I tell you that I was once a merchant? Pfahl That’s neither here nor there; my mind’s going! You want to hear about the troubles. Hold on a moment.”

At the elder’s summons, a burly man with a bow came trotting over. “Gil, here, was our protection in case you proved dangerous. He was a master archer in Kyre, but you know what happened to that city. Now Gil is our chief procurer of meat. A better hunter you will never meet.”

Despite his savage looks, the archer seemed to be a pleasant man who took Kaz in stride. “Elder Drew overstates my skill. With most of the woods to the north either dead or torn apart, the wildlife fled to these parts. I practically trip over game every step I take.”

Drew shook his head in denial. “Our archer underplays his skill. I think Chislev, who watches over nature, or Habbakuk, who is lord over the animals, guides his hand. They know that he takes only what is necessary for food and never hunts for pure sport.”

“As is only right,” Kaz commented. He could see that the archer was a man of honor and fairness.

The elder explained Kaz’s needs, and Gil said he would work on supplying them. With a nod to each of them, the hunter departed.

Drew watched him go. “You will find few men like him as you near Vingaard Keep, my minotaur friend. As I was saying, the aid stopped, not all at once, but so quickly that many were caught with nothing. The lands produced little food, and many of the forests were useless save as huge supplies of kindling. Then Vingaard began sending out its knights with a different mission in mind. With great efficiency, they began to gather whatever raw materials they could. They started demanding labor for the money spent. Those who could not pay, and that was most of the populace, were turned into serfs.”

“Serfs?” Kaz could not believe that of Lord Oswal, or even Bennett. The two were, in the end, believers in the Code and the Measure, and from what the minotaur had learned during his time with them, the enslavement of others was something that was forbidden. It was a law that Vinas Solamnus, founder of the knighthood, had himself created.

“I see by the look in your eyes that you disbelieve some of what I say, minotaur. Unfortunately, it’s all sadly true.” Drew’s tone suggested that he had experienced much of this firsthand.

“I’m not denying your words, human. It’s just that I have fought by the side of the Grand Master and his nephew. Whatever their faults, I can’t believe they’ve slipped so far. You make them sound little better than the roving marauders.”

“More like the greedy lords of Ergoth, I would have said, minotaur, but then I was a merchant in that land for some time. I fear, however, that the Knights of Solamnia will not stop there, as you yourself should know. I have seen the proclamation of the Grand Master, Kaz, and some of the others have as well, I’m certain.”

Kaz felt his throat tighten. “And?”

Drew smiled, which did not ease the minotaur’s anxiety. “A merchant learns to smell a poor investment if he wants to stay alive. I, for one, have no intention of trying to drag you back to Vingaard Keep, where I doubt they’d reward me anyway.”

“How comforting,” Kaz retorted. He was pleased with the former merchant’s frankness, but something that he could not put his finger on still disturbed him about the human. But the elder was no magic-user, from the look of him. Kaz was wondering if his paranoia was acting up.

“I sometimes begin to wonder if it was not Paladine himself who was defeated, and that the stories of Huma of the Lance are just that… stories.”

The minotaur shook his head. “They’re true, for the most part, I suppose.”

He found it hard to speak. The elder studied his inhuman visage for a moment and said quietly, “Yes… you were there, weren’t you? I’ve heard one or two tales about Huma of the Lance that mention you. I get the feeling that most of the storytellers, however, dislike having a minotaur share the glory with one of their own kind.”

“A lot of them cared little enough for Huma when he lived.” Kaz grew somber as memories flashed by. For his part, the elder paced alongside silently, his gaze oddly anxious as he led the minotaur along.

They had reached the river. Drew hesitated, almost seeming to be torn between continuing on or turning around and returning to the others.

“I wanted to show you something and seek your opinion. Gil thinks it nothing but some animal, but I–I have seen too many things in the war.”

Intrigued, Kaz allowed the human to lead him to a place perhaps a thousand paces north of the village. Trees now dotted both sides of the river. “What is the name of this river? My map did not say.”

The elder shrugged. “I don’t really know. We call it Chislev’s Gift, but, believe me, that’s strictly our name. We were so relieved to find such a wonderful location. I suspect that, if we hold out, this will someday be a fairly profitable site. It will mean some sacrifice, but we will do what we must.”

“Spoken like a true merchant.”

“It’s in the blood. Here we are. Gil was the one who found it, but he thought it might be a good idea to show it to me, just to be safe.”

“It” was a partial footprint on the damp riverbank. Kaz went down on one knee to study it better. If the footprint was made by an animal, the animal weighed at least as much as Kaz, judging by the impression. Not so much a paw as a foot, the print was obviously a couple days old, and this close to the river, it had suffered from the elements constantly. Kaz understood Drew’s worry. Goblins and trolls ranged in this area at times, though there were fewer now than during the war. The front of the print indicated sharp, almost clawlike nails like those of Kaz himself, and the impression itself was facing away from the river.

“It crossed here.”

“Crossed? It? It is an animal, then?”

