But without even a slightly gust of wind, reaching the port before sunset would be impossible. Nestor approached his deputy, peeling off the armour until he stood in nothing but his undergarments and sandals. “I"m swimming,” he said. “Deliver my things to either my wife or myself, depending on whether I survive.”
“Yes, captain,” said the bearded deputy, his eyes darting over Nestor"s discarded armour. The crew stopped their rhythmic rowing and watched the scene. Their almost naked commander stood on the starboard and shouted, “Poseidon, may the sea absorb me or allow me to reach without hindrance!”
With that, before he could think about the foolishness of what he was about to do or let fear or doubts pollute his mind, Nestor leapt into the water.
Cold attacked his skin as he was submerged with a splash, salt stinging his eyelids as he swam for the surface. Several voices shouted after him as he swam furiously for land, leaving his ship behind. There was no time to lose. He had to save the Minotaur. Minos had hated the child from the moment he"d set eyes on him. He wouldn"t wait a moment past sunset.
Nestor was a powerful man, years of training and service honing his tall form into a mountain of muscle and power. But even he knew that attempting to swim twenty miles was a bad tactic. But he didn"t have time for doubts. He would swim there and save the child or die trying.
His subordinates watching the scene watched, many of them inspired by Nestor"s resolve. He swam like he was born of the sea, powerful arms rising and sinking into the water as he made for shore. They knew in that moment how he"d once saved his previous king against the certain doom of the pirates. With an unbreakable spirit and faith.
When the sun was sinking lower and lower, Nestor could see the city when he stopped for breath. He"d already swum most of the way there. He was frozen and exhausted, saltwater on his eyelashes and burning in throat. An ordinary man would have drowned long ago, his muscles refusing to obey. But he kept telling himself in his mind that he would get there and remove the curse. Then he could die. He didn"t care what happened after that.
When he finally clambered onto the beach, the sun had already set, nothing but an orange glow on the horizon to his right. He shivered, soaked to the bone, and he could barely breathe, but there was no way he could stop. Once he"d scrambled to his feet, he broke into a run, the dusty breeze cools on his flushed cheeks, goosebumps stippling up his drenched skin.
He chased through town as fast as he could, ignoring the stares and remarks from passers-by. His hands trembled, his muscles burning with fatigue, bile burning the back of his throat. Running up the stairs to the palace he was spotted by the architect, Daedalus.
“Hurry up, he"s about to sacrifice him!” he cried as Nestor sped past. “Do not run into the maze! There is a lever hidden in front of it! Pull it and the passage to the centre will open!”
Nestor wasn"t at all sure what he just heard. Was he talking about the labyrinth?What lever? “Where?” he yelled.
“The garden!” There was no other garden than the royal one in the palace. Nestor"s wet sandals pounded on the stone; just like exactly a year ago, he was rushing there, only now his armour was gone, his lungs almost bursting with exertion, his body begging him to stop and rest. He was reached the royal chamber, where two guards stood, clad in steel and robes of red.
“There"s no passage,” one declared, eyes flickering from Nestor"s drenched black hair to his legs dripping with saltwater. “Turn back.”
“Move, you fools!” Nestor bellowed. “Buy the gods,” the other guard murmured. “It"s the head of security. Let him in!” Against all protocols, they opened the gates and let him through.
“Your spear!” he snapped, and the young guard handed it over. He took a sharp right, almost stumbling on his wet sandals, but gripping the spear he still ran, breathing hard like a furious bull. He saw the edge of the labyrinth, an enormous black wall towering above him, and the secret passage Daedalus had mentioned. It had already been opened.
“Hell and damnation!” he yelled furiously, but he kept running, heading into the tunnel though his legs screamed in protest, his blood boiling, every part of him begging him to slow down. Nestor ignored his fatigue, praying to all the gods he knew that it was not too late.
He ran, sweat pouring down his face, his nose running, his muscles burning, until about halfway through when he spotted light and an altar in a small square; the centre of the labyrinth. Several trees, skeletal without the blessing of the sun, stood around them.
