29. In the Garden of Evil
“So what?” Steel Nerves demanded. “So we’ve got some neighbors who have the same bright idea we’ve got. Big deal and big surprise. There’s plenty of space to go around, and can you blame any creature for wanting to take a break here?”
Biala’s eyes narrowed. “Did you forget already? The free market bazaar is still ongoing for much of this region. Right now, there should not be anyone this far out here.”
A lump formed and could be seen traveling down Tariq’s throat as he swallowed and nervously rubbed the front of his neck. “Do, do you think they might be bandits?”
“It is a certain possibility. Raiders do tend to hide deep within the Anauhock Desert during events like the free market bazaar, when the towns are either too empty to bother looting or so populated that it is not worth the risk,” Biala Diyn said grimly. He reached for the crossbow strapped to his side. “I am not seeing any movement. It does not appear that they have noticed us yet. If we were to attack now, we could catch them by surprise.”
An excited and almost childlike grin spread across Steel Nerve’s face as his own hand went down and gripped the handle of his club. “Finally. I’ve been itching for some action. Alright, let’s do this.”
“Wait,” Rarity interjected, turning away from the tent and the carts. “We shouldn’t just jump to conclusions, especially to ones that will end in violence. They could be bandits, yes, but what if they’re just travelers like us? I mean, surely we can’t be the only creatures around here who have more important matters than the bazaar?”
“They could also be settlers, perhaps,” proposed Alharir as the others digested Rarity’s words. She gestured to the lake and the surrounding vegetation. “I could see trying to set up a small village or a trading outpost here, and there would not be much competition to worry about at this time.”
Biala Diyn frowned, but he slowly eased his hold around his weapon. “It is unlikely, but I cannot say definitively that it is impossible.”
The minotaur beside him grumbled for a bit before lowering the club he was holding up. “Then what do we do? I don’t want to hurt anyone that doesn’t deserve it.”
“Should we leave and find some place else to stay?”
Biala rejected Alharir’s suggestion with a shake of his head. “With the sun coming up, we would not get very far, and that could put us in a worse position if they end up being hostile and choose to chase after us.”
“What if we just stay right here and make camp as planned?” asked Rarity. “They don’t seem to have seen us, right? Maybe they’ll leave without ever knowing we were here. And if we did draw their attention and if, worst case scenario, they were to decide to attack us, we’d be able to see them coming and prepare ourselves.”
“There is a good amount of distance between us and them,” Tariq pointed out as he swept the opposite side of the lake with his spyglass. “We would have some time to ready our defenses if it came to that.”
“It would mean giving the initiative up to a potential enemy and losing our only advantage,” Biala said with another short shake of his head as he continued to frown. He motioned to Tariq who surrendered the telescope over to him. “The sun will soon be up, and then it will only be a matter of time before we are seen. Depending on their numbers, they could potentially come at us from both sides and surround us.”
“Alright, then what should we do?” Steel all but exploded. The minotaur’s hands flew up to and over his mouth as every other creature turned to glare at him. The world went still for a breathless moment that ended minutes later with a chorus of relieved sighs when nothing resulted from Steel Nerve’s blunder. “Look,” he continued with significantly less volume, “all you’ve done so far is put down everyone else’s ideas. Fine. So what’s your great plan? Because if you don’t got one, I’m just going to walk over to them and ask them all nice and plainly if they‘re looking for a fight.“
His glare locked with Biala Diyn’s stony stare. Their eyes clashed as each dared the other to avert their gaze or blink, to show any sign of weakness in an epic optic struggle that lasted up until Rarity cleared her throat, causing them both to turn to her. “We really should decide on what we’re going to do and soon,” she whispered, and beside her, Alharir and Tariq nodded in agreement as they sent anxious glances toward the quiet camp across from them. “Honestly,” Rarity added, sighing, “we have enough on our plate already. We don’t have time right now to deal with this petty rivalry between the two of you.”
“He started it,” mumbled Steel Nerves.
