“I’m afraid it wasn’t. I saw it with my own eyes when you were but a babe.”
The blacksmith eyed him skeptically.
“Yes, Tavros, I was there throughout your childhood. The day of your first transformation, your wet nurse screamed loudly enough to rouse the dead. I rushed to her aid and saw a small minotaur in your crib, snorting loudly in anger and pain.”
Tavros didn’t budge until Antonia urged him to sit, rubbing his arm to calm him.
“Your father knew of the legend of the curse, but since there had been no history of it for several generations, he thought it a myth. After it happened several more times, your parents decided on your third birthday not to raise you themselves. At least your father did; your mother resisted, but he overruled her. He said the people could never know.”
“The people? Who are these people who influenced him to that degree, to where he would abandon his own son?”
Phidias cocked an eyebrow. “His subjects. Your parents are King Belen and Queen Iria.”
The color drained from Tavros’s face and Antonia’s eyes grew wide.
“Your father is the sole ruler of Orpheus, as was his father before him, and his father and so on, following a long line of kings. You are a direct descendant of King Minos of Crete and your ancestors have been ruling Orpheus for a millennium.”
The air left Tavros’s lungs before he had a chance to hold his breath. He felt himself becoming light-headed.
“There must be a mistake,” Antonia said. “Tavros is a blacksmith, not a prince.”
“In truth he is more than both,” replied Phidias. “And like many of his ancestors, he is also a minotaur.”
Tavros sighed, his shoulders sagging. Phidias reached out and gripped his forearm.
“I’m sorry you have long suffered.”
“To me, you are talking about strangers,” Tavros interjected. “I don’t know any of these people.”
Phidias nodded glumly.
“Be that as it may, you must hear me out. As I said, your parents are now gravely ill, and your grandfather sent me to find you. I first looked for you in Thirio, and it was there that I learned of your arrest in Phaino. I was told you’d been imprisoned on a ship bound for London, only to escape in Rome. I looked for months in Rome before false stories led me to Florence. After a month there, I began to hear tales about the Beast of Venice.”
Tavros finally sat again, speechless.
“I have been here in Venice for two seasons now, trying in vain to find you. I thought I was close a month ago, when I spoke to Kadri, the Turkish apothecary who is steeped in myths. He told me of a beautiful young woman who had been asking questions about minotaurs.” He smiled at Antonia. “Alas, I was repeatedly turned away by her family. And then yesterday…”
“The wedding,” whispered Antonia.
“Yes, as soon as I heard that a Greek blacksmith had become a minotaur, I was certain my long quest was almost over. Because you attacked several men, I knew you had no choice but to flee the island. To locate you, I had only to offer rewards to every gondolier and every dockhand.”
“You bribed Enzo,” Tavros said.
“It wasn’t difficult,” Phidias responded. “He made more money in an hour this morning than he did over the last year.”
“But why?” Tavros asked. “Why am I so wanted on an island that once evicted me as an infant?”
Now it was Phidias who looked surprised.
“You don’t understand the situation, do you? I suppose I haven’t explained myself clearly.” He leaned forward in his chair. “After they sent you away, your parents always thought they would have another child, but it was not to be. And now even if your father hasn’t already succumbed to the illness, he is nevertheless incapable of ruling. Though still strong of mind, your grandfather is old and feeble and his remaining days in this world are few as well.”
Phidias paused for a moment before summing things up. “Your Grace, the throne awaits you. Your people need you.”
Tavros’s stomach lurched. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. This could not be true, it was too impossible of a story. He was a laborer, not someone born to royalty.
“We have no money to pay a fare,” Antonia said. “Would we travel with you, aboard your vessel?”
Phidias smiled politely.
“My future Queen, from this moment forth, neither of you will ever want for money. And this fine ship is not my property; it belongs to Lord Tavros.”
He grinned at both of their shocked expressions.
“Convinced I was close to locating him, I sent word to Orpheus to send a ship and crew to meet us for the trip back. They sent the best of both.”
Antonia squeezed his hand tightly. Tavros saw wide-eyed amazement etched upon her face.
“What do you make of this, my love?” he asked.
“I know not what to think,” she said quietly. “It’s quite a shock, and you have proven to be one shock after another.”
Teasing, he posed the question, “Would you love me more as a king?”
“Only an hour ago, I thought there was nothing in the world that could make me love you more. Throne or no throne, my feelings have not changed, nor will they ever.”
Tavros smiled. Speaking in a clear, strong voice, he said, “If I am to do this, to sit on a throne as king, I will need a queen—a kind, beautiful woman of great intelligence and compassion.”
Phidias broke into a wide grin, looking from Tavros to Antonia.
“Seeing as how you have apparently already selected such a woman, I feel obliged to tell you that I am fully authorized by the Kingdom of Orpheus to perform marriage ceremonies. I would be thrilled to join the two of you in union upon your return.”
Antonia took Tavros’s arm and squeezed tightly.
Phidias added, “But we must leave forthwith. We haven’t time to waste, if there is any hope for you to see your parents.”
“I suspect ships will be setting out to find us, once it’s discovered that a Greek sailing vessel launched before dawn.”
