Amber and Blood - Margaret Weis [106]
Mina gazed long at the two artifacts, one of consuming darkness, one of enduring light. She wrapped them back up, reverently and carefully.
“Is the way to Godshome far, Father?” she asked. “I am so very tired.”
“Not far, daughter,” he answered. “Not far now.”
hairy finger pried open one of Rhys’s eyelids, causing him to wake with a start, startling Galdar who nearly poked out Rhys’s eye. The minotaur withdrew his hand and grunted in satisfaction. Sliding an enormous arm beneath Rhys’s shoulders, he heaved Rhys to a sitting position and thrust a vial between Rhys’s lips, dumping some sort of foul-tasting liquid into his mouth.
Rhys choked and started to spit it out.
“Swallow!” ordered Galdar, giving him a thump on the back that caused Rhys to cough and sent the liquid trickling down his throat.
He gagged and wondered if he’d just been poisoned.
Galdar grinned at him, showing all his teeth, and grunted, “Poison tastes a lot better than this stuff. Sit still for a moment and let it do its work. You’ll be feeling better soon.”
Rhys obeyed. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t feel strong enough yet to be prepared for the answers. His jaw ached and throbbed, though it was no longer broken. His diaphragm was sore, every breath hurt. The potion seeping through his body began to ease the pain of his wounds, if not the pain in his heart.
Galdar, meanwhile, took hold of Atta’s muzzle, gripping it tightly while another minotaur in soldier’s harness, bearing the emblem of Sargas, deftly smeared brown glop over her wound.
“You’d like to bite my hand off, wouldn’t you, mutt?” said Galdar, and Atta growled in response, causing him to chuckle.
When the minotaur was finished with his ministrations, he nodded to his companion. Galdar released the dog and both minotaurs sprang back. Atta rose, somewhat wobbly, to her feet. Keeping a distrustful eye on the minotaur, Atta came to Rhys to be petted. Then she limped over to the green cloak. She sniffed at it and pawed the cloak and looked back at Rhys and wagged her tail, as though saying, “You’ll fix this, Master. I know you will.”
“Atta, come,” Rhys said.
Atta stayed where she was. She pawed again at the cloak and whined.
“Atta, come,” Rhys repeated.
Slowly, her head and tail drooping, Atta limped painfully over to Rhys and lay down at his side. Putting her head on her paws, she heaved a deep sigh.
Galdar squatted beside the body. He moved slowly and stiffly. His blood-matted fur was slathered with the same brown goop his men had spread on Atta. Galdar lifted a corner of the green cloak and looked down at Nightshade.
“Sargas commands us to honor him. He will be known among us as Kedir ut Sarrak.2”
Rhys smiled through his tears. He hoped Nightshade’s spirit had lingered long enough to hear that.
The minotaur soldiers gathered up their belongings, making ready to leave. No one wanted to stay in this place any longer than necessary.
“Are you fit to travel, Monk?” Galdar asked. “If so, you are welcome to come with us. We will help you carry your dead and the mutt, if she won’t bite,” he added gruffly.
Rhys gave grateful assent.
One of the minotaur lifted the small body in strong arms. Another picked up Atta. She barked and struggled, but at Rhys’s command, she quit fighting and allowed the minotaur to carry her, though she growled with every breath.
“I want to thank you for your help—” Rhys began
“I had nothing to do with it,” Galdar interrupted. He waved his good hand at his soldiers. “You can thank this mutinous lot. They disobeyed my command and came after me, even though I had ordered them to stay behind to wait for me.”
“I’m glad they disobeyed,” said Rhys.
“If you must know, so am I. Go on ahead,” Galdar told his men. “The monk and I cannot walk as swiftly. We will be safe enough. There are only ghosts left in this valley now, and they cannot harm us.”
The minotaurs didn’t appear to be too certain of this, but they did as Galdar commanded, though they did not move quite as swiftly as they could have, but kept within