“You really have no need to fear me. If you like, I’ll leave my axe here as a sign of good faith.”

The elder was about to accept the offer when Tesela, with a harried look suddenly on her face, spouted, “No! That-that won’t be necessary.”

“See here, cleric,” the old man snarled. “We appreciate all your help in this past month, what with Gia and my wife becoming sick and all of us worn out, but you’re a guest here as well. I wish you’d let me do what I was chosen to do.”

The cleric looked downcast. “I apologize, Drew.”

“Don’t do that.” The graybeard smiled. “When you do that, I feel as if I just cursed Mishakal herself.” With a sigh, he turned to Kaz and said, “If she feels you should keep your axe, then I guess that’s all right, although I can’t for the life of me fathom what you might be needin’ it for.”

Kaz nodded his thanks. He was surprised that a cleric of Mishakal would speak on his behalf and countenance a weapon besides. A weapon was always a weapon, and to a healer like Tesela, it represented everything she worked against.

“Kaz?” Delbin was squirming in his saddle. “Can’t I get off now? I promise I won’t go near anything. Could I bring the horses down the river there so we can all get some water, because I don’t know about them, but I could really use some. It’s been a dry ride, and the sun was shining and I’d really like to-”

The minotaur looked at Tesela and the elder, and Drew nodded. “As long as he brings the horses downriver and keeps away from our things. We have little enough without a kender getting his sticky little hands on our things.”

Delbin looked at his hands sulkily. “My hands aren’t sticky. I even wash them on occasion, and I said I wasn’t going to touch hardly anything because Kaz here doesn’t like it, and-”

“Don’t push your luck, Delbin. Be nice and quiet and go water the horses.”

“I’ll go with him,” Tesela offered.

It was clear that Drew would have preferred that the cleric take charge of the minotaur, but he nodded permission nonetheless. With some hesitation, the gray-bearded man held out his hand to Kaz. “W-Welcome.”

The minotaur’s hand swallowed up the old man’s. They shook and Kaz released him. Drew took a moment to make certain that his hand was still attached to his arm and then asked, “What will you be needing?”

Kaz rattled off a list of food and some basic goods he thought the small settlement might be able to supply him with. “I’ve got the gold to pay for it.”

Drew nodded and began leading him toward the river-bank. ‘That will be greatly appreciated. We’ll be able to buy a few things from the river traders and possibly even send someone down to Xak Tsaroth. We lost so much before and during our journey down here.”

“You came from northern Solamnia?”

“From a place called Teal, west of Kyre.”

“Kyre?” Kaz’s eyes widened. “I fought near there-on the side of Paladine, of course.”

The elder lowered his voice. “It would be wise not to mention anything about the war, no matter which side you fought on. There have been… troubles.”

Grunting, Kaz said, “I hear disturbing things about Solamnia, elder, especially concerning those who dwell in Vingaard. I’d have thought the land would be on the way to recovery by now.”

Drew’s tone grew bitter. “It would be… if things had continued. At first the knighthood directed people in the rebuilding of their homes and the revival of the land. They spent their own money to buy food from those regions spared the greatest atrocities at the hands of the Dark Lady’s minions, and they hunted down the scattered bands that refused to surrender. Things seemed well on their way…”

“But?”

The old man’s eyes grew vague, as if he were looking back into the past. “It wasn’t just the knighthood, but those who lived near Vingaard as well. We can all understand bitterness and the fact that some people cannot return to a way of life the younger ones don’t even remember. Did I tell you that I was once a merchant? Pfahl That’s neither here nor there; my mind’s going! You want to hear about the troubles. Hold on a moment.”

At the elder’s summons, a burly man with a bow came trotting over. “Gil, here, was our protection in case you proved dangerous. He was a master archer in Kyre, but you know what happened to that city. Now Gil is our chief procurer of meat. A better hunter you will never meet.”

Despite his savage looks, the archer seemed to be a pleasant man who took Kaz in stride. “Elder Drew overstates my skill. With most of the woods to the north either dead or torn apart, the wildlife fled to these parts. I practically trip over game every step I take.”

Drew shook his head in denial. “Our archer underplays his skill. I think Chislev, who watches over nature, or Habbakuk, who is lord over the animals, guides his hand. They know that he takes only what is necessary for food and never hunts for pure sport.”

“As is only right,” Kaz commented. He could see that the archer was a man of honor and fairness.

The elder explained Kaz’s needs, and Gil said he would work on supplying them. With a nod to each of them, the hunter departed.

Drew watched him go. “You will find few men like him as you near Vingaard Keep, my minotaur friend. As I was saying, the aid stopped, not all at once, but so quickly that many were caught with nothing. The lands produced little food, and many of the forests were useless save as huge supplies of kindling. Then Vingaard began sending out its knights with a different mission in mind. With great efficiency, they began to gather whatever raw materials they could. They started demanding labor for the money spent. Those who could not pay, and that was most of the populace, were turned into serfs.”

“Serfs?” Kaz could not believe that of Lord Oswal, or even Bennett. The two were, in the end, believers in the Code and the Measure, and from what the minotaur had learned during his time with them, the enslavement of others was something that was forbidden. It was a law that Vinas Solamnus, founder of the knighthood, had himself created.

“I see by the look in your eyes that you disbelieve some of what I say, minotaur. Unfortunately, it’s all sadly true.” Drew’s tone suggested that he had experienced much of this firsthand.

“I’m not denying your words, human. It’s just that I have fought by the side of the Grand Master and his nephew. Whatever their faults, I can’t believe they’ve slipped so far. You make them sound little better than the roving marauders.”

“More like the greedy lords of Ergoth, I would have said, minotaur, but then I was a merchant in that land for some time. I fear, however, that the Knights of Solamnia will not stop there, as you yourself should know. I have seen the proclamation of the Grand Master, Kaz, and some of the others have as well, I’m certain.”

Kaz felt his throat tighten. “And?”

Drew smiled, which did not ease the minotaur’s anxiety. “A merchant learns to smell a poor investment if he wants to stay alive. I, for one, have no intention of trying to drag you back to Vingaard Keep, where I doubt they’d reward me anyway.”

“How comforting,” Kaz retorted. He was pleased with the former merchant’s frankness, but something that he could not put his finger on still disturbed him about the human. But the elder was no magic-user, from the look of him. Kaz was wondering if his paranoia was acting up.

“I sometimes begin to wonder if it was not Paladine himself who was defeated, and that the stories of Huma of the Lance are just that… stories.”

The minotaur shook his head. “They’re true, for the most part, I suppose.”

He found it hard to speak. The elder studied his inhuman visage for a moment and said quietly, “Yes… you were there, weren’t you? I’ve heard one or two tales about Huma of the Lance that mention you. I get the feeling that most of the storytellers, however, dislike having a minotaur share the glory with one of their own kind.”