The Maze of Minos

by Tammie Painter

  It stops chewing on the bars and stares at me with black eyes that seem to glow red as they reflect the sunlight. They remind me of lava when the outer surface cools to obsidian black as portions below continue to shift and shine like molten fire. The body is that of a man, a huge man at least double my height and girth without any hint of fat covering the rippling muscles. But its head— Dear gods, its head. I was wrong in my assessment earlier, even my nightmares couldn’t come up with something like this. Its head is that of a bull, but with none of the bovine calm that lurks behind the eyes of even the meanest animal. This monster has the appearance of a bull with the hungry stare of a lion and the expression of a viciously cunning man.

  "What is this?" I ask, more to myself than to Pasiphae.

  "A secret only the Council and a select few in Aryana know about. He is the child of a god who, like you, wouldn’t take no for an answer," she says loud enough for those around to hear.

  "Ares lets him do away with any weak children that are born in Aryana. We all know how Ares won’t keep anyone around who can’t fight for his polis. It never had a name, but now that he has a use I think we should call him Minotaur."

  "Monster of Minos," Ariadne says, translating the ancient word in a whisper of disbelief.

  "Yes, it’s the name we’ve been spreading across Osteria since you abused me."

  I want to protest that I did not harm her, but this is not the time to argue. I need answers. I need to keep my kingdom safe. Only after that can I waste time worrying about clearing my name.

  "You still have not answered me: Why will this mutant make other Osterians despise me?"

  Pasiphae smiles. It’s not a friendly smile. It’s not even attractive. It’s cruel and full of menace.

  "Because it must be fed."

  "We have livestock."

  She makes that tut-tut sound again and shakes her head as she waggles a finger before me. "Oh no, Minos. Your monster will not be happy with animal flesh. He has never developed a taste for it. Unless he’s starving, he refuses it, and he gets quite angry when he’s hungry. Your new pet needs human meat or he will go wild. What do you think we Areans do with all those boys who aren’t tough enough to make it through my polis’s rigorous vigile training?"

  The beast slams into its bars again, snarling like a rabid dog.

  "You cannot do this," I say, but my words sound hollow.

  "Who will protect you? The Twelve? The poli? You know neither come to the aid of kingdoms. It’s the price you pay for abandoning the gods."

  "You still cannot force us to accept this creature," Ariadne says and I’m grateful that her voice possesses far more certainty than I feel. By now the braver and more curious Minoans, perhaps realizing the monster in the train is behind a sturdy set of bars, have started milling around trying to catch a glimpse of what has been making such a racket. I want to tell them to get back, that it’s not safe. Then I wonder if we’ll ever be safe again with such corrupt council members in power.

  "I can. And do you know how? Because if you do not accept my delivery, I will open those bars and let the minotaur loose amongst your people. So, unless you plan to tell this little group behind us to flee and to lock themselves in their homes for the rest of their days, you will take ownership of my child. Unless you’d like to tell your people that you’ve doomed Minoa because you couldn’t control your lust."

  As the crowd behind me inches closer, the guards are forced to stand nearer to the cage. Just as they are about to raise their weapons to push the people back, the minotaur charges at his enclosure. The heavily muscled, enormous body barrels into the iron, but not until his head is fully visible do the people behind me scream. The horns are as long as my arm and as sharp as any miner’s pick. A horn stabs through the bars and catches one of Pasiphae’s guards in the arm, piercing through at least half the thickness of the man’s massive bicep. Just as the guard tries to pull away, a move that would leave a gaping, but clean hole, the monster twists his head. Tendons snap as they break under the force. A ragged chunk of muscle rips from the man’s upper arm.

  He falls to the platform screaming in pain and I catch a flash of white bone before blood gushes over it. The minotaur lets out a bellow that not only carries the animal sound of rage, but also a hint of something entirely human: mocking laughter. Within his cage he uses a massive hand to peel the muscle off his horn then tosses the meat into his mouth. The guard’s bicep is gone in less than a heartbeat.

  The group behind me stampedes to get away from the monster. My monster.

