The Labyris Knight

by Adam Derbyshire

  “But Thomas tells me everything horrible tastes like chicken.” The navigator stated in horror, the tips of his swords trembling.

  Ashe, uncharacteristically lost for words, took a moment to check his situation and noted the quivering jelly mass sliding steadily towards them, its gloopy interior having sucked the unfortunate squealing man deeper inside, right up to his chest, despite his desperate struggle to pull free.

  “Come on we have to get out of here.” Ashe started, taking control and walking towards the jelly his keen eyes checking the floor and the walls. There had to be something here, the crimson cloaked Minotaur had only been out of his sight for a few moments. There had to be a doorway they could not see or a secret passageway that led deeper into the maze and if there was one thing Ashe was good at, it was spotting secret doors and corridors, because that’s where people hid their valuables.

  * * * * * *

  “So where do you think they are going?” Rowan asked, looking up at the covered seating area where Mora and Wanessa were being ushered from their seats towards the exit.

  “I’m more interested in seeing where the prize goes.” Colette replied, pushing back against several spectators who were jostling for space on the cramped labyrinth wall where they stood. She turned to the man behind her, her eyes blazing. “If you do not remove your hand from my arse, I’ll shove it so far up yours, you will have to open your mouth to pick your nose!”

  Rowan jumped at the outburst, accidentally elbowing a shawl covered spectator alongside her, causing the woman to grunt and turn her wrinkled face up towards her.

  “What is it lovey?” the crone asked, her smile revealing a mouth with more gaps than teeth and a tongue that was coated in thick white fungus.

  “My friend wondered where they are taking the axe?” She replied, trying to smile back and be apologetic whilst trying not to breathe in the stench of the crone’s halitosis wafting towards her, nor stare at the enormous hairy wart squatting on the end of the hag’s nose.

  “Up to the pyramid.” She replied, licking her lips with her pale slug of a tongue, before issuing a wet cough that made Rowan think of people who had been smoking several years and made her want to step away, despite the fact that the pressing crowd made it impossible to do so. “See the opening far up there, inside is the burial chamber where past rulers sit in state and it is where the Labyris Axe will be handed to the winner, isn’t this exciting?”

  “What? Up there?” Rowan allowed her gaze to wander up the side of the massive pyramid, shading her eyes with a hand in an effort to make out a thin black line cut into the side of the ancient monument right beneath the capstone. “How do they get right up there?”

  “My sister’s niece’s cousin says she has seen inside the pyramid and that it has several levels and stairs with interconnecting passages that lead up to the burial chamber but she is a terrible gossip and I would not believe half of it.” She smiled, then descended into another hacking cough before spitting a gob of sickly lime green phlegm off the wall to the sand below. “Oh but you can’t go up there dear, despite how pretty you are. Only royalty, select Minotaur and their servants are permitted and that balcony far up there, where the winner steps out, is the only part we common people are permitted to view.”

  “So that’s a balcony?” Colette frowned, leaning closer before suddenly turning towards the leering spectator behind her and landing a punch that lifted him off his feet causing the crowd to roar in laughter.

  “I warned him,” she muttered, blowing a stray blonde curl from her forehead before grabbing hold of Rowan’s hand. “Don’t’ let go, no matter what happens.”

  “Why where are we…” Rowan turned towards her friend and listened as arcane words flowed from Colette’s lips. Her arms suddenly felt cold, goose bumps rising up beneath her clothes as if insects had just crawled across her skin. She felt herself stretching out, the feeling increasing in intensity. Then with a clap that set her ears popping, she found herself stepping forwards but instead of falling from the labyrinth wall and down onto the sands, she staggered out onto a cool stone veranda.

  Rowan’s head spun and she flushed, a light feeling in her stomach reminding her of sending her little yellow Cessna into a dive. She tottered forwards a few more steps before ending up against a balustrade only to stare down the side of the pyramid onto the intricate maze and throngs of the packed crowds far, far below.

  “Steady!” Colette’s hand landed on her shoulder pulling her back from the edge and into safety. “Teleporting can cause you to feel a little queasy.”

