I, Dacien

A Story by Onyx Tao

© 2010

Released under the Creative Commons

Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike License

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

Chapter Three:Consolation

Teodor - or_Great Lord Fog_, as the black-and-white minotaur said he should be called, summoned them, or at least the minotaur guard said so; Nestor heard nothing. On the other hand, he'd been eating slices of apple smeared with spicy peanut butter. Dapple, or so Lord Fog had called him, hadn't said anything more other than offering watered apple cider for him to drink. At least it was a change from the ubiquitous oatmeal and stewed fruit. The peanut butter was a little too spicy; it burned his mouth, but the apple crunched nicely, and the weak apple cider washed it down well.

He was just sipping the cider at a small table when Dapple turned and said, "Come," and so he was perfectly willing to put the flagon down and follow. Dapple hadn't answered any questions, maybe ... maybe he could get something out of this Lord Fog. They climbed back up the stairs to the main quarters, to find Lord Fog impatiently waiting in the house foyer.

"Good, good, thank you, Dapple. Please keep an eye on the human, and follow me. We should be expected. I hope."

"Yes, Master," Dapple said, oddly submissively for a minotaur, Nestor thought. They left the house, and what had seemed a trick of the light and the minotaur's own clothing turned out to be real: Lord Fog was the soft washed-out gray of a thick fog; his pelt the exact color of his clothing. Even the leather had been dyed, or treated, somehow, to match. It seemed like an odd affectation, but then Nestor had seen stranger ones. "Where are we going, then?" he asked.

The gray minotaur stopped abruptly, and turned to look at him, and then at Dapple, and then back to him.

"To a great disaster, I think," the minotaur said. "I cannot have this; it will not do. Are you ignorant of how humans are expected to behave?"

"Maybe; how are humans supposed to behave?"

"They address their owners as_master_, and other minotaur as sir, although you may address this one - and only this one - as Dapple," the gray minotaur said.

"Why may I call him by name?"

"That is a discussion we must have," Lord Fog said, "at length, and later. For now, I need you to behave politely, and properly, or - and I will be honest here - you will set my political agenda back significantly. We have spoken before, yes?"

Nestor nodded.

"I mentioned that there were ... traditionalists whom were violently opposed to considering humans as anything other than clever livestock?"

"Not in so many words, no, but ... yes."

The gray minotaur grimaced. "Well, we're going to go see one of them, and you will have considerable opportunity to embarrass me, and_that_ would be a ... sort of political defeat. You do understand political defeats?"

"Yes," Nestor said.

"Being attacked at that parley was one of those_political defeats_," Lord Fog said. "I trust that you had nothing to do with it."

"No!" Nestor said, stung. "I swear that I didn't know that was going to happen ... nobody knew."

The minotaur shrugged. "It hardly matters. I pressed for it, I argued for it, I called in favors ... I had really thought it might do some good, but ... it was a setback, I don't deny. It made me look foolish and naïve."

"I'm sorry," said Nestor. He really hadn't thought about that disastrous parley from the_minotaur's_ perspective, and it seemed that it was just as bad for Lord Fog as it had been for him. Only, he couldn't really blame Lord Fog, and ... Lord Fog could, with a great deal of justification, blame him. "If I had any idea that might happen, I would have ... stopped it."

"I am relieved to hear that," said the minotaur, glancing around the street. There were a few other humans and minotaur moving along it, but not many. "We can discuss it_later_, and by later, I mean tonight. I have already had a bitter lesson about putting off these little important discussions for matters that only seem urgent," Lord Fog said wryly. "I propose to avoid the mistake a second time. However, time presses. I want you to see something - something no human has ever seen, or at least, lived to tell, and I want you to be able to tell about it. But if you cannot comport yourself as is proper to a human slave, then it won't work."

"What won't work?"

"I want you to bear witness, hopefully to your Empire," Lord Fog said, very quietly. "Do not repeat that,ever."

Nestor nodded.

"Which of course involves_returning_ you to your Empire," the minotaur went on. "As a high-status human, you might be taken seriously."

"I would be," Nestor said. "Yes. If you could ..."

Lord Fog shook his head. "Right now there is no consensus for doing such a thing." He looked up at the darkening sky, high above the canyons of the city. "No human, as far as I know, has ever been_released_. Few humans have even desired it."

Ha, thought Nestor.

"Right now, I do not know that, when conditions are right, if I can convince ... the right persons ... to send you back."

"You could just let me go," Nestor said.

"No," said the minotaur. "I cannot_just_ let you go. It would be an act of diplomacy that I am not entitled to perform, and doing so would be a betrayal of my oaths, office, and duty. It is a decision I can propose and support, but I cannot take it upon myself to do it, anymore than you could have unilaterally surrendered your army to me.

"Come," the minotaur said, starting to walk again. "We have, I hope, a destination."

"Can you tell me what you want me to see?"

"Not really," the minotaur said. "You should see it for yourself, judge it for yourself. An excursion leaves tomorrow, and, if you are to see what I wish you to see, you must be with them. And I will not be there, even though, with your inclusion, your bad behavior or poor comportment would reflect on me." Lord Fog turned off the main street, ducked into a tunnel hewn from the canyon wall. "So can you play the part of a properly subdued, obedient human?"

"Yes," said Nestor, confidently.

"Will you?"

Nestor paused. "For tonight, or for this ... excursion?"

"For tonight, for now," the minotaur sighed. "We can discuss ... this excursion. Later."

"Pardon me, Master?"

"Yes, Dapple?"

"Might ... might not you just send Nestor home?"

"That is indeed an excellent suggestion, Dapple, thank you," the gray minotaur said, and the white-and-black minotaur actually smiled, a tiny bit, at Lord Fog's praise. "However ... that would defeat the purpose."