“Let them try to catch us,” Phidias laughed. “This is a caravel, made by some of the finest shipbuilders in the world. It’s unbelievably fast and easily maneuverable. You have a small crew at your disposal, Your Grace, five of the finest sailors in the Orpheun navy.”
Phidias stood momentarily before taking a knee and bowing his head. “With your leave, I suggest we depart immediately. After the events of yesterday, open waters would seem to be the safest place for you.”
Tavros considered Phidias’s words carefully.
“Get up, Phidias, please.” Tavros sat straight and lifted his chin as he searched for an authoritative pose. “Your wise counsel is appreciated. Pull up anchor and set course for home immediately. And I want to meet the crew once we are at sea.”
He looked at Antonia by his side, easily picturing her as a queen. It was the part about him being king he had a hard time imagining.
“Also, I wish to have a marriage ceremony before the next nightfall.”
“So soon, Your Grace? If you wait until your return to Orpheus, we can hold a proper celebration, one befitting our next monarch.”
Tavros smiled at his beloved.
“It’s not soon, Phidias. We have already waited an eternity.”
Chapter 35
Tavros
“This way, Your Grace.”
“Phidias, please call me Tavros, or Lord, if you insist. There has not yet been a coronation.”
“Certainly,” Phidias replied as he escorted Tavros and Antonia through the castle.
Tavros was stunned at the scale of it all, the giant rooms with high ceilings, the number of servants who dropped to a knee at the sight of him. It was unsettling and made him quite uncomfortable. In his mind, he was one of them, still a laborer himself.
Antonia tugged at his hand as they passed through the royal gardens, with the most exquisite plants and flowers on either side. At least his new wife seemed to be
comfortable here. If they were going to find a way to rule an entire island kingdom, it would help if one of them didn’t feel totally out of place. Just the stares they received from everyone they passed made him squirm.
Immediately upon their arrival on the island, they had been informed of the tragic death of his father just three days prior.
Tavros’s response, his first uttered words on Orpheun soil, had surprised everyone.
“Just as well. I’d have been probably killed him myself.”
His mother was still very much alive, but in a state of dementia so severe that she was bedridden. She didn’t recognize her own son, instead thinking him to be her husband. Tavros had been infuriated and walked out of the room. When Antonia caught him in the vast hallway, he had told her, “I will leave orders to have her kept as comfortable as possible until her time of death. I do not need to see her again.”
He’d then given an order to Phidias. “Send a ship to Thirio tomorrow and tell the crew to return with my real parents, the ones who raised me. If they agree, I wish to have them living on Orpheus.”
And now, the three of them were on their way to see the only living relative who might still recognize him: his grandfather.
Tavros was as nervous as he could ever remember being as Phidias knocked on the door, then opened it.
When he entered the large bed chamber, he saw two chairs and a single bed. A man rose from one of the chairs to greet them. Behind him on the bed was the shell of a man, elderly and thin as a rail, with long white hair and a beard to match.
“Tavros,” Phidias said, “let me introduce you to the former and present King Nicos. Your grandfather.”
When Tavros saw Nicos’s weak smile, he knew at once who this was. The same kind face and knowing eyes had haunted his dreams as far back as he could remember, always exhorting him to breathe deeply and slowly. There was no doubt, this was the same man.
“Tavros, my child, come,” he said in a raspy whisper, beckoning his visitor to the bed with a gesture.
“My king,” Tavros said in awe, dropping to one knee as he approached and taking the man’s hand. “I remember you, Grandfather.”
The old man’s lips curled into a faint smile as tears formed in his eyes. “I was afraid I might never see you again. And who is this with you?”
Only then did Tavros remember Antonia standing behind him. “This is my…” he smiled, realizing this was the first time he would introduce her with these words, “…my wife, Antonia.”
“And therefore the next Queen of Orpheus. Come closer, my dear.”
As she stood at his bedside, Nicos planted a kiss on the back of Antonia’s hand and said, “Welcome to Orpheus. You are so lovely, by yourself you threaten to outshine this beautiful kingdom.”
He studied her face for a moment, then asked, “Is Tavros a good man?”
Without hesitation she responded, “There is none better, Your Grace.” Smiling, she added, “Though I admit I may be biased.”
Nicos nodded his approval to Tavros.
“I am relieved to see that you are a better judge of woman than your father was. Then again, your father got the wife he deserved.”
Looking around the room, the old man said, “Could all of you please leave Tavros and me, so we may get to know each other again?”
Once alone, Nicos said, “I know not how much time we will have together, but I fear it will not be enough. I know you have as many questions as I have things to tell you. Ask what you wish to know.”
Tavros moved a chair near the bed and took a seat. “Why did my parents exile me, their only child?”
Nicos nodded. “The most important question of all.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and said, “Your father was not a good man, Tavros. He was selfish and insecure, and his subjects despised him. He felt that people of Orpheus would reject him as king if they knew he had a minotaur for a son. When you were a small child, he sent you off in secret, because he knew I would never have allowed it. I was furious when I discovered what he’d done. Belen and I never spoke again after that day.”
“How did he become king if you were still alive?”
