Valor: Chapter 8

            Gustav woke to the sound of hobgoblins banging on the cell bars, and groggily rolled himself into a vaguely upright position. “Nngh… this is… atrocious,” he said bitterly, shimmying against the wall to get onto his feet.

            “Mrrm,” Michael agreed. “Try sleeping with platemail on.”

            A guard entered the cell and motioned with his mace. Gustav brushed him off. “I’m going! For God’s sake, calm down.”

            “From what I can make out, we’re going to see the chief,” Elias said once they were all out of the cell, two guards both in front of and behind them.

            Michael scoffed. “No wonder they’re so jumpy. Goblin chiefs are petty creatures… they need little reason to give our punishments or rewards. I can’t imagine the hobbo version is much different.”

            Gustav groaned, leaning over for a second. The guard behind him growled, prodded him with the mace. William did his best to sidle up alongside Gustav and nudge him forward. “Come on Gus, you don’t want them striking you.”

            “Nnn, must they be so pushy,” Gustav gasped, shuffling forward. “Blasted things shouldn’t have kicked me so hard yesterday if they didn’t want me moving slow.”

            William smirked. “You sure that has nothing to do with all that… sugar stew they gave us last night that you ate?”

            “That was surprisingly good,” Michael said, glancing back, and then glanced at a Hobgoblin. “Voshka good. Voshka, mmm,” he said, doing his best to pantomime his opinion with his hands behind his back.

            One of the guards laughed upon realizing, and babbled in more of their hissing language. The others chuckled as well. Gustav groaned. “I was hungry. It had unabao fruit in it. I love unabao fruit.”

            “Still, you probably ate twice as much as Michael did. And it was so sweet… bleagh,” William shook his head. “Too sweet for my tastes.”

            “Utaan!” one of the guards said, and as they turned a corner, they came to a pair of heavy wooden doors. One of them spoke slowly to Elias, and then moved forward to the door. Glancing back, Elias said “he said if any of us try anything, we’ll be dead.”

            “A refreshing change of pace, then,” Gustav grumbled.

            Eventually they reached what had clearly been the ducal chamber long ago. Much like the chapel had been, the throne room was drastically modified. Hobgoblin ‘artwork’ was engraved into the nearby stone, and they had redecorated, with various bones and vines littering the hall. The throne itself was modified, with what looked like two Orc skulls placed at the end of the arm rests.

There were many hobgoblins in the room, and a pair of giant lizards, roughly the size of horses though far closer to the ground. Michael looked down at the azure blue carpet they were walking on, and knew that it had seen better days. Scratches, tears, and hastily cleaned stains of mud and blood tarnished it. Standing next to the throne was the Hobgoblin from yesterday, the Shaman Yerntas, wearing a fur-lined white robe and having a pair of antlers affixed to its hood.

And on the throne itself was the chieftain. He was bigger than the hobgoblins, though Michael felt he was larger still. It wore an iron cuirass and what looked like a golden diadem wrapped around its hairless head, though it had a full black beard. The most defining feature was the right eye, or lack thereof. A strip of black cloth acted as eyepatch, and some terrible scarring was visible beyond that.

“Kneel!” the guards said in Hobbo. Michael didn’t know that exactly, but given their situation he didn’t doubt it. Elias and Gustav knelt first, and after a moment, William did as well. But Michael had messed with goblins before, and remained standing. It took a few moments before a guard slammed the half of his mace into the back of his knees, sending a bolt of pain of his leg and forcing him to a kneel. Every small show of force and power helped though.

The shaman laughed, but the chieftain shot him a venomous glare. The shaman stopped. The chieftain stood, studying them for a moment. Then it spoke.

“My Tormin not great, but I spek-so you unnerstan!” it growled, and though it was rather broken, it was at least understandable.

“I Taesuus Chief As-Calaigius.You… humans. Humans, Elf, and…” it sneered as it looked at Gustav, “Lursass.”

Michael grit his teeth. Again, though he didn’t know what the word meant, he had a fairly good idea what it implied, especially with how distasteful As-Calaigius said it.

“Mowst times,” the chief began, reach around its throne and grabbing what was clearly an elven saber, long and curved, “I have you killed. New elves bad, weak. Humans? Humans rats.” It leaned over and spit in front of Michael.

Michael looked up at it, glaring. “And this time?”