That got him another glare from Biala who eventually sighed and nodded. “We do need to act, yes, but as we have already discussed, there are still too many unknowns. I propose that we scout out the area to determine who these creatures are first. If they are indeed peaceful travelers or settlers or anything similar, then we can reveal ourselves to them without worry. Otherwise, well.” He rubbed his hooves together. “We will already be in a good position to deal with them accordingly.”
“Wait, hold on,” Steel said, raising a hand. “You, want us, to?”
“To stealth, yes,” Biala let out in an exasperated hiss. “Or sneak or however you understand moving around without being detected.“
“Uh.” Steel gestured down to himself in all of his natural minotaur largeness. “I’m not exactly made for sneaking, you know.”
“Yes, which is why you will be behind the first line,” Biala instructed. “You should be fine in the back as long as you stay low to the ground with your head down and keep some distance between you and the camp. Just be sure that if we do end up having to fight, you are still close enough to be able to join us quickly.”
“So far enough to not be seen,” Steel began, his expression warped in confusion, “but close enough to get into a fight?”
“Just keep within dashing distance of me, alright?”
Steel Nerves nodded. “Okay, yeah. I can do that.”
“And the rest of us?”
Biala looked to his fellow equines with a thoughtful frown, first to Alharir who had asked the question, then to Tariq and finally to Rarity. “Who here has a weapon?”
Rarity raised her hoof while Tariq shifted so that the scimitar he wore on his side was on display. Alharir, however, just shook her head. Biala released a long and deep exhale before taking his crossbow and holding it out to the unarmed mare. “Do you know how to use this?” he asked, and when Alharir nodded, he said, “Then take this and these bolts and stay behind us. Do what you can, but avoid drawing attention to yourself, especially if you see that there are archers among the enemy.”
“Ser Biala Diyn, I do not, I mean, would it not be better if, perhaps Alharir should stay with the wagon.”
Tariq shrunk back under the glare of his partner. “Do not even dare suggest that I stay back where it is safe while everyone else here puts themselves in harm’s way,” the mare said. “Do not forget, dear husband of mine, that your life is no longer yours to risk away so easily.”
“Right now, with how little we know, we may need all the support we can get,” Biala told Tariq, giving him a stern but sympathetic look. “In any case, Madam Alharir will be safer with us, where we will all be better able to protect one another.”
Tariq, with his lips already parting, looked ready to argue, but all that came out of his mouth was a reluctant sigh as he saw reason. “Alright, I understand,” he said, giving in.
“Good.” Biala turned to Rarity. “You said you were armed, yes?”
Rarity reached into her cloak and showed him the dagger she had bought in Cowdim-La.
“And you know how to use that?”
“I’ve had some practice,” she said. Admittedly, it had been some time since her lessons with Sir Gustford, but she could still recall them clearly. Now there was just the not-so-simple matter of whether she’d be able to put that knowledge to practical use, should it come to it.
“Good. You will be with Madam Alharir in the back and guard her from any foes that get too close. Tariq and I will be up in the very front, and you,” Biala said, looking to Steel Nerves, “will be between us and them, and remember to make sure that you are—“
“Yeah, yeah, within dashing distance of you. Got it.” The minotaur was quaking in anticipation. “Come on. Let’s go, let’s go.”
“Alright. Does every creature else understand what they are doing?” Biala gave the group a couple of seconds to nod. “Everyone ready then? Good. Then let us—“
“Wait.”
Even Tariq himself seemed surprised by his own sudden interruption. That surprise turned to embarrassment as the rest of the group waited for him to continue and the silence stretched on until it became awkward. “What is it?” Biala finally prompted, which caused Tariq to wince and squirm.
“I am, I am sorry. I did not mean, I meant, it is—“ The tall stallion gulped down a breath to steady himself, with mixed results. “I was wondering, was hoping, please, would it be possible if—“
“Come on, hurry up and spit it out!” demanded Steel Nerves impatiently, which got him another round of glares and some hushing.
Tariq took another breath. “Would it be possible if I were the one to stay back and protect Alharir?”
Almost immediately after the words left his lips, he lowered his gaze to the ground as if in shameful recognition of how self-indulgent and silly his request had been. Or maybe it was to avoid the odd mix of looks of confusion, annoyance, and pity his companions were giving him.