His king was there; the baby, too, lying on an altar. He was bigger, hooves kicking, King Minos looking down at the baby with disgust on his handsome features. The promised year of keeping the child alive had not brought any warmth or love to his heart. He raised a ritual dagger above his head, the disgust transforming to rage.
Nestor"s limbs trembled. He wouldn"t make it. If I miss this chance, the child will die.
Using whatever strength remained in his exhausted body, Nestor clambered up the nearest tree, still clutching the guard"s spear tightly in his hand. He aimed it high, pointing it at his king.
For a breath, it felt like something was steadying his trembling hand, making his aim true. He had to knock the dagger from Minos" hands, make him see reason…
He threw the spear with the last of his energy at the same time as the dagger fell. His vision swam, black spots blinking beneath his eyelids. Exhaustion took over as the spear flew through the air. He fell from the tree and hit the ground with a thud, his muscles on fire, heart thundering like the hooves of warhorses to battle.
As he lost consciousness, he saw the altar. There was nothing now but blood.
Nineteen
The chamber of the goddess of death was furnished in a completely different style than one might anticipate. Nestor expected terrible paintings, dead bodies, and bloodied handcuffs hanging from the ceiling. On the contrary, the room was decorated with splendour and style that would put even the greatest decorators and architects of Greece to shame.
It was dim, but the torches were finished with great care and the glowing fire gave it an almost romantic atmosphere. In the middle there was a white tub covered with intricate paintings depicting the most wonderful stories related to gods and heroes. There was the siege of Troy, and Orpheus rescuing Eurydice from Hades, and Herakles" fight with the Hydra of Lerna. There were many others, but one of them caught his eye, feeling familiar to him. The man led seven bizarre characters to the tether, or a prison.
“Let"s go outside,” suggested Thanatos, taking Nestor by the hand and leading him to the terrace. He was no longer accompanied by the terrible images he saw in her presence in the Judgement Chamber. That was the power of the goddess. She could create death in people"s minds to arouse fear in her opponent and her awe-inspiring subjects.
I wonder what Hades is capable of? Nestor wondered. After all, Hades and Thanatos were not too dissimilar in their role amongst the gods.
“Not as much as I,” she said with a smile. Nestor was afraid that instead of thinking, he"d said those words aloud, but she added, “Contrary to appearances, Hades was an extremely cheerful and honest ruler. He never kidnapped Persephone, either. He seduced her and they were very happy here. It was mortals who branded him an unpleasant murderer and kidnapper. Though I suppose it"s not much of a shock; after all, he was the ruler of hell. And as for your thoughts, yes. I can read in them. My brother taught me that.”
“Hypnos?” asked Nestor curiously. It wasn"t the first time he"d dealt with a god. And reading his mind wasn"t the most terrifying skill he"d ever seen.
“Yes! How do you know that?” she looked impressed, eyeing him with dark eyes that were once so beautiful and terrible. “My brother is unknown to most, having chosen to live beside the river of forgetfulness. It"s very ironic, wouldn"t you say, that most people don"t remember him?”
“Well, madam, a few centuries and a few drunken evenings with Dionysus have done their job.”
She laughed. “That chatterbox was r
eally a good inte rlocutor. He didn"t judge anyone, and he could get along with everyone. Butlet"s get to the point,” she turned serious, and gestured towards the terrace that dominated the far wall.
He stepped outside, where a waist-high wall overlooked what was one more unexpected and amazing sight Nestor experienced that day.
Mountains crowned the horizon, topped with snow. An enormous and beautiful valley stretched before him, dotted with clumps of trees and blue trails of rivers. Much like before, he could see hundreds of souls, but unlike the ones awaiting their Judgement, they were happy. The Elysian Fields, he realised with awe. The place where the souls of the just and the good-hearted went after they died and passed Judgement.
Nestor had never set eyes on such a wonderful sight. He felt he could stare at it forever. Once again reading his thoughts, Thanatos said, “I have two other views, but I imagine you won"t like them quite so much.” She waved her hand the land transformed.
