I, Dacien

A Story by Onyx Tao

Copyright 2011

Released under the Creative Commons

Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike License

http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/

Chapter Six

Desolation

Zebra woke, as he had so often in the past week, alone. The Great Lord kept few humans, and those that he had, all had quarters below him. After ... after his master had given him away, to his master's brother, his new master, no, he needed to think of Dacien as his master now, his only master. Chelm had given him away, sent him away, because he was sick, because he was too hard to care for, because ... it hardly mattered to him, anymore. Dacien had kept him, but more and more Dacien was with the Great Lord, and Zebra was terrified of him. Chelm's father, Dacien's father, and a minotaur everyone was fearful of, strange and great, and even his kindness was hard to bear. He seemed to know, before Zebra could speak, everything. Could tell he was afraid, promised Zebra that he need not fear, that nothing would hurt him ... but Zebra wasn't afraid of that. Hurt? He was a wrestler, a champion, retired as a champion, and he tried not to think of his old master with Leopard but he couldn't stop seeing it. Them. Together. Leopard, always Leopard, in his place, Leopard, his replacement.

Dacien was - had been - was - a kind master, but more and more, his time was the Great Lord's, learning magery, learning ... and learning things that Zebra had known forever. Dacien was young, and not young, and there was some mystery that nobody would explain to him, how Dacien could know so much, be so old, and yet not know such simple things. "Do not concern yourself with it," the Great Lord had said, and Zebra struggled to obey, but how could he, when Dacien asked such strange questions, that any minotaur should know, and he did not ask in jest but actual ignorance, as if he'd come from Imperial ...

No, not Imperial, feral, feral, feral. Some things Zebra had, finally, painfully, learned not to think about.

As if he'd come from feral lands, and not civilized territories.

Zebra stretched out, a luxury on the hobble, because he was not secured to it. That had made him uncomfortable, at first, as if he might fall off, or out, in his sleep and shame his new master, but the Great Lord had decreed it so. When Zebra had begged him for the hobble back, the Great Lord had laughed at him. It had seemed like an innocent question; the Great Lord had asked him if there was anything he wanted to be more comfortable, and he'd asked for his hobble, and the Great Lord had thought it was a jest. It was his new master - no, his master, just his master - who had told the Great Lord it wasn't a jest. And the Great Lord's amusement had vanished, leaving the coldest gaze Zebra had ever gotten from him. "Then get him one, Dacien. But he may not be restrained on it." The Great Lord had left, and Zebra had not seen him again for weeks.

Zebra had finally managed to ask his master if the Great Lord was angry, and he wasn't sure about the response. Moderately angry, but not at you. But hadn't he been the one to upset him? Which was silly, of course, of course the Great Lord could be angry and not at him but if not at him, then ... at his previous master?

Zebra would rather lose his hands and feet, lose his tattoos, than cause trouble for Chelm, and he was afraid he had, but to ask would only bring more attention to it, and that would be just as bad, for his previous master Chelm, for his master Dacien, and maybe even for Zebra himself. It had been so easy to forget with Chelm, Chelm had taken everything - everything - but Chelm had given everything back to him, Chelm had given himself to Zebra.

But Chelm had given Zebra to Dacien, and so taken everything away. Dacien and the Great Lord had gone to a ceremony, and Dacien had told him he would be back, and to wait. So he waited, until day turned to dusk and dusk to night, and he could hear the servants in the lower part of the house close for the night. He could ring for them, have them bring him his dinner, Dacien had instructed that he may do so, but he didn't. He wasn't hungry, not for food.

A strange minotaur woke him; a large white one, sometime in the night. "Wake, human. You are Zebra, you must be, those markings are unmistakeable."

"Yes, Sir," he whispered.

"You are to rise, dress, and come with me."

What was there to say but yes, Sir, to rise, to dress, to go? But at whose command?

The minotaur brought him just outside of the city maze itself, where the Great Lord waited ... waited for him? Zebra shuddered at the thought he might have inconvenienced his Master's Master. The Great Lord, seeing that, spoke to him. "I beg your forgiveness," the Great Lord said, and Zebra fought the urge to look behind him. "There were any number of urgent details to see to last night, and they were taken from me at the last, very late ... and I did not think of you until this morning, and that is entirely my fault," he said. "You are Dacien's, and Dacien has been sent," he paused, considering. "Sent on an errand, he must see ... he must see ..." and stopped. "It does not matter, where he has gone, only that he has, and that he had to go," the Great Lord resumed. "Until he returns you will be in my care, Zebra."

"Yes, Sir."

The gray minotaur paused for a moment. "I am going to touch you, Zebra. And you may feel something. Or you may not, but it will not hurt." The minotaur's hands were gentle, and so like Chelm's that Zebra trembled under the touch. "There. And now, sweet Zebra, until I take my hands off, you will call me Teodor."

"Yes, Teodor," and Zebra trembled with the word, too.

"Do you feel anything?"

Zebra shook his head. "Just your touch, Mah - Teodor."

"That's fine, just as it should be," Teodor whispered. "Do you wonder what I'm doing?"

"A little," Zebra said.

"Just a little? Chelm must have held you tightly, if you have so few questions," Teodor sighed. "Who would think I would grow to miss them, eh? I take care for beautiful stripes, Zebra, for all things around me fade to this colorless gray, until they are just shapes seen in fog. Watch my bulls, for they will fade to this color over the coming weeks; I cannot afford the effort to ward them all as I am warding you now."

"But if it is just a few moments ..." started Zebra, and then he stopped. "Forgive me. Te-Teodor. I spoke out of place."