“Oh, Tariq,” Alharir whispered, and even with her little head shake and her tired and frustrated tone, it was still obvious by her expression and the emotional lift in her voice that the act had touched her.
The look Biala was shooting at Tariq was far less tender. “Your sword would be better put to use on the frontline. Or is it that you lack confidence in your abilities?”
“It’s not, I mean, I am not—“ Tariq deflated back. “It is nothing. I understand. We may continue.”
“Actually, I don’t mind switching places with Tariq.”
Now it was Rarity’s turn to have all eyes on her. “If Tariq wants to be the one to protect his wife, well, I can go up with you instead,” she said to Biala. “It might even be better this way. With my relative size, wouldn’t it be easier for me to scout ahead without being detected?”
“Are you sure?” Biala asked as he alternated his sideways glance between her and Tariq. “You are fine with this decision?”
“I am,” Rarity declared with an air of absolute calmness even as the heightened rate of her heart’s beating betrayed the ongoing conflict within herself. Had Tariq looked any less pitiful or if she had just missed the soft little smile Alharir had on when she was looking at her husband, the reasonable section of Rarity’s brain would have won and have kept her quiet and relatively safe with Alharir in the back, as far from the possible melee and potential danger as allowed. Well, what was said was said, and despite that part of her continuing to express its frustrations over her poorly timed and ill placed romanticism, Rarity had no intentions of rescinding her offer, especially not after seeing the couple silently mouth their heartfelt appreciations to her.
“Very well then,” Biala finally conceded. “Madam Rarity, you are with me. If we do have to fight, just, focus on keeping yourself safe and on my instructions.” He gave the group one last look, then motioned forward, toward the camp on the other side of the lake. “Everyone, on me and keep quiet.”
They started to creep forward, with Biala Diyn leading the way and Rarity only a step or two behind him. Progress was slow as they struggled to keep the rustling of the grass they were crawling through to a minimum, and every now and again Biala would hold up a hoof and they would all come to a halt and wait with their breaths held for Biala to make sure the area was clear before continuing on. A couple of times, Biala made the every creature but Rarity and himself pause in order to add a few extra feet between them and the huddle mass of muscle with horns peeking out of the grass. Eventually and in spite of them going at the pace of a tired tortoise, more of the tent hidden beneath the palms could be seen along with a pair of figures standing guard.
Biala’s expression soured as he lowered the spyglass and gave it over to Rarity so that she could also better examine the beings before them. Both wore tan linens wrappings over their heads and bodies, which hid most of their features save for their ears, tails, and differing body structures. One was clearly equine, tall like Biala and the others native to this region, while the other stood upright one their hind legs, and their pointed ears and that long, lanky, twitchy tail suggested them to be cat folk. A large broad bladed knife was attached to the feline, tied to a belt of several smaller knives around their waist, and the horse next to them leaned against the shaft of a spear with a cruelly barbed head, their own head bobbing up and down as they fell in and out of sleep.
Biala nudged the telescope toward the interior of the camp, and Rarity‘s blood chilled and its flow still at the scene she saw. There were several more similarly dressed horses and cat folks and even a large diamond dog lazing about, most of whom were as armed as the initial sentries or at least had their weapons within reach. Her concern, however, was more directed at a collection of mares and foals huddling against one another in the very center, within a ring of carts. Unlike the first inhabitants of this camp they had spotted who were mostly covered from head to hoof, the poor beings here were dressed in torn rags or nothing at all beyond the collars on their necks and the shackles and chains around their leg. Exposed to the elements, the skin beneath their coats blistered and flaked from painful sunburns and horrible dryness. Long red marks marred the backs of many, and it didn’t take Rarity long to notice the coiled whips worn by the guards closest to the ring and put two and two together.
Worst of all might have been the looks on their faces. A few of the younger ones still cried openly, and fear could be seen in their eyes, but the red and puffy eyes of the adults were dull and dead, and their expressions were set to that of defeated acceptance.
