ONCE AGAIN I stand with Ariadne at the platform of Minoa’s train station. Once again I wait for Pasiphae’s insisted-upon visit. But this time there is no sense of anticipation, no banter between me and my priestess, just dread. Because although the Osteria Council has again sent a message telling me of Pasiphae’s imminent arrival, they say she is bringing my punishment without offering any explanation of what that punishment might be and without giving me a chance to deliver my side of the story. The letter actually said that if I step one foot out of my kingdom or even send messengers, these will be taken as acts of aggression that they will, in their own words, “act with full force.” They would bring war against me for trying to speak my mind. It can’t be anything serious if there was no trial, so I’ve resolved to take this punishment and be done with it. A little humiliation, maybe even a little physical pain, is nothing to start a war over. I know the truth and Ariadne believes me. That’s all that matters.
I’ll be honest; it has been a restless few weeks since Pasiphae’s first visit. I feel like a man waiting for bad tidings with no certainty of just how bad those tidings might be. Ariadne has been no help. She isn’t one to be jealous, but I was reluctant to tell her what happened between me and Pasiphae. Still, my priestess is no fool and sensed my discomfort every time we spoke of the councilwoman’s hurried departure.
The morning of Pasiphae’s departure I went to the temple hoping some time with my bulls might soothe my agitation. Instead of being allowed to collect my thoughts, I had to face Ariadne’s questions.
“Why would she leave without even staying here for a single day?" she had asked.
I wasn’t surprised she would comment on Pasiphae leaving so suddenly. Even people on official business find it hard to leave my kingdom after only one night here. Look at Herc Dion and his cousin, Iolalus. They were in a rush to save their entire polis and they still couldn’t resist lingering for an extra day to enjoy the events of our Earthshaker Festival.
When I had hemmed and hawed and shifted on my feet like a little boy trying to answer his mother’s probing questions, Ariadne scrutinized me. I think it was my inability to look her in the eye that gave me away.
"Don’t tell me you bedded her," she said in exasperation. "You idiot." Her insult had carried no anger, no judgement, but her disappointment draped heavily over me. "How could you be taken in by that woman? You had to know she was only bedding you to lure you into complacency with some damn Council scheme."
"You don’t have to put it so bluntly," I had said, feeling slightly affronted that Ariadne assumed a woman would only bed me to fool me. "And I only did it once. I didn’t give into her the second time."
"If I had the gods’ ears I would call their curses down on you," Ariadne said. "By bedding her once and refusing her the second time, you’ve likely made matters worse. Of course it would be better if you hadn’t bedded her at all, then maybe we wouldn’t be wondering what the Council might do to us or which company of the Arean army that woman might throw at us."
At the time, I thought she was overreacting. I was sure the Osteria Council wouldn’t believe Pasiphae if I wasn’t there to defend myself. But with this latest message, I have my doubts. I used to believe Minoa was far enough to be out of the reach of any trouble from the Council, and strong enough to resist if they did try to fight us. Now I wonder if I was fooling myself in thinking I was immune from that vile group. They will take whatever they want using whatever fair or foul means they have at hand.
The train rattles its way into the Minoa station. Normally, people file out in an orderly fashion, and those who have never been here gawk upwards with dazed expressions at the glass and steel buildings jutting up from my city center that is said to be even more modern than Athenos, the most advanced polis in Osteria. Others who make routine visits here—merchants and traders from the poli—feign disinterest at my kingdom’s glory, but can still be caught sneaking glances upward.
But today is not a normal day. Passengers hurry off the train, pressing old people and children aside in their haste to be off the huge machine. No one turns their gaze upward because they are too busy voicing complaints, comforting one another as they stagger away from the platform, and scurrying past one of the cargo carriages as they eye it with fearful curiosity.
Before I have time to wonder what has them in such a panic, the whole train shakes as something huge and heavy bashes against the inside of the carriage that has drawn some of the braver passengers’ attention.
"What does the Council have in store for you?" Ariadne asks. Her face shows concern but no fear. I’m grateful for her sturdy demeanor as my gut rumbles with acidic anticipation.
"Perhaps it’s just a donation," I say. It’s not uncommon for Osterians to send me bulls that have proven too feisty to handle. These donations as I’ve deemed them come to me as angry, misbehaving beasts that cannot be controlled with whip or wit. Over time, I rehabilitate them using kindness, patience, and plenty of apples. Before I can convince myself of this delusion, a bellowing cry echoes across the platform. The sound is something out of a nightmare: a combination of a lion’s roar, a man’s angry grunt of pain, and the sharp chortle of a frightened horse. This is no bull and certainly no donation.