The chief glared back, and then reached down, grabbing Michael’s face, distorting his face as his leathery fingers pressed in on his face. It laughed bitterly. “Stronn human, eh? Big and stronn?” Another bitter laugh before quickly releasing and then slapping Michael. Michael grunted, and all of them flinched, but no one moved. Good. Michael knew that, just as his standing had been, the slap had been more for show. It didn’t hurt. Much.

The chieftain grumbled something in hobbo that caused some laughter from those nearby. Michael cursed his inability to understand it. He’d really have to learn at least some basic Elven, especially if he was to be lord here.

The chieftain turned back to face them. “This time, I feel… feel…” it barked a few words at Yerntas. The shaman bowed before saying “my chief, he feels benevolent, and wishes to-”

“Utaan Yernta, yes, benviolent, and wish to… reward you for your spart against Orcs and Ukdead.”

Michael cocked an eyebrow, and glanced over at Elias. Elias shrugged. “Spart?” Gustav asked finally, when it was obvious none of them knew what he meant.

The chieftain growled. “Not know own tongue lursass? Spart!” he slammed a hand against his chest, breathing deep. “Make you fight, make you live! No saprise you not have!”

Elias spoke next, saying “Adag?” The chief nodded, repeating it, and then Elias clarified for them. “Spirit.”

“Oh.”

The chieftain’s fists opened and closed, and he paced back and forth in silence. “I get to point,” he said eventually, gritting his teeth. Clearly he wasn’t pleased about his inability to communicate.

“You prove selfs, fight in pit. Beat minotaur, then you go deeper in Tagarinis, get treasure for me.” He grinned maliciously. “Get treasure, I let you go with lives!”

There was a silence. Michael thought for a moment. What was a minotaur? It sounded vaguely familiar. Still, while Michael didn’t plan on giving the chieftain anything, he saw this as an opportunity “given our options, we have no choice but to accept. We’ll fight your, uh, minotaur?”

The chieftain grinned, and looked to the other hobgoblins nearby. He said something, and they began to cheer. “Good! Guards! Take them to the arena!” The chieftain grinned viciously. “Let them… prepare.”

William had his mace again. The hobgoblins had been ‘kind’ enough to give them back their actual gear. William wished that made him feel better.

“What is it we’re fighting?” Elias asked, looking over at Michael.

“I don’t know. A minotaur?”

“It sounds familiar,” Gustav mused as he flipped his dagger around his hand, clearly enjoying its return, and having his hands untied.

“A minotaur… it’s like a small ogre with a bull’s head, horns included.”

Everyone looked over at William. Gustav nodded after a moment. “That’s right, I remember now, I’ve read about them, but… how do you know about them? They’re quite rare, to my knowledge.”

William took a deep breath and looked up from his mace. “Minotaurs were creatures created by Maalidon, the old Toremen god of war. They were said to guard the royal family and the treasures of the gods, and were also apparently fierce opponents.” His face twisted, and he looked back down at his mace. “What I read wasn’t clear, but they were supposedly the works of blood magic, involving human sacrifice.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Gustav said, remembering. “I was reading a book on lost magical arts and Blood Magic was one of them.”

William looked over at him with a start. “What were you reading about that for? Such things are deplorable.”

Gustav frowned. “Not all lost arts are forbidden arts, William. Besides, what were you reading about them for?”

Wincing, William had to concede that point. “We were told to look into some of the old pagan gods, to better ‘know our enemy.’” He thought he heard Elias scoff, but decided to ignore it. “I looked into a few old Toremen deities specifically. Although many are accepted as having been folded into Asarianism, some are believed to be too violent or prideful to ever bow before God.”

“While this is all very educational” Michael interrupted, “did it happen to say how to kill the pagan demi-god we’re about to fight?”

William shook his head. “Not a demi-god. They’re strong, but especially after the fall of the old gods, they would’ve weakened. Even before, though, they were still flesh and blood.”

“So this should do the trick?” Michael said, brandishing his sword. With a frown, William nodded.

Elias seemed to notice William’s mood, however, and asked “you seem to have some reservations on this William. I’m a bit surprised… isn’t this thing technically an enemy of your God?”

William sighed. Of course Elias asked that. He knew the only one here who shared his beliefs outright was Michael, and to a small extent, maybe Gustav. But Elves rarely accepted any Triune faiths, even his own branch of Asarianism, which was one of the few that would accept Elves. “Perhaps, but by that definition, so would you, and so would any number of things. Maalidon is gone, or at least, powerless. Now, this creature, which for all we know might well have been a man, long ago,” he shook his head, “it’s now a captive of these hobgoblins.”

