Minotaur (28 page)

Calmed by these comforting thoughts, I settled down onto my haunches.

Finally, the last of the tributes was thrown into the labyrinth. Events first unfolded exactly as they had done previously. Most of them huddled on the rock floor, weeping uncontrollably. Several of the young men stood, trying unsuccessfully to control their fear.

Even in the darkness, I thought I recognized one of them by his bearing. Proud, upright, unmoving. He was standing a little apart from the others and, unlike them, seemed unaffected by fear. Even though I couldn’t see his face, I knew it must be Theseus.

I didn’t dare approach for fear of the reception I’d receive from the others. Other than Theseus, there was probably at least one other hero amongst them, a youth eager to make a name for himself, keen to impress the young women. Possibly even someone who was just brave. Or stupid.

I realized that I would have to bide my time. Even as I watched from the darkness, I saw several other youths begin to gather around Theseus. He was a prince and their leader. Someone they trusted. A hero whose fame had spread all across Greece. If anyone could save them from Minotaur, it was Theseus. I saw him offer comfort, kneeling down to embrace those who were more distraught than others.

This, I realized, would be more difficult than I had anticipated. The other youths would be reluctant to become parted from Theseus. It would not be easy to get him alone.

I thought furiously. If I bellowed and charged, I would probably be attacked by any heroes amongst them. Possibly Theseus himself if he thought I was a threat to the others. But, if all the others decided to flee, Theseus would be left alone, and we would be free to talk.

I decided to abandon that idea as too risky. There was too much that could go wrong, and if anything went wrong in that place, it often led to death. I could call out, asking Theseus to move away from the others and come talk to me. But that too was fraught with risk. His companions would probably not allow Theseus out of their sight. What if Theseus believed it to be a trap and decided to attack me? Perhaps while he was talking to me, the other brave members of the tribute might plan a surprise attack. I know this sounds paranoid but after my long imprisonment, my mind played tricks on me.

I had no option other than to wait. They would fall asleep soon, exhausted by their long journey from Athens and the expense of so many tiring emotions. I would creep up on Theseus, tap him on the shoulder, and lead him back to my bedchamber. Or something like that.

It was a good plan, I thought. I began to feel my spirits rise, confident that things would work out, content to watch and rest. Time for action would come soon, and I would need all my strength for the trials that awaited me.

Ω

Several hours passed before the Athenian tributes actually settled down and slept. Understandably, none of them had decided to investigate the rest of the labyrinth. Knowing Theseus, I suspected that he had cautioned them to stay where they were. This suited me just fine. I actually heard him say to the others that he would stand watch. Even better.

I watched them carefully, especially the one I suspected was Theseus. I noted where he lay down with his back propped against a rock wall. Luckily, he was a little removed from the others, but I had no idea whether he was asleep or not. I decided that it would be foolish to creep up on him. Instead, when I was reasonably confident that everyone was asleep, I picked up a handful of small limestone rocks.

My intention was to hit Theseus with a rock, get his attention, and lure him to where I crouched in the dark. It sounds simple, but I had discovered through experience that the best plans often are.

I threw the first rock. It was a scene reminiscent of my fight with Sinis and his bandits. Not only did it miss Theseus but it clattered against the wall well above his head. It rebounded and hit another sleeping body. Whoever it was woke immediately and sat up with a small cry of alarm. This served to rouse the others.

I had to wait another hour until they all settled down again. Theseus must have been aware that I was out there somewhere and was clearly expecting me to try again.

I aimed carefully and threw. Unfortunately, the throw was almost as bad as the first. Luckily, Theseus was awake and ready. His eyes had become accustomed to the darkness. He was also a superb athlete with supernatural reflexes. He sprung silently to his feet and intercepted the rock before it could hit the wall.

The direction of the rock told him roughly where I was. As silent as death, he crept toward me. I melted back behind another wall and waited.

Moments later, Theseus appeared before me. I knew it was him, even without being able to see his face clearly.

