Maquesta Kar-Thon Read online

  "We've got to hurry," she told the gnome. "We've got to collect my father, Fritzen, Vartan, and Sando. And we've got to get out of here. I don't want any trouble."

  "Oh, I'd say you've already found trouble, Captain Kar-Thon."

  Maquesta and Koraf whirled to see a gruesome sight. Striding toward them was a bedraggled-looking Mandracore. He was flanked by a pair of merrow, aquatic ogres. Looking as if they could be twins, the ogres each had a tangled mass of hair that resembled dried seaweed. A blue-green tinge to their skin, they had scales covering their shoulders, necks, and parts of their arms. They each wore a leather breastplate that did little to hide their bulging muscles.

  Mandracore, too, wore armor, black leather studded with bits of steel. His face was recently scarred, the most prominent wound being a long, pink welt that ran from just above his right eye down through his cheek. Looking closely, Maq noticed his right eye did not move, and the pupil was glassy. He wore a heavy gold chain about his neck. A large charm in the shape of a closed fist dangled from it. She suspected it was a piece of jewelry taken from the merchant's treasure cave.

  As the pirate chieftain approached, his billowing red cape carefully covered his right arm, and he walked with a discernible limp. She was concerned he hid a weapon, so she brushed in front of Lendle and put her hand on the hilt of her short sword. Koraf growled deeply, the sound rumbling in his thick throat.

  "You'd fight me here?" Mandracore pronounced, as he waved his left arm in an arc. Maq followed his gesture and noted shop owners looking out their windows and passersby pausing to watch. "Why, look, there's a city guard! A rare sight in Lacynos, to be sure. Maybe he'd look the other way, eh, Maquesta? Maybe he wouldn't see you run me through. Or maybe he'd see you draw your blade against this humble and respected visitor and throw you in jail—for a long time. Perhaps you'd end up in Lord Attat's dungeon. I hear he buys prisoners and puts them to work in the arena. I wonder how long you'd last there? Of course, you could ask your first mate. I hear he's a star among the lord's pit fighters."

  "I left you for dead," Maquesta hissed.

  "Ah, and you were very nearly correct, my dear," Mandracore replied silkily. "Bullsharks." He threw back his cape, revealing a stump where his right arm used to be. "If it hadn't been for my trusted ogre friends, the sharks would have eaten all of me. As it was, the beasts had to settle for a few of my sailors—and my sword arm. I was barely able to reach the Butcher, no thanks to you. During the entire voyage back here I burned with a rage I had never felt before. What you did to me was far more severe than what your father did years ago." The pirate snarled, the ale on his breath strong and pungent.

  "We've been repairing the Butcher for days, and with each sunrise I prayed I would see you again. Today, those prayers were answered when I saw your ship thunder into the harbor. If the Perechon were in any better shape than my own ship, I'd take it and leave you what's left of mine."

  Mandracore took another step toward Maquesta, and she made a move to draw her blade. A small hand on her wrist stopped her. Lendle's eyes narrowed, and he shook his head, nodding toward the Lacynos guard.

  Mandracore's not worth it, the gnome mouthed.

  "You owe me Captain Kar-Thon," Mandracore sneered. "You've cost me my sword arm, some of my best sailors, and a considerable amount of coin. If I had stopped your efforts to retrieve whatever beast you were catching for Lord Attat, I would have gathered quite a tidy sum. So, my dear Maquesta, you will make good your debt. Do you understand? Maybe I will collect while you are in port, while what few authorities there are look the other way. Or maybe I will collect while you are on the open sea. But I guarantee you this, Captain Kar-Thon, as sure as the sun rises on the Blood Sea I will collect everything you owe me."

  The ogres brushed by Maquesta, Koraf, and Lendle, the sweaty stench of their bodies filling the air and nearly making Maq gag. Turning to watch Mandracore's small procession, a shiver raced up Maquesta's spine.

  "I should have made sure he was dead," she whispered. "Never leave your enemies with a breath in their lungs." Mandracore the Reaver had important friends in this port city. She knew she couldn't raise a hand against him here, though she suspected he could do what he liked to her and the Perechon with impunity.

