“I have to confess,” said Ovid, “that this is quite difficult to believe. Surely there should have been some mention of you?”
“No,” said Ast. “The deeds Theseus and I accomplished together have been altered to suit.” He thought for a moment. “I can see that you doubt me now. That you doubt my honesty. Is there something I can do that will prove what I say is true? That I am who I say I am?”
“I doubt that very much,” said Ovid with a note of scorn in his voice. “What evidence could possibly remain after all this time?”
Ast said nothing. He rose to his feet and disappeared into the adjacent room. When he returned, he was carrying a cloth wrapped bundle. He set it down on the table between them.
“Open it,” he said.
Ovid didn’t move for a moment. He had no idea what lay concealed amongst the cloth wrappings. Suddenly, he felt a little afraid. With nervous fingers, he picked up the bundle and cautiously opened it.
His mouth fell open when he saw what was revealed.
“Do you believe now?” asked Ast.
Ovid steadied himself with a gulp of wine. For once, words had abandoned him. He nodded slowly.
“Now can I continue please?”
Ovid nodded again but he found it hard to concentrate on the papyrus before him, his eyes constantly drawn to the object sitting on the table.
It was an ancient helmet, smeared with the grime of accumulated centuries. A mask was bound to it, hanging off to one side. The face of a bull stared out at him. But it wasn’t just that. Two holes were bored through the helmet, holes where horns had once been. The holes were exactly the same size as the marks that Ovid had seen on Ast’s head.
Ω
Our path became more difficult, often overgrown with shrubs and weeds. Slowly, we followed a steep dirt trail that wove up into the hills, forcing us to revise our schedule. It was going to take much longer than I’d thought to reach Athens.
Food was scarce. Even with our supplies bolstered by Periphetes, we were still on the verge of starvation. Theseus wasn’t as good with the sling as he’d boasted, only managing to bring down one small rabbit, which we roasted over the fire and devoured eagerly. I started to daydream about food.
We had to have our wits about us though. The uneven terrain, heavily wooded with thick pine trees, had a tendency to conceal sudden drop offs that would plunge a careless traveler to their deaths.
Theseus tried to lighten the mood and pass the time by telling me stories of his childhood adventures. He was, in all fairness, quite the entertaining storyteller. Most of his tales seemed a little farfetched but I never suggested they were anything other than the truth for fear of offending him.
I said little, still dwelling on the death I’d caused. I knew that Theseus was right—that killing Periphetes was the right thing to do—but it was a hard thing to let go of. Having a death on your hands is not an easy thing to bear. It doesn’t get easier either.
It was hot. Not a cloud in the sky. The sun blazed down, evaporating the sweat from our skin almost before it had time to cool us. We were running short of water too, having last filled our water skins at a stream over a day earlier. They were now all but empty save for a few precious drops.
As well as my new club, I carried the satchel of food and water. Theseus had his sword, shield, and spear. I was impressed by his stamina and started to appreciate how hard it must be for soldiers to bear forced marches, day after day, loaded down with weapons and armor. By contrast, Theseus and I were travelling light.
I was glad Theseus forced me to wear Periphetes’s sandals. At first, I had resisted, but after picking several thorns out of my heels, I decided to relent. Periphetes had been a large man but his sandals were still too small for me. My toes stuck out, and I stubbed them several times, but the sandals were better than bare feet.
We stopped for a rest, sinking wearily onto a warm bed of needles beneath a cluster of pines.
“How far do you think we’ve come?” I asked. Even though I had covered the geography of Greece with Daedalus and my knowledge was fairly-broad, it was not enough to give me any idea of where we were. Theseus had much more detailed local knowledge.
He thought for a moment. “I think we’ve probably walked ten leagues.”
I was surprised. I thought we’d travelled further than that, but I was rather inexperienced in such matters. It didn’t seem like much.
“How long until we reach the next city?”
“We’ve been walking for three days. I’d guess another two to reach Ismthmia. We could travel a bit further north and get to Corinth but that’s a little out of our way. Ismthmia will have everything we need.”
