The Legend of Huma

Chapter 3

The two wanderers found it impossible to travel too far before being forced to rest. Huma’s head still bothered him, and Kaz was not fully over the effects of the drugged food he had been fed following his capture by the goblins.

“I was a fool! They caught me napping like a newborn and trussed me up good! I am many things, but not crazy enough to try rising to face two pikes that had me pinned to the ground. Even goblins can’t miss at that range.” The last made Kaz laugh, though Huma found little humor in the statement.

They finally agreed to stop at a small rise that would provide some protection. It was uncomfortably too much like the position that the first goblin patrol had chosen. Still, it was better than wide-open terrain. Huma only prayed he would keep his eyes open long enough to wake the minotaur when it was Kaz’s turn to watch.

They talked a little while, perhaps because neither felt safe about sleep. Huma spoke of the knighthood and its basic beliefs and organization. Kaz found the Knights of Solamnia interesting. Many aspects about it appealed to the easterner, especially the great respect for honor.

Kaz went into very little detail about his own people. They were great mariners, it was true, but their lives were now controlled by the ogres. They still had their tournaments of honor, where one rose in rank by defeating his opponent, but the ogres cared little for this method and chose new measures more appealing to their ways. Because of that, Kaz had already built up a great hatred of his so-called masters before his deadly clash with his captain. Anything was better than servitude to their kind, he felt.

That Huma trusted Kaz with his life disturbed the Solamnian a little. He had already seen how savage the minotaur could become. Huma never could have snapped an opponent’s neck with the efficiency and—eagerness—that Kaz had shown. Yet he felt that the minotaur could be trusted where his word was concerned. The debate in Huma’s mind raged on until he fell prey to weariness. Then it became a moot point.

The night passed without incident, as did the first hours of day. They ate what little rations Huma had left. A brief look in the goblins’ bags had made the knight lose all desire for any food the creatures might have been carrying, and besides, the goblins’ food might have been tampered with.

The day was bleak. A chill wind was picking up, and Huma was thankful that he wore good, strong padding beneath his armor. Kaz, however, seemed unbothered by the cool weather. His race was one of explorers and mariners, as well as warriors, and the lands of his birth could get exceptionally cold in the dark months. The barechested footsoldier did not even wear boots. Had Huma walked as far in his bare feet, they would have been scarred, bleeding, and mangled. The lands here had been baked hard and rough by the past.

About midday, Huma noticed the riders in the distance.

The riders did not come in Huma and Kaz’s direction, and soon the group was lost from sight. But Huma believed the Knights of Solamnia, and that meant odds were good that the column—or at least a portion of it—waited nearby.

Kaz, on the other hand, was not so confident about the identities of the riders. Here, so close to the front, they could be anyone.

“True, they appeared to be humans—or perhaps elves—but they may have been among those who serve Takhisis. You have never seen the Black Guard, the Warlord’s elite troops. Nor the renegades for that matter.”

The minotaur had used that puzzling word before. “Who are the renegades?” Huma asked.

“Sorcerers unschooled. Mad mages. All of them, somehow or another, have escaped the notice of the orders of magic. Not all are evil. It is said, though, that one with tremendous power has made a pact with the Dark Queen herself, and that she is so desperate for victory now that she has shunned her own Black Robes.”

Magic. Huma knew more about it than most of his comrades. He had grown up with it. His best—his only—friend had turned to sorcery. From the first, Magius had told Huma that some day he would be a great and powerful sorcerer, even as Huma leaned toward the knighthood that his mother had claimed was his birthright.

Thinking of Magius made Huma think too much of his early years, times that, while cherished in some ways, had left him bitter and unsure. He had not seen Magius in years, not since the day his friend had completed his studies and entered the tower for some sort of test that would decide his fate. On that very same day, Huma had made a decision of his own and had set out to confront the Knights of Solamnia and petition for a place among them.

Huma shook away the thoughts.

They continued walking. Kaz continually scanned the horizon, but he seemed a stranger to the terrain. At one point, he turned and asked, “Are all of the human lands like this?”

“You’ve never seen any of them?”

“Only the worst areas. Where else would the ogres put us but in the worst positions? In our own way, we are more expendable to them than the goblins. They trust neither of our races, but they know they can control the goblins.”

Huma nodded his understanding. “There are still lands untouched by the war, but they grow fewer each year. Where my home was, is now a wasteland akin to this.” With that came a rush of bitter memories. He forced himself to concentrate on the path ahead. The past was behind him.