"There's something you want me to see tonight, then," Nestor said.

"No," said Lord Fog. "Apparently you have some problem with your heart."

"The ... that's what the Lord of Bones said."

"He should know," Lord Fog said. "He suggests that it is a problem that Lord Green should look at, and if I am to send you off tomorrow ... it should be be dealt with tonight."

"He said it would require ... stopping my heart to fix," Nestor said, apprehensively.

"I believe so," the gray minotaur said absently. "It's a complicated process, and not within my expertise. In any case, I need you in acceptable health before I send you anywhere."

"I don't want anyone ... stopping my heart."

"How do you propose to fix it, then?" asked Lord Fog.

Nestor paused. "Does it need fixing? I mean, I'm taking this drink ..."

"That's for something else," the minotaur said. "Important, but it has nothing to do with your heart."

"But Darrus said ..." and then Nestor paused. What_had_ Darrus said?

"Refer to him as_my previous Master of Slave_, not by his name," Lord Fog said. "Try not to refer to any minotaur by name."

"Why not?"

"Because you'll get it wrong," Lord Fog said patiently, "and humans aren't encouraged to call minotaurs by name in any case. Although, I will say that it's a good way to get our attention in an, hmmm, possibly urgent situation."

"Wrong?"

"Yes, wrong," said Lord Fog, a note of irritation entering his voice.

"How can it be wrong?"

The gray minotaur took a breath, let it out, and took another one. "Because_when_ to refer to a minotaur by name, by title, and by which title is complicated. More complicated than I care to explain - or have time to explain. Better to avoid the entire morass."

"You told me to call him Dapple," Nestor pointed out.

"That is not strictly speaking a_name_," Teodor said. "In any case, Dapple's situation is ... unusual, and you are sufficiently unlikely to encounter another such that you may consider a one-time exception."

"What makes it unusual?"

"Dapple - like you - is property," Teodor said. "One designates property, one does not name it. Nor is property capable of being offended."

"I don't think I like the sound of that."

"Then you should have arranged to keep your army out of Lycaili," the gray minotaur said coldly. "The location of the border between your Empire and Lycaili is Mog Ford, and your ... military strategy clearly shows that you, in the sense of your Empire, is and were aware of that. I also would note that you - unlike the unfortunates you brought with you - presumably had the option_not to come_. I have some sympathy for them in that regard. Limited sympathy, I grant, but some. I have significantly less for you, as you not only chose to proceed onto our land, but you may even, though unfortunate political necessities, get to evade the consequences. It seems to me most unfair that the commander may escape the punishment of his followers, but ..." the minotaur sighed. "Needs dictate."

"That's ... an interesting outlook," Nestor said.

"Oh?" The gray minotaur's voice, already chill, got colder. "Is there some_other_ way to look at it? Thousands of humans have been sold off to Ouroborous, who cannot possibly absorb so many. The overflow will end up in other clans ... Ancalagon. Venrir. Ungoliant. I wouldn't sell a donkey, regardless of the provocation, to Ungoliant, and ... they will probably end up with thousands of your men. You, on the other hand ... remain under Lycaili protection."

"What's so bad about Ungoliant?"

Lord Fog was quiet for a moment. "They consider humans expendable," he said, with the tone of someone choosing his words with great care.

"And you don't?"

"I do not," said the minotaur. "Lycaili does not. This way." Lord Fog went up a set of stairs that Nestor had missed, and Dapple followed behind. "It is not entirely accident, human, that Lycaili holds Mog Ford, rather than, someone like, oh,Ungoliant. That is the reason your provocations have not been answered ... more forcefully in the past; the border belongs to us."

"Provocations? What about your raiding?"

The gray minotaur stopped. "What?"

"The raids, the minotaur raids, what about them?"

"Lycaili does not - and I assure you I would know if it were otherwise - raid into what you might consider human-held lands," Lord Fog said. "Nor ... would our neighbors do so. It would be difficult, very, for any minotaur clan to launch any enterprise through Mog Ford without our knowing. We keep a very close watch on that border."

"That is a lie," Nestor said, with a sort of calm anger. "Minotaurs ..." and he froze, unable to move, his muscles uncooperative.

The gray minotaur had stopped, and was looking at him. "Feral, I have, I think, been more than reasonable in dealing with you - much more than reasonable. Accommodating to a degree beyond what any other person might. I will make allowance for your unfamiliarity with civilized behavior. I will even entertain the notion that my understanding of objective reality is mistaken. But I will not be insulted." Lord Fog stared at Nestor with displeasure. "Do not ever again accuse me of_lying_. Do not accuse any minotaur of lying." The gray minotaur paused, and continued with a more amused tone. "Unless, of course, you're trying to sabotage the conversation." The minotaur stood for another minute, while Nestor tried to break out of ... whatever ... hold ... the minotaur had caused, unsuccessfully. "And are willing to pay your life to do so," the minotaur finished, the chill back in his voice. "We consider personal honor the fundamental bedrock of society and civilization.

"Now, I am going to release you, and consider the matter of your ... mistaken impression as to my honesty ... closed." And just like that, Nestor could move again.

"I would like to apologize," Nestor said, after a quick twitch assured him that he could move again.

"The formal phrase is_I beg your forgiveness_," the gray minotaur said quietly.

"I beg your forgiveness," Nestor said. "For my expressing myself carelessly."

"And I am glad to hear it, and I am certain I will manage to forgive you at some point," the minotaur said, "so we may as well pretend that that point has already happened."

Nestor blinked, and nodded, and thought furiously. "Yes. What I wanted to say is that we ...believe ... we have been raided, by minotaurs, coming from Mog Ford."