  "We have to leave Lacynos soon," she whispered to Lendle and Kof. "Mandracore's enemies have a way of disappearing, and it looks as if I just made the top of his list. He's probably at least a day away from having his mainmast repaired. I mean to be long gone before he can raise a single sail."

  The gnome nodded and scurried after her, once more trying to keep up with her long, swift strides. Koraf took one last look at the harbor and at Mandracore's crippled pirate ship. Then he hurried to catch up.

  As the trio neared Lord Attat's manor, Maquesta noticed the streets were quiet. No one was about in the few blocks surrounding the palace. Doors were closed; windows were shuttered. It was almost as if the neighbors were expecting misfortune. Gritting her teeth, she ignored the nervous feeling in her stomach, and strode to the main gate. A pair of burly minotaurs barred her way.

  "I'm here to see Lord Attat," she barked. "He's expecting me."

  The minotaurs glowered at her, and she returned their stare. "Let me inside now!" she fumed, her hand finding its way to the pommel of her sword. Still, they did not move. Furious, she barked a few words at them in their own language, words she had learned from Koraf.

  Finally, the guards nodded to her, understanding her intent. They stepped aside, allowing her, Koraf, and the gnome to pass. Lendle nudged her hand as they entered the courtyard, pointing out the minotaurs watching them. Maquesta had never seen so many minotaurs milling about in one place. There were more today than after she and the others had broken out of Attat's dungeon. Each was armed, and they seemed to regard her with obvious interest. That Attat felt the need of this many guards to deal with her gave her a large dose of satisfaction.

  She strode purposefully toward the main building where the doors opened for her, and she continued on her course—through the marble-floored hallways where innumerable treasures of art were hung, past the sitting room with its valuable stringed instruments, and into the minotaur lord's immense chamber.

  Attat was sitting on his throne beneath the ki-rin skin on the wall, a cage resting in his lap. He was poking a thin-bladed knife at whatever was inside. The room was too long for Maquesta to make out all the details, though she could tell the hapless creature was gray, perhaps a squirrel or a large rat. The two imposing guards on either side of the minotaur lord stepped closer to their master. As she moved farther in, they gripped their massive spears. Once again, chained to the pillars were Attat's creatures—the great white bear, which growled angrily as she passed by; the griffon and hippogriff, still menacing each other, though the chains about their necks kept them from touching; and a few beasts she hadn't seen before. Among them was a thick reddish-brown snake with golden spots that had wrapped itself about its pillar. Maq guessed if it were uncoiled it would be at least twenty feet long. There was also a man with a hawk's head and with dark yellow claws for feet.

  "A kenku," Lendle whispered, "A most unusual creature who dislikes elves and humans."

  "And minotaurs now, I'll wager" Maquesta whispered back.

  As she, Koraf, and the gnome padded forward, more of the columns came into view. One had chained to it a yellow-skinned ape with large, pink eyes. It must be nearly nine feet tall, she judged as she returned its gaze. The ape jumped back, revealing two more of Lord Attat's captives. Maquesta shuddered. Fritzen and Vartan were chained to the farthest pillar. From the looks of them, they'd been beaten. The half-ogre lifted his head when Maq approached and offered her a weak smile.

  "Greetings, Maquesta Kar-Thon," Attat boomed. "We've been expecting you."

  "What have you done to Fritz and Vartan?" she sputtered. She closed the distance to the dais, the guards moving forward at the same time to make sure she didn't threaten Attat. Closer, Maq could now see what w
as in the cage on his lap. It was a miniature elephant that had gashes on its sides from where the minotaur lord had been poking it.

  Roughly setting the cage on the floor, Attat stood. Not so regally dressed today, the minotaur nonetheless was wearing an expensive robe that nearly matched the deep purple cloak that bunched about his shoulders.

  "What did I do to them? Why, I punished them, of course. They didn't bring you, they didn't bring Bas-Ohn Koraf, and they didn't bring my morkoth." Attat regarded her coolly, showing a measure of contempt. "The deal was for you to bring the morkoth to me. At least you have returned Koraf. There is a match in a few days' time in which I intend to enter him."