The minotaur’s head snapped forward. “We have company of some sort.”

The knight squinted. More than three dozen figures, all human, headed in their general direction. Survivors of some village, he realized. Lost survivors, evidently, with two broken-down wagons hauled by animals half-dead and led by men who looked no better. There were women, too, and even a couple of children. As they drew closer, he suddenly realized that most of them were gazing at his companion. What he could read in those gazes, he did not care for at all.

“We must be careful, Kaz.”

“Against this pathetic rabble? You needn’t bother. I can take these all by myself.” Kaz started to reach for the ax strapped to his back, but Huma caught his arm.

“No!” he hissed. “That’s murder!”

The usually quick-reacting warrior hesitated. The mind of a minotaur worked much differently from that of a man. Kaz saw a threat; there were more than enough men to take him down if he failed to react. His world did not accept compromise. One triumphed or died. Huma stood dumbfounded; he did not want to fight Kaz, but he could not very well allow the minotaur to go tearing into the refugees.

Though Kaz lowered his hand, the damage was already done. The villagers saw only a monster who had threatened them. They already had seen their homes destroyed, and friends and relatives killed. Frustration at their helplessness had built higher and higher, with no outlet. Now, a lone minotaur who represented all that was evil, all their suffering, stood in their path. Several men and women shuffled forward, a ragged mob. They were pale and frightened, a suicidal fright. All they wanted was one chance to strike back before they died.

Huma was appalled at the sight. The group moved like living dead. Farm tools, knives, rope, even various household items were clutched as weapons. Kaz stood his ground, but he gave Huma a quick glance.

“If they come a few steps closer, I will strike no matter what you say. I will not stand and die at their hands.” The minotaur’s eyes glared blood red. Before long, he would act. Huma jumped in front of the mob, sword raised in the air. “Stop! He means no harm!”

It was a pathetic attempt, and the results were as he had feared. The murderous mob came to a halt, but only to decide what to do about the young knight barring their path.

“Step aside!” one grizzled elder yelled. A cloth was tied over one eye, and the red stain on it indicated a recent wound. His skin was cracked, and his sparse hair clung to his head. “We want him! He’s got to pay for what he’s done!”

“He’s done nothing to you!”

A woman a little older than Huma, and apparently once pretty, spat at him. “He’s one of them! What does it matter whether he was the one who killed my children! If he’s not done it here, he’s done it elsewhere!”

It would have been futile to try to explain. They would not have listened to Huma, and, even if they did, it would not excuse the horrors they had suffered. Kaz was their only focus.

In desperation, Huma brandished his sword. There was some murmuring and a few less hardy souls stepped back, but the apparent betrayal by a Knight of Solamnia against his own race was more than some could stand. The mob moved forward again, but this time it was obvious that Huma was also their target.

Behind him, he could hear his massive companion pulling out the ax. “Have no fear, Huma. We will crush them.”

There was anticipation in those words, even more than the first time Huma had noticed it.

Not even the sight of an angered minotaur clutching a huge battle ax in one great hand was enough to deter villagers. Thin, bony arms, from which hung the rags of clothes, rose. Some were empty-handed, some were willing to strike with whatever was in them. Huma stepped back.

Would he really kill these people to protect one who had been an enemy only a few days before? No knight would do so. Huma knew that. Yet he could not leave Kaz to them.

“Kaz, you’d better run!”

“They’ll kill you now, Huma. Kill you for aiding me. Better we stand and fight.”

That was the last thing Huma desired, but there appeared to be no other choice. Either he moved aside and betrayed the minotaur or he stood and betrayed those he had sworn to defend. The sword wavered.

A strong wind rushed up from behind him.

The mob froze and all eyes stared upward. Behind him, Huma heard Kaz whirl and curse.

“Dragon!”

A cloud of dust kicked up, obscuring Huma’s vision as he turned. He could hear the flapping of great wings as the dragon evidently prepared to land. In his mind, he saw one of the deadly black dragons or perhaps a huge red one, come to strike them all down. His sword would be less than useless.

Even before the dust had settled, Kaz was charging. Dragon of darkness or light, it mattered little to him. He had no future, whichever the case. He only hoped to do some damage before the leviathan crushed him. The minotaur shouted a battle cry as he ran, and the ax whirled about his head. Huma got his first glance of the dragon as Kaz struck.