“I doubt it.” Kaz looked up. “You suspected a goblin or something, didn’t you?”

Drew nodded nervously. “But Gil-”

“Your hunter may not have ever seen goblin or troll tracks, though I don’t think it’s a troll. It’s too muddy to really tell.” The minotaur glanced at the forest on the other side of the river. “Is there any way to cross the river?”

“We have some small boats and a pole raft.”

Remembering the boats, Kaz opted for the raft. The odds were better that it could support him. The river was no monster, but it was always wise to respect the raw power of nature.

“While your people gather what I requested, I’ll go take a look. It may be nothing, but I’ll feel better knowing for certain.”

“Gil found nothing.”

Kaz snorted. “With respect to the human, I am a minotaur and a warrior from birth. I may be able to find something he… overlooked.”

A sigh. “Very well. At the very least, it should help me to sleep a little better.”

The minotaur gave him a toothy grin. “Perhaps… and perhaps not.”

The river-Kaz could not bring himself to call it Chislev’s Gift-proved much stronger than Kaz had imagined. Knowing his own strength in proportion to that of the humans made the minotaur admire Gil that much more. That did not mean that Kaz had changed his mind about the footprint. It belonged to no animal, although goblins and trolls, with apologies to the wildlife, were often lumped into that category based on personality alone.

He climbed aboard and cautiously pushed the raft out into the river. The pole was sturdy, for which he was thankful, and his progress was slow but steady. His thoughts turned to the possibility of goblins in the area. Kaz had a particular dislike for goblins. When he had been hunted by soldiers of the Dragonqueen for killing his sadistic ogre captain, he had fled into the wastelands, only to be captured by a band of goblins who had caught him unawares and kept him drugged.

Thinking about the past, Kaz forgot to pay close attention to his present situation and almost managed to lose the pole. The raft started heading farther downriver. Cursing, he regained control. When Kaz at last reached the other side of the river, he pulled the raft onto the bank and paused a moment to catch his breath. The current had taken him downstream a little farther than he originally planned, and he would have to hike back. Kaz wondered how the cleric was getting along with Delbin, then decided it was something he could worry about after he returned. He might find nothing, but on the other hand, he might find something.

He combed the riverbank opposite where the print had been spotted. When that proved fruitless, he moved farther north. A little more than a half a mile up the river, he found a second print. Enough of it was still visible for him to match it with the first. From there, he began the slow process of backtracking. It was simple at first. The goblin-Kaz had no reason to believe it was anything else-had made no attempt to hide its presence. The minotaur followed a trail of broken branches and crushed plant life deep into the forest, and then the trail broke off into several different directions.

Kaz grunted softly. There was more than one of them. Either the band had left this area for better hunting grounds or they were still somewhere among the trees. There were more than half a dozen, of that he was certain. If they were still somewhere nearby, Drew’s people were in mortal danger.

It was at that point that Kaz realized his own jeopardy. He heard a movement to his right, little more than the shiver of a branch, but something within him, something developed over the course of his lifetime, warned him that the cause of the noise was neither the wind nor some small animal. Carefully, so as to avoid giving the watcher notice, he let his hand drift toward the handle of his axe. He cursed himself for not unhooking it sooner. His peacemaking with the village had put him off guard.

The other made a step toward him.

Kaz tugged his axe free and, without a sound, rose and whirled to the right. The battle-axe was poised, ready to strike.

“Delbin?” The glare he gave the kender should have shriveled his companion to nothing.

“Oops! I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to cry out. After all, you looked so busy. What are you looking for? Tesela had to step away, so I thought that since I had been so good, you wouldn’t mind if I went exploring, and when I saw that someone had left a boat lying around and you had gone off on the raft-”

The minotaur snorted angrily. “Take a breath, Del-”

At that moment, three huge forms charged from behind Kaz, taking him down before he could turn.

Someone with a deep, snarling voice cried, “The kender! Get the kender!”

There was some kind of a reply, but it was lost in the noise of the fight. Kaz, his face buried in the earth, succeeded in shoving one of his would-be captors away. Another one got an arm around his face, blocking his vision. Whatever he fought, it was as big as he was and almost as strong. It also had help, for the third one had a death grip around Kaz’s legs, and despite his best efforts, the minotaur could not break it. But he would not die passively. With his free hand, he raked a face, then paused in startlement. His discovery proved costly, for the attacker secured his free limb and pinned Kaz to the ground.

“Your honorable surrender is offered. Will you give in freely?”

Kaz could not reply at first, since his snout was still pressed against the ground. Someone realized this and pulled his head up.

Reluctantly he answered by rote. “I submit to honorable surrender. Will you accept?”

“Accepted.” Strong, clawed hands with firm grips pulled him to his feet.

He had been mistaken. He had assumed the footprints had belonged to goblins, but he had forgotten how many races left similar tracks. So much for his vaunted tracking superiority. Kaz had done no better than the archer, and to make matters worse, he had been captured.

By minotaurs.