“Let’s not be too sympathetic yet,” Michael said, standing. “I see what you’re saying Will, but this is still a monster. I’m sure it’s killed for the hell of it. A monster that was once a man, why, that’s no different from an undead. Killing it might be doing its soul a favor, hmm?”

William cocked his head a little. He supposed that made some sense. It was simply bound to earth in a bestial form. He couldn’t remember everything he had read years ago, but he did remember that Minotaurs weren’t that bright, especially without a god to command them.

“I suppose you’re right. Still, this is killing for sport. It doesn’t sit well with me.”

“It’s killing for survival,” Gustav said, pocketing his dagger and then cracking his knuckles. “They’ve unbound me and Elias, but we still couldn’t escape with all our magic, and they know this.”

“I’m not fond of this bloodsport either,” Elias said, “but I think we have little choice. We can’t possibly take on this entire place.”

William sighed. He knew all of this. Of course he did. It still seemed wrong on several levels though, and he reached up and ran his thumb over his cross once more. While he thought he was doing all this to bring God to this place, and cleanse it of evil, he couldn’t help but feel he was doing the Devil’s work, and not God’s. Still, he knew he had to help his friends, for abandoning them now would surely be against the Commandments of the Lord.

“I’ll be ready shortly,” he said, but moved off his seat, going to his knees. He began to speak, quietly, in the holy language of Achdrammen. He hoped God would hear him. He opened his eyes briefly when he saw Michael kneel down as well, and begin to try and echo his words. He smiled, though didn’t stop his prayer. To his surprise, Gustav knelt down as well, though he stayed silent and kept his hands on his knees.

“Our father in heaven, may you protect us from disaster, from affliction, and weakness, and if we should falter, may your judgment be fair and understanding…”

Elias stood off to the side as the humans prayed. He couldn’t understand much of it, never having learned any Achdrammen. He was honestly surprised when Gustav kneeled down, though realized it may have been more for show than anything else.

He looked to the bars around their ready room. How well would this go? He felt they would make short work of the minotaur. Even if it used to be some sort of divine soldier, there was one of it, and four of them. They had magic, while this thing didn’t. Honestly, this seemed almost humiliating.

A pair of hobgoblin guards came down the hall, carrying a sack that clinked and clanged as they walked. The lead guard began to speak, but stopped and stared at the humans for a moment.

“… What are they doing?” it asked, more to the other guard than Elias. Still, Elias understood, so gave his two cents. “Praying to their god.”

“That is humans praying?” The guard laughed. “If I was the human god, I would be asleep from all this!”

Elias happened to agree. But he’d be damned if he was going to agree with a hobgoblin. “Well, the last thing you want to do is wake their god up.”

“Huh?” The lead guard asked. The sack carrier looked over too, saying “what do you mean Elf?”

Elias leaned towards the bars, asking “you know humans praise the light and all, yes?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah. Iron-Tongue calls the human god Sky-father, because he lives in the clouds or something.”

“Well,” Elias said, glancing back at them, “he sleeps up there. The Sky-father is a big bat, you see, and when he wakes up during the darkness, he summons storms and floods with every flap of his wings.”

“You tell lies Elf!” the guard leader said, shaking his head. “Just big old man on cloud with three heads, Iron-Tongue says.”

Elias shrugged. “Believe what you will, but why would your shaman tell you about something you’d be scared of?”

The sack carrier laughed, jabbing the other guard in the ribs. “Jakar, you are afraid of bats, remember time you scream like baby after-”

“Utaan!” the guard said, smacking the other one in the face, and then taking his sword and banging it against the bars. “Boste utaan! All stand!” it yelled, switching to broken Toremen. “All come here, now!”

The humans stood, and they all came to the bars. “Are you going to lead us to the arena?” Michael asked, though the only response he got back was another curt “utaan.”

The one with the sack pulled out four strips of cloth with a link of chain on either end, and two lengths of chain. “You bite clat,” he said, holding up the cloth, “we click! No talking! You take clat out, shoot!” He jabbed into William’s chest for emphasis.

“So they’re handicapping us,” Gustav said grimly.

“Seems so,” Elias countered.

“Utaan or shooted! Bite clat!” he said, taking one of the cloth strips and thrusting it into Elias’ face. His nose scrunched at it. The cloth seemed clean, but who knew down here?

They all bit down on it, and then the guard tentatively opened the gate. Holding his sword at the ready, the other one began to affix the cloth.

