“Stop that,” hissed Theseus. “They’ll hear you.” Theseus, of course, was completely composed. In contrast to me, he was absolutely still. Like a statue. His sword rested lightly in his palm, as naturally as an extension of his arm.
The waiting was getting to me, but I could hear the guards getting closer. It wouldn’t be long now.
At least we were armed. The weapons I’d taken from the guards who had killed Glaucus had finally found a use. I’d stored them in my room on a whim. I didn’t think I’d actually get to use them, but I was comforted by their presence. It was fortunate that I had them at all.
Weeks after I’d killed the guards, I finally got around to disposing of their corpses. Although they didn’t decompose like a body would have in the open air, they were still starting to smell. Not only that, but I tripped over one of them once, falling onto the body. I guess I was so used to the labyrinth that I didn’t expect to encounter a foreign object. I’d almost forgotten they were there. For anyone who has ever touched a decaying corpse, you know how unpleasant the experience could be. I don’t recommend it.
I dragged the bodies into a recess far removed from the trapdoor or my own chamber. I threw them into an untidy heap, unwilling to give them any sort of dignified rest, especially after what they’d done to Glaucus. The body of the Athenian youth I put elsewhere, adjusting his arms and legs in a dignified manner so he appeared to be sleeping. I would’ve preferred to give him a proper burial, but I lacked the means. It was the best I could do.
I almost left the weapons of the guards with their bodies. Common sense prevailed, and I eventually put them in my bedchamber. Now I was glad I had.
Flickering yellow light appeared around the corner. I could clearly hear the voices of the guards now. They sounded scared, as well they should be. They had entered the labyrinth—in all likelihood unwillingly—to face the monster. And they got something else in the bargain. They had to contend with Theseus as well, and he was not to be taken lightly.
They certainly hadn’t expected us to be armed. Whether they’d forgotten about the demise of the last guards to enter or had just overlooked that fact, it certainly gave us an advantage. There were other factors in our favor too. The corridors of the maze were relatively narrow—only the width of an average sized man stretched end to end, just enough room for two men to stand abreast. That meant they could only attack two at a time. Not only that, but I knew the labyrinth intimately. They did not. Fear also had a hand to play. Their fears threatened to unman them.
Theseus and I had just enough time to come up with a strategy of sorts. It wasn’t much of one, but it was all we had. The guards thought that the ball of thread would lead them to where the tributes would be huddling in fear. That was no longer the case.
Theseus and I had returned to the secret passage. Cries of terror from the tributes had welcomed me, but the presence of Theseus and his hurried explanation managed to settle them to a degree. They still eyed me with a combination of fear, loathing, and disgust, but I was used to that by then.
Quickly, we gathered up the thread and laid a path far removed from the Athenians. And there we lay in wait.
The first two guards, carrying torches and spears, appeared from behind a wall. Theseus and I leapt up and were onto them before they realized what was happening. Their cries and screams must have unnerved those behind because the corridor was suddenly filled with confused shouting.
Normally, their spears would’ve been a problem. They had a much longer reach than the sword and club wielded by Theseus and I. With the first two, it didn’t matter. It was over so quickly, they didn’t have time to utilize their advantage.
Even now, I was reluctant to kill. These guards were only guilty of obeying orders. Unlike the others, they had not killed my pet rat. I was not motivated by vengeance. I blocked the clumsy spear thrust and brained the guard in front of me without using unnecessary force. It was enough to knock him out, but I felt confident that I hadn’t killed him.
Theseus had no such compulsion. Unhampered by conscience, he attacked with a will, yelling and swearing, intending to kill with each thrust. He skewered the first guard and then knelt down to finish off the one I had incapacitated.
“Don’t,” I warned, knowing what he was about to do. Theseus ignored me and slit the guard’s throat.
“Go feed the crows, maggot eyes,” he said with something approaching glee.
I had no time to contemplate this though, the next two guards were upon us, and I was busy trying to save my own life.