"What a remarkable thing to believe," the gray minotaur said after a moment of thought, and continuing onward. "I admit to .... curiosity as to why ... you would believe that."

"We have two report of minotaurs descending on villages, and ... taking everyone they could find, which ... is usually everyone. We have significantly_more_ reports of empty villages, I might add, and ... I have seen several of those myself."

"An interesting set of facts," Lord Fog said, finally. "Very interesting. And peculiar, certainly. I cannot imagine any minotaur clan having any reason to acquire feral humans."

"Because we're uncivilized and uncouth," Nestor said, and then wished he hadn't.

But the sarcasm seemed to pass the gray minotaur by, as all he said was, "Yes, just so, unsocialized," almost absently. "Very peculiar. I wonder if Dacien knows anything about it."

"Who?"

"Indeed," the minotaur said and turned into a small gate - or at least, small for a minotaur gate, which was spacious for a human, and into a surprisingly ornate garden. Lord Fog glanced around at it, and chuckled. The path led between two large posts supporting a verdigrised trellis holding small pots of plants - maybe a hundred, each tiny pot almost bursting with leaves and stems and in one or two cases, tiny flowers. A number of scents, earthy and herbal, floated in the air and then were up at the house beyond.

Lord Fog knocked, and a human dressed in dark green opened the door almost instantly. He looked at the gray minotaur for a moment, and his eyes slid over Nestor as if the human weren't there or didn't matter all that much to Dapple, standing directly behind the human.

"Great Lord," the human said. "Please ... please be welcome. I will ... I will fetch my Master immediately; so that he may invite ..."

"No need," a deep voice said clearly, and a midnight-black minotaur stepped out of the darkness behind the human. "That will be all, Cook."

The human vanished.

"Be welcome," the minotaur continued, now addressing Lord Fog, "at my home and door." The minotaur's eye glinted a bit. "My back door."

"Thank you, Lord Green. It's a hike to go around, and I hoped you wouldn't mind," Lord Fog said.

"Indeed not. Do come in, you and Dapple, who is always welcome in my home." The minotaur finally glanced down at Nestor. "And ... a feral human, of course, I should have known." Lord Green sighed. "And it is the human who is the reason for this visit?"

"Yes. I need him repaired," Lord Fog said, as they walked through a hallway deeper into the house. Nestor glimpsed a kitchen to one side, and another half-open door appeared to be storage for the fine minotaur pottery.

"I do keep a schedule for that," the minotaur said. "Although Trand will probably have given the job to someone else by now."

"If he hasn't, he will," Lord Fog agreed. "Not that was ever a good use of his time."

"It was; he could sort through a great deal of things that didn't need my attention, or that he could deal with himself, and in a number of cases, things that needed my attention urgently. As I gather this does not."

The minotaurs turned by some common, unspoken agreement, and began climbing a staircase. Nestor and Dapple followed.

"Not as such, no," the gray minotaur agreed. "But Nikos thought it would be interesting challenge for you."

"Did he."

"The very words. Here," and Lord Fog produced the letter from his shirt, and the black minotaur accepted it gravely. "See for yourself."

At the top of the stairs they turned again, and a set of double doors led into a huge room, if one could call it that. Two of the walls were just normal walls, albeit covered in heavy polished wood panels. The other two, though, were glass windows, as big as the room itself. The dusk lent a reflective quality to the glass, and faint images of three minotaurs and a human moved in a backwards realm.

Two of those mirror-minotaur sat down; the gray and the black, and the third, the white one with black, silently gave them intricately cut glass cups, and filled the tiny cups with something red that reeked of alcohol and oranges. The black minotaur sipped his, and read the letter.

Lord Fog simply watched; letting his own drink sit untasted. The black minotaur came to the end of the letter quickly, and looked up at Lord Fog, and then over at the human.

A moment later he shook his head. "Very questionable. The patch is half-eroded, the ribs are ... not done properly, and ... they don't mention the liver_or_ the joints. The heart is interesting, though, I do admit. Very subtle. I might have missed it if I weren't looking specifically for it."

"Really."

"No," the minotaur said after a moment. "Not really. But I suppose I should give Nikohorus the benefit of the doubt, after all. But ... none of those things, even the liver, qualifies as_urgent_, other than the heart, and the patch is good for ... another fourteen days, at a minimum."

"Still."

"Why is this feral worth your attention." The words might have been a question, but they were not delivered as a question.

The gray minotaur reached down, took the glass, and emptied it. "Good stuff,"

"It is," Lord Green replied.

"I suppose I should ask if you really want to know. It's not ..."

"What are you doing, Teodor?" asked the black minotaur. "Wasn't this morning enough?"

The gray minotaur sighed, set the glass down, and didn't seem to notice as Dapple carefully filled it back up. "I'm going to send him with Dacien tomorrow."

Lord Green just looked baffled. "Why?"

"Because this_particular_ feral was the senior military officer."

"The one who broke your parley," and Nestor could hear the disgust in the minotaur's voice.That's not ... what happened, Nestor wanted to say, but he held his tongue.

"The one who was_at_ the parley, yes," said Teodor. "Please, let's not spar. I don't ... I'm sorry. I don't have the heart for it right now."

"I would have thought you'd be delighted, everything going your way."

"Is it? You sense disaster, I thought."

"Yes," said the black minotaur.

"So do I. I think you're right. I just think you're mistaken as to where the disaster is going to come from."

"Humans," and the word was a curse.

"Possibly," said Lord Fog. " No, probably. But there's no doubt we can help it along."

"No doubt," echoed Lord Green.

"I'm thinking if they find out just what_disaster_ really means ..."

Lord Green sipped some of the red liqueur. "They'll know what scares us, you mean?"

"Don't you think it will scare them?"