Then, before Elias could react, one of the chains was clasped onto his right wrist, and then the other end of it to William’s left. The same happened with Gus and Michael. Elias murmured a protest, but the hobgoblin just growled at him. “You think chief stupid?” it asked in Hobbo. “Four on one proves nothing. You win like this, then you maybe earn chief’s respect.”

“Now come on!” the other guard said. “We go to arena now!”

The other guard dropped the now empty sack and pulled his own sword, and the now-bound pairs were pushed forward. Elias glanced down at his wrist, and then over to William. William shared the look. Elias wasn’t positive about what William was thinking, nor could he ask, but the fact that the chain was metal was the most grating thing to him. It meant that, unless he felt like frying the cleric, he wouldn’t be able to use his lightning spell. Spells in general would be difficult to pull off.

At the very least William knew how to fight. Elias had known Gustav longer than the rest, and that’s why he felt Michael would be the most handicapped here. It was like strapping a pony to a warhorse. Elias sighed. They’d get through this, it just might take some doing.

They were eventually marched into a relatively open arena. Elias wasn’t sure what purpose the wide open chamber originally held, but it looked to be rather modified, with “seating” installed along the sides. To the left of them was a blocked off area where the chieftain sat. Elias tried to get a count of the hobgoblins in attendance, assuming this was much of their numbers. Maybe a hundred? How many of them could fight? Probably most.

A voice began to ring out over the crowd, but it wasn’t the chieftain. It was the shaman. He knew the humans wouldn’t understand it, but Elias could make out what Yerntas was saying clearly. “How long has it been since our last fight? Since blood was shed on our arena floor?!”

Cries of “too long!” and “forever!” rang out.

“Ever since we lay under siege by orcs and undead, we have been almost trapped, unable to find beasts or fodder to prove themselves to our chieftain!”

Cheers rose up, and the chief roared along with them, waving its saber.

“Today we have our latest invaders… two humans, one a follower of their three-headed sky-father, a lowborn, and one of the fallen Elves of their new empire!” Elias glanced over. William hadn’t understood the insult to his god, but clearly Gustav understood enough of it to glare daggers at Yerntas.

“They will be tested against our most steadfast combatant, our reigning champion, and the last warrior of Maalidon! My fellow Taesuus! Your prayers for blood have been answered, for we unleash the Minotaur!”

A gate opened on the opposite end of the arena, and the guards around them quickly ran off, closing their own gate behind them. Yelling and the cracks of whips were followed by a loud bellow, and out it came.

It stood seven feet tall, and had a build like a large, muscular man. Its legs ended in hooves, and a relatively short tail whipped behind it. It was covered in a coat of short brown fur, though scarring was visible even through that. And its head was just as William had said, that of a bull’s, fierce and angry, with two horns curving forward, easily large enough to gore a man.

Its gate slammed shut behind it, and the minotaur roared up at the crowd, which cheered. Yerntas called out in Toremen, yelling “your food lies across from you, beast! Slay them if you hunger so!”

The minotaur’s head bore down on them. It roared again, and Elias saw one difference from a normal bovine; the teeth were not that of something that calmly chewed grass. This thing ate whatever it wanted to, and by the look in its eyes, it wanted to eat whatever it got its hands on.

Elias pulled his mashaat a second before William and Michael drew their respective weapons, and about the same time the minotaur charged. It thundered across the stone floor of the arena, and luckily everyone had the same idea; get out of the way. William and Elias pulled left, while Michael and Gustav pulled right.

This was no simple bullfight, though. The minotaur was quick to turn, and charged again, aiming for Elias and William. They tried to move out of the way again, but the minotaur held an arm out. Elias was fast enough to drop down and avoid the clothesline. William wasn’t, and Elias was dragged backwards a few feet before William stopped moving. The minotaur slowed but didn’t stop, hooves almost a foot around aiming to trample them. Elias put all of his strength into throwing him and William out of the way, and then twisted under the chain. His right arm was at an awkward angle, but luckily for him, elves didn’t have that “dominant hand” nonsense that humans did. His left hand could use his blade just as well as his right, and proved it by putting a bright red line along the minotaur’s thigh. It was appreciated about as much as he expected, and he the minotaur backhanded him, tossing them both away a few feet.

Michael was able to intervene at that point, though barely. He made thrusts at the minotaur while trying to yell through his gag, which seemed to work to some extent. The minotaur backed off slightly, posturing right back.

Elias tried to shake the blow-induced haze from his head, and William helped him stand. He made a motion towards Elias’ leg. It took a moment for Elias to understand, and then he shook his head. Honestly, he hadn’t even remembered his earlier leg injuries.