  Ariadne drops to her knees to staunch the man’s bleeding with an improvised tourniquet made of his cloak.

  "And what am I to do with him?" I am thinking primarily of what I will feed him. I can scour Osteria for any blood crimers who have been sentenced to be sent under, but murder is a rare crime and I know there are not enough of the convicted to keep the minotaur fed for long. I think of the Middish, but even though they are uncivilized bands of thieves who are nothing but a pain in many an Osterian side, I cannot allow my vigiles to hunt them down for fodder.

  "There are rumors that your great-grandfather gave a young architect his first commission: to build a prison under the palace with no cells, only a network of mazes that force the convicted to lose their way for years," Pasiphae says. I hadn’t even considered where I would keep the monster. Of course he can’t be kept in a corral like a normal bull. There is something about the way he looks at us that speaks of cunning. He would eventually be able to escape anything but the most secure prison. I don’t know how Pasiphae knows of the maze but she is right; it is the only place to keep him well away from my people.

  "And how long do you propose I keep him there?" I ask.

  "He will be your guest until you agree." She steps in closer to me. I don’t back away, not because I want to be near her, but because I refuse to be cowered by this bully of a woman. "The Council needs your support and if we can’t have it, we will ensure your kingdom is destroyed."

  "What’s to stop me from killing him myself?"

  "You have a weakness," she says, stepping back and evaluating me. "You have a soft heart for misunderstood creatures. This minotaur is too much like your bulls; you won’t kill him. I’d bet you’re already plotting ways to keep him fed and comfortable rather than planning how to destroy him. And before you go too far down that road, know that poison won’t work. I tried that years ago. Besides, if you kill him, it will be seen as an attack on the Council and we will have to fight back. And if you think the poli will help, just remember that most of Osteria sees rape as akin to blood crime, especially when a leader such as yourself abuses his power over a guest."

  I refuse to argue with her. We both know what happened that night and we both know how willing she was to do more.

  "He can be fed criminals. Or Areans, who are no better than criminals."

  "Not a bad plan, but you won’t get off that easily. You don’t understand, do you? The Council sees you as a threat. They don’t know what you’re up to out here. Ares wants your forces for his own, so I’ve provided the Council with the list of demands you made me take with me when you kicked me out of your kingdom."

  My mind swims. She has trapped both me and the Council in a web of lies for her and for Ares’s own gain. "What in the name of the gods have you told them?"

  "You’re a madman. You have been researching Pre-Disaster technology, mainly their weaponry. You want all of Osteria and you have made it clear you have the means to do away with entire cities. If the poli want to stay safe they can either submit everything to Minoa or they can pay a tax to you. To keep you from unleashing your weapon of horror on them, every twelve days one of the twelve poli must send twelve of their citizens to appease you. Your demands make it clear that they cannot send the old or the feeble or blood crimers. They must send their young, the citizens who are on the verge of starting their lives."

  "Why would they agree to this?"

  "Because although they deal
with you, they also fear you. Sheep will believe what they don’t understand. They know how advanced you are. Just look at your buildings." She gestures upward with her bony arm. "No other polis, no other kingdom has buildings anywhere near this tall because they don’t understand the engineering principles your people do. We have told the poli that you have come up with a weapon that could devastate them, that unless they agree to your demands, you will unleash this weapon on them without mercy. They have been told that the minotaur is just one experiment you have in your bag of evil tricks. After all, what have you been doing with your bulls all these years? The poli dwellers will accept the deal at first, but then they will come to hate you. Eventually they will take their revenge and they will kill you and they will tear your kingdom apart to get to this creature. Then, Minoa will be ours."

  I laugh. I have to laugh. This is illogical nonsense.

  "This is ridiculous. The poli know I am their friend. They wouldn’t believe a decree such as that. And why would I want their young? It’s preposterous. Ariadne," I call. She has kept a firm hand on the guard’s arm. He has passed out, but a medic arrived while I was talking to Pasiphae and a sturdier tourniquet has now slowed the flow of blood to a trickle. "If that guard is in good hands, let’s go get something to eat. Pasiphae’s idiocy has returned my appetite to me."