"No," sighed the gray minotaur. "It takes but a few moments to establish it, but every now and then, I must turn my attention back to the warding, renew it, over and over and over. Each time, it will last longer, and in a few weeks I will need only to refresh it once a day, but it is no trifling matter to do this."

"Then you should not waste your time on me, Teodor," Zebra said, appalled.

"I do not waste my time, Zebra. You have given yourself to Chelm."

"My master is Dacien," Zebra whispered, astounded at his own temerity in correcting the Great Lord.

"Yes, and you have given yourself to Chelm," the mage said. "And so it is Chelm's responsibility to hold you safe; when he could not, he gave to you Dacien, for he could not bear to give you to me." The hands withdrew. "There. Did you feel anything?"

"No, Great Lord."

"And that's not unusual," the Great Lord said, perhaps in an attempt to be reassuring. "Nor would it be unusual for you to sense something later. If you do, or you think you do, or you think you may, you must come to me and tell me, at your earliest convenience, and mine."

"Yes, Great Lord."

"Sir is perfectly appropriate, Zebra," the Great Lord said, with a faint sigh.

"Yes, Great Lord."

The Great Lord blinked, and then put his arms at his side. "Zebra, I am certain, entirely certain, that you mean to offer me only the greatest respect."

"Yes, Great Lord."

"But I do not understand how you think that addressing me as great lord when I prefer sir is respectful. It may be that you are right to do so, I simply would like to hear your reasoning in the matter."

"Great Lord, my previous Master told me that I was always to address you, very specifically, that way."

The gray minotaur seemed to consider that for a moment. "Although I am, again, entirely certain that he had his reasons to dos and was undoubtedly correct at the time, you will note that circumstances have changed. I doubt that he considered that you might fall into my possession, for example."

"Great Lord, I was ordered to so address you," Zebra said, wondering if this was a test. "And I have not been commanded otherwise."

The gray minotaur nodded. "I see, and your obedience is commendable. I revoke that command, as your Master. You are free to address me as ..." and then he paused. "As you think best," he said finally, and Zebra wondered what the Great Lord hadn't said. Those piercing gray eyes stabbed at him for a moment, and then he nodded. "Say nothing now. Take the time you need to think about how best you can serve your Master." The odd muzzle twitch that served minotaurs for a smile danced across his face, and then his more usual expression, one of deep concern, returned. "I am not going to be able to deal with all of this ..."

"Lord Fog?" The gold minotaur next to him said quietly.

"And when I have I been Lord ... no, no, I know. I beg your forgiveness, Oz. I suppose I'm not used to feeling quite like this."

"Overwhelmed is undoubtedly too strong a term," the minotaur started, but the Great Lord cut him off.

"It's a perfect word."

"You have always managed everything yourself, My Lord. House, slaves, your schedule, duties, everything."

"And?"

"You are busier."

"I had noticed. But I believe Lord Green manages a much more crushing schedule than I do."

"He delegates, My Lord," the other minotaur observed quietly. "He delegates the matters of his house to his Master of House. He delegates his security and travel arrangements to his Master of Guard. His humans are managed by his Master of Slave. Leaving him to focus on the many, many things that only he can do."

The Great Lord took a breath, and then let it out. "And I am delegating insufficiently, then."

"Yes, My Lord."

"You recommend, then I appoint a Master of Slave."

"Yes, My Lord."

"To help me with this single human."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Because I don't have time even for that."

The gold minotaur paused, considering. Even Zebra could tell that the Great Lord was not happy about the conversation.

"No, My Lord," he said clearly. "You do not. There are clearly complexities here that I do not grasp, and they will take your time ... and time, yours and ours, is our most precious resource. You clearly have some issue with Zebra, Zebra has some issue with you, or Grandmaster Chelm, or Mage Dacien, and I would be remiss if I did not inform you that there are those competent to sort out such matters other than yourself, My Lord."

"Are there."

"Yes, My Lord, there are. But your skills as a mage and researcher are unique."

The gray minotaur let out a breath. "I suppose it is too much to hope that you included a prospective Master of Slaves in my retinue."

"I did not," the gold minotaur said, with a tone that suggested to Zebra he was vastly amused. "But by happy coincidence, My Lord, there is a bull with considerable experience available."

"Happy coincidence."

"Very much so, My Lord."

"Oz, please. This isn't helping me."

"Benelaus, My Lord, has extensive experience managing humans."

"Fortunate. Warrior Benelaus?"

"My Lord?" answered a smaller brown minotaur.

"Oz informs me you have some experience with humans?"

"Yes, My Lord. I served under Thermaste's Master of Slave, Warlord Coes.- I managed fifty-six humans on a vinyard."

The gray minotaur nodded. "I find myself in need of a Master of Slave. Would you be willing to serve me as such?"

"My Lord, that's usually a position for a warlord."

"You feel you lack the capability to do so?"

"No, My Lord, I can, but .. I beg your forgiveness, My Lord. I would be honored to serve as your Master of Slave." The brown minotaur dropped to one knee. "My Lord."

"Then I so appoint you," Teodor said.

"I will not fail you, My Lord."

"General Osaze," Teodor said. "Will you release my Master of Slave from the guard?"

"No," the gold minotaur said calmly. "I will detach him, but of course, I shall recall him, should I need his services."

There was a moment of silence, and then Teodor said, "Yes. Of course. A much better idea. Thank you, General."

"It is my pleasure to serve you, My Lord," the gold minotaur said cheerfully.