“He stole the crown while I was away with our army, fighting a war alongside the Cretes. I tried in vain to wrest the throne back upon my return, but when the feud threatened to divide the kingdom, I stepped aside rather than tear it asunder.”
All of this information was coming at Tavros so quickly that it was all he could do to process it.
“I have had dreams in which I saw you, telling me to breathe slowly.”
“Slowly… deeply… relax…” Nicos said, then repeated it. “Slowly… deeply…”
“Relax… Yes! Exactly like that. Is that a memory from my childhood?”
“I tried to teach you to regulate your body energy, to stem the tide once the turning had begun. You were so young and couldn’t control your emotions. Then before you could learn, your father exiled you, arranging for your adoption.”
“But how did you know to do that? To control your breathing and your energy?”
Nicos cocked a gray eyebrow. “I learned it when I was a boy, from my grandfather.”
Tavros’s confusion must have been evident, because Nicos added, “The curse sometimes skips a generation.”
When he realized what Nicos was saying, his eyes grew wide. “You? You’re…”
“Yes. A minotaur. Your father knew, yet he still chose to send you away. Belen was a coward, always afraid of someone taking his throne.”
“And your grandfather was a minotaur, too?” Tavros asked breathlessly.
“My grandfather as well. King Calix—Calix the Great, they called him. His father, too, King Tavros II.”
Tavros shook his head in disbelief, struggling to comprehend his new family history.
“This is all so much to take in.”
Nicos grabbed his grandson’s forearm. “You come from a long line of kings, Tavros. Many of them were also minotaurs, and more than a few of your ancestors were put to death over the years because of the curse. But it can be controlled. You do not have to let the curse rule you.”
Tavros nodded and cast his eyes downward. “Antonia has already determined that. She has been helping me to learn to tame the beast.”
“Then she is definitely the woman who should rule with you as your Queen.”
Tavros looked up to see his grandfather smiling.
“She will make a great queen, Grandfather. I’m the one who has much to learn.”
“You will be fine, Tavros,” the old man said. “As a child, you already had the most important thing a king needs: a good heart. Your subjects will love you, because unlike their previous king, you are not a total arse.”
The coronation ceremony was hastily scheduled for the following day. King Nicos insisted on being carried downstairs on a sella, a cushioned chair mounted on a platform carried by four men. There was as much of a celebration as could be planned on such short notice, and Tavros was aware that the entire kingdom was astounded that a true heir to the throne had been located and brought home to rule.
In the castle’s Great Chamber, half a thousand gathered to watch the brief ceremony. Tavros was determined not to let his nervousness show and having Antonia by his side helped. She was resplendent in a silver gown designed and created overnight by the royal tailors. He himself was wearing the same gold and crimson king’s doublet that Nicos had worn at his own coronation, altered to fit his broad shoulders.
King Nicos was not strong of voice and needed someone to repeat his words so that all could hear, but the chamber was as quiet as sunlight when he readied himself.
“Good day to you all,” he began slowly. “My comments will be brief, but I thought it important that I introduce to you my grandson, who will be your new ruler.”
There was a brief coronation ceremony, in which Nicos recited vows which Tavros would then repeat. Nicos passed the official scepter and orb to Tavros and handed Phidias the c
rowns to be placed atop the Royal Couple’s heads. Throughout it all, the assembled crowd remained respectfully silent, save for the rustling of clothing.
When the official ceremony was over, Nicos somehow managed to speak loudly enough to be heard throughout the chamber. “I give to you King Tavros III and Queen Antonia! Congratulations to you both and to us all. At long last this great kingdom is again in capable hands.”
Muted applause was the response, and one Tavros had been expecting. Why would these people think highly of an outsider brought in to rule after his execrable father had made a mockery of the throne? He had accepted the fact that their respect would have to be earned.
He stood and faced his subjects for the very first time, mere weeks after having sweated and toiled in the forges. Clearing his throat, Tavros spoke in a deep, authoritative tone that would become his trademark.
“Please bear with me, as I have no experience with speech-making.”
He hesitated briefly as he gathered his thoughts.
“Greetings, my subjects…”
Tavros paused, then shook his head.
“No, that does not feel right to me. Allow me to begin anew…”
Another pause followed.
“Greetings, fellow Orpheuns.” He nodded and grinned. “That’s better.”
Then he finally got to his short speech.
“I never knew King Belen, either as my father or as a ruler, but in my short time here on Orpheus I have heard story after story of his countless misdeeds. This is all going to change now. In order to repair the damage done to my family name, I plan to work for you, not against you. Like many Orpheuns, I grew up poor and have had to toil with my hands my entire life. I’m unfamiliar with the work of a king but give you my most solemn vow that I will approach the throne in the only manner I know, that of hard labor and deliberate consideration. I will work tirelessly to make all of your lives better, not just the lives of those in the castle.”
He looked out and saw people in the crowd turning in surprise towards one another.
“I accept your throne in the name of King Nicos and all the kings before him. Tomorrow it will be time to get to work, but today will be a day of celebration in honor of King Nicos and all the former Kings of Orpheus, with the obvious exception of King Belen.”
Beauty and the Beast of Venice Page 15
