Kender, Gully Dwarves, Gnomes (17 page)

He twisted around and locked gazes with the minotaur. The massive creature calmly walked
over to the sword and picked it up. Turning it so that the hilt pointed toward Torbin, the
minotaur returned it to him. The knight blinked, then accepted the blade. The minotaur
returned to its carving, staring once more out at the Blood Sea while it worked.

Torbin led his horse so that the minotaur's view would be blocked. The creature looked up
at him. Torbin pointed the sword at the minotaur.

“Will you stand and fight? I've always been told that minotaurs were courageous, fierce
warriors, not cowards!”

The man-beast's nostrils flared, but it made no attempt to attack. Instead, it put down
one stick and began work on another. Torbin grew angrier. How was he to prove himself if
his adversary refused to fight? His sense of honor prevented him from striking an opponent
who refused battle.

The minotaur chose that moment to talk. Its voice was deep and tended to rumble like
thunder. “I would rather talk than fight, Knight of Solamnia, who is too far from home.
Please, join me.”

It took several seconds for the words to sink in. Tor-bin stared at the minotaur. With
those first words the minotaur became a person, not an “it” like so many people, including
Torbin, considered the individual members of the minotaur race to be. Torbin accepted the
invitation without thinking. It did not occur to him until he had dismounted and sheathed
his blade that the minotaur could have easily skewered him several times.

“Sit here.” His unusual host indicated a spot next to his own. Torbin followed his lead.

“Who are you? Why do you disturb me? I have done nothing save sharpen a few sticks.” The
minotaur was genuinely annoyed, as if this were his personal beach and no one else's. He
paused in his labors to inspect the latest stick. Grunting, he threw it away.

Torbin, who had not expected to play question games with a full-grown minotaur, took some
time in answering. He was still not sure that he was not sitting in some sort of elaborate
trap. Minotaurs were highly intelligent creatures who enjoyed proving their superiority
over other races.

The minotaur repeated his questions. Torbin saw no reason not to relate the truth. The
creature nodded as he listened to him go over the story of his arrival in Dragon's Point,
the fears of the people there, and what the town elders had asked of him.

The creature shook his head. "Humans! So ready to fall prey to the shadows of fear. Your
race has a mind;

it should learn to use it."

Torbin did not disagree, but felt the case was rather overstated. Men, he told the
minotaur, were not all the same. Some were brave, some were fools, some had honor, some
were thieves.

“Let us talk of honor.” The minotaur's gaze was oddly

intent. He had completely abandoned his woodwork. Having never studied the minotaurs or
their way of life,

Torbin allowed the man-beast to go first. The creature turned his eyes once more to the
sea. Torbin looked, but could see nothing but the eternal motion of waves rolling toward
the shore.

“Minotaurs, like some men, believe that honor is first and foremost.”

The knight nodded. “Without honor, a man's life is worthless. He is damned. The tale of
Lord Soth is legend among the Knights of Solamnia.”

“I have heard the tale. The knight who abandoned his mate for an elf woman, condemned now
to haunt the halls of his castle, reliving his crimes to his family and friends.”

“That is essentially correct.”

The man-beast seemed to consider something. “Was he an honorable man before this great
transgression?”

“To my knowledge. As I understand it, he was high ly thought of by all among the orders.
That is what makes his crime that much more terrible. To abandon honor so abruptly. It is
unthinkable.”

“Apparently not. Soth did so. I wonder what he felt?”

Torbin shrugged. Only Soth knew, and no one was going to take the risk to ask him.

The minotaur blinked. “On the islands, honor is everything. It sets us above the lesser
races. The elves claim they are honorable, but they are perhaps the greatest tricksters
other than kender. Worse yet, they will not fight. They run and hide, shouting all the
while that it's none of their concern, they had nothing to do with it, it wasn't their
fault. In the end, they are an old, cowardly people.”

Torbin, who had never met an elf face-to-face and had heard a number of stories concerning
them, could not judge how much truth the minotaur's statements contained. He did know,
however, of the rather egotistical attitude of the minotaurs in general.

