Queen's Ransom: The Golden Bulls of Minos

by Isabel Wroth

  *****

  "That wasn't smart, Jalia," Tom told her dryly, watching her as she paced back and forth in the center of the room.

  She spared him a look his statement deserved, but Tom didn't so much as blink.

  Jalia idly wondered if anything rattled Tom's cage but couldn't imagine what that thing might be.

  "You remember what I said, about telling a man like him, no?"

  "Of course, I remember," she snapped, spinning on her heel to pace the other way. "I just don't farking care. I can't stay here and be part of this barbaric culture.

  “Sit on a throne and condone unilateral punishments...he ordered children punished for their father's treasonous actions.

  “Babies, Tom. He ordered babies to be run through that death machine and sat up there to watch."

  "As far as barbaric cultures go, I've seen worse."

  Jalia whipped around to glare incredulously at her assassin-on-loan,

  "What?"

  "I've seen prisons full of the scum of the universe. They break the laws, over and over again, and as punishment, they're fed, housed, given free medical care.

  “Or, if they have the money to pay their fines, they get off with a slap on the wrist and have no fear of being caught again.

  "I found out that before Dhega was king, criminals caught within their provinces could run the labyrinth of the region, and if they survived, they were pardoned. Clean slate. If they broke the law again, they ran the same maze.

  "Then Dhega comes along and declares any who are caught breaking the laws of Minos will run the Red. It moves constantly. No way to cheat or memorize the path, and if by some miracle you do survive it, you're unlikely to come out without injury. If you survive the Red, you've earned your pardon.

  "Brutal? Sure. But in eighty years the crime rate has dropped, civil wars ended, and those people inclined to disregard the laws are so shit scared of him, of that death machine, they don't dare step out of line.

  “You ask me, he's doing a hell of a job, and if you think it doesn't bother him to watch, you're not paying close enough attention. So, you better brace,"

  "What?"

  "Brace," Tom repeated, "You will have absolute privacy, but I suggest you refrain from antagonizing him."

  "Him? Him who?" Jalia spluttered, and before she could process anything Tom had just told her, the doors to her room exploded open to reveal one frighteningly pissed off Minoan king.

  With his chin tipped at an angle, Dhega's horns were pointed directly at her, his eyes glittering with menace. He ordered Tom out without looking, crossing the room to her in a few long strides.

  Jalia's mouth went dry as he came to a stop in front of her, so close her breasts touched his chest.

  His golden eyes were flat and dangerous, his gaze broodingly dark as he searched her face.

  There was a ruthless edge to his expression that made the hairs on her nape stand up and quiver in warning.

  Without care for her own safety, Jalia said the first thing that came to mind.

  "What did I say about you barging into my quarters without permission?"

  Dhega blew out a harsh, aggressive breath, his seething anger charging the air between them, yet even enraged, the hands he shackled around her upper arms didn't bruise.

  He gripped her tight enough to impart the gravity of the situation, but not so tight as to hurt her.

  "When I send for you, you will come, Jalia."

  "Oh, I don't think so," she objected hotly, pushing at the immovable muscles of his chest, twisting to try and free herself.

  Dhega gave her the smallest of shakes, drawing her up on her toes as though he meant to kiss her, "I gave you three days of silence. Three days to gather your thoughts and decide if you will continue.

  "You have seen the worst of my world, and I hoped to balance it by showing you a softer side, giving you a few more days of respite, but you refuse me and send my guard back with a challenge I will not ignore.

  “You have something to say, Marchsea. Speak your mind. You have my undivided attention."

  *****

  Jalia looked up at him so defiantly, unafraid when anyone else would have been cowering, bowing and scraping, possibly crying. There was no denying how utterly beautiful she was to him.

  Exotic and rare, this little human held him spellbound. Dhega did not regret his choices or the commands he had given to ensure the stability of his rule.

  Could he have given less severe punishments to get the same result? Yes, and perhaps in the future, he would, but Jalia was passing judgment on things long since passed.

  Things that had happened before she had ever arrived and using them as fodder to fuel her fear of the role Dhega wanted her to take on.

  He held her on her toes to impart his unwillingness to release her, now or ever. Her anger sparked against his, and aside from her initial reaction to fight, she didn't struggle against him.

  She didn't rebuke him and push him away, call him a monster, command him to keep his blood-soaked hands off her.

  "I spent half my life learning to read other people in order to survive, and I don't know who you are," she blurted, "If you're the terrifying monster everyone says you are, or if that's who you choose to show the world, but deep down you're the man who taught me to swim.

  “Who sat by my bedside to make sure I recovered after nearly dying at Islingrane, or if you're the emotionless overlord who sits upon his throne to dispassionately observe his people clamor for blood and violence.

  "The Red Labyrinth is the most insane thing I've ever seen, and I could not believe how the mob cheered to hear those boys crying and screaming in fear.

  “No matter what they did, how horrible their crimes might be, I'm not strong enough to sit there and pretend it doesn't bother me the way you can."

  Dhega's anger faded, reassured she didn't immediately blame him for upholding the laws of his world, but she was mistaken if she thought he was unmoved by anything that happened within the labyrinth.

