Richard Knaak: Land of the minotaurs

"Definitely out of balance," remarked the gray man, now standing next to Kaz. "The past should be past by this time."

Eyes widening, the minotaur glared at his peculiar gray companion. "I know you, don't I? I've forgotten you, somehow. I remember about Huma and -" His words were cut off as the shrill voice cried still louder. It was too much for him to stand. "By Paladine and Kiri-Jolith! Can nothing be done about that ?"

"I can do nothing." The gray man held up his hands, which were bound by what seemed a twisted version of his own staff. He seemed indifferent. "You must complete what you have left undone."

Kaz did not care to ask what the gray man meant, his gaze already turning back to the mountainous trail. The cry for help was stronger, closer. He wished he had his axe, then realized it was in his hands. That was the one thing that so far did not disturb him; Honor's Face always returned to his hands when he most needed it. One of its magical qualities.

"Paladine preserve me!" Kaz grunted, starting up the trail.

"Perhaps he will," replied the gray man from behind him. "He understands the need for balance."

This made the minotaur turn, but when he looked, the man in gray was gone. Snorting his annoyance, Kaz listened again to the cry. It was stronger, closer, but now he thought he heard the sound of running feet and the heavy breathing of determined pursuers. Someone was after the voice.

"Did you hear that, Kaz?" asked Delbin, but the kender was nowhere to be seen.

Keeping the axe ready, the minotaur picked up his pace. If there were others, he had to hurry. They might catch up with their prey at any moment.

Despite his hurried pace, though, it seemed as if he walked through a miasma. Ever so slowly, Kaz made progress along the path, but with each renewed cry, he knew he would be too late.

Then the cry came again, so close that he knew its source

must be just out of sight. All he had to do was reach the point where the path before him twisted to the right. There was still time.

Suddenly Kaz was at the turn. He raised Honor's Face in preparation for a swing and followed the twist in the path.

A shadow loomed over him.

It was a dragon.

Kaz woke with a start, realizing that everything had been but a dream. The minotaur cursed. It was still dark outside. Kaz estimated that he had been asleep for perhaps an hour, possibly two, but no more. He peered around the camp, muttered in annoyance, and tried to settle back down to sleep.

He did not hear the single figure that had been observing the camp move off into the night.

"I told you that story earlier."

"I want to hear it again."

"Not now, Delbin."

"Please? It'll help pass the time, and I always like to hear about it, especially the part-"

"All right." It would be easier simply to relate the tale… again.

"Thanks, Kaz!" piped in Delbin. He reached for his pouch. "I should write it down this time! I always forget It would-say, I wonder where this came from?"

Kaz eyed the newfound object with some trepidation, but it turned out to be only one of his own fire flints. Giving the kender a look, he reached out and retrieved his property. "Just forget the book for now, Delbin, or I won't tell the story."

That gave the kender pause. Kaz sighed, then began, "In the beginning, there were the ogres. They were not the animals we know today, but beautiful creatures, the envy of all other races, including the elves. They built glorious cities and created great works in all fields. All respected their accomplishments and abilities."

"What happened to them?" asked Delbin. He asked the same questions at the same points in the story every time Kaz related it.

"They were decadent, vain. They wasted their achievements, instead playing with power that should've been cultivated in order to cement their greatness. Some of them, however, saw that they were destined for savagery if they continued like that and tried to speak sense to their brothers. The others wouldn't listen, and the race sank further and further into degeneracy. They fell from the grace of the Great Horned One, Sargas, so the story goes, and he finally cast out the ogres, condemning them to be the animals they truly were. Those are the ogres of today, degenerate monsters who can't even recall the wonders of their own ancestors."

"But the minotaurs…"

"It's said that Sargas took pity on those who tried to remain on the path of glory." Kaz disliked mentioning Sargas; he no longer followed that god, who many believed was also known as Sargannon, consort to the Dark Queen. Still, this was the story as it had always been told, and Kaz was a believer in the traditions. "Reaching down, he took those most worthy and placed them far from the other ogres. In order to mark them as his true children, he reshaped their forms, making them look like himself."

Kaz leaned forward so that the kender could get a good close-up of his features. It was a theatrical habit he had picked up from his father, who had told the story to him many times when Kaz was a child. The kender shivered, but more in pleasure at hearing the tale than because he was really scared.

"We've taken up the destiny that the ogres tossed aside." Kaz closed his eyes. " 'We have been enslaved but have always thrown off our shackles. We have been driven back, but always returned to the fray stronger than before. We have risen to new heights when all other races have fallen into decay. We are the future of Krynn, the fated masters of the entire world. We are the children of destiny.' That's an old minotaur saying."

"I heard it was the Graygem that changed ogres into minotaurs," Delbin cheerfully interjected. "It just moved through the area, and after it left there were ogres and there were-"

Kaz growled. "Minotaurs weren't created by magical happenstance!" He looked at the kender. "If you want to hear the story again, you'll never repeat such foolishness to me, understand?"

"Yes, Kaz. Sorry."

"Good. Now try to keep quiet for a little while. We have a long day ahead of us."

"What's the minotaur kingdom like?" asked his companion, already ignoring his injunction to be silent.

"Not now, Delbin. Later."

His tone was ominous, and the kender obeyed. The rest of the day passed without incident, as did the night that followed. They were able to get an early start the next morning. The minotaur could scarcely believe their good fortune. Usually, it seemed, his journeys were fraught with daily peril.

"See those mountains in the distance?" Kaz asked, feeling less moody than the day before. "Those are the first signs that we're nearing the minotaur kingdom. We've still got the last part of the journey, though."

"I like mountains," his companion commented, staring at the distant peaks. "Especially ones with caverns."

Kaz shuddered. He did not like caverns. Too many things had happened to him in caverns. "I don't think we need to worry about caverns."

"You found a dragon in a cavern once, didn't you?" Delbin grew more excited. "It was just after the war with the Dark Queen, when dragons were supposed to be gone, but you accidentally found a whole dragon, and she was trapped by this evil sorcerer who-"

"Take a breath, Delbin." Kaz had told the kender the tale once long ago, but had refused to tell that one ever again. He'd hoped Delbin had forgotten. Thinking of dragons always made him recall the silver dragon who, in human form, had loved Huma of the Lance. Memories of Huma were painful, for the knight had been-would always be-Kaz's truest friend. "I don't want to talk about that now."

"But you flew a dragon once, didn't you? I remember you mentioning that, too."