"No doubt," the mage said. "Benelaus, please join me in the carriage. Bring Zebra."

"Yes, My Lord."

The carriage ride was ... strange. The Great Lord rather perfunctorily ordered Dapple and Zebra to sit, Dapple by him, Zebra by Benelaus, pointing out that the carriage was not designed to carry persons on the floor. Dapple ... Zebra hadn't had much chance to talk to the minotaur slave, but he'd wanted to. The Great Lord practically ordered Zebra and Dapple to look out the windows, at the tunnel, and once Zebra had, it was hard not to look at the decorations. But why decorate a tunnel?

Even a tunnel as long as this one?

Zebra didn't ask, though, instead listening to Benelaus, and answering, quietly as the minotaur carefully drew out the details of his time with Chelm, and Dacien.

They stopped at a hostel just outside the Ourobouros side of the tunnel. The Great Lord and his immediate bodyguard got rooms within, the rest of the troop were stationed in a barrack. Zebra was astonished when he discovered that the Master of Slave was somehow the only minotaur to have his own room, other than the Great Lord, of course, but even the Great Lord would have guards in his room while he slept. All the others were sharing rooms, two to five guards per room. The Great Lord was traveling with nearly fifty bulls in what Zebra, if he understood correctly, was a recently expanded guard and even a new Master of Guard. The hostel could only hold twenty-eight of them.

That Benelaus got a large room, then, was even more surprising to Zebra. This room could easily sleep three or even four more minotaur, but instead it was just Benelaus, and the single human slave.

Him. Zebra. Now alone, with ... yet another Master. Zebra suppressed a sigh, and looked around the room for a hobble, and he laid himself out on it.

"You could sleep there," Benelaus said, sitting down on the bed. "But ... let us suppose, for a moment, you were with your previous Master, Chelm. Is that where you would want to be?"

That was an easy one, thought Zebra. "I would want to be wherever he put me, Master." Zebra could almost feel the minotaur thinking.

"Chelm just may have done too good a job with you," Benelaus said, finally, swinging himself fully up on the bed. "What I want is for you to be here, on the bed, with me."

Zebra got up, and approached the bed. Benelaus patted the quilt, and Zebra got up, and sat where Benelaus had indicated.

"There. Is this more comfortable than the hobble?"

"Master, whichever you prefer is best," Zebra whispered.

A hand stoked his head. "I see ... Teodor was right. I shouldn't be surprised, really. Don't worry about it, Zebra," Benelaus said softly. "It's my problem, not yours. Stay here." Benelaus got up, undressed, hung his clothing over a set of bars that were there ... apparently just for that purpose, and then walked back over to the bed.

And then he was in the bed, and pulling Zebra closer to him. "This, too, will be comfortable," he whispered to the human, and Zebra felt the familiar and unfamiliar embrace close around him. Familiar, as it was very much like Chelm had held him, and unfamiliar, since the minotaur wasn't Chelm. Benelaus was smaller than Chelm, a soft white closer to the Great Lord than the harsher, starker coloration of, say, Dapple. Even the scent, pine and musk, was different, even as it was so similar that it woke every yearning Zebra had ever had for his previous Master.

Chelm.

Zebra started shaking as he remembered the first time Chelm had rewarded him by sharing his bed. He had been ... no, he couldn't think of that, he wasn't that anymore, but he had been so difficult, his Master so surprisingly patient teaching him how to obey, when he did, finally, he hadn't realized how wonderful it would be, how relaxing it would be, how ecstatic it would be. How every inch of him would feel new, how he would need his Master with him, by him, in him. Benelaus surely felt him shaking, but the powerful arms didn't falter, and the minotaur said nothing. Maybe Benelaus understood.

Zebra's comfort was Chelm. If the room was hot, or cold, or quiet, or loud - if Chelm were there, then it was right. And if Chelm were not there, then it was wrong. Just as it had been wrong every day and every night since that terrible moment where Chelm had just ... given him away. Just as it was wrong now, just as even the way Benelaus was holding him seemed like some cruel mockery of when Chelm had held him. What would Chelm say, now, if he saw Zebra behaving like this? Zebra didn't have to guess, Zebra knew, just as if Chelm were standing beside him, telling him.

Chelm had put him here. This is where Chelm wanted him to be. Zebra repeated that mantra to himself, reminding himself that whatever else was true, Chelm wanted him to be here. Chelm wanted him to be here. Slowly, the shaking slowed, stopped. Zebra felt himself relax into Benelaus's grip. "I'm here, Zebra," Benelaus said, and Zebra spent the night in the circle of Benelaus's arms. Zebra had expected Benelaus to use him, almost hoped for it, although that felt but that hadn't happened; Benelaus had only held him. It was strange; very strange. The feeling of a minotaur was so familiar, and that it wasn't Chelm was so different.

He'd managed to sleep, though, and if the dreams had returned, then he didn't remember them, and the next several nights were likewise peaceful. Even the chaos of Lord Fog's arrival in yet another minotaur city - confusingly, it seemed to be called Maze, just like the one they had left despite this city's being flat and five or six days travel distant and apparently populated by a different clan. Or perhaps it wasn't so much the name, as simply the heart of the clan. That sounded more minotaur, when he thought about it.

"Yes," Benelaus said. "Every clan's center is their maze." The brown minotaur was surprisingly forthcoming with answers, whenever Zebra could summon the resolution to ask them. Chelm hadn't liked questions. Even the Great Lord, as diffident as he was, had been noticeably taken aback even when Dacien asked him a question. He hadn't wanted to ask where the human Dacien had gone, nor why the minotaur Dacien had taken so many by surprise. Zebra wasn't sure he believed ... well, what he believed. It seemed impossible, utterly impossible, and yet ...