The black minotaur considered this over the remainder of his glass. "No," he said thoughtfully, and then looked over at Nestor. "I do not think that."

"Well, perhaps you are too pessimistic," Lord Fog said. "And perhaps you are right. But it is still worth trying, I think."

"Really? Let them_know_ what can happen?"

"And if it goes wrong, what have we lost?"

Lord Green put his glass down, possibly in the expectation that Dapple would immediately refill it, and picked it up again. He took a sip. "Mystery; they learn about us, and we become ... less fearsome. Nothing is so terrifying as the unknown."

"Nothing?" asked Lord Fog dryly.

"The true terror of_that_ is that after you've seen it," Lord Green said, "it remains unknown."

The two minotaurs both stared into their glasses.

"Then it is a bad idea," Lord Fog suggested.

"Yes," said the black minotaur warily.

"Still ..."

"Yes?"

"Might it not be interesting to see what ... he would make of it? If, in fact, he's_not_ ... that would be ... worth knowing."

"Mmmmm," said the black minotaur. "Maybe."

"Good," said Lord Fog. "One step. And then we can see where we are, and where to take the next."

"If," said the black minotaur. "If we should take another step."

"Oh, we have to take_a_ step," said the gray minotaur. "Eventually. I'd just rather take a step when I know what the footing will be like, rather than ... running out over unknown ground."

"Mmmmm," the black minotaur said. "I suppose we can agree with that. But I'd point out you_don't_ know what the footing will be."

"No, I don't," Lord Fog agreed. "Which is why I like to do it in advance, one step at a time, with my brothers - like you - close at hand to pull me out when I misstep. And I will. But perhaps I won't sink so far - and I know you'll pull me out."

"If I'm here," the black minotaur said.

Both were silent, and then Lord Fog just stared at Lord Green for a moment. "I hope that does not ..."

"Yes," interrupted the black minotaur. "I know what you're asking, and the answer is yes, it does. I have a favor to ask."

"Does the Patriarch know?"

"No, I haven't told him yet. I was going to bring it up at the council this morning ..."

"I rather spoiled that, didn't I?"

"Yes. And I wasn't so sorry."

"You must tell him."

"Obviously," grunted the black minotaur. "I'm not one to keep ... to keep ..." the minotaur stopped, looked at Lord Fog with a glance of surprise. "That's how you did it, this morning. He already knew. Didn't he? You told him, didn't you!"

The gray minotaur sat back. "I ... yes. I went around the council's back, I admit it, but ... I did not feel I could go around his. I told Cresphontes what I was doing, and that ... I intended to proceed on my own authority." Lord Fog paused. "I did not ask his permission, but I suppose I ... I permitted him a veto, had he wished to exercise it. Long ago."

"Before Chelm?"

"Yes," Lord Fog admitted. "And he knew - vaguely - of my further intentions, that I was seeking a suitable subject. I ... perhaps I have gone wrong. Perhaps this is the terrible mistake you think it is. But ... perhaps it isn't?"

"The problem with that approach, is that once released, once the error is made, it's ... made, and others can make it," growled Lord Green. "Nikohorus has your notes, does he not?"

"Yes."

"And so it is now out of our hands," Lord Green continued. "And so you and I are reduced to ...hoping ... you are right, and that I am wrong."

A huff of breath was followed by a quiet, "I cannot find fault with your analysis. Should I have refused Nikohorus? It seemed ... impolitic. Ruus ... no. I did it, I accept the responsibility."

"That's harder to answer," Lord Green said, after a moment. "I would say yes, but ... an ally, an ally who had just suffered such a loss, in person, ... I do not know that I would have refused."

"But you would never have been in such a position."

"No."

"Well. I don't know that this helps," Lord Fog said. "You can see to the feral, or not. It is your authority and your responsibility to make the decision. If he is ready to go, he can go, if not ... then the opportunity, if it exist, is foreclosed. I want to make this possible; I am not committed to the action. But taking a step down this path makes the next step possible."

"I said I wanted a favor," Lord Green said.

"Yes."

"I haven't told you what it is," the black minotaur said, amused.

Lord Fog shrugged. "It will not be political, because you would not ask for that kind of favor."

"No, I suppose not. Even if I thought you might be inclined to grant one."

"There's nothing I'd like more," protested Lord Fog. "It's just that ... well. Leave it aside. What can I do for you, that I can do, and you would ask of me?"

"I do not ... care to have happen to me what happened to Dmitri," Lord Green said. "Will you promise me that?"

"What happened to him was very unusual," Lord Fog said, after a very long silence.

"Unusual, yes," Lord Green said quietly. "And I hope for a better outcome than that. I might even get it."

"Who knows?"

"Not I, not until I get there, and ... perhaps not even then. Which is why ... I am vesting you, Teodor, with my authority in that case. I'll talk to Cresphontes about that, too."

There was another long silence, and glasses were refilled again before the gray minotaur asked, "Xavien, are you certain you want ...me? I mean ..."

"You were not my first choice. But ... Lukas is no longer available." Lord Green said. "And it is not something I want ... hanging over me. I want someone ... someone with fortitude. He may need it. I want someone who argues with me." He paused. "Well. Someone who can argue with me, and will argue with me. Not necessarily someone who does argue with me."

"Metrios ..."

"Snivels," said the black minotaur, dismissively.

Lord Fog's expression flickered with something Nestor couldn't read, but all he said was, "Ianthos?"

This time, the dismissal wasn't even in words; just a half-amused, half-disgusted snort. "Doesn't come to a decision, sees this side, that side, goes looking for other sides ... no, he'd never_make_ the decision. Worse than useless."

"Cresphontes? I mean, he is your cousin. And it's not as if ..."