  “H…h…how?”

  “It’s a kind of magic.” Colette winked, before lifting her finger up to her mouth. “Come on let’s look around quickly before anyone sees us up here.”

  Rowan blinked twice, taking deep breaths as she stared down at the pattern of the stone labyrinth, noting how the passageways and open areas formed an intricate geometric pattern that no one at ground level would ever behold. “Oh my! It’s so beautiful from up here.” She reluctantly turned from the wide balcony and followed Colette as they cautiously stepped into the shadow and out into the large chamber within.

  “Oh wow!” Colette whispered. “Just look at this place.” Her eyes roamed around the cavernous area, approximately one hundred feet across, soaking in every detail of the circular room, noting the flickering torches evenly set around the walls illuminating hieroglyphs of Minotaur and humans building Taurean in harmony. Spiced incense teased her senses, the pungent odour mixed with a hint of dust and the promise of secrets from ages past. Three exits led off into the darkness, probably to the passageways and stairwells rumoured to lie below. Thirteen huge thrones all sat facing inwards in a circle, with smaller chairs set between them. A soft yellow glow rose up from a pit that lay at the centre point of the room.

  Rowan moved slowly forward, slipping between the chairs, awed by the size of the thrones, set high above her, only to hesitate when she noted that the thrones across from her were occupied by huge shadowy figures, their armour glinting in the torchlight.

  “Colette. I don’t think we are alone here.” She whispered, her finger lightly tracing along the side of throne nearest to her. She paused when she was able to see into the huge seat and stifled a shriek at the huge Minotaur sitting there looking directly at her. His horns were dipped in gold and silver, his armour painted an ornate black and scarlet. One gauntleted hand rested on the hilt of the biggest broadsword Rowan had ever seen and a dark red cloak swept from one shoulder and cascaded down the pedestal of the throne to the floor.

  Her first instinct was to run, then something made her pause, her eye caught by the furious activity of a small spider weaving an intricate web between the sword and the arm of the throne. Then she noticed other signs; thick dust in the folds of the cloak, the way the Minotaur’s head lolled to one side and then she realised that the dark openings in the creature’s helmet held a secret she was beginning to comprehend.

  This Minotaur had not moved for some time.

  Rowan paced over to the next throne and studied the occupant sitting there with the same keen eye. This creature had an open-faced helm making it plain to see why it no longer wielded the huge crystal Warhammer laid across its lap. An ivory skull regarded her from beneath the ragged remains of its desiccated hide.

  This creature had also been dead for a long time!

  She stepped away from the threatening throne, only to feel a hand come down upon her shoulder. Rowan moved to scream, only for another hand to come down across her mouth, stifling her shout as Colette moved around to her side her fingers at her lips.

  “Be careful,” she whispered, pointing towards the centre of the room. “It’s a very long way down.” Rowan turned and realised she had been backing towards the centre of the room and into the pit that lay there. The area was a large sunken bowl about thirty feet across with most of the floor removed. The peril was only really apparent when this close to the edge or seated rai
sed upon one of the thrones. Stone walkways barely as wide as a decent sized boot spiralled in from the edge towards a round dais at the centre of the pit, the paths sometimes rose, sometimes dropped, interweaving and crossing until they all ended up at the centre of the bowl. Here stood a statue of two kneeling Minotaur gazing up to an empty pedestal. The dust lay disturbed here as if something had recently been removed.

  “No guesses to what normally sits there.” Colette murmured as she took in the sights through the openings in the floor, then took a deep breath to steady the sudden vertigo that assailed her at the immense drop down into the workings of the ancient monument. “You can see everything from up here. Look…” She gestured for Rowan to follow her example and gaze down at the inner levels of the pyramid.

  The view reminded Rowan of the inner workings of a chronograph watch, the type with the open face revealing the working clockwork parts within. The mesmerising assembly of moving parts formed a mechanical golden staircase, where individual stairs solidified then folded, spun out, then retracted. Outside the vertiginous spectacle, tier upon tier of seating ran around the inside of the pyramid, offering spectators an unobstructed view. As she watched, several Minotaur entered the auditorium and took their seats.