“Slavers.” Biala Diyn all but spat the word out in disgust as Rarity tore herself away from the sight. “We have no chance for a peaceful resolution here,” he whispered, slowly removing his sword from his side. “Ready?”
Her heart pounding against her ribs, Rarity nodded, and Biala raised his weapon, letting the light of the sun gleam against the side of the blade. He brought it down, and immediately after, he and Rarity could hear rustling coming from behind them. The rustling became heavy stomping and snorting, and then there was a mighty war cry as Steel Nerve leapt right over Rarity and Biala in a reckless charge toward the two guards up in front.
The equine shook awake at Steel’s roar, and their spear dropped to the ground. The cat however recovered quickly from their surprise and immediately shouted out a warning as they reached for their blade. Unfortunately for them, Biala Diyn was quicker, and by the time the cat had finished drawing their knife, Biala had gotten out of his hiding place and up to them with his scimitar swinging. The curved blade slashed across the feline’s chest, cutting through their clothes and shredding them into ribbon. Biala’s strike left a large red gash on the cat’s front that extended from shoulder to hip. The cat let out a gargled gasp as their cries were silenced, and they stumbled back a couple of steps from Biala before collapsing.
The feline’s ally was still crouched over fumbling for their spear when Rarity arrived with her dagger out and, against the good instruction of all loving mothers including her own, pointed at the larger equine. “Don’t move!” she ordered, glaring into her opponent’s widened eyes. Those eyes darted to the spear. “I said don’t move!” exclaimed Rarity, slamming her free front hoof on the wooden pole. “Don’t you even think of—“
To Princess Shmarity. Message from Gustford. Been days. Should‘ve heard from you by now. Got worried, decided to risk it and contact you. Everything alright?
The voice that appeared in Rarity’s head was not hers nor did it belong to any creature she recognized. It certainly wasn’t Gustford’s voice despite what was said. Before she could ponder the contents of the mysterious message or its source further, the horse at her feet snarled and lunged toward her. Reacting quickly, Rarity swung, but the motion was panicked, wild, and unaimed. Her target easily ducked under the blade, and they continued forward, slamming a shoulder into her and roughly shoving her back a bit. It wasn’t enough to deal any real harm to Rarity, not even to leave a small bruise, but it gave her opponent the time and space they needed to scoop up their weapon and thrust it at her.
Rarity tried to back away, but the spear’s hooked tip was flying toward her too quickly for her to get out of its way. Almost instinctively, her forelegs rose over her most vital areas as she braced herself for the inevitable strike.
She felt the blow against her leg, but it hardly hurt anymore than the push and was nowhere near the excruciating, searing pain she had expected. Hit with a mix of confusion and relief, Rarity opened her eyes and found the larger equine struggling to push the spear further forward. She looked down to see the spearhead pressing against her front limb, its passage into her flesh blocked by the anklet she was wearing. Despite its dull, unpolished state, the bronze surface still seemed to shine brightly in the sunlight, almost as if emitting its own glow.
Her eyes met with those of her opponent, but the shared moment of incredulous amazement lasted only briefly as Steel Nerves’s club flew into view and smashed itself into the guard’s covered face. The force of the blow flung the horse far away from Rarity and sent them soaring into the lake.
“Yeah!” Steel roared, pumping his arm in the air. He looked down to Rarity. “Hey, you alright?”
Rarity rubbed her leg. The soreness where the spear had struck was already fading. “Yes. I’m—“
To Princess Shmarity. Message from Gustford. Been days. Should‘ve heard from you by now. Got worried, decided to risk it and contact you. Everything alright?
The voice rang out again, and this time it left an annoying, constant hum that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard Rarity shook her head. And like that, message’s meaning, though the wording had been silted and awkward, was made clear. It wanted a response, for her to answer the presented question.
If Sir Gustford is there, please let him know that I am doing, for the most part, fine. There have been some complications getting to
Steel placed a hand on Rarity’s shoulder and shook her none too gently. “Hey, come on! You need to sit this out or something?”
The humming stopped, and now all she was hearing were the sounds of battle. “No. No, I’m fine,” Rarity quickly assured. “I just, thought I heard something.”