  Ariadne checks the man’s arm again. It will have to be amputated, but he will not bleed to death. Although, given the Arean distaste for weakness or disfigurement, he will probably be put to death before he can ever return home. But that is not my problem. Just as I am about to turn my back, Pasiphae says, "Guards, show him what is in the other carriage."

  My stomach drops at her cruel, haughty tone. It is the tone of someone who has held onto a trump card and knows they cannot be beat. The door to the cargo carriage behind the one the minotaur is in slides open. This carriage also houses a cage, but this cage holds no monster. The people inside raise their hands to their eyes to block out the bright Minoan sunlight. Even through their squinting eyes and dirty faces I can see these are healthy youths of about eighteen years of age. Depending on what profession they have qualified for, many of them will either have just completed their training or are midway through. Once their eyes adjust to the light, they look about. When they see me, some begin hurling curses my way, while others plead for mercy. Their voices are hoarse as if they’ve been yelling the entire journey. A few of the young men spit at me, but their attempts don’t last long and I wonder if they’ve been given any water on their journey.

  I turn back to Pasiphae. Her gloating expression makes me want to slap her, but with the accusations she has up her sleeve like a hidden dagger, I don’t dare make any aggressive move toward her.

  "Twelve Demosians," she says with a broad smile. "Top of their class. All fit and in perfect health. Some I dare say probably haven’t even been bedded. Priam is so quick to follow orders and the Demosians are always so meek, he thinks these twelve will spare him any confrontation."

  "I could just set them free. Let the minotaur starve."

  "I and my guards will be here for every delivery. We will ensure the victims get to your maze. We will stay until the minotaur finds them all. If you rebel, for freeing any of these sacrificial lambs will be seen as an act of rebellion, the Osteria Council will take it as an act of war." She hands me a sealed envelope. "These are the rules of the game. You’ll see they’re quite fair. And if anyone can kill my son," she says lightly as if she knows her monstrous child could never be defeated, "your kingdom may indeed survive. But I wouldn’t count on it. The poli will hate you after this."

  I take the envelope. My mind is drowning. I have been tricked. I am now trapped into this or I will throw my kingdom into war. I’m so confused as to how this could be happening that I can think of no argument, no way to win. One of the young women begins to sob and I know it will not be the last tear shed in Osteria today. I cannot grant my forces to the Council. If I do, how many will die? At least with the minotaur, I know only a limited number of people will be killed before the poli take up arms against me. Let them fight me straight on, not like this. Surely they won’t send any more than these twelve.

  "Guards," Pasiphae orders, "move the cage to the maze and then the prisoners. The minotaur is hungry."

  With the rattle of the cage being removed from the carriage, I know I have failed. I don’t know exactly when the total collapse will come, but I know my kingdom is at its end.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Poseidon

  MY WHISTLING FILLS the halls of Olympus. Whistling. Over a mortal. Who would have thought it? But Medusa isn’t just any mortal. She is beyond beautiful, beyond charming, beyond— Words simply cannot describe her. I want this tantalizing Athenian priestess so much, and with Athena away from her polis tending to some diplomatic efforts with the Amazonians, Medusa has had plenty of time to raise my interest. Raise it, that is, without fully satisfying it. I could force her I suppose, but by Hades, pursuing her is so exciting. I wet my lips and start to whistle another spur-of-the-moment tune, but my melody is cut off when I turn the corner to the common room.

  "Do something," Demeter yells the moment I enter the vast space. I raise a hand to deflect the handful of seeds she hurls at my face. Hermes, standing to her side, instinctively flinches even though he’s in no danger of a seedy assault. What’s gotten her so wound up? Demeter is typically so calm, so able to ignore any strife. I chuckle at her outburst. In my good mood it's fascinating to see the amount of color anger brings to her normally pale face.

  The other gods that had been idling away in the common room—Dionysus, Aphrodite, Artemis, and Apollo—look up from their game. Without a word to one another, they set down their cards at the same time, ready to enjoy their front row seats to the drama that is about to unfold.