And yet.

He wasn't sure why the Great Lord chose to drag him around, him following Benelaus, Benelaus following in the Great Lord's wake as he met with yet more Great Lords. It seemed incredible to him that the Great Lord really cared about his tattoos, but ... well, maybe he did. It seemed impossible, utterly impossible, and yet ...

And yet.

Lord Fog had come to assist the other Great Lord, the Lord of Bones, and after a day in the city, they left again, for the private home of the Lord of Bones. Three more days of travel took them there, through the farms and villages, and finally to the front of a huge stone house. The Great Lord's servants, human and minotaur, greeted them with all the painful formality and more. Even Zebra had to be introduced, although only superficially, by Benelaus.

"My Lord of Bones," Lord Fog said, after the introductions and welcomes had been performed, "I am certain that you are laying a most pleasant dinner."

"Sean," - who had been introduced as the Lord of Bone's Master of House - "has made the preparations, yes, although I think there will be time for a quick bath."

"And on behalf of my retinue, I thank you," Lord Fog said. "But I am come on no small matter, but one that struggles at the leash. I would like to see the books at once."

"Books," murmured the Lord of Bones. "Yes. As to that ... I think I said there were several, and due to their fragility, I preferred you come to my library to see them."

"Something along those lines, yes," agreed Lord Fog. "Am I to understand that this was some kind of pretext to draw me here?"

"I have played, I confess, somewhat loosely with facts, but I would not go so far as to call it a pretext. My choice of phrase may have misled you as to the nature of what is here, that is all."

"Then since I am here, you may as well unfold the mystery."

"It is easier if I show you, Lord Fog. I assure you, my reasons for asking you here are exactly the ones I have given you and Patriarch Cresphontes. It is ... well, please, come this way."

"With delight," Lord Fog said dryly, evincing, to Zebra's mind, very little of that emotion, and the four of them set off. Lord Fog following the Lord of Bones, Benelaus following Lord Fog, and therefore, Zebra, following Benelaus. They turned down a narrow stone corridor, and down several flights of stairs, and the air gained the cool stillness and quiet of deep cellars. Eventually, the Great Lords came - and Zebra, perforce, followed - into a dusty archive.

"I've warded this room against ... well, against a great many things," the Lord of Bones said. "Whether it will hold your signature in check, I depend on you to tell me."

A bare moment passed before Teodor nodded. "It holds, and I will make certain it continues to do." Lord Fog looked around the large room, books neatly stacked in cabinets, heavy wood lock-boxes stacked to the ceiling, and roll upon roll upon roll of papers, all tied with multicolored ribbons. Oddly for the almost preternaturally neat minotaurs, everything coated with fine, fine dust.

"I appreciate that."

"But ..." said Teodor softly.

"Yes, Lord Fog?"

"All of these pertain to ninja?"

"Some." the gaunt silvered minotaur said. "Or Scylla, or Xarbydis. Or the war, or the, hmmmm, related history. Some of them are tangential. Notes, diaries, letters, anything I could find."

"It is an impressive collection," Lord Fog said.

"Thank you."

"You misunderstand, that was not a compliment, it was an observation," Lord Fog said.

"Then it is a correct observation," the other Great Lord said with something like a minotaur smile, so tight that Zebra wondered if it wasn't, perhaps, some other expression entirely.

"Your diligence in assembling such a," and Lord Fog was silent for a moment, considering his words, "vast quantity of ... primary sources, impresses me. I must wonder how long you've been assembling them."

"Must you?"

"Yes," Lord Fog said. "I must."

"I'd rather you didn't."

"I can see that, My Lord of Bones, and yet ... I must, I think, wonder."

The gaunt minotaur gestured to the room. "Some years, Lord Fog. Nearly half a century. I became ... curious, shall we say, and I wanted to lay my ridiculous and absurd concerns to rest."

"An eminently reasonable goal," Lord Fog said. "But I take it you were unable to lay them to rest?"

"I was ... unable to do so, yes."

"How fortunate, in the sense that it gifts us now, with this ... material," Lord Fog said. "And I continue to wonder."

"Too much wondering can be unhealthy, Lord Fog."

"I take it you pursued these matters in great silence. I had no inkling of this, and I doubt, deeply, that even our Patriarch did. Did yours?"

"I did not judge it prudent to lay such speculative matters before anyone."

"Prudent, indeed. And yet I wonder, what raised the ... speculation."

"This and that, over the years," the gaunt minotaur replied. "I cannot tell you what triggered it, a hundred little things, and nothing in particular. Call it a hunch, backed by nothing, no prescience, no evidence, nothing but a wild and impossible ... not even a guess. A shadow of a suspicion."

"And your investigations?"

"I found the shadow ... impossible to prove. Or disprove. Until recently, of course."

"Of course," echoed Lord Fog. "What is it, then, you want of me?"

"I want you to tell me how Xarbydis created them, Teodor. I want a program laid out, and I want to replicate it." The guant minotaur gave that almost but not quite smile again. "After all, you've succeeded before, with even scantier sources, as I understand it."

"Yes, but it took me a long time, years," murmured Lord Fog. "And there were experiments, to confirm that I was on the right track. And experiments, to see what wouldn't work. And there were gaps, and mysteries to bridge, and ... it took time, My Lord of Bones. A great deal of time."