“One day, the minotaurs will swarm from the islands and conquer all of Krynn. Our leader
claims that. His predecessor claimed that we are the supreme race.”

Fearing the conversation was steering toward the blind rhetoric of superiority the
minotaurs were famous for, Torbin dared to interrupt. “You were speaking of honor?”

The minotaur nodded. "On Mithas and Kothas, we fight

for our place in society. In the name of honor, we slay one another. A minotaur who does
not fight has no honor. He is a coward, a non-being."

“A cruel society. The Knights of Solamnia would never permit such useless bloodshed.”

The minotaur gave a fierce snort. Torbin froze, sure that the man-beast was preparing to
jump him. As the snorting continued, the young knight realized the minotaur was laughing.
There was no humor in his laughter, though.

“I have heard many tales of the Knights of Solamnia. You are well respected by my people.
There are stories of bands of knights who have fought on, refusing to yield their
position, until all are dead. Forget that in many circumstances they could have retreated
to better ground, to fight another day. I have heard of knights who have taken their own
lives because they have shamed themselves before their fellows.”

Torbin's hand went to the hilt of his sword. “What you say is true; there are such tales.
Yet, you twist them so that they sound like acts of - ”

“Blind pride and stupidity. Are honor and pride really so important to you, young knight?
If a friend died because you were lax, would you leave the Knighthood?”

“A knight who fails in his duty is not worthy of his title.” The quote by one of his
instructors came to Tor-bin with little difficulty.

“Could you not make up for your mistake?”

“The friend would still be dead. It would still be my responsibility.”

The minotaur sighed, a sound much like a roaring wind. “How long would you go on paying
for that mistake? Ten years? Twenty? If you should save a dozen lives, would you still
punish yourself for that one?”

“Your question is beyond the point of ridiculousness.”

“Is it?” The man-beast studied his own hands. “Would you run a man through from the back?
A man who did not even know there was a hint of danger?”

Torbin gasped. “A minotaur might slay a man in such a way, but a Knight of Solamnia would
never do such a foul deed! I would challenge him!”

“Indeed? What if you knew this man could easily outfight you? What if you knew that, if he
survived, he would cause the deaths of many?” The minotaur's eyes now

bore deep into the young knight's. “I ask again, are honor and pride such good things?
Must we always do 'the right thing'? ”

Torbin did not answer. He was confused. The minotaur's words made some sense, yet, they
could not.

The man-beast turned away from him, an almost sad look in his eyes. Torbin waited, but the
minotaur would not speak. Instead, he commenced once more with his carving. The knight sat
and watched him for a few minutes more, and then he stood up. The minotaur paid him no
mind and went on carving another shaft. Torbin returned to his horse and mounted up.

He rode away without looking or speaking to the minotaur again.

The mayor, the chief fisherman, and the tax collector were all waiting for him. As he rode
up to them, he noticed how their eyes kept returning to the sword in his sheath. He
remembered his earlier promise and gritted his teeth. The mayor stepped forward.

“Is the beast dead, then? Would that I had been there! We feared for you - such a silly
thing! Did you severe his head from his body? Campos!” The chief fisherman trundled
forward, picking his yellowed teeth as he walked. “Have some of your boys drag the carcass
back here! We'll put it where all can see it!”

“The minotaur is not dead.”

Torbin might well have demanded the mayor's firstborn child by the look on the man's pudgy
face. The chief fisherman looked grim and spat. The tax collector smiled knowingly.

“Not dead?! Wounded? Run off, has he?”

This part was even more difficult for Torbin to get out. “I did not fight him. We talked.”

“TALKED?!?” all three shouted in one voice. A number of villagers popped their heads out
of windows and doorways to see what the noise was all about. A few began muttering and
pointing in Torbin's direction. Someone laughed harshly.

“I do not think he will harm you.”

“Coward!” The mayor raised his fist, though his distance to the knight did not shrink by
even the minutest amount. “I should have you run out of Dragon's Point!”