The call encourages the rest of the passengers and curious onlookers to clear the platform. Besides wary porters, the only person left is an elegantly slim woman in an emerald-toned dress. Whereas before I thought her beautiful, she now seems gaunt like a scraggly old tree ready to hurl its branches down on an unlucky passerby. Whereas before I wanted nothing more than to bed her, I now want to tell her to get away from my kingdom and never come back. Flanked by five men who have the hulking build of laborers or wrestlers, she starts toward me. I step up to greet her, wanting to keep her as far from my gates as possible.
"Pasiphae," I say coldly. "Why have you come?"
"Minos," she says and then makes a tutting sound. "That’s not a very friendly way to greet a lover is it?" She smirks and glances up at Ariadne as if hoping to see jealousy in my priestess’s face. When she doesn’t find it, her eyes focus on me. "Sorry for leaving so abruptly. I wanted to give you time to reconsider."
"My answer is still no."
"Are you certain? The Council thinks you should."
"Did you lie to them?" I ask in a hissing whisper. I want to grab her by the arm and shake the answers out of her, but I cannot make any violent display and worsen my cause. "You know I did not rape you."
"They— How should I put it? They have their concerns about you, but you still have a chance to save your kingdom." Again, something very large crashes against the inside of one of the cargo carriages. Pasiphae glances back in the direction of the noise then looks at me with a charming smile on her false lips. "Would you like to see the gift I have if you refuse to join?"
"I can handle any creature you leave here," I say with more confidence than I feel. I don’t know what’s in that carriage, but a clear voice tells me it’s not something that will be won over with a satchel of apples.
"Guards, open the carriage."
I am about to protest. Even if she is going to burden me with a wild beast, I will not have my people, nor my city ravaged by a crazed animal. But the guards, who wear olive green tunics and breastplates embossed with the crossed arrow symbol of Aryana, yank the carriage door open before I can say anything. I’m hit with the stench of feces and putrid flesh. In the darkness of the carriage all I can make out is the dull metal glint of a series of vertical bars. A cage. As the smell assaults me, I am overwhelmed with an urge to never know what is in that cage, to slam the carriage door shut, and to tell the train to leave as fast as possible and never come back.
"One more chance to reconsider," Pasiphae says, as smoothly and calmly as if asking whether I’d like to rethink my refusal of a cup of beer. "All you have to do is give control of your forces over to me, and the Council will take it as an act of contrition and call off this punishment."
"You cannot unleash that thing here," Ariadne says sternly but with a waver of fear in her voice.
"Actually, I could, but I won’t because that thing, as you call it, is all for you, Minos. You will house my son and you will feed him and you will earn the wrath of every polis and every kingdom in Osteria until you say, ‘Enough, dear Councilmembers, I agree to give my kingdom to you.’ Or you could just sign an agreement now and I will take him home with me." She speaks flippantly, but I can see from the worry in her face that she may not truly want to leave whatever is in there with me. Someone has put her up to this.
I also don’t miss that she has now gone from requesting I side with the Council to demanding complete surrender to them. No doubt that was her intention all along. I want to say that will never happen, but whatever is in that carriage leaves me unsure of everything I’ve ever believed.
Without warning, the beast crashes against its enclosure again. The force tilts the cage and even bends the iron bars. The bars, which are as thick as my arm, show several areas of similar damage and the creature inside has blood trickling from wounds on its shoulders where its skin must have met metal dozens of times since it was trapped. Or has it always lived in this captivity? I doubt that whatever is in there lives in a quiet palace room down the hall from— her son? The word finally registers in my mind. She is its mother? What monstrosity did she breed to create a child like this? And what cruelty has she shown him to make him so vicious?
Just as I’m about to feel sorry for the animal, it lunges at the cage again, this time with its mouth open. The incisors resemble those of a man, but are at least three times the size of any human’s. The dagger-like canines measure as long as my index finger. It chews on the bars, its teeth grinding against the iron as frustrated grunts gurgle from its throat.
"Why will the poli and kingdoms hate me?" I ask as her earlier comment makes its way through the horror this thing has encased me in.
"A creature like this needs to be fed. And he has very particular dietary needs."
My mind races. How many bulls and cows are in their senior years? How many of them could be used to satiate this monstrosity?
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.