The guardsman’s sword wavered.

The battle-axe caught him in the chest and across the neck. It sliced through the breastplate without slowing. Slowly he toppled to the ground, his head only loosely attached to his neck.

Cursing, Kaz stood his ground and waited for some sign of a new foe. Nothing.

Moments later, several knights, Bennett’s aide Grissom among them, came running in his direction. Kaz turned toward them with relief, only to find half a dozen swords pointed in his direction.

“What’s this?” he growled.

“What have you done to the man on watch here, minotaur?”

It was obvious that neither Grissom nor the others knew exactly what had transpired here. Kaz knew that some of the knights distrusted him, but not to this extreme.

“Talk to your commander, human! I was the one who discovered our danger!”

Grissom hesitated. “Why would you betray them? You once fought for the same side.”

Kaz sighed. How many times would he have to explain this?

“Have those weapons lowered, Sir Grissom! The minotaur is an ally, a valuable one!”

At the sound of Bennett’s voice, the other knights stood aside. Grissom saluted his superior. “My apologies, milord! All we knew was that you had come into the camp warning of danger!”

“Do not apologize to me, Grissom. Apologize to Kaz; it was his honor you impugned.”

“Milord?”

Bennett looked at his aide critically. “Is that so difficult to understand? Must I apologize for you? I certainly will, because he deserves it. After all, he may have saved all our lives.”

Grissom exhaled sharply and turned back to Kaz. “I apologize for my quick judgment, minotaur. I assumed that there was only one person who could be responsible for this.”

“They killed the man who stood guard here,” Kaz explained to the man, “and one of their own took his place so that no one suspected. We’re fortunate we caught them before they could really get organized.”

“They tried to attack the camp only seconds after I was able to warn the men,” Bennett interjected. “They were hardly expecting the entire camp to be awake and ready. One wave came in. We killed perhaps six or seven and wounded a few more. We lost only one man besides this one. They fled almost immediately afterward. The cowards!”

“I don’t think we’ve seen the last of them. This man was one of the warlord’s Black Guard, Bennett.”

“There seemed to be quite a few of them roaming around in central and southern Solamnia. Kharolis, too. Raiding runs have increased noticeably.” To Grissom, Bennett said, “See if you can find the body of our brother who gave his life here. Before we leave tomorrow morning, he and the other man will be given rites. Double the guard for the rest of the night.”

“As you command, milord. What of this one?” Grissom tapped the body with the tip of his blade.

“Have someone gather the enemy dead. We’ll have a separate pyre for them-and wish them ill on their way to their mistress. If we leave them as is, they might become breeding ground for some plague, and that’s the last thing we need.”

Two knights were left to stand guard while all but Grissom went in search of their dead comrade. The aide saluted and returned to camp to take care of the other orders Bennett had given him. The Grand Master’s nephew stayed with Kaz.

“How did you know he wasn’t one of us? I don’t know half the men in my command. Too many of them are from outside the Order of the Rose.”

“Est Sularis oth Mithas.”

“ ‘My Honor is my Life.’ It’s the code by which we live. What about it?”

“He couldn’t tell me what it meant if his life depended on it-which it did.”

Kaz had a theory about the dwarven axe’s name, Honor’s Face. What had the dwarf been like who had forged such a unique weapon? Had he been aided by some mage, or visited, perhaps, by the god Reorx himself? Kaz now believed that the mirrorlike flat side of the axe head apparently reflected the faces and forms of only those with honor, those who could be trusted. Enemies, beings without honor, cast no reflection-a handy tool that the minotaur wished he had known about earlier. He wondered if Sardal Crystalthorn had known of it.

Sardal Crystalthorn. He had almost forgotten about the other elf. Was Sardal in league with Argaen? Kaz decided it was doubtful, or else the elf never would have given him the dwarven battle-axe. Giving such a fine weapon to Kaz, in addition to saving his life, was not the act of a dark elf.

“Minotaur?”

Kaz blinked. “What, Bennett?”

“It might be good if you got some rest. You look nearly asleep on your feet.”

It was true. Buried in his thoughts, Kaz had been drifting further and further from consciousness. Elves and magic battle-axes could wait until morning. Sleep was a luxury that Kaz had been unable to afford of late. He needed to catch up now, before they came upon Argaen Ravenshadow.

They were not bothered again that night, though the watch remained fully alert. The dawn came with Kaz and the others feeling only slightly refreshed. A full day of rest was really in order, but no one was willing to sacrifice that much time. There was a sense of urgency where this mission was concerned.

As they drew ever nearer their destination, Kaz began to worry about the human, Darius. The young knight rode close to Tesela and often talked to her, but Kaz, glancing back now and then, also knew the man was looking up into the heavens more and more, with a fatal stare. He knew what Darius was looking for: the stone dragon that had left him for dead.

Kaz had seen that look before, during the war. Darius was waiting for the beast to come and try to finish the task. It was almost as if he felt that it was unfair he should have survived when the others had perished. Such beliefs led to foolish, even suicidal, actions. The Knights of Solamnia, Kaz thought, were too eager to die. What bothered the minotaur more was that he knew his own race was susceptible to such compulsions.

Even Kaz was becoming too pessimistic. In an effort to ease his mind, he reached into one of his pouches for one of the dry biscuits the knighthood had provided. They had little in the way of taste, but they were solid and filling. Long used to such fare, Kaz discovered that his fondness for them was actually growing-another sign, he was sure, that his mind was rattled.

What he touched in the pouch was not one of the biscuits, however, but rather a scrap of parchment. He grasped it by one end and pulled it out. It was a rolled parchment that someone had sealed with amber. Where, Kaz wondered, had he- Of course! With all that had happened to him, he had forgotten completely about this little item. This was the parchment that Sardal Crystalthorn had asked him to deliver to Argaen Ravenshadow. All this time… He wondered what message the dark elf had sent along. Again the minotaur wondered: Could Sardal be in league with the magic thief?

Kaz decided to break the seal and see what Sardal had written.

The amber proved to be more of a problem than he would have expected. A flick of his thumb should have broken it off, but his nail kept sliding away. In exasperation, he pulled out a dagger and worked on it. The dagger, too, slipped from the seal.

Cutting around the amber turned out to be a tricky maneuver, what with trying to hold on to the reins and the bouncing of his horse. Nonetheless, he managed to trace a circle, and the seal fell to the earth. Kaz put away his dagger and started to unroll the parchment.

A golden void opened up before him.

“Kaz!” someone cried, possibly Delbin.

“Pala-” The minotaur had no chance to complete his oath before his horse rode blissfully into the void. The search party, everything, vanished.