Lord Green shook his head. "Oh, he could do do it but ... no. Never him. I refuse to burden him with that. You can do it, and you_will_ do it, if it needs to be done ... and I think you'll know if it needs to be done."

"As you wish, then, Xavien. I am honored, and ... I hope I will never need to act."

The black minotaur snorted. "I suppose I should fix up your feral, then."

"If you think you should," Lord Fog said softly.

"I think I should. I also think you should get the Patriarch's explicit permission to proceed any farther. Will you agree to that?"

"Yes," said Lord Fog. "That does not change my plans one whit. I hardly think my authority stretches to diplomatic overtures, and ... the last one I tried went spectacularly poorly, in any case. But I may press the possibility."

"And I may oppose it," said Lord Green.

"Well, perhaps it should be opposed, in that case."

"As long as we are clear."

"I believe we are clear, Lord Green."

"How pleasant to be in agreement with you, Lord Fog."

"I daresay it won't last," the gray minotaur offered.

"All the more pleasant, then, for its very evanescence," the black minotaur intoned, his voice almost like a chant. "Your feral ..."

"Stacy?" the black minotaur asked, baffling Nestor. "Are you ..." he broke off, as if he were listening, and then continued. "Have my workroom prepared. I will need Dog and Lathe, and ... they will need to be seen to afterwards. Suggestions?" Another short silence. "Acceptable. Lord Fog and I will be down shortly." Another pause was followed by, "Yes?" Lord Green nodded knowingly. "Excellent. I trust they can wait until our guests depart?" This time the pause was followed with, "I do not think it is an inconvenience; offer them whatever refreshment they may prefer."

Lord Green looked at Lord Fog. "By the time we arrive, all will be in readiness."

"I thank you, Lord Green. I know you prefer to work alone, but any assistance I can offer will be yours, of course."

"I do, generally, but Breaker is not available, so ... I could, in fact, use an assistant. If you could open the matrices?"

"Yes, certainly." Lord Fog was quiet for a moment, and then put his glass down. "Do I infer correctly that you can use_three_ lenses, simultaneously, while supporting detailed work yourself?"

"It is not altogether simultaneous, Lord Fog," said Lord Green, rising. "Three are set-spells, and the lens holds them, freeing my concentration for the more difficult task."

"Interesting," said Lord Fog. "I don't believe I've ever seen someone use multiple lenses."

"It's just like using a single lens, except you're using two. Or three. Not a remarkable thing," demurred Lord Green. "Don't misunderstand me, Lord Fog, there's no better mage-healer than myself, although Basil - Lord Hunt -"

"Venrir, yes," interjected Lord Fog, pausing to let the other minotaur precede him through the door. The gray minotaur gestured for Nestor to follow, and they set off down a corridor.

"- is every bit as good as I am. But working with multiple lenses is surprisingly easy. It only_sounds_ hard."

"I'll bear that in mind. Although I do agree with your categorization of your own skills, Lord Green."

"Thank you, Lord Fog. I appreciate that."

"Not at all. Perhaps I'm just seeing how long our evanescent experience can go."

"Hmmm. Do I sense an upcoming change of topic?"

"A point of curiosity, and ... a desire for your opinion."

"Ask."

"Mages arise uncontrollably. Admittedly, there are more in some families than others, but ... it is not something that can be predicted. Yes?"

"Yes," said Lord Green, as the lengthening pause indicated that Lord Fog was waiting for an answer.

"Sasha, for example, would never have entered the councils of Lycaili had he not become a mage."

"No," said Lord Green. "I expect not."

"So. Is that randomness, that ... surprise elevation of unexpected persons ... a benefit to our clan? Or is it a hindrance."

"In the case of Sasha, I should say a benefit," Lord Green said immediately.

"Quite," agreed Lord Fog. "Yet more agreement. But, of course, not every minotaur is Sasha, and even with the best of intentions, not every minotaur can rise to to the occasion so splendidly as he did. So the question remains, is the ... surprise elevation to our benefit, or is it, overall, a disadvantage?"

The black minotaur opened a door, and started down a set of stairs. "That is a difficult question," he said finally. "I presume it has to do with your, pardon me, with_Sasha's,_ new apprentice."

"In part," said Lord Fog. "In part it occurred to me to wonder. I myself would have probably gotten warrior-training, and returned to my family's orchards; no part of my expectations - or desires, for that matter - involved high society." He chuckled. "Thing have worked out differently."

"Somehow I doubt you would have been content with breeding new pear varietals."

"I might have branched out to grapes and apricots," admitted Lord Fog. "I recall an interest in oenology. And other pursuits, but all ... fairly agricultural. Mostly."

"You were studying ancient history intensively, as well."

"I enjoyed the research, as much as the subject," said Lord Fog thoughtfully. "In any case, I present the question, and once you've had some time to ruminate on it, I would appreciate hearing your thoughts on the matter."

"Are you considering some kind of lottery for a lordship?" asked Lord Green.

"No," said Lord Fog thoughtfully. "I hadn't considered that, but ... it's an interesting thought."

"It's a_terrible_ thought!" said Lord Green, shocked.

"Maybe it is," said Lord Fog, amiably. "But it's_interesting_ one. It is, in some way, how we select mages."

"No," said Lord Green. "It is not."

They walked into a large room. Hangers on the wall held a stunning number of potted plants, giving the room an earthy smell, but they were confined to the walls. Something between a large cot and a small wood table stood in the exact center of the room, and a smaller, dusky-white minotaur was waiting at it with two crouching men, both naked, one at each end of the table. The table itself was wood, and topped with a thin green sheet or blanket. Softly glowing stones, carved into elaborately petaled flowers, shed an indirect but clear light throughout the room.