“Well okay then.” The minotaur rested his club against his shoulder and looked into the camp where Biala Diyn was currently engaged with three separate combatants while a fourth struggled nearby against sparkling emerald vines that had seemingly sprouted out of the surrounding grass. “Come on, let’s get back to it then. Can’t let him have all the fun.”
Shouting loudly, Steel Nerves rushed into the fray and made his presence known with an overhead strike to the top of the diamond dog’s skull. The blow buried the dog’s head deep into the dirt, and after a couple of seconds of the dog struggling to free themself from the earth’s hold, the rest of the body slumped over. Rarity hurried over as well, getting the attention of another pole arm wielding equine. The serrated blade went right over her shoulder, missing it by mere inches and leaving the spear’s owner open to Biala’s attack. Radiant green flames appeared from Biala’s sword as it sliced into the neck of its target, and the slaver crumpled at Rarity’s hooves with their closed eyelids marked with bold black Xs.
A pained yell caused both Rarity and Biala to turn to Steel. A pair of daggers had found their way deep into the minotaur’s side, and the feline who put them there grinned with an infuriating arrogance as they deftly dodged the club Steel had swung at them in retaliation. That smug smile stayed on their face even as a metal bolt suddenly flew by and burrowed into the cat’s exposed forehead, knocking them down and onto their back, spread-eagle.
“I’m alright, I’m alright,” Steel Nerves declared, though the way he was wheezing and wincing wasn’t all that convincing. “Just, ugh.” He yanked the blades out of him and gasped. “Just give me a second, to catch my breath.”
“Take all the time you need.” Biala walked over to the last remaining enemy, the one still trapped in the vines. The others had all scattered, leaving their belongings, their captives, and their fallen comrades behind. Rarity saw that as Biala walked, he moved with a slight limp, and there was a small red mark on the stallion’s thigh. “We are done here.”
He lifted his sword as the restrained slaver weakly held up a hoof. “No, please, wait—“
The blade came down. The raised hoof dropped. The vines shimmered then vanished as Biala put away his weapon and waved over Alharir and Tariq in the distance to join the rest of them.
“Was that, did you need to,” Rarity began, but she trailed off when Biala turned to her with a cold, calculative look on his face.
“Your compassion is misplaced.” He jabbed a hoof down at his most recent victim. “They made their choice, to live a life of evil. They deserved a no better fate than this.”
She wasn’t sure she agreed with Biala here, at least not entirely, but Rarity felt it better not to argue. She couldn’t exactly say she was feeling sorry for a gang of thugs that went around making creatures into slaves, and in all honesty any sympathy Rarity had experienced toward their surrendering foe was fading before the darkly comical fashion the lifeless body presented itself; with those dark Xs on their eyes and their tongue sticking out of their mouth, it was a little difficult to take seriously.
“So, uh, what do about them?” Steel asked, pointing to those in chains. “Are we just going to let them go or something?”
Biala and Rarity shared an uneasy look. “What are you trying to say?” Biala said slowly, his hoof going back to the hilt of his scimitar.
“I mean, do we take these folks with us to the schools of magic or bring them to the nearest town or something?” Steel asked. “Or are we just going to set them free and leave them be and just let them figure out how to get out of this desert themselves? Because, well, just look at them.” He motioned to the mares and foals corralled within the circle of wagons. “They don’t really look like they’ve got much of a chance on their own.”
“That is something we will have to discuss together as a group and with them,” Biala said with a nod toward the captives after taking a moment to consider. “For now, we should remove their shackles and let them know that they are safe.”
“Right, got it.” Steel motioned to Rarity, and the two started toward the crudely improvised enclosure while Biala turned to address Alharir and Tariq. At Steel Nerves and Rarity’s approach, those inside gasped and shuffled as quickly as their chains would allow to the edge farthest away. Now it was Steel and Rarity’s turn to put on the a face of confusion and discomfort. Steel tried to make his way around the fence of wagons, but once again, the captives shifted and scurried away from him.