  "I am intimately aware of the evils of the Red, Jalia, and believe me, the sight of it sickens me. I was born in the palace and lived within the walls of Antaeus until I was twelve summers old.

  “I ran the Red three times before the people accepted me, saved only because I remembered Daegana imparting its secrets to his son. To my father. Daegana thought me too young, too stupid to understand or remember."

  He understood this was a crucial moment between them, and as determined as he was that this human become his queen, she needed to understand.

  That day at the beach, despite fearing his reaction or what he might think, Jalia had trusted him with the truth of her past.

  The time had come for him to do the same. To trust in her. She needed to know things about him very few alive knew.

  "My sire challenged Daegana for his place as prince of Antaeus and died inside the jaws of the Red Labyrinth.

  “Daegana allowed my mother and I to remain in shame, but she no longer held any status within the herd and was given the lowest menial chores in the household.

  “No one was allowed to speak to her; she received no help from anyone but me, no kindness. She died in an accident when I was only six summers, and my fore-sire explained I would only be offered food and a palate to sleep on if I proved to be a valuable member of the house.

  "Daegana laughed me out of his study when I told him I would run the labyrinths and finish what my father started. The ring in my nose? It's how we mark those who are outcast or without a herd to claim them.

  “Daegana's warriors caught me as I was leaving the palace to embark on the same journey you now take. They held me down and pierced me with a crude piece of metal, so all would know I was alone and had no one."

  Jalia was looking at him now, her eyes huge in her face as she listened silently. She was trembling, but there was compassion in her touch when she placed her palms flat on his chest.

  He hurried to tell her all, aware at any moment she would remember he w
as no innocent and jerk away before he sullied her.

  "Daegana was not the only one to doubt I would survive, nor the loudest to protest when I emerged from the Labyrinth of Darkness and challenged him for his seat.

  “Daegana refused and ordered his guard to throw me from the palace, threatening to force me to run the Red if I ever came back.

  "I went to Persis—the then king—asking for justice, and he told me even though I had completed the Nine, I was lucky to have been allowed to run at all.

  “He offered me the seat of Myrminth instead and told me to be grateful. Myrminth is the smallest, most isolated province on the planet. There is a palace there, but it's completely deserted.

  “The land is mostly rock, cut off from any civilization due to a landslide that happened during a massive storm. Crops don't grow there, and there is no water except what comes from the sky.

  "It was an insult, and everyone present knew it. I challenged Persis that day in front of his subjects, knowing he could refuse no one. Not even the lowest member of the herd.

  “As I ran the Red, I knew the circumstances of my birth and my father's failure would dictate how my subordinates would treat me.

  "They would not love me or be pleased to have me as their king. I would be given no favor, no respect without fear.

  “I learned at my fore-sire's knee how to be brutal, swift to mete out punishments that would ensure no one would even consider making the same mistakes or dare to challenge me.

  “I killed those who stood in my way when I ran the labyrinths. I sentenced so many to death after it's a small wonder I don't wake up drowning in blood."

  For a long time she didn't answer, lost to her thoughts, but she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and turned her cheek to his chest, seeking comfort from him rather than pushing away in disgust.

  She hugged him tighter when he hesitated to return her embrace. Not because he didn't want to, but because he was shocked by her reaction to the story of his rise to the throne.

  Moved beyond understanding, Dhega cupped a hand around the back of her head, his other arm circling her waist.

  He had never held a female this way before, and wondered if he had, would it have felt as though he were cuddling the most precious and rare of them? Or was it just Jalia that made him feel so profoundly when for too many years to count, he had felt nothing at all?

  Her hands worked at his pelt, digging deep until she reached skin, kneading at the fur in the most maddeningly arousing way.

  "Your culture, your system of justice? I don't belong here, Dhega. Your grandfather wasn't wrong. I don't have the stomach for it."

  "Then help me change it," he murmured into her hair, inhaling her intoxicating scent, wondering perhaps if she had some sort of addictive pheromones that affected him so strangely.

  "What?" The shock and amazement in her voice made him smile and drained the last vestiges of angry tension from his body, leaving behind something far more intense.

  Pure, undeniable lust.

  Dhega tangled his fingers in her dark green tresses, gently urging her to tip her head back. Her gaze moved over him speculatively, drawing him in, heightening his awareness.

  "Minos will cease to be if change is not made. Not today, perhaps not during my reign, but the worlds beyond our nebula are more advanced, and if what Nivir tells me is true, ever expanding.

  “I'm asking you to look beyond what's happening now, beyond the challenges of the labyrinth, to what life here could be."

  Already having given her more of himself than he had anticipated, Dhega was too stubborn to give her the rest.

  He asked her to imagine what her life could be like here, but what he wanted was for her to imagine a life with him and come to crave it so desperately she was willing to overlook the monster.

  "I'll try," she finally murmured, still staring up at him as though trying to see into his mind for whatever answers it was she needed.

  "Good. Now, come to dinner."

  *****

  Time had no meaning within the Labyrinth of Mirrors. Once she stepped past the first door, everywhere she looked she saw her reflection staring back at her with infinite faces.

