Sisay’s Quest | Part One: The Heart of a Minotaur
This content was originally included in an issue of Duelist magazine. The original article can be accessed via Internet Archive here.
Main Magazine Page: The Duelist #21
Short story by Kij Johnson
Long before she met Gerrard and joined his quest, Sisay began collecting the artifacts that made up Gerrard’s mysterious Legacy. Her parents set her this task, but in the years she has captained the Weatherlight, it has become more than a filial duty to her; it has become her life.
“The Heart of a Minotaur” is the first installment in an exciting new series of short fiction in The Duelist. Written by Kij Johnson, winner of the Theodore A. Sturgeon Award, this is a story of Sisay’s youth—and of her own quest.
The volcanic dragon screamed his rage and dove at the Weatherlight, slamming his huge body into the flying ships hull. The vessel fell for a sickening instant before it stabilized. Captain Sisay fought back her own scream of rage as the dragon flashed past the immense windows of the ships bridge, bare yards past the deck.
Sisay wrestled to control the Weatherlight‘s plunging; from a comer of her eye, she saw the dragon bank and climb over a low mountain, preparing for another attack. Straining to find a landing place in the trees below them, she pushed the ship’s wheel hard forward. The dragon was going to get one more chance at them before they got into the trees’ cover—supposing they survived the crash.
Her first mate Kebitu stumbled across the deck to grab an injured crew member before the unconscious man slid overboard. “He’s killing us!” the mate yelled as he passed the bridge windows.
“I’m trying to get under the trees,” she shouted back. “Grab something! He’s diving again!” Kebitu grappled with the man’s bulk to free a hand and grab the railing.
Even forewarned, the attack was almost too fast to comprehend. The dragon hung in the air for a split second. Suddenly the Weatherlight slewed sideways as the beast rammed the hull. Sisay screamed, “No!” but it was already too late; burdened by the weight of the crew member, Kebitu lost his grip and die two men plunged over the rail.
There was a terrible wrenching noise as the Weatherlight sliced into the forest. A branch shattered one of the bridge windows and Sisay was thrown through the frame, slamming to the ground. Breathless with pain, she could only watch as the ship lurched to starboard among the broken trees, one wing-shaped sail dislocated and pointing to the sky. Perhaps satisfied he had defeated his challenger, the dragon screamed once and soared off.
We were just passing through, Sisay thought numbly. They had been on their way to the destroyed island city of Oneah, still a thousand leagues away, where she had been told she could find information about the Juju Bubble. And now, a simple coincidence—the Weatherlight‘s flight too close to a volcanic dragons territory during nesting season—might have destroyed the precious pieces of the Legacy she had already gathered.
Sisay staggered to her feet and took quick stock. Apart from a deep cut in one arm (her sword arm, unfortunately), she seemed to be all right: no broken bones, no internal damage. The Weatherlight was cradled in the broken trees. The only visible damage was the dislocated mast. Members of her crew were picking themselves up from the ground or dropping from a hatch halfway up the grounded ships hull. Sisay shouted and waved. A ragged cheer rose from the survivors.
“Captain?” Blood dripping down her angular face, the Weatherlight‘s navigator limped up. “I was afraid…” She left the sentence unfinished.
“Are you all right, Meida?” Sisay asked. “Your forehead’s cut.”
The navigator shrugged. “Its nothing. Just another scar to tell my daughters about. You?”
Sisay nodded. “Fine. What about Kebitu and Devved? They went overboard when the dragon rammed us.”
“I saw.” Meida swallowed heavily. “I’m sorry, captain. They didn’t make it, either of them.”
“I guessed.” Sisay tried to ignore the burning in her eyes. “We will grieve later. Tell me about the ship.”
Meida waved a dirty hand at one of the men, who was scanning the woods. “Tterso over there was telling me it’s total chaos below decks, but he thinks the Legacy and the supplies are all right.”
“And the Weatherlight?”
Meida shrugged again. “Who knows? I’ve never understood this ship. But my guess is that the only problem is that.” She pointed at the mast, which had broken free of its pivot-socket. “The metal’s ripped apart like overripe fruit.”
“That is bad,” Sisay said.
“Are we carrying a spare?”
“No. Were going to have to build a new socket, and that means we need a forge. And that means we’re either going to have to hike out and find one, or build one here.”
Meida cursed. “That might take months!”
“Got any better ideas?” Sisay rolled her aching shoulders.
“Captain!” Tterso ran to them, pointing back toward the woods. “Captain, someone’s coming—lots of them, this way!”
“Crew! ’Ware the woods!” Sisay shouted. The men and women jumped into readiness. Pulling free her cutlass with her off-arm, Sisay eyed the trees and asked Tterso, “Do you know who they were?”
“No, I just heard…” The man stopped as the underbrush was pushed aside and a bull-headed being paced into the clearing the Weatherlight had created.
“Oh, no,” Sisay whispered. “Minotaurs. Talruum minotaurs.” The minotaurs of the Talruum Mountains were famous across all Jamuraa—and perhaps beyond—as powerful fighters who killed all strangers. More poured from the underbrush, and then more, until there were better than forty of them.