“Whoa, hey! What the heck’s the problem with you lot?” he exclaimed. “You afraid of something? Look, here, give me second.” Steel Nerves marched over to one of the vanquished villains on the ground, the cat with the bolt in their forehead, and dragged them back to the carts. “Alright, see? No need to be scared, there’s no one left to hurt you,” he said, lifting the body up and shaking it for all to see. “Well, he definitely can’t anymore, anyways.”
Biala threw his head back and groaned as the ones they were trying to rescue filled the air with screams of horror. “Stop that foolishness. Make yourself useful and go see what they were keeping in the tent,” he ordered Steel before returning to Alharir and sighing. “Please help Madam Rarity calm them down. They might be more comfortable around the two of you.”
Alharir nodded, and she walked over to Rarity’s side. Steel Nerves just shrugged and grumbled, “Fine, fine,” before dropping the body into the ring and inciting more screams as hooves were thrown over the eyes on the younger prisoners to shield them from the sight. While the two mares shot dirty looks at the passing minotaur and did their best to soothe the fearful crowd before them with soft assurances of safety and the warmest, most gentle of smiles, Steel stomped towards the tent by the palm trees. Continuing to grumble as he brushed aside the flap over the entrance, he peeked his head inside only to immediately reel back as a giant fist attached to an equally massive and muscular arm came out to greet him.
The rest of the creature soon stepped out of the tent. There, standing before them with his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face, was a minotaur bull at least a head or two taller than Steel and with an appropriately broad body to match, making him easily the biggest minotaur Rarity had ever seen. A dozen scars decorated his bare pectorals while thick rings of gold adorned his wrists and neck, and around that tree trunk of a neck he also had a string of fangs, molars, and curved horns. One of the minotaur’s own horns had been broken off, and his head seemed to tilt slightly from the unbalanced weight. He wore a fur kilt that had the maned head of a lion right in the center of his waist.
“I said I didn’t want to be bothered,” he huffed and yawned. “What’s going on h—“
The minotaur froze as he slowly came to terms with the scene before him. Rarity could almost see the gears in his lopsided head turn as he looked from Steel Nerves still rolling in the grass, clutching his bruised face, to the shaking captives staring at him fearfully to Rarity and the rest of the unfamiliar equines to the unmoving bodies of his crew and the abandoned equipment of those that fled. His expression of confusion turned to one of anger, and he lowered his head and charged forward, letting out an enraged bellow that caused some within the confines of the carts to faint.
Steel Nerves had gotten up to a knee, but the larger bull put him back down with a backhanded strike across the face as he passed. Biala shouted out a warning and went for his sword, but the minotaur got to him first. His horn gored through Biala’s shoulder, and with a toss of his head, the minotaur flung the pierced stallion into the carts.
His triumphant growl was interrupted as Tariq swung and brought the sharp edge of his scimitar to the minotaur’s thigh. The cut was a shallow one, however, and the massive brute looked down at Tariq and grinned. “Tickles,” he snorted and raised a meaty fist.
The sharp twang of a released bowstring caused the minotaur’s ears to flick and his head to turn, and he lowered his arm just in time to knock away Alharir’s bolt with his golden wrist rings. His eyes widened and his face twisted into a snarl as he saw the mare who had fired upon him and was currently struggling to reload the borrowed crossbow. With another roar and his horn pointed out, he started toward her and Rarity who stepped up and now stood in front of Alharir, her dagger at the ready as she did her best to keep her hold on it tight and steady.
Tariq struck again as the minotaur started to move away, and this time, his blade left a more substantial wound, one enough to cause the minotaur to stop and wince and yelp and switch his attention away from the two mares and back to his original target. Tariq had half a second to relish in the accomplishment before the minotaur‘s fist slammed him into the ground and all but burying his body beneath those giant knuckles.
Alharir’s scream filled the air, drowning out all other sources of sound, and before Rarity could even think of holding the mare back, Alharir had already rushed past her, hurrying toward the motionless, broken body of her husband. Rarity ran after Alharir, but it was too late to stop her from reaching the Tariq-shaped ditch at the minotaur’s cloven feet. Her mind raced for some sort of solution as the distance between Alharir and Tariq, and the sneering bull standing over the both of them quickly shrunk. She had to wonder, all of the advice she had gotten from Gustford had been based against opponents of her own or similar size, would any of his recommended weak points apply to an enemy as large as the one right before her?