"Our supply of that particular luxury is, I think, small and shrinking," the gaunt minotaur said. "Our foe, or foes, for I will not make the error of assuming we have only one, will understand what we are doing as we do it."

"Everyone will."

"Just so."

"And you're prepared for that."

"I trust I will be, yes." the minotaur said. "Can you do it?"

"I ... I can come up with something," Lord Fog said. "How accurate or useful it will be I cannot know. Especially if it be on such short notice, with such ... guesswork."

"I am not concerned. We will test your methods in service."

"That ... you'll kill them!"

"Quite likely, yes," the gaunt minotaur said. "But that will teach us how to keep the next ones alive, and it will gain us time."

"That's ..."

"My concern," said the Lord of Bones, in a tone that said further discussion was pointless.

"You will have difficulty finding volunteers," Lord Fog said.

"Another concern that is entirely mine."

"Not entirely," Lord Fog said. "We did agree ..."

"And since we agreed, there is no need for your concern."

The gray minotaur paused. "Well, I had no concern until now. I'm afraid my tendency to wonder has struck yet again, and I wonder if you have found some peculiarity in which one can obey perfectly and yet fail completely."

The gaunt minotaur just shook his head. "The sooner you begin, Lord Fog."

"Something we both can agree on, but ..."

"Yes?"

"I am still wondering, My Lord of Bones."

"About?"

"There must have been something that brought your ... suspicions to a focus."

The other was silent for a moment, and then he said, "If there were, and I hold to that if, then it would be something of which I cannot speak."

The gray minotaur was silent, and then finally nodded, jerkily, once. "So be it. May I start, then?"

"Before dinner?"

"I think you were the one warning me that our time is short," Lord Fog said.

"That is deserved, but it is also true."

"Then have my dinner - and theirs - delivered. And once General Osaze and your Master of Guard - General Dougal, is it not? - have determined the rounds and schedule of our safety, please send him to me."

"Dougal? Or Osaze?"

"General Osaze," Lord Fog said. "This is ..." he gestured. "I was not prepared for this much material, and I will have to consider how best to sift it. Have you any kind of manifest?"

The gaunt minotaur shook his head. "No."

"Well, I shall make you one, then," Lord Fog said. "The other copies of ..."

"There," and the Lord of Bones pointed to one of the locked glass cabinets. "On the third shelf."

Lord Fog simply nodded, walked over to the cabinet, and began pulling the books out, carefully setting them on a desk. "Thank you, My Lord of Bones."

As the gaunt Lord of Bones had left, Lord Fog practically leaped into action. "The books are useless," he said, "but in all this clutter there may well be something of value, overlooked ..." a slight bovine smile flashed across the otherwise-controlled gray face. "And I do admit the sheer novelty of examining such a rich collection of sources is in itself intoxicating. Still, it would be best to tackle this in an orderly way. Zebra, can you read?"

Him? Zebra quailed at the thought. "Only Latin, Great - Sir, Sir. And not for years."

"Huh," mused the gray minotaur. "I am disappointed - not in you, Zebra, nor with you, but really ..." Lord Fog sighed, and turned to the General.

"No," the General said, before the mage had even started to speak. "We are here to guard you, My Lord."

"Wouldn't it be safer if I were done sooner?"

"My Lord, it is our job to guard you wherever you are, not merely here."

The gray minotaur sighed again. "Benelaus ... you're not on active guard duty ... do you think you could look after Zebra and help me sort through this?"

"Yes, My Lord, of course."

"I'm glad somebody can get some real work done."

"My Lord, begging your pardon, but guard work requires one's full attention; I am not guarding Zebra, I am overseeing him. I could not both guard and assist you; any more that the General could."

"Noted," said Teodor dryly. "Thank you for that, hmmm, vote of confidence in your commanding officer." He let out a deep breath, and slowly turned around, looking pensively over the mass of letters, books, journals, and folders the Lord of Bones had accumulated. "This will take ... some time." The minotaur's head nodded. "Best get started, I suppose. I'm going to start looking through letters. I'd like you to go through the books. Anything from ... oh, a thousand years or older is interesting. Anything relating to Xarbydis, Scylla, or tempus is interesting. Anything else is a lower priority. I'll have to go through everything eventually. Oh. Anything about magic or ritual is interesting, too." Lord Fog's muzzle relaxed as he considered. "And ... use your discretion. If you think something is interesting, make a note of why and put it in a third group."

"Yes, My Lord."

"And ... if for some reason you think something requires my immediate attention, please let me know at once," Lord Fog said. "I value and prize initiative, and even if your initiative leads you to the wrong choice or decision, why, you've learned more about what I do consider important." Lord Fog gave the brief twist of a minotaur grin.

"Yes, My Lord."

The next several days went slowly, Zebra thought. Mornings they trained - and even the Great Lord himself trained, working with General Osaze with a practice sword. Zebra felt vaguely guilty about noticing that Lord Fog wasn't very good - probably not even as good as ... no. That wasn't something to think about. Zebra concentrated on his wrestling bouts with Benelaus. The small brown minotaur was far stronger than he was, but Zebra was still the better wrestler, and in a strange reversal, Benelaus decided that the best way for Zebra to stay in form was for him, Zebra, to teach Benelaus. After a week or so, Lord Fog decided that the spell on Zebra was stable enough that he'd only need to renew it once or twice a day, and rather than have Zebra sit in the library with them, Benelaus would send Zebra outside to run laps around the mansion. Zebra didn't mind; it was a good form of exercise, and it got him outside in the sun and grass, and it felt pretty good to be on his own for a short time. It reminded him ... no. It felt pretty good to be on his own for a short time.