  “It’s just like the maze outside.” Rowan gasped, suddenly realising how beautiful the interwoven pathways of the bowl were and what they actually represented. “This whole thing is like a giant rose.”

  Colette stepped away, her attention captured by several thrones that still were empty, still awaiting their eternal occupants. A table sat to the side of one of these, its surface draped in an ornate cloth that dropped to the floor. Two of the smaller chairs sat vacant upon either side.

  “What do you think this is all for?” she asked, indicating to a jewelled goblet upon the table, a piece of fine white linen draped over its top. She touched a parchment scroll, quill inkpot and candle adjacent to the goblet then moved to pick it up, only to freeze as she heard something in one of the stairwells. The noise grew louder, causing the two women to find a hiding place as a slender figure came from the left and walked carefully across the floor.

  Only as the girl approached did Rowan recognise this was one of Mora’s personal servants, her head bowed, an amphora clasped in her trembling arms. The girl approached the table with unsteady steps, clearly exhausted from the strenuous climb and no doubt relieved to have managed to carry the jar all the way up to the burial chamber without dropping any of the precious liquid within. The servant girl placed the jar carefully on the floor, stood up, sighed, then turned to leave, only for a fearful clatter to stop her in her tracks as an ancient shield slid from one shadowy throne and crashed onto the floor. Rowan cursed loudly, realising any attempt at stealth was now pointless and stood up, her arms open wide to show no threat as she stepped from the gloom.

  “Look I’m really sorry. I did not mean to scare you.” She opened.

  “You should not be here. It is forbidden” the servant shouted. “I must summon the guards. I must…” she yawned, shook her head as if confused, rubbed her eyes and then crumpled to the floor as if felled by an invisible blow. Rowan rushed over fearing something had happened to the girl only to note Colette brushing her hands together as she stepped from her place of concealment, the remnants of a destroyed gemstone crunching beneath her boots.

  “Don’t worry, she is going to be sleeping for hours!” she winked mischievously. “Now pick up that shield and then we can hide this girl and decide what we are going to do next…”

  Heavy footsteps sounded from the entrance to the right. A steady march of feet in step.

  “Hell, now what?” Colette cursed. “Help me quickly!” She gestured to the unconscious serving girl, lifting her by the arms and with Rowan’s help dragged her behind the table before rolling her under the tablecloth.

  The footsteps came closer accompanied by raised gruff voices cursing the stairs they had needed to climb. Colette grabbed Rowan by the arm and shoved her under the table on top of the gently snoring girl before joining them and wriggling to the edge so she could see out from underneath the heavy cloth.

  From her sheltered vantage point Colette noticed eight ceremonial guards entering the hall carrying the axe upon a bier between them, the gold of its blade resplendent upon the bed of royal blue velvet on which it lay. The Minotaur moved to the edge of the recessed pit and a faint rumbling sound arose, the tremors of which vibrated through the stone floor and up through Colette’s delicate fingers. She craned her neck to see better, wishing the guards would move aside, instead they seemed to be all gathered around the axe and were passing it amongst them.

  “That’s it done!” One guard announced, finally stepping back for Colette to finally see the axe was now carefully positioned between the two minotaur statues, their outstretched hands cleverly sculpted to hold the axe and its velvet backdrop without the items tumbling through the gaps in the floor and down into the pyramid below.

  “Can I just request something.” One guard asked, still gasping and out of breath from his earlier climb. “Please don’t let me have to carry lady Wanessa up here. She’s been gorging herself all morning. The last time she did that she threw up all over the place.”

  “You will carry who you are instructed to.” Came a stern response, as a grey-haired Minotaur stepped from the shadows. The guards snapped to attention as Aelius approached them, pulling themselves up onto the ledge of the pit and forming a line as the last guard pressed something that caused a ramp Colette had previously not noticed to slowly retract back into the lip of the pit, leaving any move to the pedestal where the Labyris now lay, one of great risk.