"I'm not sure how it differs," Lord Fog said thoughtfully. "It seems unpredictable to me. I would like to understand what difference you see in it."

"It isn't purely random; the Creators built it into us just as they built the responsibility to use it wisely into us," Lord Green said. "Thus, possession of the power is proof of one's potential to merit it." He paused. "For minotaurs."

"We are discussing minotaurs, I agree. You have a pleasant workroom, I must say."

"Yes," Lord Green said, glancing about. "Have your feral disrobe, and get on the table."

"Do you think the Creators were so prescient? I mean ... their plans seemed to go awry in ... so many ways. You're not a Creatorian, are you?"

"No, I believe they erred substantially and repeatedly. But in this, it seems like the barest amount of consideration would show ... would ..." Lord Green paused, and turned to look at Lord Fog with a look of horrified surprise. "Creator's folly, Teodor!" The black minotaur glanced about the room.

"You," he said, pointing at Nestor. "Disrobe. Get on the table, laying back down. My assistants will show you. I need a private word with Lord Fog before we begin this. Dog. I want you at the head of the table. Lathe, I want you at the foot. Stacy. See to it that all is ready when I ... when we return."

"As you wish, My Lord," the off-white minotaur said.

"Please follow me, Teodor. I should like a word," the still upset Lord Green said. His words might have been a question; his tone was not.

"It would be my pleasure, Xavien."

The two minotaur left the room, and closed the door. The two humans quickly moved around the table, trading places. The minotaur watched Nestor for a moment, and then spoke. "You may put your clothes on the floor."

"Excuse me?"

The minotaur - Stacy, Nestor thought - stared at him, and tapped the table with one hand. "Your master and My Lord may return at any moment, and I can practically guarantee that any conversation with Lord Fog will leave my Lord ... unhappy. There is no reason to give him an excuse to work out his displeasure on you. Also, I understand that you are a feral, but your life will be much easier if you address minotaurs as_Sir_."

"Yes, thank you for reminding me." As unnatural as it felt, he added a "Sir."

"Be doubly certain you remember with Lord Green, or address him as_Great Lord_," Stacy warned. "And he gave you explicit instructions. Remove your clothing, and get on the table."

Nestor nodded, and stripped quickly. That felt odd, although that the other two men were naked, too, helped. Except that their names weren't reassuring. Dog? Lathe? What sort of ...

Lord Green re-entered the room in a controlled fury. "An accident!" he snarled.

"It was. And I am not sorry about it, either." The other mage just sighed. "Do you still want my assistance, Lord Green?"

"Yes." The word was bitten off as if it, too, offended. "I will require it."

The gray minotaur walked over to the far side of the table, and put his hand on Nestor's chest. "Then let us start."

"Not quite yet. Feral. Listen carefully, because I will need your acknowledgment. Do you hear me?"

"Yes," Nestor said, adding "Sir."

Lord Green did not seem to notice the slight hesitation. "You are going to lose the power of movement while I am working. From time to time, you will feel ... odd sensations. They will not be painful, or uncomfortable - but they will be strange. Do not let them alarm you." Lord Green put a hand on Dog's head, and Nestor felt a lassitude sweep over him. "You can still blink. If, for some reason, you feel there is something you must bring to my attention, blink rapidly. Show me."

Nestor quickly tested, and found that the black minotaur was right; he couldn't move, except for his eyelids. He blinked them quickly.

"Good. Now, you are about to experience one of those ... strange sensations. I may not always warn you, but for this first one ..." the minotaur stepped around the table, and put a hand on the other human.

Strange, thought Nestor, seemed both too little and too much for the sudden disconnection he felt, a sort of warm stirring throughout his body. Still, it didn't hurt.

"There. Now, Teodor ... let us see what needs doing ..."

"The heart, presumably?"

"No, that needs to happen later. I want to make sure that the circulation is working properly. Getting halfway into the heart and then discovering ..."

"I see," said Lord Fog. "Speaking of discovering, I had every intention of consulting with you. Indeed, that's what I was doing. I was ... well, I was working my courage up to telling you. I don't relish these ... conversations. They are beyond unpleasant. Perhaps I should have just ..."

"Told me?" Lord Green set both hands on Nestor's chest. "Heart, lungs ... liver.Look at the liver."

"It looks fine to me," Lord Fog said. "Yes, perhaps I should have just told you. Although ... my experiences with doing that have not been significantly better."

"It is_not_ fine," Lord Green said. "Although ... I will grant it probably looks fine to you. But ... open it, will you?"

"Certainly." Nestor felt a cool bubbling in his stomach, and that continued for several minutes.

"I will grant that I might ... have overreacted, if you'd told me," Lord Green said finally. "I'm done, by the way ... nice close, nice close. I thought I'd do the shoulder next."

The bubbling sensation restarted in his left shoulder. "Puncture, slash, scar ..." sighed Lord Green. It brought the spear he'd taken there to Nestor's mind almost immediately.

"Was that inflammation damage, at the bone?"

"Yes," said Lord Green absently. "Could have been worse, though. There. Close." The bubbling sensations stopped. "Circulation is holding nicely. Open the heart, please. Properly."

"Of course." This time, the bubbling was in his chest.

"Yes, that's what I needed. It's just that ... why is it always_you_? Never happens to Ianthos. Never happens to Sasha. Never happens to Ruus. It's always - always - Teodor."

"It does seem that way. What are you doing ..."

"The entire thing has to be rebuilt. You see the dead flesh, right?"

"Yes ..."

"Everything touching it is damaged. Almost everything touching that is damaged."

"That's practically the entire heart."