We stood facing each other in silence. Neither of us moved. It was probably the strangest reunion I have ever had. My imprisonment had made me awkward and uncomfortable around others. I really didn’t know what to do. Theseus, for his part, was probably a little nervous and possibly frightened—although I had never seen him so before.

Theseus always saw things in black and white. There was usually no middle ground for him. He let his actions speak for themselves. I realized that he only had two options. He was either going to try and kill me or renew our friendship. I didn’t know which one he would choose.

Suddenly, Theseus moved. It startled me, and I threw up my arms as if to defend myself. Before I knew it, his arms were around me. For a moment, I thought perhaps that he was going to wrestle me, and my arms stiffened, prepared for combat. Then I realized what this was. Theseus wasn’t attacking me. Theseus was hugging me.

A little confused and feeling a trifle awkward and self-conscious, I eventually returned the embrace, and we held each other for long moments in the dark. I felt my body relax. Theseus was here. My friend was here. Like we had many times before, we would fight together.

We didn’t speak; we couldn’t for fear of rousing the others. Indicating that Theseus should follow, I led him through the labyrinth. In the first few months of my imprisonment, it would’ve taken me the best part of an hour to travel from the trapdoor to the place that I considered my bedchamber. Especially in the darkness. Now, we made the same journey in less than half the time. After perhaps a year and a half in that place, I was so confident of my surroundings that I hardly needed to consult the marks on the wall to find my way.

Theseus kept a grip on my shoulder as we walked. I found it comforting. It reminded me of Glaucus sitting there.

Eventually, we made our way to my room. I fumbled around in the darkness and lit my small oil lamp. I bade Theseus sit while I took a stool and sat facing him.

“It’s good to see you, my friend,” said Theseus, smiling so brightly it would’ve melted any woman’s heart. He looked good. It was hard to imagine that he’d just spent several days imprisoned in the hold of Minos’s ship. Even his loincloth looked less stained than mine. He shone with good health and appeared strong and fit. I envied him.

The loincloth was the only thing he wore. He didn’t even have sandals. He certainly didn’t have a sword or a club like the stories said. Some say that Ariadne had hidden a weapon for him within the labyrinth, but that is laughable. Ariadne had almost nothing to do with Theseus during the voyage from Athens. Not only that, but how was she supposed to enter the labyrinth and conceal a weapon for him? There is also the matter of the ball of thread, but I have already touched on that.

“Take off your mask so I can see your face, my brother,” he said.

I shook my head. “I can’t. Daedalus made sure of that.”

Theseus leant in closer to examine the helmet and the mask itself. “Clever,” he said finally. “It’s no wonder your legend has grown. I am … sorry,” he said eventually, his smile faltering.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I said, but I knew it as a lie as soon as the words had left my lips.

“I do,” said Theseus. “I’m sorry for what I said to you. I’m sorry about what happened to Androgeus. It was my fault. I lost my temper and your brother died.”

The pain of old memories resurfaced. I remembered Theseus pushing Androgeus in his rage and the unfortunate outcome. I thought perhaps I would never be able to forgive Theseus, but seeing him like this, seeing the honest regret on his face, I couldn’t hold onto my anger. I knew how great Theseus’s pride was, too. For him to apologize was a rare occurrence and something he didn’t do lightly.

“We were both to blame,” I said, tears starting to roll down my cheeks. I was glad Theseus couldn’t see them. “If I hadn’t tried to intervene, Androgeus would still live.”

Theseus nodded. “I am sorry, too, that you’ve had to endure this terrible punishment you don’t deserve. And I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come for you. But that’s all in the past now, brother. Together, we will escape here and end Minos’s tyranny.”

“How do you plan on doing that, exactly?” I asked.

“Simple,” said Theseus, smiling again. “Once we escape, we will kill that whoreson Minos. Crete’s power will be broken, and her hold over Athens will be no more. There will be no more tributes.”

As I might have mentioned before, Theseus wasn’t the brightest ember in the fire. He was all for doing. Thinking usually came afterwards—if at all.