Two more days. I hoped our water would hold out. Even though our energy reserves were low, we were unlikely to starve before we reached the nearest city. Water was the real problem.
Too exhausted and hot to talk further, we lapsed into silence. I began to think about food again. No doubt Theseus had similar thoughts.
Suddenly, the silence was broken by the quick slap of sandals on earth. People were heading in our direction, and they were in a hurry. We jumped to our feet.
Down the path came several figures: an ancient man, two older children running on foot, and three women, the eldest carrying a small child. Their eyes widened in fright when they caught sight of us. They made as if to turn around and retreat the way they had come.
“Peace,” said Theseus. “We mean you no harm.” I think his handsome smiling face went some way to reassure them, especially when two of the women were not much older than us. They smiled tentatively back at him. Theseus often made a good impression with members of the opposite sex. Unlike me.
The group of travelers eyed me nervously, but the presence of Theseus calmed them. Although still obviously alarmed, they made no move to get past us.
“What troubles you?” asked Theseus. “Why the haste?”
“It’s my husband, eldest daughter, and my two older sons,” said the mother. She began to sob. “We were set upon by bandits. My husband told us to flee while he and my sons fought them. They grabbed my daughter. We heard screams behind us. I fear the worst.”
“We will deal with these brigands,” said Theseus, sounding overconfident to my ears. “We will find your husband, daughter, and sons and return them to you safely.”
“Thank you,” sniffed the woman, wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her dress. “Please be careful. I think they were many, and there are only two of you.”
“Yes, but we are two heroes,” said Theseus, puffing out his chest. He hefted his shield and sword with a swagger. The two younger women looked him up and down with bright eyes.
The woman gave us directions and we were about to head off when she stopped us.
“What is your name?” she asked. “So I might tell tales of your bravery.”
“Theseus,” he said, “and this is my companion, Asterion.” She seemed satisfied by that.
“Theseus,” she said. “I will remember. May the gods be with you.”
Theseus strode off with me travelling in his wake. With only a moment’s hesitation, I fixed my faceplate into place with the leather thong. In a fight, it might terrify an opponent long enough to give me an advantage.
Theseus turned to make sure I was keeping up. His face betrayed his fear for a moment before being replaced with a grim smile. He nodded. “Excellent. You scared me for a moment though. I would not like to face the likes of you in battle.”
We reached the spot described by the woman. Even though Theseus and I were hardly skilled in tracking and woodcraft, we could still tell that a scuffle had taken place. The shrubs were beaten down and several footprints led off the path, deeper into the trees.
Cautiously, we followed them. Shortly, we came across a clearing. Even from this distance, we could hear weeping and cries of pain. We crept closer, hugging the ground, trying not to make a sound.
I have never
been able to move quietly. My sheer size makes it all but impossible. Theseus, on the other hand, moved like a ghost, his passage hardly disturbing the undergrowth or needles beneath his feet. Thankfully, there was enough noise coming from the clearing to mask our approach.
A quick glance into the clearing confirmed that we were well and truly outnumbered. There appeared to be six bandits. Those we could see at any rate. Three figures, presumably the daughter and sons of the woman we spoke to, lay on the ground not far from the remains of a campfire. They seemed to be bound, hand and foot. One of them wasn’t moving. Three men stood guard over them.
The bandits had built a lean-to, using the hide of a deer as a makeshift doorway. Next to it, two smaller pine trees had been bent almost to the ground, held in position by ropes and stakes. The trees were facing each other with just enough room between them to put a man.
A man was being forced to his knees by a huge bandit while two other bandits were binding his wrists to the bent pine trees. I didn’t like the look of what they were doing.
Before we could act, the bandits finished their bonds and took positions on either side of the pines. The bandit in the middle stepped back and nodded to his fellows. Ignoring the pleading and screams of their prisoner, they drew blades, simultaneously cutting the ropes securing the pines to the ground.