  Aelius paused and looked around the room, sniffing the air. There was a scent of something here that was not normal. Was it lavender?

  “Gentlemen I think we need to make this entertaining.” He stated, his eyes still searching the room for signs of something not right. “The last four of you down the stairs will be given the honour of transporting the titanic lady Wanessa. I suggest if you do not wish to be in this unfortunate group you will make haste to ensure you get down the stairs first.” He clicked his fingers indicating they were to set off and all eight guards charged for the exit, like a bunch of rowdy school boys being summoned by the home bell, any semblance of ceremony now sacrificed in the race to avoid lifting the obese Minotaur.

  “Are they gone yet?” Rowan whispered. Aelius turned in the direction, where Colette was hiding, his eyes appearing to penetrate the thick cloth and locate the young women hidden beneath, before he smiled and stepped off into the darkness to follow his troops loudly clattering down the stairs.

  “Why?” Colette replied, deep in thought at the actions of the captain of the guard and not really paying attention to the shuffling and wriggling going on behind her as Rowan tried to find a comfortable way to lie. If he had seen them and Colette really believed he had, why had he not come over and dragged them out into the light?

  “Because I would really like to move this serving girl’s toe from my nose.” Rowan replied, breaking into Colette’s thoughts and leaving her questions unanswered.

  Colette slipped out from beneath the table, ignoring the comments from her companion as she walked back over to the pit and gazed across at the ceremonial weapon, a thought forming in her mind. If Mora did not have the Labyris axe at the end of the tournament they would be unable to confirm a successor, the mantle of power could not be handed down causing unrest within the population because by its very nature a vacuum needed to be filled. If the crew of the El Defensor had the axe they would be in an excellent position to negotiate if things became tricky, maybe even be able to discuss the release of Rauph.

  Rowan walked up alongside Colette, still moaning about the indignities of hiding under the table and voicing her concerns that they would be caught if they remained here much longer. Colette ignored her, instead, dropping to her knees and moving her hand along the lip of the pit. There had to be some
thing here, there just had to be.

  “Ah, ha!” she smiled, feeling the carefully hidden button beneath her finger and pressing it to make the walkway rumble out across the pit and click into place at the base of the isolated pedestal.

  “Well what are you waiting for?” Colette asked, turning to Rowan.

  “What are you doing?” Rowan replied in confusion. “We need to get out of here. Please don’t tell me we are not leaving.”

  “We are not leaving.” Colette replied calmly, causing Rowan to bite her lip in frustration and mutter under her breath. “Because you are going to steal that axe.”

  “I am going to do what? Are you mad! We shall get caught for sure.” Rowan stared across at the pedestal and the treasure lying there glinting softly, her eyes wide as if expecting a troop of burly Minotaur to charge back into the room at any moment.

  “Of course we won’t.” the mage replied. “After all I shall be right here standing guard whilst you go and get it.”

  “No! I’m not going to do it.” Rowan replied shaking her head. “Let’s go back to the ship we can grab more crewmen to come and get it now we know where it is.”

  “The axe is unguarded at the moment.” Colette replied. “It’s now or never.” Rowan shook her head, feeling hot, flustered but having to and agree with her stubborn friend’s assessment.

  “I’m going to get you for this.” she promised, before stepping out onto the ramp and walking as quickly as she could through the spiralling and intertwining pathways, over the dizzying drops and certain death that waited below. She arrived at the pillar, her legs shaking like jelly, gasping with relief, her hands skeletal white due to the grip she had on the Minotaur statues.

  Up close the Labyris axe looked very heavy. What if she dropped it? She slid her hand beneath the haft of the ceremonial weapon and moved to lift it down from the stand, grunting at the weight. Carefully, ever so carefully, she eased the weapon free and started to slide it from its resting place, trying to put her worries out of her mind. Positive thinking was the key. She wasn’t going to drop this, accidentally cut her foot off or do anything silly. This weapon would be theirs in mere moments. No one would even know… Oh yes, they would.