It was an ordinary land for the souls that weren"t good enough for the Elysian Fields, but not bad enough to be damned to hell. It resembled human cities, vast lands of stone and wooden homes. Once again, she waved her hand. This time there was no doubt as to what he had before his eyes. Tartarus. A land of fire and rock, like the bowels of an enormous volcano. Though he knew it couldn"t hurt him, Nestor recoiled from the burning wasteland before them. Burning giants, moving slow and yet graceful in their way, wandered the hellscape.
“A depressing view, wouldn"t you agree?” said the goddess of death, her voice gentle.“I see it enough in my work, so I prefer to watch the Elysian Fields when I can.” She waved her hand a final time, restoring the original view. Nestor instantly felt cooler, calmer, despite it simply being an illusion. “Tell me, what made you come all theway here?”
“I had a vision,” he replied, meeting the goddess" eyes. “I saw Dionysus. He was in terrible shape. He was saying something about the interregnum and something worse. I"ve guessed before that something is happening in Olympus, ever since my curse was lifted and I became human again.”
“Yes,” she said, her lovely face filling with sadness. “Unfortunately, you"re right. Zeus, Poseidon and Hades are all dead.”
The news was like a blow to Nestor"s stomach, and it took him a moment to process it. His ill feeling, the vision he"d had… he"d been right. “Who"s responsible for this?” he finally whispered.
“You know, don"t you?”
He nodded. Of course.“Ares. But then, how are you still alive?” “Ares may be violent, but he"s not stupid,” she co mmented, tiltingher head. “He knew that getting rid of us all wouldn"t do him any good. He killed three rulers to take over their kingdoms, but without us, he would die, too.”
“I see,” said Nestor. “But then, why do you serve him? After all, you can defeat him together.” Thanatos smiled with pity, like an adult explaining to a child the basics of the world. “Killing your own family among the gods is nothing new. He reached for power, so now he rules. But that"s not the worst thing. As I said before, he is not stupid, butnaive.”
“I don"t understand.” The cool breeze and gorgeous sight of the Elysian Fields did little to comfort Nestor. “He didn"t do it alone,” she said. “He brought six gods from other, unknown worlds. And the fact that they were able to defeat the three Olympic gods doesn"t make our other family optimistic. We just don"t know their intentions.”
Nestor listened to the whole story with great commitment, but he still had trouble understanding one thing. “If the gods with mighty powers don"t want to fight thembecause they don"t believe they can defeat the seven, what chance do I have?”
“A good and just question,” she smiled. “Well, first of all, you spent the most time with Ares. You know him. If brute force doesn"t work, perhaps your words will. Secondly, he may be powerful, but you were his teacher. Chances are you"d still beat him in a fair fight. Thirdly, I"ll let you take away any four souls for Elysian Fields that will help you in your mission.”
Nestor stood dumbfounded and wondered if he was dreaming. This is the almighty wisdom of the gods? “With all due respect, I don"t think the math is right. Five mortals against seven gods?” “I won"t give you anymore, because if they see it upstairs, and believe me, they"re meticulous, you won"t get far,” she said. “Four souls to accompany you in your task. Then you"ll go to get the finest weapon and armour ever forged.”
“So, to Hephaestus?” asked Nestor, suddenly distrac ted. The finest, she said? Imagining himself clothed in fabulous armour and wielding an almighty sword for the moment, he almost forgot the seriousness of the situation.
“To Aphrodite,” said Thanatos, her serious tone ba nishing any chance that she was telling a feeble joke. Nestor was exhausted by this conversation. He didn"t understand anything about it, and his chances of success were slipping away by the moment. He had an impossible mission ahead of him, few partners, a weak plan and the first stop would be the goddess of love.I’d rather stay here, he thought, gazing longingly at the Fields and wondering what he"d done to deserve such a complicated task.
Twenty
When Nestor woke up, he felt two things. The stench of urine stinging his nostrils and a terrible pain in his wrists. He slowly opened his eyes. The last thing he remembered was the blood.