The result was horrifying, sickening. The trees, no longer bound, sprung back into their normal upright position. The man trapped between them was torn apart. I felt bile rise in my throat, and it was only through great force of will that I didn’t throw up.
The huge bandit laughed. Moving toward the three younger prisoners on the ground, he yanked the girl to her feet and began dragging her into the lean-to by her hair. His intentions were clear.
“Enjoy yourself, Sinis!” laughed one of the other bandits.
“I will,” said the huge bandit. “Fresh meat. Young too, just the way I like them.”
“Save some for us,” said another bandit. “That’s if she still lives.”
I felt a rage growing within my breast. I didn’t completely agree with Theseus, but these bandits deserved to die.
“What’s our plan?” I whispered, the sound muffled by my faceplate.
“Simple,” said Theseus. “We kill the bandits and free their prisoners.”
“Not much of a plan,” I grumbled.
“Whilst we debate, more innocents will die.” He was right. Even as we whispered together, the bandits were leading a young man toward the blood-splattered trees. The trees had already been bent back into position once more. “What do you suggest?” hissed Theseus impatiently, struggling not to raise his voice.
“Some tactics,” I offered. “Maybe one of us creates a distraction while the other frees the prisoners? That’s if they’re still alive.”
Theseus narrowed his eyes. “Agreed,” he said. “You do the freeing, I’ll create the distraction.”
Quickly, he crawled further around the campsite, making no discernible sound. I had a sudden thought, scattering the pine needles and pawing at the earth around beneath me. I unearthed a couple of large stones that I had felt under my body and hefted them in my free hand.
Suddenly Theseus sprung up from cover, clashing his spear against his shield. “Oi! You loincloth sniffers!” he yelled. “Let’s see how you go against a real man.”
The sound and his sudden appearance caused the bandits to flinch. Their surprise lasted for only a moment. Yelling, three of them immediately charged toward him, brandishing a variety of weapons.
Theseus, fleet of foot, darted into the trees and disappeared. The three bandits set off in pursuit.
I made my move. Approaching as quickly and as stealthily as I could, I reached the edge of the clearing. I needn’t have bothered. The bandits were already on high alert and didn’t look surprised by my sudden appearance. I suspect a charging bull would’ve made less noise. Three bandits remained—the huge man known as Sinis and two others.
Sinis released his grip on the woman’s hair and pulled out a sword, striding toward me. His companions weren’t so keen. I’m certain my huge size, massive club slung over one shoulder, and my bull’s helm unnerved them somewhat. They approached more uncertainly.
It didn’t matter. I was still outnumbered, but this time, I kept a tree to my back to offer some protection from an attack in that direction. I dropped one of the stones to the ground and squeezed the other firmly. Taking aim, I hurled the first rock at the nearest assailant—Sinis. He ducked, and the rock sailed harmlessly over his head.
Cursing silently, I quickly picked up the other. I chose one of the other bandits instead and threw my last remaining rock with all the strength I could muster. Fortune finally smiled on me. The rock hit him squarely on the forehead, dropping him to the ground like a sack of wheat.
I brought my huge club down off my shoulder and readied myself. Dismayed, the other smaller bandit backed off.
“Get him!” roared Sinis. As fearsome as I was, I suspected the smaller bandit was more scared of Sinis. Instead of fleeing, which he clearly wanted to do, he approached me tentatively, his sword outstretched.
I didn’t need another invitation. The sword was too easy a target. I swept my club down and shattered his sword. Sharp fragments sliced through the air, one whistling past my neck. One of the fragments struck the bandit in the eye. With a howl of pain, he tumbled to his knees.
One on one then. Much better odds. I squared up against Sinis. He was almost as massive as I, with a bull’s neck and shoulders large enough to lift boulders. He eyed me evilly and charged. Not wanting to kill, I didn’t see how I could avoid it this time. I couldn’t risk disarming my opponent. He was clearly too powerful for that. Besides, I was probably too clumsy. I had gotten lucky with the other two bandits—there was no way I could pull it off a third time.
