Tired Of Death

Dreth, undaunted, raised his sword. "We're on the same side. Stand back and let us pass and I will let you live."

"Ha!" Steam snorted from the monster bulls massive nostrils. "Such is impossible! It iiiis you who must yield! Fleeee now and I will beee merciful!"

"Sorry, no can do," Dreth said. 

"Er, Fleeee! Fleee! I won't tell you again." The monster remained where it was, blocking the path.

"There's something not quite right here," Emerald said, frowning.

Dreth glared at the creature. "Step forth and do battle!" he demanded.

"Well… okay. Hold on a minute." 

The bull grunted strangely for a moment, and raised a leg slowly. And then stopped, leg still held high.

"Oh oh."

They watched as the guardian tilted to one side and, like a felled tree, slowly toppled over, landing with a deafening crash on the floor in front of them.

"Hey! You aren't a real Minotaur," said Percy, rapping the head. "This is made from wood!"

"Who are you?" Dreth said. "What are you? Speak!"

"Please, I'm just doing what I was told, but the mechanism's rusty see? It can't walk any more. No one's done maintenance in decades, it's all seized up." The voice lacked the former booming quality it had previously had.

Dreth frowned. "What do you mean?" 

"The real Minotaur's sick just now, I'm just the stand in," the prone 'monster' complained. He paused for a second, and then added: "Please don't kill me."

"Come out of there!" Tybalt said. "Let's see you."

There was some grunting, and the head popped off, to reveal a small green goblin in a loincloth. He was sitting in a small hollow in the c.h.e.s.t. In front of him were several levers and switches. 

The goblin looked at them miserably. "Hello," it said. "I don't suppose any of you are any good at metallurgy? I think the main driveshaft's come loose."

"What is this thing?" Emerald said.

"It's the stand-in," the goblin said, wriggling free. "Minotaur are hard to get, but what else can you have in a maze? Got to be a Minotaur, it's tradition see?"

"So do you work for the Overlord?" Dreth asked.

"Me? Yes. Five years of loyal servitude under the belt. Spotless record." It paused and looked at the fallen Minotaur shell behind him. "Well, up until now." 

"I see," Dreth said. "In that case, maybe you can help us out." He smiled.

~ * ~

Greg stood upright at his post, although this wasn't very upright what with him being a rather hunchbacked troll. Still, he took his job seriously. After all, it was an honour to be the one chosen to guard the Overlord's quarters. 

He looked down a moment and idly swung his giant club. 

After a little while he lifted one leg slightly and let loose a fart that would probably be more effective at keeping intruders away than he was. Next he spent a while rooting out and examining the contents of his nose.

Time passed. 

The problem with guarding the Overlords' quarters was, well, no one was stupid enough to want to come here, let along force their way into the place. 

"This way."

A voice jerked Greg out of his daydream, dragging his attention back to the passage ahead that led up to the entrance he was guarding.

"Who goes there?" he asked in a voice of gravel. 

A motley group approached. Carrying a body were four humans dressed in guard uniforms. Two of them looked rather unwell to Greg, though he wasn't very good on humans so it could have been normal for all he knew. A short wizard was leading the procession, an aura of self importance surrounded him, as was usually the case with wizards. He seemed to have a long gangly apprentice with him. Bringing up the rear were three witches, who were talking in low voices amongst themselves. 

The wizard stopped in front of the troll and looked up. "Make way there!" he commanded.

"Er, whu?" Greg said intelligently, peering at the body.

"I said…" the wizard slammed his staff on the ground, causing sparks. "Open the door."

"Who are you?" Greg asked, rather nervously. One of his clan brothers had argued with a wizard once, and he was now probably regretting it. Greg didn't know for sure, as the c.o.c.kroach he'd been turned into had scuttled off and never been seen again.

"We have an important item for The Overlord," the wizard replied.

Greg stepped around the small figure and examined the dead body. It was thin and tall and dressed in dark robes. An impressive black sword, unsheathed, was clasped ceremonially in long thin fingers.

"No one tell Greg you come," Greg said, in his politest tones. "You bugger off now." He poked the corpse with one finger.

"Oh, this is stupid." The supposedly dead man opened his eyes and stood up. 

There was a blur of movement and Greg felt a sharp pain in his neck. He stood there and tried to bring his club up, but his body wasn't responding to commands any more He attempted to shout, but that didn't happen either. He stared to panic as he realized he couldn't breath. Things began to lose colour

Slowly he toppled over, hitting the ground with a crash. The world seemed to turn over and over, and as things started to fade from sight, his head finally came to rest facing his own body. Blood pumped from the neck onto the floor, creating a small lake.

Greg died.

~ * ~

"Well, that wasn't very subtle now, was it?" Percy said, folding his arms. "I thought we were going to pretend you were dead and present you to the Overlord so you could leap up and surprise him?"

"It got us this far didn't it?" Dreth said, wiping his sword on the corpse. "That and your guard uniforms. The Overlord probably wouldn't fall for it anyway."

"Sprat, you can come on out now," Cuthbert called out. 

Sprat, with the minotaur-operator goblin that had helped them acquire the uniforms, stepped out from around the corner.

"Hey, you killed Greg," the goblin said. He smiled. "Good. I never liked him much."

"Are we ready then?" asked Dreth.

"No," said Percy.

"Oh yes, we've got a good spell all prepared," said Rose, rubbing her hands together. "He'll be sorry he ever slighted our mistress."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" asked Emerald.

"No," replied Dreth. "But why start now?"

He pushed on the door and stepped through into the Overlord's lair. The others shuffled after him.

"Impressive," said Percy, after a few moments of examining the surroundings.

They were in a large stone hall. Banners and trophies lined the walls, ranging from human heads to full dragon skins. A dark carpet led up to a dais, upon which was a tall throne made of bone. On either side of the seat, set in the wall behind, was a wooden door.

The throne wasn't currently being used. In front of the dais someone had placed a desk and some chairs. Sitting at the desk was a small man wearing half moon glasses. He was slightly bald on top, a fact he'd tried to mask with a comb-over, and was wearing an unimpressive white shirt that would have benefited from a good iron. There was a slight stain down the front, as if he'd spilled breakfast on it.

"Come in, come in," the man said, standing up and waving his arm enthusiastically. "I've been expecting you."

"You have?" asked Dreth, stepping forward warily. 

"Of course, do you think I didn't know what happened in my own domain? It's been quite entertaining watching your progress. I might write a book about it one day."

"You are The Overlord?" Tybalt asked.

"Yes indeed. Master of all I survey, or else." He beamed at them. "And I see you've brought a representative from dearest Hilda and Hetty. How are the sisters?"

"She curses your bones every day," hissed Sissy.

"Excellent, excellent," The Overlord rubbed his hands together. 

"You know why I'm here then," Dreth said. 

"Of course, I knew you'd come back eventually."

"Come back?"

"The spells to transform you and alter your memory worked, but I couldn't erase your abilities, your resistance to death." The Overlord shook his head sadly.

"Transformation? Memories?" Percy asked, saving Dreth the trouble.

"Indeed." The Overlord looked at the zombie. "He was immortal even back then you see. I couldn't kill him, so I had to find some other method to get him out of the way."

"If you wanted him out of the way why didn't you just bury him or something then?" Emerald asked, frowning.

The Overlord's smiled faded and he scowled. "I made a deal."

"A deal?" Dreth asked. ���With whom?" 

"Why, your beloved of course." The Overlord grinned again. "I suppose she still had feelings for you, even though you betrayed her. Even after you disposed of her I couldn't change the agreement though."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dreth shouted.