The minotaur had enough posturing, and after backing up a few paces, began to charge forward. Michael threw up his shield, but Gus clearly had a better idea. He stepped in front of Michael and threw up his arms, and a barrier of arcane energy erupted out of the ground. As soon as the minotaur got close it threw its hands in front of its face, letting out a roar.

The crowd went mad over that though. Clearly they weren’t used to seeing magic. Elias was a bit surprised too. Gustav had gotten better at casting spells with his hands alone, apparently. Still, that barrier wouldn’t hold long. Elias urged William to follow him, and he moved to their left, aiming to circle the minotaur, which continued to try and push through the barrier. A distraction Elias couldn’t pass up.

            He moved so that William was more behind the creature, and then slashed at its shoulder before ducking low. The minotaur whirled, roaring. It swung its fist, but then seeing how low Elias was, it made to stomp him.

            Elias knew William couldn’t read his mind. Much like the minotaur, he was hoping instinct would do the work. He pulled with his right arm, pulling William down so that he was closer in. He apparently got the point, and he came down he dove, tackling the minotaur’s stable leg. It fell down, prompting another cheer from the crowd.

            Elias and William moved to scramble away from the fallen creature, but then Elias felt himself pulled back by his left. The minotaur had reached around and grabbed the chain binding them together.

            The most frightening thing about that moment wasn’t the bestial rage Elias saw, but the thinking wrath behind the snarl that curled up the minotaur’s lip.

            Elias and William went airborne, being swung around by the minotaur like a pair of human flails. The minotaur slammed them into the floor, and then rose them up to do so again. Michael would have none of that, and ran forward, passing through barrier Gustav had erected.

            Poor, unfortunate Gustav was pulled along for the ride. He was certain being tied to Elias or William would be a better fate. But no, he had to be tied to the other bull in this arena.

            Michael’s sword plunged into the minotaur’s side, with William and Elias falling to the stone. Gustav felt himself fortunate that he wasn’t bound to Michael’s sword arm, but his shield arm. That was until the minotaur took a step back, and then moved forward, head lowered to gore them. Michael’s years of training and instinct threw his shield up to protect him.

            He wasn’t used to person going with it.

            Gustav stumbled, pushing Michael forward as the minotaur hit. The minotaur’s head whipped upward as if it was on a spring, and the two went flying through the air, tumbling across the ground two yards away, with Gustav feeling the wind knocked out of him by Michael’s heavy armored frame.

            Michael made to stand, not even slowed down, at least by Gustav’s standards. Gustav wanted to strangle him. Not everyone is used to being tossed around like a rag doll, Michael!

            Gustav grinned at that thought. His internal complaint gave him an idea.

            He checked, and the minotaur was still focused on them, pawing at the cracked stone with its feet, ignoring William and Elias, who were still recovering from their own assault. Gustav grabbed Michael’s shoulder, and then knocked on his helmet. Michael looked over at him, and then Gustav grabbed his shield. It was heavy, heavier than he expected, but it would work.

            Gustav then got behind Michael. Michael made some sort of mumbling sound. Gustav, thankfully, couldn’t hear it, and began to cast a spell.

            Unfortunately, the minotaur charged. Michael pulled them sharply to the side, rolling across the dirty floor. Gustav did his best to focus on the spell. Spellcasting, aside from requiring arcane energy, usually needed a verbal component to ‘direct’ the energy. Somatic components such as hand or body gestures sped it up or made them more effective. Fully somatic spellcasting could be a bit tougher, especially while in motion. Gustav had little option, though.

            Not even fully reared up, the minotaur turned towards Michael, clawing across the floor like a jungle ape. Michael jabbed forward with his sword, forcing the minotaur to redirect or find itself with a sword in its skull. The minotaur charged again, and Michael thrust again. This time, though, the minotaur’s horn hooked the sword and took it from Michael’s grasp, sending it away. Michael glanced back at Gustav.

            Gustav hoped this would work.

            He moved in front of Michael again, holding Michael’s shield in front of him. The minotaur made to charge once more, and given that Gustav wasn’t nearly as strong as Michael, a block would have gone very poorly. Gustav didn’t intend on keeping the shield, though.

            Gustav had a spell that some called the “knocker.” The intended use was to blow in doors, blow off locks, or with a strong enough mage, even knock a hole in a wall. He knew the science behind it. Massive seismic vibrations emitted from the mage’s hand into whatever he was touching, propelling it away from him.

            In the case of a shield?