"It_is_ the entire heart, and a good portion of the aorta, and both vena cava, and the dexter pulmonary artery, and ... yes, the sinister pulmonary veins." said Lord Green. "I can see why Nikos left it for me. Although there's no excuse for the liver. He could have fixed that." A short pause. "Or the joints."

"Perhaps he thought that, as long as you were ..."

"You don't need to find excuses for him."

"No. I do beg your forgiveness. What's wrong with the joints?"

"Hips and knees, don't you ... no, you wouldn't see that. Pity you're not earth-affined enough to see it."

"I am content with my abilities, Xavien."

"Still. You're good at opening and closing. Generally I do that through a lens."

"Hard on the lens, isn't it?"

"What they're there for, Teodor," Lord Green said. "Couldn't do what I do without them."

"No, that's true enough," sighed Lord Fog.

"What?"

"Can we ... pass on this particular discussion, please?"

"If you wish."

"I wish," sighed Lord Fog. "Finally, it does some good."

That made Lord Green chuckle. "The cushioning cartilage is disintegrating. See?"

Silence, and then, "No. It seems the right thickness. I see nothing wrong with it. What do you see?"

"It's coming apart. Open the matrix for me. Yes. There, exactly. Do you know, Teodor, as fulsomely infuriating as it is to talk with you, working with you is exactly the opposite. You have a fine touch."

"It's kind of you to say so."

"No; when you open tissue up for work I can still see the structure." A pause. "Or, in this case, the incipient disintegration of structure. Nothing gets blurred. It's ... I hate to admit it, but you may be better than I am at this."

"It does me little enough good."

"No, but it does_me_ good," Lord Green replied. "I may ... would it be convenient for you to join me in some of my rounds?"

"If Ruus agrees, I would be honored, although I seem to be quite pressed at the moment."

"The other knee, please," Lord Green said absently. "Thank you."

"Not at all," murmured Lord Fog. "It seems little enough."

"As opposed to resetting the spell through a lens_each time_?" asked Lord Green, sounding incredulous. "It's practically a pleasure not to have to do that. And my lenses are busy, anyway ... I'd need to recall Breaker."

"I always wondered why you needed so many," Lord Fog said.

"Complex healing work. Complex water spells, the extension spell itself, ... four is not too many, and when I have to shift the spells they're holding ..."

"Fatigue, yes."

"No. Burnout," said Lord Green. "I'm using them, they are not letting themselves be used. And that is ..."

"I'd think it careless, then."

"Yes," sighed Lord Green. "You are not far wrong. Once or twice there has simply been insufficient care to go around. And Dog and Breaker are lightweights; they can't hold a strong spell well, and resetting the spell more than once or twice ... they're not up to that. Lathe seems to be stronger, but I'm not sure where his limits are and I'd rather not find out.

"Elbow?"

"Which one?"

"Either. Ah. Thank you."

"Not at all, not at all. Of course you don't want to overtask any of them. You can't judge when they're being overwhelmed?"

"No, not until it happens. And it's easy to do. None of them are even as strong as Trand."

"Trand," Lord Fog said. "And are you having second thoughts about him?"

"No ... well, perhaps. I don't doubt his competence, nor his readiness, just his strength. I'd thought ... I'd thought I did. But now ..."

"He'll be fine," Lord Fog said.

"I know," Lord Green said. "Can you open up the rest of the arm, down to the hand?"

"Maybe," said Lord Fog. "I've never tried that, just ... hmmm. Like that?"

"Almost. The tendons ... yes, like that. Is this a stretch for you?"

"I've never done this much, but ... no, it's not too much. I might be able to open the entire arm, if you wanted."

"No, no, that would be ..." Lord Green was silent. "Well, that would have been difficult for_me_. Very impressive."

"It's ... I don't think I could hold more," Lord Fog admitted. "This is fine, but ... it's at the limit of fine, if you know what I mean."

"I do, I do, and ... really, I don't need so much. Please don't overextend yourself. That would be ..."

"Reckless?" The word held a hint of humor.

"I might call it so, yes," the other minotaur said. "Liver."

"Certainly."

"Do you_see_ that?"

"I ... no," sighed Lord Fog. "It seems like a perfectly healthy liver."

"It won't in five years," Lord Green said. "It's ... but_why_ is it ..." The minotaur fell silent. "Strange. Poisoned, maybe?"

"When?"

"A long time ago," the minotaur said. "It's ... might have been an illness. I can't tell what caused it, the cause is long gone, but the damage ..."

"But you can fix it,"

"Oh, yes, yes," Lord Green said absently. "I've just never seen anything leave this kind of trace before."

"I thought you'd seen everything."

"And so did I. Mushrooms, maybe?"

"Perhaps I should bring Zebra to you."

"Zebra?" Lord Green gave a faint sigh. "Yet another feral?"

"Chelm's wrestling prodigy."

"Oh, yes. Why?"

"He's got some kind of metabolic poison build-up in his blood. I can purge it, but Trand couldn't find an underlying cause."

"Really? Trand's got a good sense for that. I'm intrigued. But I trust this is not urgent?"

"Oh, no, not at all, we can see to it when I get back, at your convenience."

"Good. There. Close. Thank you. Do you think you can open the entire gut?" A moment of silence, and then, "You do have a touch. That's magnificent. I wish you could see it as I do ... "

"I'm quite satisfied ... what are you doing?"

"Just looking. How extraordinary. I never knew ... I must ask you to assist me again, Teodor. When you open like this, I can see how everything works together. I mean, I_knew_, but I could never see, not all of it, not all at the same time ... you have no idea." The minotaur snorted. "I barely had an idea. Why haven't we done this before?"

"Because our discussions of policy do not stay discussions, Xavien."

"If you'd just be reasonable, that wouldn't happen."

"Do you know, I could say the very same thing."