The minotaur pulled back to make another devastating punch. There was no more time to plan, no time to think. Rarity broke into a mad sprint, and at the last second she leapt forward, using her propulsion to plunge her dagger deep into the minotaur’s flesh. Or at least, that had been her intent, but whether it was due to poor aim or the blade’s curved tip which made it less suited for stabbing or just plain misfortune, Rarity’s dagger had gotten stuck in the minotaur’s thick kilt and failed to even reach his skin. Her spirits sunk as gravity finished taking hold of her and dragged her crashing to the ground, weaponless.
A shadow fell over Rarity as she shook herself off. “Huh. A bit on the small side, but your pretty little face might be worth something,” she heard the minotaur boom. There he stood, leering down at her with one hand holding Alharir in place by her headscarf and the other cracking and popping as it clenched. “I’ll try not to leave anything too visible.”
Suddenly, a set of arms appeared around the minotaur’s throat, and he released Alharir and staggered forward, forcing Rarity to roll out of the way of his hoof. “Hey! Did you miss me?” shouted Steel Nerves into the larger bull’s ear as he clung to him. “I’m not done yet. Ha!”
Their foe’s entire body shook. His muscles tensed to the point where veins were visible, his breathing quickened and became more forceful with gusts of hot air being expelled from his nostrils at every exhale, and the whites of his eyes were beginning to fill with red. “Whoa!” Steel yelled out, and he held on for dear life as the bigger of the two minotaurs thrashed about wildly.
As Rarity got back onto her feet, a tan blur sped past through the corner of her eye. Biala Diyn stopped in front of the minotaur and swung his blade into the minotaur’s leg, slicing through it and bringing the larger creature to a kneel. With the minotaur down on his knee and there being a break in his attempts to shake off Steel, Steel solidified his hold around the slaver’s neck. As the minotaur kneeling before him started to gasped and choke, Steel Nerves’s arms having constricted his windpipe, Biala took a deep breath and raised his sword over his head. Its blade became ablaze with green fire. “Smite evil!” Biala cried out, and he swung.
The minotaur slammed his hands together over the burning blade, stopping it from continuing on its path to his chest. Biala pressed forward, but the sword refused to move even as the minotaur’s hands could be heard sizzling and his face turned twisted with agonizing pain and unbridled hatred. Spittle flew from the minotaur’s lips as he slowly rose and started to push Biala back.
From her cloak, Rarity pulled out her other dagger and desperately threw herself again at the implacable monster. The heavy obsidian blade found its target, sinking almost to the hilt into the minotaur’s hock and bringing him back down. The minotaur’s screams swelled even louder as Rarity yanked the dagger out of him.
Those massive hands separated, and Biala’s fiery sword was free to continue downward. It cleaved through the minotaur, slashing a huge wound into his chest and leaving behind a gash in his side from where the blade exited. The flames went out, and Biala, his breathing labored, seemed to struggle to hold up his sword. He, the rest of the group that was still standing, and a few of the wide eyed captives who were brave enough to approach the carts closest to the battle stared at the minotaur, watching and waiting for his next move.
The minotaur was still for the next second, the longest second, before he shuddered, and out of his mouth came a strangled cough. His arms dropped to his sides, and the rest of his body quickly followed as it landed face down on the ground with a hard thud, like a tree felled by a lumberjack’s axe.
Those in the pen started to whisper excitedly amongst themselves as Rarity and the rest of the group breathed out in relief and exhaustion. Steel Nerves climbed up onto his feet and stomped down on the back of the bigger minotaur while making a sweeping gesture with his arms and hands. Rarity watched as he then turned to and pointed a finger at Biala Diyn who was, with Alharir, assisting Tariq back up and looking him over for any major injuries.
“Next time,” Steel said between heavy breaths, “you check the tent.”