“What did Phaedra tell you?” I asked, choosing not to criticize. Antagonizing Theseus was not a good idea, especially in such a delicate situation.

“She said that I, with your help, would lead the tributes and my fellow Athenians to a secret tunnel. Once there, she and your brothers will help them escape Crete and return to Athens. The rest is up to you and me.”

“Did Phaedra say how she planned to get you off the island?” I asked.

Theseus shook his head. “She didn’t.” Of course, he probably hadn’t thought to ask either.

“Did the tributes from last year return?” This was something I had thought long and hard about. Phaedra had never given me details about how she’d liberated the tributes nor what had happened to them after.

“No,” said Theseus, shaking his head and looking a little confused. “I confess that at first, I feared the worst.”

“The worst? What do you mean?” I asked, already knowing what he was getting at.

“When they didn’t return, I thought perhaps you … that you had become what they said you had,” said Theseus, looking a little sheepish.

“And what’s that exactly?” I asked, trying to quell the defensiveness in my voice.

“A monster,” said Theseus, meeting my eye without flinching. “They said you had become a monster that devoured any human thrown into the labyrinth.”

“Did you believe the stories? Do you believe them now?” I asked.

Theseus shook his head. “I was confused at first. I knew you. I
know
you. I couldn’t believe what people were saying. But when the tributes didn’t return, I didn’t know what to think. Now that I’ve seen you, I know the truth. That you couldn’t have done what they say you did.”

I thought about this for a moment. “So
what exactly
happened to the tributes?” I asked. “The last I saw of them was my brothers leading them to freedom.”

“I told you—I don’t know,” said Theseus. “But I know you weren’t responsible.”

“I suppose it doesn’t matter,” I said finally. “I’m confident that Phaedra and my brothers got them to safety. What matters now is freeing the new tributes.”

“Agreed,” said Theseus, his smile returning with renewed vigor. “I’ll return and guide them back here.”

“Not so hasty,” I said. “You can’t bring them here because this is where I will hide. First, I’ll show you the secret passage. Then, I will guide you back to them. You can use the ball of thread that Phaedra used and my lamp.”

Theseus nodded. I knew from his reaction that Phaedra had already told him about the thread.

“Be careful,” I said, repeating the instructions I had given to my brothers, “not to let the guards see the light. Leave it several turns of the passage away, and then go and get the others. The thread will guide you back to the escape tunnel.”

“And what about you, brother?” he asked.

“I can’t risk being seen by the other tributes. I will only scare them, and that could lead to … an unfortunate incident.” I wanted to tell Theseus about the poor youth I had killed but wasn’t sure how he would react. “I’ll come with you only to show the way. Then, I’ll return here. Once the tributes are out, come for me. Together, we’ll finish widening the tunnel.”

And then what? I thought. Embark on some foolish plan to kill Minos? As much as I wanted to get my revenge him, it was a fool’s errand. He would be heavily guarded. Despite Theseus passion and enthusiasm for bloodshed, we wouldn’t stand a chance. Together, we were a formidable force, but even so, against hundreds of guards? Ridiculous. Our best hope would be to get to a ship. Or so I supposed.

Of course, I never mentioned these doubts to Theseus. One step at a time. Get the tributes out first, then think about what to do next.

Ω

I guided Theseus to the entrance of the escape tunnel. Wedging my chisel into a crack in the rock, I tied one end of the thread to it and played it out as we walked back toward the center of the labyrinth.

When we were close, I set the lamp down on the ground.

“See these marks on the rock?” I asked Theseus, pointing to the scratches I had made months earlier. He nodded, and I explained their use.

“They will guide you to the trapdoor. If you get lost or lose the thread, use them to return back the way you came.”

“I will,” Theseus promised. He clapped me on the shoulder. “I will see you soon. Luck to us both.”

Ω

I returned to my bedchamber to wait. I didn’t have to wait long.

I heard the sounds of commotion long before their cause became apparent. I was about to charge off into the labyrinth to investigate and almost crashed into Theseus on my way out.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Trouble,” panted Theseus breathlessly.