"Southern edge of Kothas." Kaz gave him the same story he had given the patrol. The innkeeper accepted it without question, then informed Kaz that he did indeed have a room the two could use. As an afterthought, the stout minotaur asked, "Do kender make good slaves? I can't imagine a thieving little rat like that being good for anything."

"He's adequate. But when I return home, he is going to have to start learning more duties in the stable."

It was clear that the notion of a kender slave appealed to the innkeeper. "If you have trained him to be useful, I might be interested in taking the kender off your hands…"

"I doubt I'll sell him just yet, but I'll keep that in mind."

And if you even touch him while I'm here, Kaz thought, I'll see that you won't have a hand left to beat any slave.

The innkeeper introduced himself as Kraggor. Kraggor, no warrior, obviously, commanded little respect in the eyes of other minotaurs. He served a function and was tolerated, but was low in rank. It was a wonder he had survived the war. A slave, however, would have to treat him as if he were the emperor. Kaz did not doubt that if he left Delbin alone at the inn, Kraggor would try to get the kender for himself. In the stables, Kaz informed Delbin that he had better come with him on his mission. Delbin, of course, was happy to be allowed to tag along, but Kaz wished there were some less dangerous option.

The pair drew stares as they walked the city streets, with most minotaurs reacting either curiously or indifferently to the sight of a kender slave. A few looked at the duo with mild disgust, but nobody interfered with them or treated them rudely.

Nightfall was almost upon them. Kaz wanted to reacquaint himself with some of the nearby areas. It might prove necessary to make a quick, unplanned escape at some point.

"Stick close to me, Delbin," he muttered. "And remember to keep quiet." Sooner or later he was certain Delbin would revert to his old kender mischief.

Memories continued to rise from the depths, memories concerning every aspect of his life. Some small children were playing sticks, a game in which one tried to trick one's opponent into losing his or her staff. It was a precursor to the real training that would begin soon for these future warriors. Sticks had determined moves and certain areas of the staff could not be touched without a point going against the attacker. Children were encouraged to play this and other competitive games from the moment they could walk. Kaz noted the hierarchy already developing among the stick players. He saw one with great potential and two who might also become champions of esteem.

Kaz and Delbin entered a market still busy with bartering. If there was one constant in the world, it was the market-place. Watching his people argue over the price of a new sword or fresh game, Kaz had no trouble envisioning humans in the same milieu doing the same thing with the same sort of gestures and words. He was probably one of the few of his kind who had come to realize just how similar the varied races were. In an ideal world, minotaurs, humans, elves, and the others would live on an equal basis, respecting one another's place in the scheme of things.

He snorted, knowing full well that such a world would be long in coming… if it ever came. The minotaur race was proof enough of that, although they were certainly not the only ones to be faulted.

"Master?" Delbin called, smothering a giggle.

"What is it?"

"That minotaur over there's watching you." To his credit, the kender was subtle about pointing.

"Hmm?" He looked around and let his gaze cross over to where his companion had indicated. He saw no one who looked either familiar or suspicious.

"He's gone," Delbin said, keeping his voice low. "But he was watching you, K-Master."

"You did well. Let me know if you see him again."

They continued through the market, then entered an.area where woodworkers and smiths worked. The smiths were especially busy. By now their counterparts in most human or dwarven cities would be slowing down and preparing to close up for the evening. Here, however, the activity was so great that it was clear there was no intention of quitting until much later in the night. Kaz eyed the activity with some interest. In the days of the war, the smiths had been very productive, as had the shipwrights and others with similar or related occupations. Now, almost a decade after the end of the great conflict, they were working as if war still prevailed.

Now that is interesting, he mused. Working under war conditions when there is no war.

Some of the minotaurs glanced up from their work as he and Delbin passed, but Kaz paid them little mind, caught up as he was in the question of just what his people were doing. Like all minotaurs, he knew that the emperor-all the emperors-preached for the day of dominion. The smiths, the shipbuilders, were always busy, but now they worked as if the war of destiny had been launched at last and someone had forgotten to tell Kaz.

Kaz stumbled, disbelieving. Despite the rumors he had heard from those joining his settlement, he could scarcely believe that the emperor, the circle, and the high priest could be that foolish. A war so soon after the other had just ended? Even with all it had accomplished since the end of the last war, his race had barely recovered. The effects of the Dark Queen's drive for power would be with it-with all the races-for more than a generation.

His thoughts ever more fixed on the subject, Kaz did not notice the three minotaurs who looked him over, whispered to one another, then continued to stare long after most of the others had returned to their tasks. He became aware of them only a few streets and several minutes later, when the leader of the trio took hold of Kaz by the shoulder and spun him around.

The leader had a short, blunt muzzle, mud-colored fur that was thinning in some places, and red eyes that grew redder as he stared at Kaz. "It is you! I had to follow you to make sure! I couldn't let you slip away again!"

"Who-?" began Kaz, but then he, in turn, recognized the minotaur's face. The name escaped him, but he remembered the face from the circus. He also recalled a vicious temper combined with poor fighting skills that chiefly relied on brute strength.

"It's Angrus, Sargas take you! Angrus!" The bull snorted in rage. His two companions grinned.

Angrus. That was the name. Memories stirred. Twice in Kaz's early days in the arena, Angrus had faced him; twice Kaz had humiliated him with easy victories. Kaz had thought little about it, but Angrus, who appeared to have risen not much further in all these years, had evidently spent his whole life nursing a grudge against the minotaur he believed had humiliated him. Rising to Supreme Champion had left Kaz with more than one venomous rival, such as the more skilled Scum. What little Kaz recalled of the minotaur before him included the.fact that Angrus was a stupid brute who could never accept blame for his shortcomings, admittedly a trait common to his people. There were always those in the arenas who saw their defeats as the fault of others who had triumphed simply because they used-

"Tricks! You used tricks against me instead of fighting honorably! Thanks to you, I lost face."

"Which, by this time, you should've found again," Kaz returned. "I can't be responsible for what has happened to you in the meantime." He made to go, but Angrus spun him around again.

"I should've been supreme champion, not you! I wouldn't have run away like you did!"

"Let me go, Angrus. I've no quarrel with you."

"But I have a quarrel with you!"

"Then I'll settle it with you in an arena after I'm through with the business that brought me here." It was a lie, but Kaz hoped that Angrus would be stupid enough to accept it.