ch. 4 . Souls

"Deliver his soul!" the priest thundered as Theseus's chains were cut and he was pitched over a ledge.

He landed like a cat, all fear and fury.  So he was to be a blood sacrifice.  What proud creature would these people of the gods choose to kill him?

Lylia had said this was not his time.

High walls surrounded him.  He moved cautiously through cool, deep shade.  The turns were frequent, and many archways led to empty rooms.  It was like a maze.

A rumbling laugh echoed nearby.  Theseus rushed toward it, Spartan instincts intent on meeting his foe, but he found nothing.  The walls were endless.

An Athenian merchant had once told of blood sacrifices sent to a kingdom over the southern sea.  It was said that a demi-god ate their flesh and delivered their souls to Zeus.  Theseus wondered if the city of the gods was the city of blood.

Loud clanging, as of metal hitting stone, attracted his attention.  Again he ran to the sound, but found only an empty room, larger than the others.

A whistle in the wind, and he instinctively ducked.  A weapon smashed into the wall where his head had been.  Theseus leapt back, avoiding a downward hack.  He faced a monster.

It had the body of a man, naked save for a metal harness and a loin cloth.  It was tall and broad, with the burly frame of a warrior.  At its waist was a sheathed short sword.  In his hands was a twin bladed great-axe.  A labrys.  Theseus could see the blades were sharp by how the light glinted off their edges.  On its shoulders was a black bull"s head.

The Minotaur.

Proud horns reared and inscrutable eyes surveyed him as the monster screamed a battle cry.  Theseus readied himself.  He was weaponless.

The monster rushed forth in fury, swinging its blade in a horizontal arch that Theseus barely avoided by leaping back.  A wall blocked his retreat and the Minotaur attempted to pummel him with a thrust of his weapon.  Theseus dodged aside and landed a stiff jab on the beast's muzzle as he moved behind it.  It spun, swinging the labrys horizontally, but Theseus caught the Minotaur's heavy arms and threw him forward.  The Minotaur managed to keep his feet.  He turned and seemed more wary.

Suddenly it stood upright, nodded its head as a sign of respect.  It removed the short sword and tossed it on the ground at Theseus's feet.  Theseus cautiously bent down, eyes locked on his opponent, and gripped the hilt.

He adored the familiar feel of a sword.  The blade whispered as he pulled the scabbard free and tossed it aside.  The Minotaur allowed him to test the weight.  This was a good sword, but it could not block the heavier axe.  Even if the blade didn't break, his arms would.  Theseus knew the key to winning this fight was to be quick and clever, to strike when his opponent was off balance.

The Minotaur attacked, wary not to let Theseus close the distance.  Theseus ducked and weaved away.  He retreated into the narrow hallways where the labrys would be useless.

The Minotaur followed, hacked downward.  Theseus side-stepped.  As the axe chipped the floor, his blade found Minotaur's throat.

It's scream was human.  The hairs on Theseus's neck stood on end.

"What are you?" Theseus whispered.

His heart nearly stopped as the Minotaur spoke.

"I am nothing."  The voice was resonant, though muffled, and Theseus realized the bull's head was a mask.

He stepped back, livid.  Were the gods testing his faith?

"Remove it!" he barked, gesturing to the bull's head.

The Minotaur raised his hands to press against the black bull's neck.  He gripped and strained.

"It has been a long time," he intoned.  With a long grunt of exertion, finally the head came free, and Theseus looked on the countenance of a man, surrounded by matted brown hair.

He thought of the Athenian's tale, of the many Greeks sent to the slaughter:  men, women and children alike.

"You are a murderer," Theseus said.  "I'll cut out your black heart today."

"I do what must be done to protect my father's kingdom," the man said.

Theseus was taken aback.  In that moment he noticed the resemblance.  The wretch's countenance was an almost exact likeness of Minos's.

"Then you are king Minos's son?  A demi-god?"

"I am nothing, the son of a whore, and my father is not the first king Minos.  There have been hundreds before him!  He is only a man, and a puppet of the priesthood."

Theseus was silent, dumbfounded.

"I am an insult to the Earthshaker," the man said with disgust.

"But do the people not realize his appearance changes?"

"It is a demi-god's prerogative to alter his appearance, but if there were the child of a whore who bore his likeness, the people might doubt.  I was a convenient lie.  The myth of the Minotaur held the Greeks in check."

He pointed an accusing finger.

"But you fight like the devil."

"I am a Spartan," Theseus said, and his hands went limp.  So it was all a lie.  There was no monster.  There was no god-king Minos.  He would not meet Lylia.  She was dead, lost, for there was no divinity in the world to bring her back.

"The priests underestimated you, or you would have been drugged more heavily."

"I was drugged?"

Minos's son laughed.

"Did you not see visions?" he said.

Theseus hung his head.

"I saw... my departed wife."

Tears formed in his eyes.

"What is a Spartan?" Minos's son asked.

Theseus gripped tightly on the hilt.  It represented his only remaining certainty.  The old strength slowly seeped into his limbs