It took him nearly twenty minutes to do a full circle around the estate, because of the orchard, and it was on one of those rounds where he saw something he didn't understand. Five rows of ten humans, ex-soldiers if Zebra was any judge, under the direct leadership of a number of larger black and white minotaur warriors - no, warlords, Zebra thought, and he jagged a little further out, to avoid them. Benelaus had told him to stay away from any of the workers on the estate or any of the bulls working for the Lord of Bones.

"Who are you?" The black minotaur - not a bull Zebra recognized - appeared in front of him.

"Zebra, Sir."

"What are you doing here?"

"Running, Sir."

The minotaur looked irritated for a moment. "What are you doing on the Lord's estate? You're not one of his slaves."

"No, Sir. I came with Great Lord Fog, Sir."

"He brought humans?"

"Just me, Sir," Zebra said.

"And you were running ... why?"

"I was running around the estate, Sir. My overseer said I needed more exercise."

"Your overseer? Lord Fog brought an overseer for a single human?"

"I don't believe I can say, Sir."

"So where is he?" the black minotaur asked, impatience finally leaking into his voice.

"Sir?"

"Where is your overseer?"

"To the best of my knowledge, Sir, in the Great Lord's library."

The black minotaur nodded. "Finish your run around the estate, and return there. Inform your overseer that Warlord Crandall wishes to speak with him at his first convenience."

"Yes, Sir," Zebra said, and set off to do exactly that. A few minutes saw him back at the kitchen door. He jogged through the mansion, up to the library, past both sets of guards, and back to the dim and musty library. His own Great Lord was standing at a desk, gingerly examining some old pages, and Benelaus was paging through a book. Both of them looked up as he came in, and then turned back to their task.

"Got tired?"

"No, Sir," Zebra said, which, as he knew it would, caught Benelaus' attention. He'd been told to go run until he was tired of it. "I was told to return here."

"By whom?"

"I don't know, Sir, but I was instructed to tell you that Warlord Crandall wished to speak with you at your first convenience."

"Crandall? What's he doing here?" asked Benelaus, and Zebra related the entire story to him, quietly. "How strange," Benelaus said as he finished.

"What?" asked Lord Fog, looking up. "I'm sorry, I missed that. What's the issue?"

"Crandall is here," said Benelaus.

"I think I've heard his name, but I do not recall the specifics. Is this an issue?"

"He's tempus instructor for the Lord of Bones."

"Ah," said the gray minotaur with a hint of distaste. "Yes. That's why I brought Dapple," and turned back to the yellowed paper.

"So why is he instructing humans?"

Lord Fog looked up. "What?"

"Zebra was doing laps around the house, and encountered minotaurs doing what looks like military drills."

"And that is odd?"

"With humans, My Lord."

"With ..." and the gray minotaur stopped. The paper dropped from his hands. "Humans. Zebra, I beg your forgiveness, but I was not paying attention to your discussion with Benelaus. Could you tell me, exactly what you saw, and what happened?"

"I ... I think so, Great ... Sir," Zebra said, and carefully went through the sequence of events again. Lord Fog listened carefully.

"How many minotaurs did you see?"

"I ..." Zebra considered. "Maybe seven?"

"And ... I know this is an odd question, but were they all ... black or white? No other pelt coloration?"

"There was a blue minotaur, My Lord."

"I see," said Lord Fog. "Oh, yes, I see. I have been willfully blind, but I can certainly see when my eyelids are ripped off."

"My Lord?"

"Is there something we should know about, My Lord?" asked one of the guards standing vigil.

"I ..." and the gray minotaur paused. "I don't know. I do need to talk to Oz - General Osaze, but the matter is far from urgent. I doubt it changes any security requirements, but of course Oz will be the better judge of that."

"Yes, My Lord," the guard said.

"Is this something I should know about?" asked Benelaus.

Lord Fog sat down, looked almost helplessly at the stack of paper in front of him, and shook his head. "I don't know, Benelaus. But ..." he turned, and looked directly - and rather disconcertingly - at Zebra. "I am infinitely pleased that you have brought me this information. It is not ... good information, I am distressed ..." the minotaur paused. "Yes, I think I myself need a break. Perhaps an afternoon training session for all. As I said, I am distressed, but that is not your fault, Zebra. This is ... important, very important. You have done well." Lord Fog tried to smile, but Zebra could see his heart wasn't in it.

"Sir? I ... I didn't do anything I wasn't told to ..."

"Then you are to be commended for doing as you were told," Lord Fog said, quietly. "I ... oh, how could I be so blind?" The mage put his head on his hands, and after a moment, Zebra saw he was shaking.

No, not shaking. Crying.

"Sir?" asked Zebra, as he walked over to the minotaur, and then he silently put his hand on the gray minotaur's left hand. Benelaus was watching closely, but made no motion to interfere. "Sir?" but Teodor said nothing. "Great Lord?"

"Hardly that," whispered the minotaur. "But ... thank you, Zebra. I'm ... I will be fine."

The next day, Benelaus took Zebra on a new route for his run, one that conspicuously avoided the orchard, and the Great Lord, as Zebra thought of him that way even if he was getting better at just addressing him as Sir, was even quieter than he had been before, saying nothing as he stared at paper after paper. Even the few questions Benelaus asked him received minimal answers. Polite, always painfully polite, but as short as possible.