Theseus fought with the same fury I remembered. If anything, he was a better swordsman than ever. He dispatched both guards while all I could do was keep their spears at bay. His eyes had taken on that familiar cold, furious glint. I knew better than to get in his way.
The rest of the guards retreated in confusion that was part real and part ruse. They needed to give themselves some space. I saw what the next two guards were carrying.
“Bows!” I warned.
Theseus charged anyway. His blood was up, and there was no way he was about to retreat. You have to admire that in a man.
“Come join me in Tartarus!” he roared, brandishing his sword. “You calf brained sons of dogs!”
The first arrow struck him in the lower leg. It didn’t slow him down at all. In the time it takes me to say this, two more guards were down. The rest retreated in disarray.
“Theseus!” I was shouting now. When Theseus was like this, he became almost impossible to control. “Theseus,” I said again, grabbing him by the arm.
He turned to me and raised his sword. I saw death in his eyes.
“Theseus, it’s me, Asterion. We’ll retreat and set another ambush for them.”
He narrowed his eyes and then realized what was happening. I finally saw recognition there. He nodded curtly.
I helped him down the corridor, following the thread. He was limping slightly. I heard the twang of bows behind me and felt a hot surge of pain as an arrow penetrated my back. I grunted and gritted my teeth, trying to ignore it. I had suffered worse.
I knew the other guards would be more wary now. They would not pursue us in haste. It gave us time and advantage. But we were both wounded, and there were many more guards to deal with. The labyrinth was probably filling up with more guards even as we retreated. For everyone we killed, two more joined them.
It was hopeless, but Theseus and I were both committed to fighting to our last breath. We had to protect the innocent tributes. I began to question my reluctance to kill. If I left the guards alive, they would only return to try and kill me again. I didn’t really have an option.
This place, as I had long suspected, would become my tomb. It saddened me to think it would be Theseus’s too. There was no way out of the labyrinth now. Or was there? Of course there was—the trapdoor! We just had to reach it. I felt a sudden surge of hope. If the guards were spread throughout the labyrinth looking for us and the other tributes, then perhaps the trapdoor wouldn’t be well guarded. But how to lead all the tributes there without being discovered? I gritted my teeth in frustration.
Theseus and I retreated into the darkness. After several minutes, we stopped to catch our breath and examine our wounds. The arrow had only grazed Theseus, but the wound was bleeding heavily. He staunched the bleeding with a strip torn from his loincloth. The wound on my back was a different story. The arrow was wedged firmly below my shoulder blade. I knew it hadn’t penetrated my lung or any other organ. If it had, I would have been unable to breathe. Or just plain dead.
“I have to take it out,” said Theseus, examining the wound.
“No, leave it,” I said. It hurt, but Theseus would only make it worse if he took it out. There was a chance he could cause more damage as it exited the wound. Not only that, but there was another consideration. I doubted a puncture like that would be easy to plug. I ran the risk of bleeding to death.
“Break it off instead,” I said.
“You have changed, Asterion,” said Theseus laughing happily, grabbing the arrow shaft and snapping it with a quick twist of his hands. “You have become as soft as a hag’s breasts,” He threw the arrow shaft away. If it had been him, Theseus would have insisted I take the arrow out. But that was Theseus. I, at least, tried to consider consequences. I also suspected that Theseus liked pain.
“We’ll move further into the labyrinth and ambush the sons of brainless goats again,” said Theseus firmly.
“It’s pointless,” I said wearily. “We won’t be able to defeat them all.”
“Then we will sacrifice our lives at great cost to them. We will take many to Hades with us. The crows will feast on their eyes tonight!”
Typical Theseus. You couldn’t help but admire his enthusiasm, and I certainly didn’t blame him for it. Theseus really took the expression charmei gethosunoi—Greek for “rejoicing in battle”—quite literally. I didn’t have the heart to point out that there were no crows down here either. He was a hero after all and a product of his own legend. He firmly believed that a hero should die in battle, taking as many enemies with him as possible. I had a more pragmatic approach—one that wouldn’t result in my own untimely and unnecessary death. I knew we were unlikely to escape the labyrinth alive, but I wasn’t prepared to throw my life away. Not when a tiny hope remained.
