Amber and Ashes - Margaret Weis [10]
Then the raging waters tore her from his grasp. His bellow of frantic desperation deepened, became a roar of despair.
Galdar sank beneath the floodwaters of time and knew no more.
Galdar woke to voices and to fear. The voices were deep and gruff and came from quite near him.
“Mina!” he cried, as he staggered to his feet, grappling for the sword that he had grimly taught himself to use with his left hand.
Two minotaurs wearing the battle armor of the minotaur legions jumped backward at his sudden rise and reached for their own swords.
“Where is she?” he raved, foam flecking his lips. “Mina! Where is she? What have you done with her?”
“Mina?” The two minotaurs stared at him, bewildered.
“We know of no one by that name,” said one, his sword half-in and half-out of the sheath.
“It sounds human,” growled his comrade. “What is she? Some captive of yours? If so, she must have run away when you fell from that cliff.”
“Either that or she pushed you,” said the soldier.
“Cliff?” Galdar was the one bewildered. He looked to where the minotaur pointed.
A steep cliff reared high above him, its rocky face barely visible through the heavy foliage. He looked around and found himself standing in tall grass beneath the shady branches of a linden tree. His body had left a deep gouge in the soft, moist loam.
Far from the sun-baked desert. Far from the mountain.
“We saw you fall from that great height,” said the minotaur. He shoved his blade back into its sheath. “Truly, Sargonnas must love you. We thought you were dead, for you must have plunged over one hundred feet straight down. Yet here you stand with naught but a bump on your head.”
Galdar tried to find the mountain, but the trees were too thick. He could not see the horizon line. He lowered his gaze. His head bowed, his shoulders slumped.
“What is your name, friend?” asked the other. “And what are you doing roaming about Silvanesti alone? The elf scum left in these parts do not dare attack us in the open, but they are quick to ambush a lone minotaur.”
“My name is Galdar,” he said, lifeless, dispirited.
The two soldiers gave a start, exchanged glances.
“Galdar the One-armed!” one exclaimed, his eyes fixing on the stump.
“Why, then, not only did the god save your life, he dropped you right at the feet of your escorts!” said the other.
“Escorts?” Galdar regarded them warily, confused and distrustful. “What do you mean … escorts?”
“Commander Faros received word that you were coming, my lord, and dispatched us to meet you to see that you reached headquarters safely. Truly, we are well-met, all praise to Sargonnas.”
“It is an honor to meet you, my lord,” added the other soldier, awed. “Your exploits with the Dark Knights are the stuff of legend.”
“Now that I recall, there was someone called Mina. She served under you, my lord, did she not? A minor functionary?”
“The fall must have addled you, my lord. From what we hear, this Mina has been dead for a long time, ever since Sargonnas defeated and put to death Queen Takhisis.”
“May the dogs chew on her bones,” added the soldier grimly.
Galdar looked around one final time for some sign of the mountain, the desert. For some sign of Mina. Futile, he knew, yet he could not help himself. He looked back then at the two minotaur, who were waiting for him patiently, regarding him—one arm and all—with respect and admiration.
“Praise to Sargonnas,” Galdar said softly, and, squaring his shoulders, he took his first step into his new life.
racing herself for death, Mina gave the knife a sharp thrust.
Death watched her with amusement.
The blade changed to wax that almost immediately began to melt in the hot sun. The warm wax oozed out between her fingers. Mina stared at it, stupefied, not understanding. Lifting her eyes, she met the eyes of the god.
Her legs trembled. Her strength failed her. She sank down onto her knees, dropped her head into her hands. She could no longer see the god, but she heard his footsteps