  "Do something about what?" I ask, picking away few grain seeds that have landed in my curly hair. With a sweeping gesture of my hand, I whisk the seeds aside to clear a path.

  Demeter makes a sharp cutting motion with her forearm. The move is so violent that even I flinch this time, but she has no more miniature missiles left. Instead, the motion brings up a map of Osteria in the gazing pool near where she had been seated. With a wave of her hand she enlarges the kingdom of Minoa where a dozen young men and women are being escorted out of a train carriage by a group of beefy guards.

  "That." Her voice shakes with emotion. I wish Hera were here to calm Demeter before her frustration rots all of Demos’s newly sprouted grain. Then I remember that if Hermes is here, Hera will be doing her best to stay as far from the common room as possible. Ever since she found out her winged friend was helping Zeus reunite with one of his lovers, Hera has refused to speak to the god that was once her favorite gossip partner. The row between them is ridiculous since Hermes wanted nothing to do with stealing Io from her captivity. But no one ever said the gods were logical creatures. Take Demeter for example, who right now is making no sense. What do I care if a bunch of young people make a tour of Minoa?

  "I’m failing to understand how this is my responsib—"

  My words are cut off when Demeter moves the view to focus on a caged beast that is also being moved from the train. The snarling creature, half human and half bull, kicks at his enclosure and bloody spittle flies from between the bars as he flings his head in rage. I can see what’s sparked Demeter's anger, but this is not my fault.

  I charmed my way between Pasiphae’s thighs years ago. She wasn’t the prettiest woman; she can’t begin to compare to Medusa. But by gods she had a knack for bedsport. Unfortunately, much of her attraction to me was to spite her father, the titan Helios, who would have preferred the world to end before one of his offspring bedded a god. We carried on for a time, a few months perhaps. Although she didn’t tell me, I could sense that she was carrying my child. I was bursting with pride. I wanted to protect her because I really had fallen for her, and felt something more than lust and satisfaction when we were together. I had eve
n asked Zeus to bring out her titan side and make her immortal so we could always be together. In a good mood himself—this was when he was desperately in love with Alcmena, Hercules’s mother—he said he would grant my request and bring her to Olympus. On the day I came to tell her the news, she didn’t greet me with any affection and even turned aside when I tried to kiss her.

  "I haven’t eaten any garlic, my love," I had said teasingly, as I reached for her.

  "This is over." As if she was speaking a new tongue even a god couldn’t translate, I did not understand her. I stood there staring, waiting for her to explain what she meant, what exactly was over. "My father thinks we are suited to one another. My father thinks I should give myself entirely to you." Her voice was full of contempt.

  "I don’t understand. This is good news, isn’t it?"

  "I was only with you to annoy my father, you idiot," she said with a peevishness that reminded me she was a very young human, only sixteen. "Now that he doesn’t care, I’m bored. You may go."

  "You’re refusing me?" I asked dumbly as her words sank in. Her only response was to give me a sarcastic roll of her eyes before turning her back on me.

  I have to say, I didn’t behave my best that day. I begged. I went down on my knees. I asked her to think of our child. As frustration mounted in me, I lurched up and grabbed her. I rubbed my thigh between her legs as she liked me to do, hoping to raise a passion in her again. She stared at me, boredom plain on her face.

  "Go on, take your last turn if you must, but really, it’s been so dull the past several times with you I’d prefer you do it as quick as possible." Then she made sounds as if she was reaching her climax. Sounds she cut short as she grinned cruelly at me. "You’re such a bad lover you don’t even know when your partner is faking her excitement just to get things over with. My time in bed is better spent napping."

  Like my brother and sister—Zeus and Hera—I’m used to getting my own way, I’m used to humans fawning over me or at least respecting me. I was hurt. I was angry. I was feeling my power. I shoved her away, wishing it was out an open window. She staggered to keep her balance, I cursed her saying the child she bore would be a monster. She shouted that Circe would concoct something to get rid of it, but I only laughed and snapped my fingers.