“There is another way,” I said.
Theseus shook his head. “No, there’s not, brother.” He touched me on the arm. “Be brave. This is our time to die. I am with you. Let’s embrace our fates together.” He laughed.
And I thought I was the crazy one.
I shook his hand off. I was beginning to get a little frustrated with Theseus’s battle lust. “The guards will follow the thread, right?” Theseus nodded. “Then,” I continued, “we won’t. We go back to the tributes and lead them to the trapdoor. They won’t be expecting that.” Or would they? Probably, but it was the only plan I had. The labyrinth, you have to remember, was huge. Even with tens or even hundreds of guards, it was unlikely we would be discovered. Until we reached the trapdoor, that is.
Grudgingly, Theseus agreed, reluctantly putting his suicide attempt on hold for the moment.
We left the path of the thread and headed back to where the tributes waited. Unfortunately, a group of guards had already found the tributes. Theseus and I knew something was wrong as soon as we neared the escape tunnel. Voices lifted in fear. Confused shouting.
We ran into the corridor where we had left the tributes. A palace guard loomed in front of us. Theseus cut him down without hesitation. Another sprang up to replace him and received the point of Theseus’s sword as his reward.
The corridor was a claustrophobic mess of bodies. Most of the tributes were kneeling. Several guards were down the far end carrying torches. Some had bows. I could see a few dead bodies lying on the ground. One of the Athenian youths was wrestling with the guards.
I was at a momentary loss as to what to do. Theseus, much more a man of action than myself, felt no such confusion.
“Go,” he commanded. “Take as many as you can and get to the trapdoor. I will hold the guards off.”
I didn’t have time to argue. I wanted to stay and help, but this was the only option. Theseus couldn’t lead them to the trapdoor. He didn’t know the way.
Using shouts and kicks, Theseus urged the nearby tributes to stand and told them to follow me. Under normal circumstances, I doubt they would have, but this wasn’t a normal circumstance.
He pushed his way through them, and I lost him in the chaotic corridor clogged with human bodies. I heard the twang of bowstrings and cries of pain.
“Follow me,” I yelled to any of the tributes who were within earshot and hurried off back the way we had come. I didn’t turn to see if they followed. If they did, they had a chance to live. If they chose to stay, they would probably die. I didn’t have time to convince them of the merits of either option.
Reassured by the sounds of hurried footsteps behind me, I slowed and let them catch up. Luckily, one of them still carried the lamp I had left. I counted eight frightened tributes. Behind them, I heard the sounds of battle as Theseus guarded our retreat with his life.
I moved as swiftly as I could. Not nearly swiftly enough but I was hampered by two factors. One, the arrow in my back was beginning to take its inevitable toll, and two, the tributes were reluctant to get too close to me. I had to constantly stop and urge them on.
A guard suddenly sprang out before me, thrusting with his spear. I was taken completely by surprise and grunted heavily as the spear tip entered my side. The guard tried to withdraw it and thrust again, but I stopped him by the simple expedient of grasping the haft of the weapon with my free hand. I pulled him toward me and brought my club down. He was wearing a helmet, but even so, I heard his skull crack like an egg.
The wound to my side was fortunately not deep. Only the tip had penetrated. I pulled it out, heedless of the blood that ran down my side and along the inside of my leg.
Perhaps my actions had convinced the tributes that I was now trustworthy. Maybe they just realized that if I hadn’t eaten them by now, I was probably not hungry. Whatever the reason, they started to follow me with greater enthusiasm.
We reached the trapdoor without further incident. If I had hoped that it would be relatively unguarded, I was disappointed. Minos may have been a cruel and often unwise ruler, but he wasn’t foolish. The floor space directly under the trapdoor was crowded with guards. I could clearly see how hopeless our situation was by the several torches that now lit the space. Even as I watched, more descended the rope.