Sinis roared and stabbed with his sword. Despite his size, he was remarkably quick. I attempted to parry with my club, but I was much too slow. Not only that, but I was tired and hungry. I had very little energy left—certainly insufficient to move fast enough to block.
I felt a burning pain in my side. Sinis withdrew his sword. It had my blood on its point. He grinned at me, sensing victory. He had my measure by now. He knew that I was slow with the club. Sure, on a good day, I would have bested him, but this was not one of those days. Now that I was injured, it was only a matter of time before he wore me down.
Confident, Sinis went in for the kill, darting in close and aiming for my neck. It was a foolish move, arrogant even. The blow was so obvious even a child could see it coming. It was, however, a move designed to nullify my club. By moving in so close, I simply didn’t have room to swing it. Sinis knew it; I knew it. I couldn’t bring my club up in time.
So I didn’t. I dropped my club instead and crouched down under the sword stroke. It sliced the air above my head, narrowly missing my horns. I lowered my head and with an ear splitting roar, I charged. Sinis was too close. He had no room to dodge. Frantically, he tried anyway. Tried and failed. My horns speared him in the stomach, driving in deep.
A lesser man probably would have died, but Sinis was certainly not a lesser man. His strength and endurance were almost equal to my own. I suspected that he had divine or even titan blood running through his veins.
At first, he tried to hammer his sword hilt against my helm. When that didn’t work, he dropped his sword, got a solid wrestlers grip around my neck, and began to squeeze. I, in turn, wrapped my arms around him, forcing my horns in deeper. So deep in fact that his body was pressed up hard against my helm. It didn’t seem to matter. Sinis’s strength seemed to have no limits.
Roaring with rage, I lifted him from his feet. He twisted, forcing my neck sideways. Off balance, we both toppled to the ground. He landed on top of me, driving the wind from my lungs and freeing himself from my horns.
He used my momentary breathlessness to press his advantage, tightening his grip. I began to s
ee bright sparks before my eyes as lack of air began to affect my vision. I suspected that Sinis had me.
Just before I began to black out, however, I felt him starting to weaken. Blood loss was beginning to take its toll. Not that I was in any better shape. The wound in my side hurt badly, and I could hardly breathe. But I was still alive, and where there is life, there is hope.
Rallying, I unclasped my hands from around his waist, breaking his grip around my neck. I grabbed him by the throat and began to squeeze. He flailed against my hands, hitting my armored face, anything he could to dislodge my grip. But it was useless.
He was almost unconscious when his eyes went suddenly wide. He looked down, terror etched over his face as he saw a spear point protruding from his chest. He stared at me for a moment, confused, and then collapsed to the ground. Gurgling sounds came from his throat. Somehow, he still lived.
Wearily, I lurched to my knees and looked up. Theseus was standing above me, his spear point dripping blood. His eyes were wild, and there was a splattering of blood on his face. Dropping his spear and picking up Sinis’s sword, he grabbed the huge man by the hair and dragged him toward the pine trees.
Suddenly I realized what he intended. I still tell myself that I was too injured and exhausted to stop him, but perhaps the truth is that I really didn’t want to stop him. In my heart, I knew that Sinis was getting what he deserved. It didn’t mean that it was right though. No man should have to die that way.
Theseus dragged Sinis in between the trees. The bandit leader was too far gone to protest. Almost dead. Almost, but not quite. Swiftly, Theseus bound each of Sinis’s wrists to the pines. Then, drawing his own sword with his right hand and with Sinis’s sword in his left, he swept both blades down simultaneously.
The effect was just as gruesome as it had been the first time we witnessed it. Sinis would never again trouble innocent travelers.
Chapter 10
Directly after this event, I didn’t know what to say to Theseus. I didn’t thank him, probably because I had nothing to thank him for. Although he didn’t know it, I had already defeated Sinis before the spear had entered his chest.
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