Chapter 7: The Cretan Bull

“Look,” Leandros said, pausing to examine the stone wall of the tunnel. He raised his lantern, illuminating a faded chalk marking. “It’s one of the marks that I left on my way inside. Gods, it’s almost been washed away by the damp already – I can barely make it out.”

“It means that we are on the right track,” Asteria replied, her hooves echoing down the passage as she walked along beside him.

“We’re not far off,” he continued, casting his wavering flame down the tunnel ahead of them. “We don’t know how the king’s guards might react when I ring the bell, so be ready for anything. Once those logs are removed from the doors, there will be nothing standing in our way.”

“Should we give them a chance to surrender?” Asteria asked.

“I’m hoping they’ll flee at the sight of you,” he replied with a chuckle. “If they’re braver than they looked, and they’re willing to die for Minos, we might have a difficult fight ahead of us.”

“I am ready,” she replied, reaching down to tighten one of the leather straps that attached a salvaged shield to her thigh. “If they had not sent a dozen men to kill me, I might not even know how to swing an axe. There is irony in that.”

“They created the monster that they were so afraid of,” he said with a grin.

Guided by the chalk, they made their way back to the entrance, Leandros turning a corner to find himself standing in the long hallway through which he had first entered the labyrinth. He was struck with a blend of relief and apprehension. For so many days, he had feared that he might never leave this place, but he had imagined that his return would be met with fanfare rather than a fight. Getting back here had been the easy part. The real struggle was about to begin.

He led Asteria down the passage, the sound of their footsteps breaking the eerie silence. Were they too late? Had Daedalus given up on him and called off the guards by now?

Finally, the light of his lantern was cast on a pair of giant wooden doors, their bronze plating shining in its glow. Silently praying to any deity who might listen, Leandros took a knee, searching the stone floor for the rope that connected to the bell on the other side of the gate. He exhaled a sigh of relief as he found it, taking it in his hand.

“Be ready,” he warned, turning his head to glance back at Asteria. She reached over her shoulder to draw her massive axe from its rope holster, hefting it in her hands, then nodded to him. It was time.

Leandros pulled the rope taut, hearing the faint, almost inaudible sound of a bell ringing on the other side of the doors. He waited for a few tense moments, trying to listen for any indication that there were people moving around on the other side, but there was nothing. Just when he was beginning to despair, there was a creak from the heavy hinges, the fifteen-foot doors slowly starting to open.

“Let me go first,” Leandros whispered. “I can fit through the gap.”

Light spilled into the passage through the widening opening, Asteria stepping out of its path, pressing up against the wall to avoid being seen. Leandros glimpsed a helmeted man on the other side – he was poking his head through the gap. His eyes widened when he saw Leandros, and he turned to shout something to someone who was out of view.

“It’s him! Fetch Daedalus! Inform the king!”

They began to pull the doors open wider, Leandros seeing the two massive logs that sealed them shut lying on the floor nearby. When the aperture was wide enough, he stepped through, half a dozen palace guards greeting him with cheers. They crowded around him to pat him on the back and shoulders, celebrating what they thought was his victory.

“Did you do it?” one of them asked excitedly. “Did you bring its head?”

They froze in place as the sound of hooves on stone echoed down the tunnel, Asteria stepping into the light, illuminated by the glow of the torches. Leandros slowly raised his shield as a few of the men began to take faltering steps backwards, some of them reaching for the swords on their belts. She opened her mouth and roared – a terrifying sound that would strike fear into the bravest of men, Leandros watching them practically jump out of their sandals. Two of them dropped their shields and raced off up the passageway, but the other four took up defensive postures, brandishing swords and spears as they took refuge behind their shields.

“It’s going to be a fight, then,” Leandros mused as he gripped the haft of his doru. “Your loyalty is misplaced.”

Asteria stepped forward, her battle axe at the ready as she came to a stop behind him, towering over him. The men backed up a little further, but they didn’t flee, their frightened eyes darting between Leandros and his monstrous companion.