  Even standing perfectly still, Jalia was so disoriented she was dizzy and off balance. The maze was located beneath the palace, mirrors set between towering pillars that stretched all the way up to the vaulted ceiling, which was also mirrored.

  The white marble floor was smooth and perfect, not a single pattern or flaw to identify the optical illusion, and the more she tried to visually distinguish the path, the more confused she felt. The more claustrophobic.

  Phelestes cautioned them not to touch the mirrors. They were electrified and would provide one hell of a shock. She could hear the soft hum of the power source, feel the static on the air, vibrating off the surface of the glass the closer she got.

  A shiver worked through her, and it wasn't because she was nervous. It was cold as hell down here. Cold enough for her to see her breath fog in front of her.

  A slow smile stretched across her face, her reflection showing a woman with a mischievous, triumphant grin on her face. Jalia carefully approached the mirrors, leaning in as close as she dared to blow a warm breath across the glass.

  Her image blurred, and so she moved on to the next panel, then the next, until her breath simply steamed the air in front of her. With further investigation, it appeared there was only one exit from each section, which meant there was only one path.

  Jalia made it through five archways before she had to stop and take a break, dizzy from the deep inhales and exhales to find the open doorways.

  She couldn't tell how long it took her, but finally, she reached the center and on a crystal pedestal sat a silver bowl filled with pale blue stones.

  She took one and hurried to retrace her steps, huffing and puffing her way through her own endless reflections.

  "Four down, six to go,"

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Entayta and Axtasusa both completed the Labyrinth of Mirrors without injury, and so they moved on to Myonaea, home to the Labyrinth of Tears.

  Up until this point, the planet of Minos had been almost tropical in climate. Warm, balmy, humid even. The mountainous region their party found themselves in now was glacial in comparison, and never having seen snow before, Jalia was in awe.

  Freezing her awed ass off, but amazed.

  Every breath burned her lungs, but she couldn't stop taking the searingly cold air in as deep as she could. The smell was wonderfully strange, but if asked to name the fragrance or identify a specific scent, Jalia wouldn't have been able to.

  She snuggled deeper into the hood of thick cloak she had wrapped around her.

  The measurements of it, the way it fit, the deep hood that had no holes or slits for the horns she didn't have, suggested it had been made especially for her.

  The wine red, fur lined garment had been sitting at the end of her bed when she'd awoken this morning.

  Tom claimed no knowledge of it and seemed quite put out by the fact someone had gotten by him last night.

  From the way Dhega had given her a quick, very male, very satisfied glance when he caught sight of her wearing it, Jalia was certain he was responsible, but Tom hadn't left her side since.

  If she was being entirely honest, Jalia was surprised by how well Tom had stuck to his role. He hadn't been paid in full yet, and still he treated her like...well, like a queen.

  If she survived the contest, Tom was going to get whatever he wanted.

  "Ah, finally. Myonaea, the House of Mothers." Kalphius groaned, chaffing his bare hands together, blowing into his cupped palms to warm them.

  Beside him, Jansus gave a baleful glare at the pile of snow covering his boots.

  "Don't know what you're so excited for. Not like we'll get a warm welcome from Antehe or her Ice Maidens."

  Jalia squinted through the flurry of snow at the blocky palace barely distinguishable between the ice and stone.

 
It was half the size of the other palaces they had visited, less artistically beautiful and more form for function. Four tall towers supported a large third and fourth story level, the first and second open in the center to allow their transport to move through to an open courtyard.

  The outer facade glittered, glistened a little and seemed to be illuminated from within, making it appear almost fantastical.

  "Is it made of ice?" Entayta asked, wearing her own plain white cloak.

  "No. It is the same as all the other palaces. Built from a white stone from somewhere on the continent." Kalphius answered.

  "Somewhere? You don't know where the stone for your own palaces comes from?" Axtasusa grunted, blowing a rude sound to get rid of the snow building up on her face.

  Axtasusa was the only one not wearing a cloak, steam wafting from her, seemingly unaffected by the cold.

  Kalphius spread his hands to encompass the palace around them,

  "Our historians have searched over the years for a quarry but have found no such place yet where the stone could have come from. We believe the Rir brought it with them to Minos."

  The transport pulled to a stop finally, and only after all the councilors and princes had leapt out to stretch did Jalia get up, smiling thankfully to Dhega when he held his hand out to help her step down.

  He gave her a warm squeeze before letting go, allowing him to offer the same assistance to Entayta, though Axtasusa hopped down without even looking, the snow giving a hearty crunch beneath her enormous feet.

  Jalia took in her surroundings, noticing that once there had been some kind of crest or decorative engraving above the beautifully carved doors, but it had been scraped away and replaced with crude lettering out of place among the austere facade of the palace.

  Her Uni-Trans made it so she was able to speak and understand every verbal language in the known universe, but it didn't allow her to read it.

  "What does it say?" she asked no one in particular.

  The female voice who answered was colder than the air around them.

  "I am, because of the women before me."

  So far, the women of Minos had been nothing but kind and smiling. The one who had appeared out of thin air looked like she hadn't ever laughed a day in her life.