I clenched my teeth together in frustration and anger. So close! To have come this far and be denied now was almost unbearable. I resigned myself to die, knowing the wounds I’d suffered would kill me inevitably if they weren’t treated soon. Perhaps Theseus inspired me. I would take as many as I could with me before I died.
I heard sounds of commotion behind me and turned by head. My great height enabled me to see over the heads of the tributes. I saw Theseus rush up behind us, panting and bleeding. He was smiling. Several guards trailed behind him, blocking our path.
I met his eye, and for some reason I grinned back. His expression was infectious. I felt a little comforted knowing I would die with my friend.
I turned my attention back to the guards in front of me and hefted my club menacingly. They hadn’t moved, reluctant to be the first to die. Time seemed to slow for a moment. One of the faces of the guards seemed to be familiar for some reason. My eye was drawn instinctively toward him, even though he was close to the rear of the clustered guards.
Now, I confess I didn’t know every one of the guards. Many I recognized from my time spent in the palace, but I had no doubt that there were many, many others I had never encountered. There were hundreds or possibly thousands of guards and soldiers on Crete in those days. There was no reason why I would’ve recognized one of them. But I did.
Perhaps it was because he was larger than the others. Perhaps it was because of his noble bearing. He had long dark hair that flowed down his shoulders and a full beard. This was not unusual amongst the guards. What set him apart mostly was his clothing. He wore a rich tunic instead of a loincloth and armor. And he wasn’t carrying a sword or spear. In one hand, he grasped a trident.
It was the trident that did it. The trident was the symbol of Poseidon. I had no doubts at all that my father had come to me in my hour of greatest need. We locked gazes for a fleeting moment. His expression was unreadable, and then his mouth quirked into the briefest of smiles, and he nodded at me.
Time resumed its normal languid pace.
And then the earth shifted.
The walls of the labyrinth shook. Many were thrown off their feet, but I managed to stay upright. Chunks of rock began raining down upon everyone gathered there. Screams and dust filled the air. Several of the guards were crushed by falling rock. I received a gla
ncing blow from a large rock falling from the roof of the labyrinth. I staggered and fell to my knees. One more step to the left and it would have flattened me.
Many have said that this was a natural earthquake. Crete was prone to them after all. But I know better. My last thousand years upon this earth has taught me wisdom. There are those who attribute natural events like earthquakes to nothing other than what they are—a natural occurrence. Often that is the case. Experience and my interaction with the gods in the centuries since have taught me to recognize the difference.
This earthquake was not natural. Poseidon had merely bided his time and waited for the perfect opportunity to bring about his final revenge on Minos. To make him pay for what he had done to the sons of Poseidon. I know this because Poseidon himself told me, many, many years later. You may choose to believe me or not. I don’t care. I know it is the truth.
The guards, understandably, were in disarray, confused and disheartened by this turn of events. Many had been killed. Some had fled in terror. Most had forgotten about us. I got to my feet and looked around. The earthquake was over. Rocks continued to fall from the ceiling and walls. The ceiling of the labyrinth had been torn asunder as if by the hand of a titan. A jumbled pile of rocks lay before me, reaching well above even my head height. Of Poseidon, there was no sign. I saw Theseus trying to pull one of the tributes to their feet. He was dusty and shaken but thankfully otherwise unharmed.
“Did you see him? I asked after I’d gingerly picked my way to Theseus. I felt weak. Blood leaked in a constant stream from the wound in my side. The arrow in my back was a source of constant, throbbing pain.
“Who?” asked Theseus, helping another one of his fellow Athenians up.
“Never mind,” I said.
A couple of guards moved as if to attack us. Both Theseus and I raised our weapons, faces grim. The guards fled rather than face our cold wrath.
“It seems we have a way out after all,” said Theseus, looking above us.
We did indeed. The labyrinth, once my prison and home, was now shattered and broken. Never again would it serve to imprison the unwilling.
Minotaur Page 23