            It was as if explosion went off, with Michael and Gustav stumbling backwards as the shield was propelled forward. It was slammed into the head of the minotaur faster than a clap of thunder, sending it staggering. Michael stood back up as fast as possible, and Gustav did his best to keep up. He noticed the small nod from his old friend. Well, at least Michael saw the point of that.

            It would’ve been more fortunate if it had worked better. Even though a decent sized gash had been opened over the minotaur’s eye, it didn’t seem slowed down any. William was finally managing to get up, and the minotaur noticed.

            Michael scrambled forward to grab his sword, but Gustav saw they couldn’t get there in time. William was barely even awake, and the minotaur was charging him down.

            Gustav was about to watch his friend die… and it would be his fault. He had been the one to bring William here, along with the rest. And now he would die because of that?

            William was barely able to fathom what had happened. His head was spinning even now, and his body ached. He had briefly checked Elias before he stood. Breathing but unconscious. How many times would he have to heal this elf?

            Of course, that was hardly a concern when he heard the great sound made by Gustav’s attack. He spun towards the sound, but grabbed his head. By the time his vision cleared, he saw the bull’s head bearing down on him.

            His mace was nowhere near. He had no time for his magic, nor even the sense of mind. There was part of him that accepted this; this is where God would will him to die, and so it would be.

            The flame that erupted around him was unexpected. Part of him wondered if that meant his fate was everything but the eternal bounty of heaven. Then he realized he was still alive, knocked back down and hot.

            His hands flew to his head, patting out the cinders in his beard and hair. The minotaur was in much worse shape, completely enveloped in flames. The crowd was going mad, and he saw Yerntas yelling to the guards which were bringing the gates up. William looked around to the only possible source of the fire, Gustav.

            Gustav was on the ground, smoke rising from his body. Michael was patting on small fires. William threw himself forward, dragging Elias with him. His free hand reached up and unclasped the cloth binding, no longer caring. Michael had done the same.

            “Gus! By God, what happened, Gus?!”

            William leaned down, taking his cross into hand. “How did this happen? What got him?!”

            “Nothing, he cast his spell, but it was like it… backfired or something!”

            Elias groaned, pulling himself up. He didn’t seem too well off himself, but he heard them talking and did his best to speak. “Happens. Cast a spell, didn’t direct it… magic gets confused.”

            “So, burns, in this case?”

            “I believe so?”

            “All I needed,” William said, gripping his cross.

            “No!” came a voice from above, and William saw it was Yerntas. “Let the lursass burn, burn by his own-”

            “Utaan!” came another. The Chieftain stood, shoving Yerntas to the side. “Humans win.”

            William didn’t have time to get caught up in the internal politics of the crowd. “Dous min lum sanab ti! Vid min restati tu, mami and hamisal!” As he spoke, his Achdrammen drowning out much of the sounds of the arena, his thoughts pounded in his head. He risked himself to save me Lord, please allow me to return this favor. Bring him back. Prove to these creatures that God’s light sees no color, sees no body, only spirit.

            He shut his eyes and pressed both his hands, cross in his palm, into Gustav. A strong wind whipped around them, and Gustav’s body pulsated with white light for a moment.

            Then he sat up, screaming through his gag. The crowd went mad once more, screaming at the top of their lungs. Joy, panic, hate, who could say? Michael reached back and unclasped Gustav’s gag. Gustav looked around in a panic, but calmed down when he saw William, and when saw the smoking Minotaur being corralled by hobgoblin guards, he visibly relaxed, slumping back against Michael. “Oh gods, it worked. I didn’t think it would.”

            It took everything William had not to cry. “You saved my life, old friend. I… I can only hope I can repay that.”

            Gustav cocked an eyebrow and laughed a little, then coughing. Before he could speak again, the arena went silent. William looked back up to the chieftain’s seat, who had raised his sword.

            “You haff proved yousselves, even the lursass. If you die, it not by a Taesuus. So says As-Calaigius!” he repeated it again, or so William figured, to the rest of the horde. They all cheered once more.

Two guards came towards them with spears, though they weren’t pointed at them. They spoke, and Elias translated. “We get to rest now. We will be afforded…” he asked a question, and after a few more back-and-forths of hobgoblin tongue, he said “afforded better room and food. The chieftain, apparently, wants us rested.”

“Works for me,” Gustav coughed.

“Alright then,” Michael said, lifting Gustav up. “Let’s go.”

William helped Elias up, letting him lean against him. As they left, he clutch his cross tightly, and looked upwards. Although all he saw was the worn roof of the old fort, he was looking beyond that. Thank you.