Sisay felt rather than saw her own crew gathering behind her, injured and outnumbered, with swords and knives and makeshift weapons snatched from the wreckage. The minotaurs moved forward, fingering the crystal weapons they carried. Maybe something can be salvaged from this, she thought grimly. Raising one hand, she stepped forward.
“Greetings!” Her words rang out and stopped the minotaurs. “I am Sisay, captain of the Weatherlight.”
One minotaur, a grizzled male, said, “I am Khygot, oldest of this group, and so I speak. How did you come here?”
“Our ship was flying over the forest,” Sisay replied. “We were attacked by a dragon and forced to the ground.”
“Flying?” The minotaurs voice held disbelief edged with scorn. When Sisay did not respond, he said, “You are trespassing here.”
“I understand this,” Sisay said, willing her voice to stay calm. “We need a forge to repair our ship. We crave your assistance in this, and then we will leave.”
“No,” Khygot said in a rumble. “We have never allowed strangers in our mountains.”
“We had no choice!” Sisay said. Behind her, Meida murmured something to the other crew members, voice tense.
“Nor have we,” Khygot said slowly “It is tradition. We cannot permit strangers to leave.”
Sisay heard a crew member gasp. “These people are my responsibility,” she said coldly. “I cannot allow this.”
Khygot’s voice was as gentle as a minotaurs could be. “How will you stop us? There are two score of us, twice your groups size. We will make it quick and honorable.” He stepped forward.
“Wait!” Sisay cried over the shouts of the crew. There had to be a solution. “I have heard you are people of honor. Well then, I challenge you.”
“You challenge?” Khygot raised his voice over the muttering of the minotaurs.
“Yes,” she said through lips gone suddenly numb. “I will fight a champion of your choosing. If I win, you will grant my crew life—and you will give us a forge and supplies, and any aid we need in getting my ship aloft again. And we will tell no one that you let us go.”
Khygot shook his great horns at her. “You are half my size, little one, and I see blood on your sword arm. You are dead already, and your crew with you. Why should we take your challenge?”
Sisay bit her lip. “It would be honorable for you to at least give me this chance. This is my crew. You may kill me, but at least I will have died fighting for them.”
Khygot’s eyes drilled into her. Lifting her chin, she met them. At last he said, “Try to flee and we will kill you. We will withdraw to discuss your offer.” He made a gesture with his heavy-fingered hand and the minotaurs faded hack into the trees. Sisay and her crew were alone again.
“Are you crazy?” Meida grabbed her wounded arm, making her gasp in pain.
“I didn’t see another option. Did you?” Sisay closed her eyes.
“We can escape,” Meida said, “slip off into the mountains.”
“No!” Her voice was harsh in her ears. “We cant abandon the Legacy.”
“But they’ll kill us!”
“They’ll kill us anyway. Didn’t you hear? If we run they’ll hunt us down. At least this is a chance, however slight. If they accept it.”
Meida looked at her for a long moment. “All right then. We’ll dig out some extra weapons from the hold. You agreed to this. But if you lose, we will fight. No point in dying without taking a few of them along.”
“Hey, I might win,” Sisay said with dark humor, then, with sudden seriousness: “I have to. It’s not just you—there’s the Legacy. We have to get the Legacy out of here.”
“I understand.” Meida touched her shoulder. “What now, captain?”
“Now we wait.”
Tahngarth was one of the youngest minotaurs in Khygot’s group. He had not yet proven himself and so could not sit cross-legged in the inner circle of champions in the clearing near the stranded ship; but from his position just outside, he could hear every word of their rumbling arguments. If he half-turned away, he saw the mast of the strange ship above the trees, like a finger pointing upward.
Khygot clapped his hands for attention. “So. This tiny human has challenged us. Do we accept?”
“Of course,” Ghentoth said. Tahngarth did not like him much, bur he often represented the People in matters of honor. “But I expect she won’t take me long. I’ve seen tougher meerkats.” A roar of laughter ran through the minotaurs.
“No, Ghentoth, not you. We have young who need to prove themselves,” Khygot said, looking around. “Tahngarth. You are the age for this.”
Talmgarth paused. “No.”
The inner circle exploded in talk. “You refuse?” Khygot asked, incredulous.
“No,” Tahngarth said again. He stepped forward to the center of the circle. “Why kill them at all? We can give them the help they need and let them go.”
Ghentoth grunted. “Always thinking differently, eh, boy? Tradition says they die… they die, as simple as that. If you are not minotaur enough to take this challenge, I will.”
Tahngarth bit back a snarl. “By Torahn, I’m minotaur enough to feel there’s no honor in such a killing.”
Ghentoth jumped to his feet. “Are you implying…”
“Enough,” interrupted Khygot. “As eldest, I say this: We cannot refuse the challenge. To do so would deny who we are. If they win, we will offer the aid the human demanded. But she is small and injured. She will not win.”
Tahngarth said, “She will not need to. I will stand in place of the human Sisay in this challenge.”