  "The morkoth is in the harbor, in the cage you gave us," Maquesta fumed. "I have no way of getting him here. I have no wagon, and I have no large vat of water in which to move him."

  "That can be arranged," Attat replied, thoughtfully stroking the beard on his chin.

  "Nothing will be arranged until I have my father and he has been given the antidote. And I want Fritz and Vartan freed now." Maq's voice was strong, insistent. "I'll need Sando, too. Her father waits for her on the Perechon."

  "Ah, your precious Perechon. My spies in the harbor tell me your ship is in disrepair."

  "My father, Lord Attat? I've kept my part of your grisly pact."

  The minotaur gestured, and one of the guards strode off the dais, clomping to a curtained alcove. The guard drew back the heavy fabric and motioned to Maq.

  "You know the way to my dungeon, don't you, Captain Kar-Thon?" Attat's eyes narrowed to thin slits. "Your father is down there. Bring him up, won't you, Maquesta? The antidote awaits." The minotaur lord reached into the folds of his robe and pulled out the vial containing the golden-colored liquid. "While you are down there, instruct the guards to cage Koraf for me. By the time you and your father have returned, your men will have been released." The minotaur lord motioned toward one of his guards, who jingled the keys on his belt.

  Maquesta glanced at the alcove, then faced Attat. "I would like to acquire the minotaur Bas-Ohn Koraf," she stated in a businesslike tone. "He's an able sailor, and I could use him in my crew."

  "Oh, I consider Bas-Ohn Koraf priceless. He's my greatest fighter, undefeated, and he's not for sale. At any price." Attat glared at Koraf and pointed to the alcove. "Return to your home, slave, and with all due haste. Maquesta's father hasn't long to live."

  Maq looked at Koraf, but the minotaur's gaze revealed no emotion. He stoically nodded to her and strode to the alcove, his hooves clicking harshly on the marble floor. Maquesta, swallowing hard, followed him. The pair made their way down the long, twisting stone steps that led to the dank belly of Attat's palace.

  "I won't have you caged again." Maq's tone was soft, not wanting any errant guards to overhear her. 'There has to be another way."

  "In this city I am Lord Attat's property," Koraf replied. "You don't have a choice. And you won't get your father well any other way."

  When they reached the bottom of the steps several moments later, Maquesta saw the familiar hallway lined with cages. A pair of guards strode up to her, nodding, each taking one of Koraf's arms.

  "We're glad to have you home," one of them taunted as he directed Koraf toward his old cell.

  Maq watched as her first mate was led away. Rage burned inside her, and her mind churned with possibilities. "No!" she screamed before they made it halfway down the dank corridor. Drawing her short sword, she rushed forward. The guards whirled, but not in time. Her blade sank halfway up to the hilt in the side of one. Groaning, the guard crumpled and twitched on the floor. Maquesta pulled her sword free and bent her legs, ready to deal with the other guard.

  The second guard released Koraf and drew his own weapon, a curved-blade sword nearly twice the size of Maq's weapon. Growling menacingly, he hauled it back over his shoulder to swing, and Maquesta darted in, slicing at his abdomen and leaping away before his descending sword could touch her. The guard looked at his stomach incredulously and saw a line of red forming where she had cut through his leather armor. Bellowing in rage, he lowered his head and charged forward, intending to gore her. Again Maquesta darted away, narrowly missing his horns and the swing of his sword.

  She danced around to where Koraf stood and held the sword in front of her, waving the tip and taunting the guard.

  "Don't do this," Koraf warned her. "Attat will kill both of us if the guards die."

  "I'm already committed," she panted. "Why don't you help me?"

  Leaping backward toward the dungeon's torture chamber, Maquesta crouched to meet the guard's next rush. As he closed in, she drove her blade upward, thrusting hard through his armor and piercing the flesh underneath. She gritted her teeth and tugged the blade free, then she dropped to the ground and rolled. The guard was seriously wounded, but he continued to stalk her. From the corner of her eye she saw the first guard start to rise. "Kof!" she barked. "Don't let him get away!"

  She watched Koraf slide forward, bringing his hoof down on the back of the prone minotaur's skull. A crunch signaled that he wouldn't be going anywhere.