The knight raised a hand and shouted, although he knew it was much too late already. “No!”

The might of a minotaur was truly impressive. It was said that an ax in a minotaur’s hands could split boulders in two. Had Kaz struck, it was quite possible that he might have conquered. Instead, he suddenly froze in midswing and his momentum, great as it was, threw him headfirst to the ground beneath the dragon’s great maw.

The dragon glanced only briefly at the fallen berserker and then looked up to study the human. Huma stared back. As a knight, he was accustomed to the comings and goings of the Dragons of Light. They served as guardians and messengers, but he had never seen one this close.

It was tall and sleek. The entire body was silver, save the two eyes that glowed like sunshine. He knew instinctively that the dragon was female, although he would have been hard-pressed to explain his reasoning. The jaws were longer than his arm and the teeth were so long that the dragon easily could have bitten off Huma’s head with one snap. The snout was long and tapered.

The dragon’s voice, contrary to the beast’s appearance, was deep but melodious. “A Knight of Solamnia. What do you do out here? You are far from your comrades. Are you seeking this garbage here? Rest assured, the minotaur will go nowhere. Not while the power of my will holds him.”

Huma lowered his weapon. The villagers had melted into the background, although they were in no real danger.

“Are you well?” The question appeared legitimate. The silvery dragon was actually concerned.

“Please,” Huma choked out. “Don’t harm him! It’s not what you think!”

The glimmering orbs of the dragon seemed to appraise him. The leviathan was curious. “Why do you wish to spare the life of this creature? Is there information you desire? I can wrench information from him with little trouble.”

The dragon waited with the patience of one who measures time in centuries, not minutes.

“He is my companion. He has turned from the evil of the Dark Queen.”

Had someone informed Huma that the face of a dragon was capable of revealing very human surprise, he would have scoffed. This, though, was the case. He remained silent as the dragon digested this unusual piece of information.

“The minotaur would have struck me. It is obvious that he meant me great physical harm. How, then, can I justify your claims?”

Huma stiffened. “You must take my word. I have no proof.”

She actually smiled at that. On a dragon, even a smile was fearsome. Lord Oswal had once said that a dragon’s smile was like that of the fox who was preparing to eat the hen.

“I beg your pardon, Knight of Solamnia. I did not mean that I had no faith in your words. You must admit, it is not every day that one finds a minotaur fighting side by side with one of your kind.”

“No offense was taken.”

“What of them?”

Huma did not turn. He still remembered his indecision and what might have resulted. “Their fear and anger is understandable. They’ve suffered much. I hold nothing against them.”

She acknowledged his answer with a sinuous twist of her narrow, lengthy neck. To the villagers she said, “You travel off-course. Turn to the southwest. There are clerics of Mishakal who will care for your injured and give you food. Tell any others you meet on your way.”

She received no argument from them, something that Huma was quite thankful for. The dragon watched the refugees set out in the proper direction. Then she looked down at Kaz with near-distaste.

“If I release this one, his well-being is your affair. I have as little love for his kind as those unfortunates do.”

Huma was hesitant. “I cannot promise his reaction when you release him. He is quick to anger.”

“A trait of the minotaurs. If they were not constantly killing one another in their contests of strength and rank, I think they would have overrun Ansalon long before this.” She sighed, an action that forced Huma to close his eyes as hot air warmed his face. “Very well.”

With those words said, the minotaur suddenly leaped to life. He did not renew his attack, but rather paused some distance from dragon and knight, the ax ready in his hands. He eyed the dragon warily.

She returned the gaze with something akin to disdain. “You heard everything.”

It was no question, and the massive warrior’s expression indicated to Huma that Kaz had heard all too well. He still did not trust either of them, though.

“I heard. I am not sure what to believe.”

“I easily could have crushed you, minotaur.” The silver dragon lifted one massive claw as proof. Had either one of them felt the force behind it, there would have been little left to mourn.

Kaz turned his gaze to Huma. “You saved my life once, Knight Huma. It appears you have done so again, only this time with words.” The minotaur shook his head. “I shall never be able to sufficiently repay the debt.”

Huma frowned. Debts, again! “I want nothing from you, save peace. Will you put away the ax?”

The minotaur straightened, took one last look at the hulking figure before him, and hesitantly returned the ax to its resting place. “As I have said, I cannot go back. What is to become of me?”

