Land of the minotaurs

small form darting by. Only when it collided with him did the minotaur take notice of the gully dwarf.

'Sorry, Great One! Galump is sorry!' The dwarf bowed quickly, then ran off, his litter bag falling to the ground as he rushed away in near panic.

'You! Come back here!' His cry went unheeded. Hecar watched as the gully dwarf disappeared into the shadows. He was one of the quickest of the short creatures the minotaur had ever seen.

Hecar had more important things to concern himself with than chasing a gully dwarf whose only crime was carelessness. The dwarf would likely be punished for losing his bag, and in the process littering the very streets he was supposed to clean. But despite the compassion for unfortunate creatures that Hecar had learned from his sister's mate, the minotaur could do nothing to help save pick up the bag and place it neatly to the side.

He was just in the process of doing that when he heard the clink of metal. Tensing, Hecar stretched his hands around toward his back. Most minotaurs favored heavy battle-axes and many, including Hecar, carried them in back harnesses. All he had to do was reach a few inches more, and the axe would be in his grasp, ready to taste the blood of any adversaries.

'May Sargas watch over you, Brother,' intoned a voice.

Hecar lowered his hands as he turned. He knew the imperious tone, as did all minotaurs. A cleric of the Holy Orders of the Stars. To humans, a minotaur cleric might seem a somewhat humorous sight, for, unlike Hecar and most of his kind, who wore kilts and armor but little else, a cleric was usually clad in a solemn black robe covering him or her from foot to head. The hood and shoulders of the robe were crimson. Both colors were said to be favored by Sargas himself.

Only the cleric's muzzle was visible, the rest of his face shadowed by the hood. His hands were clasped together and, as he walked toward Hecar, there was the faint clink of metal, indicating that under his garment the robed figure was both armed and armored.

Behind him trailed a pair of warriors with the look of the guard on their cold features. Members of the guard were generally recruited from the more fanatical warriors in the armies. This pair carried long swords as opposed to axes and looked ready to run Hecar through if he dared resist.

And what is it I'm supposed to resist? wondered the traveler. 'May your ancestors guide you, Brother.'

'You have business with Jopfer de-Teskos?'

'I sought out an old friend, Cleric. He wasn't home.'

'So I know. How do you know him, Brother?' The cleric reached up and pulled back his hood. The cleric was surprisingly gaunt for a minotaur and much younger than Hecar would have guessed. However, the chill eyes warned that it would be a mistake to cross him.

'He's an old friend. I've just arrived here and thought I would visit since I was close by.'

'Did you come by ship?'

A slight sound behind him warned Hecar that the three figures were not alone. He gave no sign that he had heard the others sneaking up behind him, but shifted so as to get his hands as close to his axe as he dared without giving his movements away. 'Aye, I came from a ship. Been away for a while.'

The cleric nodded, mouth set. He neither smiled nor frowned. 'The Gladiator, wasn't it?'

Hecar twitched before he could control himself. He had given the name to the old male on the dock, not long before. 'Aye, Gladiator.'

The cleric nodded, closed his eyes, and a moment later uttered, 'The Gladiator, lost at sea more than a decade ago. Nearly all hands lost with it.' He opened his eyes and stared without emotion at the tense Hecar. 'Therefore, you could not have just arrived on it.'

Hecar said nothing. His hands were close to the handle of his axe. Any nearer and he would be committing himself to battling a cleric of high standing in the orders, not to mention several members of the guard. Yet, what could he do? He was not as clever as Helati's mate. Not nearly as clever as Kaz.

'What is your name?'

He was still debating how he should answer when one of the warriors behind him announced, 'His name's Hecar, of the clan Orilg, Holiness. I thought I recognized him earlier.'

The voice was so familiar that Hecar dared peek over his shoulder. There were three minotaurs behind him, one with a sword and the other pair with axes. It was one of the latter who had spoken. The tall, scarred figure grinned at him.

'Your house, is it not, Captain Scurn?' the cleric asked.

'The guard is my clan now, Holiness.'

'Scurn?' When last he had seen the disfigured minotaur, Scurn had been an object of pity, defeated in combat by Kaz. The other minotaurs had been forced to lead their companion by hand from Solamnia all the way back to the empire, so broken was he by his loss. This incarnation, however, did not look at all defeated. In fact, he looked even uglier and more vicious than Hecar could ever recall.

'We are always happy to welcome a lost one back into the fold,' commented the cleric. 'Come with us, Brother Hecar.'

Scurn and the other minotaurs closed in.

Hecar reached for his axe… and found that something held it firmly in its harness. The minotaur pulled harder but, despite his great strength, the axe remained stuck fast.

The gully dwarf? He was the only one who had come within touching distance of Hecar. Had he done something to the harness when they had collided?

Hecar glanced around, judged the expressions on the guards, and decided that he was surrounded and defenseless.

What, he wondered, would Kaz do under these circumstances? Of course, being far more clever, Kaz would not have made such a journey in the first place. He had warned Hecar from doing it, but the latter had been too curious and headstrong.

What would Kaz do in his position? There was really only one choice. If Scum was the captain of this lot, going voluntarily with them did not vouchsafe Hecar's continued well-being.

Snarling, he charged the cleric. The robed figure was surprisingly swift, so much so that he was easily able to dodge his attacker. The two guards beside the cleric moved in to seize Hecar, as did the three others. Hecar swung a fist wildly and succeeded in catching one guard on the underside of the jaw. His attacker stumbled backward, but did not fall. The other guard who had stood with the priest seized Hecar's arm and twisted it viciously.

Roaring in pain, Hecar still managed to keep his footing. He brought one foot up and struck his adversary in the back of the leg, just below the knee joint. The guard fell to his knees, losing his grip.

'Alive!' shouted Scum. 'Alive!'

A heavy foot caught Hecar in the small of the back. He fell forward. Something hard and flat struck him on the head just behind the horns. The world spun.

'Not too hard, Captain. Save something for the circus.'

Darkness began to creep over Hecar. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, thinking, What's happening? What by Kiri-Jolith's axe is responsible for this madness? I've done nothing!

Then he was struck hard again. Oddly, the last thing he heard was a voice, a calming voice, say, 'There is a balance to maintain. I am sorry.'

Chapter 2

Kaz's Mission

Still no word from Hecar, Kaz thought as he gazed over the small settlement. 'Small' was perhaps not the proper word anymore, for there had to be at least sixty minotaurs in the vicinity and another thirty down by the river. What had started out as a home for Helati and him, with Hecar, her brother, deciding to remain nearby, had grown into a village. Most of the newcomers had only just arrived during the past year and a half, and the population increased every couple of weeks. Word had somehow gotten back to minotaurs disenchanted with the