Since Zebra had long ago given up counting days, he wasn't sure how many days later it was when one of Lord Fog's guards intercepted him on his daily run, to let him know his presence was desired, now. Zebra dutifully turned around, and the guard - Zester - followed him back into the house. New guards, the smaller brown minotaurs, were stationed at the doors. And when Zester requested entrance, they had to unlock the doors to let the two of them in. Zebra heard the lock click shut behind them.

More guards - again, brown minotaurs - were wandering - patrolling? - the house, and they pointedly ignored Zester and Zebra. Zester returned the indifference, although he paused outside the library before opening the door, waiting for a moment of silence before announcing "I have retrieved your human, My Lord."

"Excellent, thank you, Zester," Lord Fog said courteously, from a chair where he was reading a book. "General Osaze, can you now tell me what has happened?"

"Happened, My Lord?"

"Yes, happened. Why has the Lord of Bones increased our guard from ten bulls to twenty-four?"

"Perhaps you should ask the Lord of Bones, My Lord?"

"I'm sure you already have," Lord Fog said.

"I have not, My Lord."

The gray minotaur just looked at the golden minotaur for a long period of silence. "Then you must already know."

"I cannot discuss it."

"Still?"

"I cannot discuss it."

"Osaze, if there's a problem, I need to know."

"I beg your forgiveness, Lord Fog, but I cannot discuss it."

"It pains me, but I order you, on my authority as Lord Fog and Ambassador to inform me of whatever is happening," Lord Fog said softly.

"I cannot discuss it."

That drew a look of surprise from the gray minotaur, and then one of thought.

"Cresphontes has ordered your silence in this matter?"

"I cannot discuss it," General Osaze repeated.

"But this level of security is ... ridiculous!"

"My Lord, I have my responsibilities. I would beg you to not to draw me into conversation on this. I cannot, cannot, cannot discuss it."

"You were explicitly ordered not to discuss it with me?"

"My Lord."

"That is not an answer."

"I cannot discuss it. All I can do is acknowledge the words of My Lord, My Lord."

"But this is absurd!"

"My Lord, I ..."

"Cannot discuss it, yes, I did hear you. The first time, and with each repetition, I assure you." The mage sighed. "You may not post guards in my bedroom, however."

"It is a security requirement."

"I can't sleep with all that racket," Lord Fog said. "And I do need sleep."

"They will be very quiet."

The mage shook his head. "No, not physical sound. I've explained this before; they'll be thinking. You can hardly order them to stop thinking, and even if you did, they couldn't stop. And the sound of their thinking will keep me awake."

"That's ..."

"The truth, Oz, as I've told you, again and again and again," the mage said tiredly. "I can't sleep like that."

"You slept with me."

"One person, yes, I can sleep with one person, who is also sleeping. Two or more who are awake, though, I cannot. Let us find some other solution. I can seal the room magically to prevent anyone from entering."

"And if there is some external emergency that requires your attention, or abandonment of the building? A fire, for example?"

"I'll tune the seal to the guards outside. They, and only they, will be able to pass."

"I'd rather someone was inside with you. Maybe just one guard?"

"No," said Lord Fog.

"May I sleep with you?"

The gray minotaur just shook his head. "Oz, you'd be guarding me, not ... and ... no, I don't think that would be a good idea at all."

"I don't like your being alone."

"Well, actually, I'm not that fond of it either," the minotaur said dryly. "I've gotten used to it."

"How about Zebra?"

"What?"

"He has no guard responsibility, so he could sleep with you."

"He's beautiful, and I do like him," Lord Fog said, "but I hardly see how having him there would enhance my safety." The gray minotaur smiled briefly at him, and then turned back to Osaze. "Or his. Putative assassins would have no qualms about hurting him if he was with me. Out of the question."

"Do you doubt that you can seal the room?"

"No, of course not."

"Then, sealed, he'd be safer than anywhere else, would he not?"

"Why is it so important that there be someone else in the room?"

"Let's say you seal the room. And let's say an assassin kills the only two guards who can get in. And then they set the house on fire."

"A mage, threatened by a fire? I think not."

"Asleep? Perhaps a drugged sleep?"

"Drugged? If I could be drugged, then why not poisoned?"

"As a water-affined mage you would sense if you were poisoned. You might not sense something subtle. Say ... just stronger brandy than you're used to. Alcohol, My Lord, is a drug. I would sleep better, My Lord, if someone else was with you."

The gray minotaur started to say something, and then shrugged. "I would say no, I would say that you are conjuring impossible fantasies of harm, but ... I am reminded of what Xavien told me after the attack on us at House Green, that he had been warned, and he chose to ignore. Sleeping with Zebra will be no hardship, so ... I will do as you ask." The gray minotaur paused. "Although ... whatever it is you are not telling me, you must tell me if this places Zebra in any greater danger, or I cannot do it."

"I do not believe, to the best of my knowledge, that Zebra would be in greater danger with you than elsewhere," General Osaze said quietly.

"Very well, then."

"I'm not afraid," Zebra said. "I'd protect you, Sir."

"No," said Lord Fog quickly, as Benelaus started to move. "Please, Benelaus, sit.

"Zebra, that is a courageous and generous offer, and I am honored by it, deeply," Lord Fog continued. "Still, we minotaurs demand much - very much - from our humans. One of the things we deliver for your loyalty and obedience is our protection of you. Every minotaur in this room - every minotaur in this house - would die to shield you. Only the Lord of Bones and I would merit consideration before your safety, and only because, as mages, we are considered critical to our clans. The day we ask humans to protect us - that is the day we have betrayed every human who has ever entered our service."

Zebra said nothing.