The dragon snorted, sending small puffs of smoke floating. “I have no interest in you. Huma is the one who should decide.”

“Me?”

“You’ve shown excellent judgment so far. Would that more of the earthbound races showed such common sense.” There was no mockery in the dragon’s tone.

Huma felt oddly pleased by the compliment, coming as it did from a creature as regal as the silver dragon. He thought carefully for several moments, tossing about ideas that had half-formed during the trek, and then turned to the minotaur. “We must join the column. If you truly wish to prove yourself to others than myself, you’ll have to tell them what you know about the ogres’ movements and make them believe you.” Huma paused. “You do know something of use to them, don’t you?”

Kaz gave it long thought and then grunted. “I know more than I should know. If you can convince them not to slay me out of hand, I will do as you say. Perhaps what help I can give you will hasten the day when my people are free once more.”

“You’ll have to give me the ax.”

The minotaur let loose with a bellow of rage. “I cannot go among them unarmed! It would be a loss of face! This is not our way!”

Huma’s temper flared. “You’re not among your people! You’re among mine! If you step among them armed with that well-worn ax, there will be no hope for compromise. At the very least, you will become a prisoner. At the worst, you will be dead.”

The dragon leveled a glittery stare at the minotaur. “The knight’s assessment is quite accurate. You would do best to listen to him.”

Kaz snorted and snarled and called upon the names of some six or seven prominent ancestors, but in the end, he agreed to surrender his weapon to Huma when the time came.

The silver dragon spread her great wings. She was a magnificent creature, the very aspect of power and beauty joined into one. Huma had seen tapestries, wood carvings, and sculptures in Vingaard Keep that had sought to capture the essence of the dragons. They were all pale specters when compared to the actual being.

“I was flying to rejoin my kin in northern Ergoth when I caught sight of you. The situation was unique. It interested me, so I decided to land,” she said. “I should move on, but it will not take me far out of my way if I transport the two of you to your destination.”

The thought of soaring through the sky on the back of one of the legendary dragons nearly overwhelmed Huma. He knew that there were knights who fought astride the huge beasts and even talked with them, but Huma had never been so privileged.

“How do we hold on?”

“If I fly slowly, you should have no trouble hanging on with your arms and legs. Many have done it before, although you are the first to fly with me. It will save you much time and hardship.” She lowered her head so that it was level with his own.

Huma would fly! Magius had once said that this was one of his greatest reasons for joining the orders of sorcery—to float among the clouds.

Huma straddled the long, sinewy neck just above the shoulders and could not help but smile at the dragon, who had turned to watch. He knew she understood his enthusiasm all too well. Reddening slightly, Huma reached down a hand to Kaz. The minotaur stared at the offered hand and at the back of the dragon.

He shook his head vehemently. “My people are creatures of the land, sailors of the seas. We are not birds.”

“It is perfectly safe.” The dragon appeared slighted. “A babe could ride with no fear.”

“A babe would be foolish enough. I am not.”

“There’s nothing to fear, Kaz.”

Huma’s remarks stung well, as the knight had hoped they would. If a mere human could face this challenge, then so could he, a minotaur. Snorting furiously, he took hold of Huma’s hand and climbed up. He sat directly behind the knight and did not speak, although every muscle in his body tensed. He gripped the dragon’s neck with his hands and legs.

“Are both of you prepared?”

Huma looked back at Kaz, who stared ahead without seeing. The knight turned back. “As best we can be, I guess.” His heart was pounding, and he felt more like a small child than a Knight of Solamnia. “Will we fly high?”

The silver dragon actually laughed, a deep, throaty chuckle. “Not as high as you might like, but I do not think you will be disappointed.”

She gave the minotaur one last amused glance, then began to flap her wings. Huma watched in fascination as the ground fell away beneath them. Within seconds, the silver dragon was spiraling high in the sky. Huma lowered his visor to keep some of the wind out of his face. Kaz merely held on for dear life and changed neither method nor mind even when the silvery leviathan ceased climbing and finally maintained a slow and steady flight.

Huma raised his visor and leaned as close to the dragon’s head as was possible. “This—this is fantastic!”

“Perhaps you should have been a dragon yourself!” she shouted back. “If you could see the world as I see it!”

She did not try to explain, and Huma did not ask her to. For a brief time, the war, the knighthood, all his problems vanished.

Huma settled back and absorbed the splendor.