Torbin was turning red with anger. On top of everything else, he did not need idiotic
backwoods fishermen calling him a coward for no reason at all. He pulled out his sword
with one swift motion and tucked the point neatly under the plump man's chin. The mayor
let out a gurgle and froze. Villagers began pouring out of their homes, though none moved
close enough to lend the stout, blustery man a hand.

“I did not come here to be insulted. You know very little about the situation as it really
is. If it will satisfy you, I'll keep an eye on the minotaur. Should he attempt to cause
any harm, I'll deal with him. Will that suit you?” In truth, he could not have cared less
if it did or did not. This village, this whole region could be damned for all he cared. It
stank. The people stank even more.

The chief fisherman whispered something into the mayor's ear. The mayor nodded as best he
could, considering the circumstances. The tax collector joined in. Breathing a little
slower now, Torbin removed the point from the mayor's throat. After several seconds of
swallowing, the man was able to speak.

“It - it has b-been decided that your suggestion is quite reasonable - ” He paused as
Torbin's grip grew tight around the hilt of the sword. “ - I mean REALLY reasonable.
Therefore, we will let you deal with the situation as it stands. Provided - ” The mayor
hesitated again until he felt it safe “ - provided that you give us your oath that you
will kill the creature at the first sign of hos-hostility.”

Torbin sheathed his sword and eyed the three in disgust. “Agreed.”

The meal he received that evening was far inferior to the one the night before, though
Torbin was unaware of it. He had a great desire to leave this village. He was sick of fish
already and sick of these people. The minotaur was better company than these thieving
worm-diggers, despite his maddening questions. Were it not for his pride, the young knight
might have ridden out of the village there and then. As it was, he merely retired early,
relieved to be away from the inhabitants of this godforsaken village and anxious to see
what the next day would bring.

Sunrise saw him far from the village, nearing the shore where the minotaur made his home.
The man-beast was there; in fact, he looked as if he had not budged from the

spot since yesterday. As usual, he was carving. Torbin wondered why the ground was not
littered with short spears from his previous efforts. Perhaps the minotaur used them for
hunting at night, the knight reasoned.

He steered the horse toward the minotaur. The animal snorted its displeasure at being
forced to go peaceably toward what it considered a major threat. Training won out, though.
Torbin was master and must be obeyed. The minotaur continued to gaze out at the sea so
intently that the young knight was unsure whether the creature knew of his presence.

As if on cue, the minotaur spoke. His gaze remained fixed on the Blood Sea. “Welcome back,
Knight of Solamnia. You're early.”

Torbin had not been aware that he had had an appointment, but he chose to say nothing.
Today, he wanted to talk to the minotaur, find out more about the man-beast's homeland. By
his manner, the minotaur was unlike many of his race. The tales of bloodthirsty, arrogant
monsters was too consistent to be entirely false.

Buried in his subconscious, hidden by a number of excuses, lay the true reason for his
visit; Torbin's mind was now riddled with doubts about himself and that which he had
believed in until now.

“ I have come to a decision today.” The knight blinked. “A decision?” The minotaur spoke
as if Torbin's words had gone

unheard. “I have come to a decision today. Honor and pride are nothing without reason. It
is not an abrupt decision; in fact, it is the same decision I made long ago. There is a
time to fight, a time to give up one's life for another, and a time to run. Tomorrow, the
run will be over.”

“Run?” Torbin climbed off his horse very quietly lest he destroy the minotaur's chain of
thought. The man-beast ignored him. He seemed to be watching every wave, marking every
turn of the breeze.

“Minotaurs must fight for their place in society. A minotaur who does not fight does not
exist. He shames his family. They call him 'kenderwhelp' or 'elf-bastard.' Even 'manling.'
He is shunned by those who know him and cursed by those who do not. Might makes right;
honor is all.”

The minotaur abruptly turned to Torbin, who had forgotten

to sit, so intent was he on following the other's words. “Tomorrow, honor will be
returned. No longer will they hold their heads in shame.” The final word sounded almost
like a curse. The minotaur threw his latest effort far into the sea. He watched it hit
with an unruly splash and then vanish from sight.