Over his shoulder, Caramon whispered vehemently, "Sturm, wake up!" He could feel the Solamnic move his head and begin to stir.
As the figures approached, Caramon saw that they were a motley assortment including several human ruffians, a few ogres, a phalanx of minotaurs, and a mysterious caped, cowled figure, hunched over, who stood almost out of view toward the rear. Caramon couldn't get a good look at this furtive figure, who occasionally hissed orders at the rest, unaccountably creating the impression of some slithering, serpentine creature.
Caramon shifted his attention back to the ogres. He felt certain they were ogres, yet they were strange and unlike others of that ill-begotten race. They were shorter and fatter, with stringy flaxen-colored hair, greasy gray skin, and webbed hands and feet. Caramon was taken aback by the sight of ogres alongside the minotaurs, for in olden times, the minotaurs had been slaves of the ogres, and the two brute races were usually regarded as dire enemies of each other.
The humans were dressed in ragged if colorful patchwork clothing. They were lean and sun-parched, but obviously rugged. From their waists dangled cutlasses and assorted seagoing utensils. The ogres and minotaurs likewise carried conspicuous tools and weaponry.
Caramon jerked his shoulder again, and this time he felt Sturm's head rise groggily. He sensed Tas struggling with his bonds, but the warrior knew from experience that the kender's efforts were in vain.
The minotaurs took charge of the boarding party, elbowing their way to the front of the group. Though there were only four or five of them, the bullish creatures, garbed in harnesses and skirts with gemmed rings through their ugly snouts, dominated the group. Short, rust-colored fur carpeted their massive bodies, and horns curved sharply upward from their wide brows. Their cloven hooves made a harsh clatter on the deck.
Two of the minotaurs stepped toward the trio of prisoners, pausing a few feet away. They spoke to each other in voices that were muted for minotaurs but whose deep, gravelly tones carried easily to Caramon's ears.
"Be these the three?" rumbled one. He carried several axes and a wicked-looking knife stuck into his leather straps.
"Fool! Of course they are. Do you think the Nightmaster would make such a mistake?"
The creatures' foul smell acted like powerful smelling salts for Caramon, clearing his senses of their previous grogginess.
The second one must be the leader, Caramon thought. Around the minotaur's thick, muscular neck gleamed a tight collar of polished stones. At his waist, he wore a loincloth of girded metal. He carried only a barbed flail.
"They look pathetic. What threat could they possibly pose?"
"I only do the master's bidding, Dogz. I do not read his thoughts."
"Which is the one?"
"That's what we must find out."
The others hung back in a circle like wolves cringing at the edges of a blazing campfire. With their huge bulk and seven foot height, the minotaurs loomed over Caramon, obscuring his view. The cowled figure remained in the background, enshrouded by fog, so that Caramon couldn't be sure of its outline. Only occasional hisses and swishing utterances reminded him that there was someone, or some thing, back there.
Struggling to sit erect, Caramon noticed another vessel through the mist, a sleek longship off in the distance. He could just make out the topsail poking through the curls of mist. He guessed the ship was about three hundred yards away.
"Caramon! What's going on?" That was Sturm's voice.
From his angle, the Solamnic couldn't see much, and from the sound of his voice, it was clear that he was still dazed.
"Minotaurs and some human rabble," whispered Tas, although he could see even less than Sturm.
"Pirates," muttered Caramon.
"Silence!" barked the leader. The minotaur lashed out with his flail, catching Caramon on the side of the face and making a deep strawberry cut on his cheek. "We're no pirates, fool!"
At that, the two minotaurs retreated back into the fog to where the caped figure stood. From the muttered growls that floated through the air, it appeared that the minotaurs were consulting with this peculiar specimen. The others moved closer to the mast, tightening their circle around the three prisoners. They had bloodthirsty looks in their eyes that left Caramon distinctly uncomfortable.
"Where are we?" asked Sturm in a low voice, sounding more clearheaded now.
"I was hoping you'd have an answer to that question," replied Caramon grimly.
"If only I could consult my maps," chimed in Tasslehoff.
Caramon said nothing. Best to keep silent, he thought to himself. No sense letting this piratical band know how confused they were. The big warrior had a feeling that any signs of weakness would only add to their trouble.
The two minotaurs who had been conferring with the cowled figure returned, towering over him. The one called Dogz reached toward Caramon with thick, wide hands, and ran them over the front and back of Caramon's body, searching for something. Caramon struggled, but he could do little to resist. He spat defiantly into the face of the huge, smelly minotaur.
He heard chuckling from the onlookers as the minotaur reared back in surprise and, with the force of a sledgehammer, kicked the Majere twin in the face. Caramon spat out a bloody tooth and doubled over in pain as Sturm cried out, "By my honor, you will live to regret that cowardly blow!"
"That goes double for me!" shouted Tasslehoff. "When his brother hears about this, you'll be lucky if you aren't turned into a horny toad. He'll—"
"Leave off, Tas!" Caramon managed to gasp.
But the minotaur paid no heed. Already Dogz had moved on, bending over Sturm and groping through the young knight's clothing and gear with his rough hands. This is not the one either, thought Dogz. This human carried nothing on his person, no weapon or purse.
"Hunh," Dogz grunted, holding up one hand, which dripped blood from the matted wound on the back of Sturm's head. In disgust, he slapped Sturm across the side of the face. The Solamnic took the blow stoically, as he had the search, saying nothing.
"That's