  Momentarily distracted, Maquesta was not ready for her attacker's next move. He charged in, with his sword pulled back over his shoulder. He swung in wide, as if she were a fly to be swatted, and though she tried to dodge, the blade glanced off her shoulder. Maq backed up against the wall and looked at her arm. It was not a deep cut, but blood flowed freely from it, covering the sleeve of her tunic. She snarled and looked up at the guard. He took a step forward and raised his weapon again. There was nowhere for Maquesta to dodge now, and his reach was much longer than hers. She crouched, waiting for his next move, then she gaped in surprise as he crumpled to his knees and fell forward, his head thudding soundly on the hard stone. The other guard's weapon was lodged firmly in the middle of his back.

  "Kof?"

  "I couldn't let you die" he said, "though now the blood of more minotaurs is on my hands."

  Maquesta knelt and tore free a piece of the guard's cloak. She wrapped it tightly about her upper arm, trying to stanch the bleeding. "Help me find my father," she urged.

  "And then what?" Koraf posed. "We've killed the guards. Lord Attat will know and will have us both tortured to death."

  "Don't be so cheerful," she said as she cleaned off her sword and sheathed it. She smoothed her tunic, and twisted her sash to cover up a spot of blood. "Attat thought I would meekly obey him and have you caged. He hadn't counted on the fact that his mission already has been too costly. There'll be no more sacrifices made for the minotaur lord."

  Maquesta rushed from cell door to cell door until at last she found the small chamber in which her father lay. "The keys! Quickly." Looking through the barred door, she held her hand behind her back and wriggled her fingers. Koraf took one of the dead guard's key rings and placed it in her hand.

  Fumbling with several keys before she found the one that worked, Maq softly called out to her father, but got no response. Throwing open the door, she rushed inside and knelt by him.

  "Father?"

  Melas's skin was the gray of slate, and his face was gaunt and skeletal. His chest barely rose and fell, and with each breath he took, he made a faint wheezing sound. Maq picked up his hand and noticed how bony it was, and how cold and clammy he felt. Tears spilled from her eyes, and she sobbed so hard she barely heard Kof enter the cell behind her.

  "Father?" she repeated.

  His eyes fluttered open, and he stared at her quizzically.

  "It's me… Maquesta," she said softly. "I've come back for you."

  His cracked lips turned upward in a grin. "Maq?" he whispered hoarsely.

  She nodded and leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "I'm going to get you out of here."

  Rising, she breathed deeply a few times, then reached her arms under his knees and shoulders. Bending slightly, she picked him up and turned to face Kof. Maq adjusted her father's position until his head lay against her wounded shoulder, hiding the blood. "Se
e? Attat won't know anything happened down here," she said smugly, as she padded toward the door, her steps slower under Melas's weight. "Follow me up the stairs—after you've freed any other prisoners he might have down here, and then stay behind the curtain. I'm going to get us all out of here."

  The minotaur looked at her with a puzzled expression on his bull-like brow. "At least let me carry him up the steps," he offered.

  Maquesta shook her head. "There's not much left of him, Kof. He's not that heavy. Besides, I'll be winded by the time I make it back to Attat's audience chamber. If you carry him, I'll not have reason to look so tired. I don't want Attat to suspect anything."

  The minotaur nodded and retrieved the key ring. Maquesta heard the cell doors opening as she started her long climb.

  Pushing the curtain aside, she saw that Fritz and Vartan were still chained to the column. Lendle stood near them, chattering. She glowered at Attat and stepped into the chamber. The minotaur lord held out the vial.

  "Your antidote," he said, running his thick fingers along the smooth glass. He tilted the vial so the torchlight caught the liquid and made it sparkle.

  Maquesta took another step forward, and watched in horror as he raised the vial above his head and brought it crashing to the floor, the golden liquid trickling into the cracks between the marble tiles.

  "Fool!" Attat blustered. "I had no intention of allowing your father to live. Or you! You were only tools to retrieve my morkoth. Guards!" The minotaur lord clapped his hands, and the two guards at his side vaulted down the dais steps and rushed toward her.