"Yes, but ..." and Lord Green stopped. "Yes."

"Yes."

"Well," said Lord Green. "I think that takes care of your feral. Should I apply the stabilization spell, or should we just let all this work ... undo itself over the next few years?"

Stabilization spell? wondered Nestor.

"Stabilize him, by all means, certainly," Teodor said. "If you would be so good. I hadn't realized ... although I suppose if Nikos hadn't bothered healing him, he wouldn't have bothered with stabilizing him."

"Probably," grunted Lord Green. "There. Good ... well, not good as new, but ...good."

A sudden chill swept over Nestor, as the two other humans who had been kneeling collapsed onto the floor.

"Are they all right," Lord Fog said.

"Oh, yes ..." Lord Green said. "Or they will be. I just pulled the spell. They'll come back to themselves in a few minutes ... Stacy will take care of them."

"Ah. Can he get up?"

"Ask him. Probably not, though."

"Feral," Lord Fog addressed him, "you may be a bit ... fatigued."

"Exhausted, not fatigued. Perfectly normal reaction, given how much work I ...we did," Lord Green said, but Nestor felt that the comment was addressed more to Lord Fog than to him.

"Exhausted ... that's not ... well. I promised him I'd explain ..."

The other minotaur snorted. "You will have to put off your explanations. He's going to pass out ... soon."

"That's ..."

"An unavoidable fact," Lord Green said.

"Then I should get him home," Lord Fog said, picking Nestor up.

"I have no objection," the black minotaur said as he followed Lord Fog out of the room.

That sounded perfectly natural to Nestor, but the other stopped walking to look at him suspiciously. "And what, Lord Green, do you mean?"

"Nothing, nothing," the black minotaur said, and now Nestor heard a faint trace of amusement leaking into his voice. "Only that it is ... late, and getting later, and I had hoped to look over some few things before bed."

"I wouldn't wish to keep to keep you from anything," Lord Fog said, starting down the corridor again.

"There's nothing urgent," Lord Green said, expansively. "This way, Lord Fog."

"Thank you."

Nestor was awakened out of a half-sleep by Lord Fog's sudden halt, He turned his head, to see five more minotaur - all dressed in the same somber gray as Lord Fog, waiting for them.

"My Lord Fog," one of them said.

"Oz!" said Lord Fog. "What a pleasure ..." and then paused. "At least I trust it is pleasure?"

"It is, and business," the other said calmly. "I am much obliged to Lord Green for letting me know where to find you."

"Are you," said Lord Fog.

"As you may have forgotten, My Lord, I have been appointed your Master of Guard." There was a short silence, and then he continued, "you_were_ informed, were you not?"

"I knew it was_going_ to happen," admitted Lord Fog. "I had no idea ..."

"The Patriarch contacted me directly after his meeting with you, My Lord. And I have been_hunting_ you ever since. I am given to understand that you have stationed your Guard at Mistingrise, Gray Hote, and House Gray."

"That seemed ..."

"I have sent orders to consolidate your Guard," Oz continued, as if Lord Fog hadn't spoken. "Especially when I discovered from your senior guard - Warlord Filius - that you were wandering the Labyrinth_without your guard_. Accompanied by a slave, and nothing else. A slave who, in all likelihood, lacks even warrior-training. Even Lord Green, My Lord, who is a tempus master himself as well as an accomplished weaponsmaster is not so rash as to wander about without his guard."

"Only because Havel won't let me," Lord Green said with a smile.

"Indeed he will not," said Oz. "He would be derelict in his duty to permit such a thing." He looked meaningfully at Lord Fog.

"I would hardly wish anyone to be derelict in their duty," Lord Fog said, after a moment. "Welcome to my Guard, Warlord Osaze, and ... I fear I do not know these other bulls."

"May I make known to you Warlord Hammet, Warlord Uarth, Warlord Leonidas, and Armsmaster Gregori, all now members of your Guard."

"I greet you all," said Lord Fog, who seemed to have recovered his aplomb. "And I am pleased you'd consent to join my guard on a temporary basis, and I am sorry that the assignment will be, no doubt, dull."

"I beg your forgiveness, My Lord, but my assignment is not temporary," Gregori said. "The Patriarch was quite clear on that point to me, and requested I make that point to you at the earliest moment."

"I see," Lord Fog said. "No doubt we can discuss this at some later point."

"We can," Warlord Osaze said. "Where will it please you to spend the night? House Gray or Hote Gray? And, of course, House Wide is always open to you, Lord Fog."

"I'm not sure that even House Gray is large enough for my newly expanded guard," Lord Fog said. "If it wouldn't be imposing on you ..."

"I should be delighted to have you as a guest, My Lord, and my house is fully open."

"I might add that from a security perspective, House Wide is by far the most acceptable location, My Lord, Warlord," said Grigori. "Hote Gray would be extremely difficult to secure. House Gray is a little better. House Wide ... I should rest easier if you would choose to sleep there, My Lord."

"Armsmaster," said Lord Fog after a moment, "am I correct in guessing that you are an expert in security?"

"Yes, My Lord," Grigori said. "Security, counterespionage, and bodyguard."

"And ... were you, of late, of Cresphontes's personal guard?"

"I had that honor, yes, My Lord."

"Well." Lord Fog said nothing more than that.

"My Lord?" asked Grigori.

"I will be guided by your advice, Armsmaster. House Wide it is. I must admit that even Gray Hote does not have so excellent a set of soaking pools."

"Excellent," said Osaze. "Would you like one of us to carry the human?"

"No, no, I've got him. Thank you." The gray minotaur looked back at Lord Green, who was wearing that odd twisted minotaur grin. "And thank you, Lord Green, for your many considerations this night."

"Not at all, Lord Fog. Not at all."