“You?” Ghentoth jeered. “You’re no stronger than a human yourself.” The minotaurs laughed.
“Why, Tahngarth?” Khygot asked. “Theres no honor in fighting for humans.”
Tahngarth drew himself upright. “There’s no honor in killing her crew when they are outnumbered and lost! She knows this challenge means her death, and she throws defiance in our faces. It will be an honor to fight her challenge—she has more heart than the lot of you.”
Almost as a body, the minotaurs leapt up shouting.
“I suppose we must agree to your proposal,” Khygot said, when he could he heard again. “Very well, then. We will have the challenge here, away from the humans’ prying eyes.”
“What’s taking them so long?” Meida tied the bandage on Sisay’s arm. The shouts from the nearby clearing had ended, and now an ominous silence hung over the woods.
This wasn’t going to be good. Even moving the arm brought tears to Sisay’s eyes; she couldn’t imagine lifting her cutlass, let alone exchanging blows. She found herself hoping that they had for some reason skulked off’. But that was not the reputation of the minotaurs of the Talruum Mountains. They’d return soon enough, one way or the other.
There was a sudden bellowing from the minotaurs. “What…?” Sisay began and stopped when she heard the clash of weapons engaging.
“Who are they fighting?” Meida gasped.
“Listen!” Sisay said. “I’m going to see what’s going on. It’s probably just some preliminary to the challenge. But if they’re fighting among themselves or if someone’s attacked them, we’ll grab as much of the the Legacy as we can can and get out of here. Meida, since Kebitu is dead, you’re my new first mate. You’re in charge until I get back.”
Without waiting for a response, she loped into the woods, towards the rounds of clashing weapons and minotaur shouts.
Bleeding from a cut along one thigh and trying to ignore the shouts around him, Tahngarth circled warily. Well, he thought with the tiny corner of his brain not given over to battle, at least he’s treating me like a real challenger.
Ghentoth feinted with his sword, and Tahngarth jumped back. Carved of a single piece of tekyl crystal, the sword was stronger than any steel blade.
Ghentoth was having the best of it so tar. The two minotaurs had closed twice from their circling positions, slamming their blades together, each trying to force the other backward until the blades slid apart and it became possible to slash at the unbalanced minotaur before he steadied himself. It was the traditional style of fighting for champions in challenge, but it offered an advantage to Ghentoth, who possessed the better blade and larger size. Both times, Tahngarth had been the one to stumble, and Ghentoth had punished him with a long slash to his thigh and another along his forearm.
Ghentoth leapt at him, but this time he was ready. The swords slammed together with a shock that went through Tahngarth’s shoulders and back. Ghentoth leaned forward as the blades locked, teeth bared inches from Tahngarth’s face. The younger minotaur felt himself forced inexorably backward. Close to breaking, his sword creaked in his hand.
How did I think l could defeat him? he thought desperately. He’s stronger and more experienced; he knows all the traditions; his blade is better. What do I have that he doesn’t?
The answer came to him in his foe’s own words: always thinking differently. Now he knew what to do. It wasn’t a traditional move when Tahngarth twisted to one side. As the blades slashed to the ground, Tahngarth kicked out and swept Ghentoth’s hooves out from under him, hitting him on the chin as he fell—another new move. Momentarily stunned, Ghentoth fell to the ground. Tahngarth kicked the crystal sword from Ghentoths hand, then threw aside his own steel blade and snatched up his opponent’s sword. He pressed it against Ghentoth’s throat until die crystal tip drew a single drop of blood.
Then lifting his foe’s sword over his head, Tahngarth roared, “I have taken life’s blood from Ghentoth, and I have this to say. The human Sisay is small and hurt and without our strength or endurance, and yet she has the heart of a minotaur. I am proud to have proven myself in her challenge. By my actions, I have earned for her crew the right to aid and safe passage. And I have earned the right to he called champion by the People. Now I am Tahngarth, Talruum champion.” And lifting his head to the sky, he began the victory chant.
One by one, the minotaurs joined him. Tradition was tradition.
With the minotaurs’ voices in her ears, Sisay crept from the rocks where she had hidden to watch the battle. She returned to her crew and said nothing to them when Tahngarth limped up to her, saying, “It has been resolved. We will help you.”
Sisay smiled at him. “She’ll fly soon, and then you’ll see an amazing thing.”
“Yes,” he said, and then hesitated. “What is it like?”
She laughed. “I’ve seen things you can’t even imagine—looked down into the heart of a volcano, danced in the eye of a hurricane. I’ve even seen a minotaur fighting for humans ” She turned to him, suddenly serious. “You are not very like your kinsmen, are you? Your people believe that strange ways are dangerous ways.”
“Yes,” he said slowly.
“But you…” she touched his arm, “…you are different. So perhaps you’ll listen when I say this to you: join us on the Weatherlight.”
Tahngarth looked at her for a long moment, his breath coming hard between his teeth. “Yes,” he said, and his heart rose on the wings of the Weatherlight.
Next, Sisay and Tahngarth enter the great library in the destroyed city of Oneah.
[Part Two]