"And some might - would - say your offer is an accusation of that betrayal." Lord Fog said. "But they would be wrong. I am, as I said, honored by your offer. I wish I could repay it as it deserves, but I cannot, and retain my honor. You are my ward, and your safety is paramount. Those are my wishes, that is my command, and I will have your word that you will not seek to protect me or to put yourself in danger. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir." Zebra had a sudden flashback to Chelm's command to seek out another minotaur for protection if something happened to him while he faced down an intruder.

"I know Chelm has, hmm, suppressed your human love of questions, but do you have any?"

"What ... I didn't, I don't understand what you mean by wishing to repay my offer as it deserves," Zebra said. "That didn't make sense. I'm sorry, Sir."

"I perceive nothing for which you should be apologetic," Lord Fog said. "The most fitting response would be to accept your offer, of course. How better could I honor the courage of your offer and initiative in making it than by accepting it? I cannot, and for that, it is I who am sorry." A brief twist of the gray muzzle showed a smile. "But I will sleep better nevertheless knowing the bravery of the heart next to mine." The gray minotaur looked around the room. "I trust I have made my opinions known."

"Yes, Sir," and Zebra's words echoed along with the soft, "Yes, M'Lord" from the other minotaurs.

By the time Zebra was beside the sleeping gray minotaur, he'd decided that Lord Fog - Teodor, if they were in bed together - had not been mocking him, after all. It didn't hurt that something about Teodor reminded him of Chelm; and that thought sent him to sleep.

Other than the additional presence of guards - at breakfast, in the halls, even in the library, the only real change was that Zebra was no longer allowed out of the house to run. Instead, he worked on drills with Benelaus - good, but nowhere near the almost-freedom of being out running by himself. Still, Zebra noticed that the Great Lord had even less freedom than he did. Maybe that was why he'd been so upset when he'd first seen Zebra, locked onto the hobble. Or maybe not. The gray minotaur seemed as moody as Chelm, and talked even less, although he was nowhere near as rigid.

And at bedtime, Teodor even talked to him, asked him what he'd done, as if the answer would be something other than sit in the library and watch you and Master go through old papers. After the fifth or sixth repetition of that, Teodor had just sighed and promised that this would be over, eventually, and Teodor was looking very forward to that.

It was the night after that Teodor bolted out of bed, and began talking to the air - and the air began talking back.

Teodor? I hope I am not disturbing you too much.

"Xavien, no, not at all. It's a pleasure to hear you, but I'd been expecting Ruus. I have some news, and it isn't good."

I have ill news as well, and I suspect mine is worse.

"That ... that would be bad."

It is bad. There is no good way to say it. Nine days ago, these ninja attacked us. Fifteen of the Patriarch's guard were slain, another seven wounded, and ... Cresphontes assassinated. Eight ninja - all of them, we think - were killed. Apparently they are expendable assets.

"That's ... Folly of the Creators. I'm so sorry. I know you and your cousin were close; that is ... horrible."

Thank you. I assumed the position of Acting Regent, and I was confirmed as Regent by quorum two days later.

"You? How didyou get stuck with that? And, more importantly ... how may I serve you, Regent?"

By getting here for the confirmation of the next patriarch.

"I wasn't consulted."

No. The new patriarch has already garnered the needed quorum of generals and mages. We needed to do this quickly, and it was only yourself, Lord Doze, and Lord Winter that were unavailable. I, Lord Chimes, Lord Run, and Lord Lash all agreed on the proposed candidate - the needed quorum.

"I see. Who has been chosen?"

Restricted. Security concerns. But we do want you, Lord Doze, and Lord Winter here as soon as possible. You should be here for the confirmation.

"If you command it, but you do recall why I am here?"

This is more important. We need to show solidarity.

"As you command."

I thought you'd argue.

"With Lord Green, I might, if I thought he was wrong. With the Regent - never. I take it the Lord of Bones was told earlier?"

Lord Chimes told him and General Osaze. I was half-expecting you to have winkled it out of them.

"The Lord of Bones has been ... notable in his absence, and the only thing Osaze said was,I cannot discuss it . Repeatedly. Obviously something had happened, but I'd assumed Cresphontes had commanded his silence."

No. I did. There was nothing you could do, and what you were doing was critical. You said you had ill news.

"The Lord of Bones intends to turn humans into ninja."

Deplorable. I take no pleasure in being right.

"Right? Right about what?"

About the inadvisability of your experiments in transforming humans to minotaurs.

"Then we disagree. The Lord of Bones' error is in creating ninjain the first place . His candidate selection would be deplorable regardless of whom he chose."

Your process facilitates it, and makes a difficult and painful decision ... less so.

"True. I beg your forgiveness, Xavien, about that you are exactly correct. But he could, with almost equal ease, have bred minotaurs for the purpose using the humans. Would that have been more, or less terrible?"

Do you invite me to rate these crimes?

"I ... no. I am, I suppose, defending what is my contribution. My misused contribution, but ... mine. I have enabled this thing, and that fills me with shame. But I think it would have happened, regardless. I merely provided an easier way."

I agree with that. How soon can you arrive here?

"I ... yes, of course. A day to prepare, a day to Ourobouros, and then two days to Lycaili. Four days."

Confirmation is in five days. Your attendance is the highest priority.

"Is that the word of the Regent?"

Teodor, I am crushed beneath this burden, and the loss of Cresphontes. I have had no time to mourn, and I cannot let myself dwell on it. I look forward to resuming my place as Lord Green nearly as I looked forward to the birth of Xavier.

"Of course. I am coming, my friend. We can mourn together."

Thank you, Teodor.