Theros was frightened, but he forced himself to remain calm.
Sargas, watching him, actually smiled. You are brave. I like that. This time, I will swallow my pride and prove to you that I am a god of unparalleled power.
As he spoke, the minotaur grew larger and larger, until his form straddled the entire ship. There was still no actual sound, but the words pounded inside Theros’s head. Suddenly, the minotaur’s arms grew longer, and sprouted feathers. Theros could not believe his eyes. Within seconds, the colossal minotaur had changed into a giant black crow. It took to the air, a red glow outlining its form. It flew above the ship, and then, claws extended, it dove down toward Theros at a terrifying speed.
The gigantic bird would tear Theros apart. He couldn’t move, not because he was courageous, but because he was frozen with terror. The crow hurtled toward the very spot where the minotaur had stood, then, at the last instant, changed back to the minotaur. Sargas stood before Theros, and smiled.
Theros could not believe, could not comprehend what he had just seen. He rubbed his eyes, pinched himself (to ensure that he was awake). Still the minotaur stood there before him.
Sargas bent at the waist, stared straight into the boy’s eyes. Two days ago, Theros, you stood on the beach, a boy in a village whose destiny it was to be a fisherman. You had sense enough to detest such a life. You threw your lot in with the minotaur warriors. That pleased me a great deal and I began to keep my eye on you.
Yesterday, you revealed yourself to be a champion of honor. You could have let the human warrior plunge his knife into the back of the minotaur, who was-after all-your enemy. Instead, you saw the cowardly act for what it was, and warned the captain in time. Again, you pleased me.
You are a human whose life is promising. I am here now, revealing myself to you, in order to guide you on the correct path.
Theros looked up into the pools of darkness that were Sargas’s eyes. His mind fell into the pools, diving into the center, seeing everything and nothing.
Theros believed. “What am I to do, Lord Sargas?”
Sargas straightened. You must at all times remember honor. Bring honor to me by bringing honor to yourself, and recognize honor for the true virtue that it is. Learn the art and skills of warfare, and be aware that you are a human of destiny. Do not cast away your life, but take it and use it, and bend it to your will, as you did on the beach two days ago, and as you did yesterday on this ship.
I will come to you three times in your life, Theros, this being the first. You will have no warning of these visits, but they will come at moments of crisis, so that I can help you learn the path I wish you to take.
Without warning, the minotaur once again turned into the black crow, whose wings seemed to be made of fire. It flew into the air. Theros followed the glowing bird as it rose higher and higher into the night sky, until it became just a speck, replacing one of the stars.
Theros made his way back to his berth below the deck. He intended to stay awake and go over the events of the past day in his head, to make some sense and order of it all. Instead, he slid into a deep, deep sleep.
When he awoke, he found the minotaur crew marveling over a black crow’s feather they’d discovered on the deck. They were too far from land, they said, for crows to be flying over the ship.
Book Two
Chapter 5
“A good morning to you, Master Smith.”
“Bah! Why is it that you humans must always try to grow flowers out of crap? It is a horrible day. The rain does not cease, and the mud does not cease, so why do you say the morning is good, Theros?”
The minotaur glared at the young man, who was tall and sturdy for his eighteen years. His arms were well developed, his hands large and capable. He kept his curly hair short, his face clean-shaven, as was the custom for humans in minotaur servitude.
“It is a good morning because it is a day of battle, Master Smith,” Theros said.
The smith shook his horned head and snorted. “I doubt that the elves will attack today. It does not seem to be weather to their liking. I’d wager on battle tomorrow. That means we have an immense amount of work to do. I will work on the arrowheads. You work on the spearheads. We can never have too many. Warriors use them as if they were rocks lying at their feet. They never seem to notice how long it takes to make them!”
Theros grimaced. “You spoil me, Hran. You know I hate to do arrowheads. They require such detailed work! But you have a harder time with them than I do. Your hands are far too big. Let me do the arrowheads. You do the spears.”
“You see, you are learning. Knowing who is good for what job is how you get the work done. Now stop talking and start working. You humans are always talking.…”
Theros turned to stoke the fire. The battlefield forge had been set up the day before, but this was the first day they could use it. The fire took almost a day to build up enough heat to be useful.
The minotaur Hran was the master weapons-smith and armorer to the Third Minotaur Army. The army had campaigned most of the summer months, waging war against the elves in the forests of Silvanesti. A year ago, a group of minotaurs had decided that the coastal area would be ideal for minotaur settlements. Led by a sea pirate named Klaf, these minotaurs had built a walled village on the coast.
It was the first minotaur settlement on the continent since the Cataclysm had removed the land links between the minotaur homeland and the rest of Ansalon. The plan was to have the village grow into a town and later into a coastal fortress. Once entrenched, the minotaurs would be impossible to uproot, and home territory advantage would be granted to the minotaurs in any defense. The elves would have to strike while the minotaurs were still establishing their new colony on Ansalon.
The elves had done just that. Acknowledging that the minotaurs were masters of the sea, the elves were building up their strength, preparing for an all-out attempt to retake the coastal area using inland armies. The minotaurs would have to fight for this ground.
Klaf, the minotaur in command, petitioned the Supreme Circle for an army to conquer the elves. If the elves could be defeated, then the coast and sea were the minotaurs’ for the taking. From there, the minotaurs could conveniently raid most of Ansalon.
The Emperor, through the Supreme Circle, awarded Klaf the command of the minotaur army and ordered him to remove the threat of elves from the site of the colony. It was stressed that the honor of Klaf’s entire clan rested on the success of this campaign. There was only one small problem. No combat-ready minotaur army could be spared. The Third Army was a ceremonial and parade ground army, normally housed at the capital in Lacynes. The Third Army had never seen battle. It would take a monumental effort for Klaf to turn the Third Army into battle-ready warriors.
During the last year, Klaf had done just that. For seven months now, the force had campaigned against the elf units in the area, slowly and inexorably pushing them back inland. Klaf had seen victory in the offing and then, two weeks ago, his spies brought him word that a new force had arrived-an elven army of eight thousand that threatened to challenge the minotaurs in open battle. Although weaker in infantry than the minotaurs, the elves possessed excellent archers and their light cavalry could wreak havoc among the slow-moving minotaurs.
Klaf was firm in the belief that only amateur soldiers plotted strategy and tactics. Professionals studied logistics. He knew that archers were his army’s weakness. The booty taken from the first few battles enabled Klaf to hire mercenaries-human archers-to round out his force.