Warriors [4] Theros Ironfield by Don Perrin Page A

slave taught me honor today, and he saved my life. It is wrong for a slave to teach a minotaur honor and so you should no longer be a slave. What is your name, human?”
    “I am Theros, slave to—”
    Huluk interrupted. “You are Theros, a free human currently in the employ of the mighty Third Army of the Minotaur Supreme Circle. Or should I say, you
are
the mighty Third Army of the Minotaur Supreme Circle.”
    Theros was hesitant. “Do you mean it, sir? I am free?”
    “You are free, Theros, and you are to be commended for your bravery and honor. Now, do I hear the sound of running water?”
    Theros and Nevek hoisted the minotaur officer between the two of them, and Theros led them to his hiding spot. The sun was beginning to fall into the hills beyond the forest, casting long shadows.
    They set Huluk down on the moss-covered side of the river. He started to peel off his armor and coverings, but the pain was too great. Nevek came over to help. The blood had encrusted around Huluk’s wound, and continued to seep out.
    Together, the two minotaurs waded into the water. Nevek helped Huluk wash the minor wounds, then they did their best with the more serious wound. The slow-moving water grew red with the washing away of blood.
    Theros remained on the river shore. He was searching for a way to start a fire. Without one this night, Huluk might die. Theros needed Huluk to go back to the coastal village to let authorities know that he, a senior officer in the military, had released Theros from servitude.
    Theros couldn’t believe it. He was free. He thought heshould be happy over this, was surprised to find out he wasn’t. What did freedom mean to the young man? It meant no one would take care of him anymore. No one would see to it that he was fed, clothed, had a bed at night. He was on his own. He shook his head.
    There was work to be done. Nevek had brought two empty wineskins, a smoked hindquarter of pork meat, a hunting knife and a small tinderbox. The forest floor was littered with twigs and dried branches. Hran had taught Theros how to make a hearth that did not smoke much, and he used the lore to build his fire.
    Dried leaves served as the kindling. Using the tinderbox, he started a small fire. Twigs, then small branches followed, until he had a little fire going. They had nothing to boil water in. There were wild onions and a few mushrooms around. They could have used the pork with the fungus and vegetables to make a small stew, but there was no pot.
    Huluk and Nevek clambered out of the cool water and onto the shore. “How is the commander doing?” Theros asked.
    Huluk collapsed beside the fire. He closed his eyes and he was shivering.
    Nevek said in a low voice. “He is not well. There must be some infection. He may not live through the night.”
    “Can’t we do something? Cauterize the wound or something?” Theros asked.
    Nevek looked dubious. “I know that’s what we should do, but I have no idea how to do it. I do not have the experience.”
    “When I was on board the ship, the second mate sometimes had to do it if there was a wounded warrior or injured slave,” Theros said. “All you do is heat a piece of metal until it is white-hot. Then you stick it in the wound. It burns the area around the wound, but kills the infection and closes the hole. I can get the fire hot enough and we can use your knife. I can’t do the surgery, though. I wouldn’t be able to hold him down when he starts to thrash. You could, though.”
    Nevek’s eyes widened. “You want me to stick a searinghot knife into Huluk’s buttocks? He would kill me with his bare hands alone!”
    “He’ll be dead if you don’t.”
    Nevek nodded. It had to be done. The sky was turning a deep shade of red. The lower depths of the forest were becoming obscured in darkness. Night and its chill would soon be on them.
    Theros dug a shallow pit with the hunting knife. He patted down the sides to make it smooth, then crawled to the stream’s edge