He couldn"t see much in his dark cell, but he didn"t have to think long about where he was. The pain in his hands and the metallic scrape he moved them meant he was in the dungeons.
“You"re finally awake, then, monster -lover,” said a hissing voice from the darkness. There was a sizzling noise and heat and light washed over him. Nestor closed his eyes against the sudden blinding light. Footsteps dashed over to him, heavy on the stone.
“Oh, no, no. You won"t close your eyes,” snarled a voice he knew. Nestoropened his eyes a fraction. “You"re going to look at what you did to me!” King Minos stood before him. His king grabbed Nestor by the face with his left hand, his grip iron.
“I gave you everything. You were almost a brother to me, and that"s how you repay me?” He held up a stump where his right hand used to be.
For a heartbeat, confusion gripped Nestor. Then it all came crashing back to him. He"d been in the tree, clutching the spear. Surely in his exhausted state, there was no way he could have cut off King Minos" hand clean off with it. Unless…
“My Lord, I –” “SILENCE!” Minos slapped him with his remaining hand. “You conspired with a god to kill me and take over! But for your misfortune, the most powerful of them is on my side.”
A second person in the cell shifted in the corner. He"d been hidden from the light, but he slid into focus. “Were it up to me, I would simply order your behea ding, take your titles, take your land, and give your wife a choice: to clean in the palace for the remainder of her days or die with you. But my father insisted that you would be useful to him.”
What does he mean? His father? the warrior thought. After all, Asterion had been dead for ten years. And my poor wife. Feba. What fate did I bring to you, my love?
The other man, silent so far, rose and walked towards him. Minos fell silent and moved away, his rage turning to respect. The figure stood before him and knelt before Nestor. He took off his hood, and the sight felt like a
Łukasz Konopczak dream. Nestor couldn"t speak. A neat tangle of grey h air and matching beard, flawless skin, and eyes of brightest blue. Kneeling in this cell was Zeus, god of sky and thunder.
“No, you aren"t dreaming,” said the god, his voice deep and rich. “You know who I am, so let"s set courtesy aside. I see all these events quite differently than my son does. You decided to save my grandson and to do that, you tried to kill Minos. Many would call that heroism, though in doing so, you mutilated him.”
Minos scowled, cradling his stump to his chest. “You also deprived me of my victim. That child was to be a sacrifice to me. The last one to do this was Prometheus, and I think you know he"s still suffering. I won"t punish you as severely as him, of course. I"ll use your talents. Of co
urse, for eternity,” Zeus smirked with undisguised satisfaction. “Besides, if you both had searched at the source of all this, that is, your wife, Minos, you would know that it would be enough to make a sacrifice for my brother, Poseidon.”
Neither Minos nor Nestor understood the latter. Nestor didn"t care about Zeus" ramblings. He had saved the child. The Minotaur lived.
One thing was bothering him, however. He screwed up the courage to speak. “Zeus, lord and god of thunder, my life belongs to you,” he said, bowing his head in respect. “But I beg you for one thing.”
Minos opened his mouth furiously, looking like he wanted to deliver Nestor another sharp slap for addressing a god so directly, but Zeus stopped him with a wave of his hand. Nestor continued. “I beg that my wife to stay safe and happy for the rest of her life. Please give her the opportunity to prepare a funeral.”
Zeus smiled and turned to his son. “You see? Heroism. He awaits eternal damnation, and yet he still thinks for others.” Minos scowled back as his father turned to Nestor. “You have my word. But for this request, I will add something to your punishment. I will turn you into someone like my grandson. I don"t know yet what, but it"ll include hooves.” He got up and left his cell, Minos trailing after him.
So I am to be cursed. Nestor lowered his head and wept. He cried for the last time in his life.
Twenty-one
There was a huge stir at Olympus. It hasn"t been so crowded for hundreds of years. The new king, Ares, called every major god and organised a great feast, the biggest that had been seen in millennia. The tables groaned under plates and bowls of food, from that which the local gods adored and ones that they had not yet tried or even seen. Heru, the god with the body of a man and the head of a falcon, provided lentils, dates, and bamboo seeds.
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