One of them finally drummed up enough courage to strike, stepping in to thrust his spear towards Leandros. He swept the weapon aside with his shield, then drove the bronze tip of his doru into the man’s throat, crimson blood flowing down his cuirass as he was sent gurgling to the floor. These men were not assassins or towering beasts – they were just soldiers, and they stood little chance against a seasoned warrior.

Now that the first blow had been struck, the remaining three guards rushed in, the blades and spears that they brandished flashing in the torchlight. Leandros impaled another on his bloody spear, a kopis slamming against his shield as he warded off a second. The third soldier circled around to his left, intending to take advantage of the opening, but Asteria lunged forward to intercept him.

She grunted with the effort as her axe cut through the air with a whistle, its blade catching her opponent in the stomach, cleaving through his armor as though it wasn’t even there. He was bisected, the two halves of his body tossed across the wide passageway, impacting the far wall before slumping to the stone floor in a grisly heap. She turned her furious eyes on the last man standing, letting out a bone-shaking bellow as she lifted her hoof, kicking him away from Leandros with the force of an angry stallion. Like he had been hit with a battering ram, he crumpled, his unconscious body rolling across the floor.

Leandros slid his now limp adversary off the end of his spear, then paused to gawk at the carnage that surrounded him, his eyes wide. How close had he come to being cut in half or smashed by a hoof?

“It’s nice to be reminded that I picked the right side,” he muttered, setting off down the passage at a brisk jog. Asteria followed behind him, easily matching pace with her long, loping strides. “Those two guards ran ahead of us, which means that they’re probably alerting the rest of the palace right now,” he panted. “We won’t have the element of surprise for much longer.”

“Let them come,” Asteria growled. “They cannot leverage their numbers in these halls.”

“You might have no love of fighting, but anyone who stands between you and freedom is a fool.”

She paused suddenly, turning to glance at the ostentatious archway and the two open doors, the darkness gaping beyond them.

“I am finally out,” she muttered, as though scarcely able to believe it. “I was confined to that prison for almost my entire life, and now, I am seeing it from the outside...”

“And you’ll never have to see it again,” Leandros added. “Come on – we have to keep moving. We can celebrate when we’re safely offshore.”

She nodded, following after him. Leandros had some idea of where Daedalus had led him on his way down, and he eventually arrived at one of the flights of stone steps that would take them to the palace above, starting to mount them. He paused to look back at Asteria, seeing that she was having some trouble with the human-sized steps. Her hooves were too large for them, but she braced herself against the walls, clambering up them a few at a time. After another couple of corridors and a flight of steps later, they emerged into one of the deeper levels of the palace, naked stone transitioning to tiles and more ornate decorations. There were side doors now that led to storage areas and rooms where food could be preserved at lower temperatures, their surroundings still lit by torches that were mounted to the walls at intervals. These were no longer Promethean flames – just normal fire. The concept almost seemed novel to Leandros now.

“I can smell fresh air!” Asteria declared, taking a deep breath. “So many memories are flooding back to me!”

“We can’t be far from the surface now,” Leandros said, waving her on as he led her down the hallway. Unlike the wide passages below, these were narrower, large enough that maybe four men could stand shoulder to shoulder. Asteria had to lower her head to avoid having her horns scrape along the ceiling, only able to fit at all due to the palace’s lavish architecture.

As they turned another corner, Leandros skidded to a halt, Asteria almost running into him from behind. Ahead of them, at the end of the corridor, was the final flight of stairs that led up to the ground floor. A group of soldiers were thundering down the steps, their armor and weapons clattering, taking up a tight formation as they reached the floor. They were clad in shining bronze cuirasses, their helmets adorned with ornate crests, the same flowing cloaks of red silk that Leandros had seen in the armory hanging from their shoulders. Their weapons were of the same quality – adorned with the decorative flair that he had so admired on the kopis that he had brought with him. They blocked the passage, their bronze shields interlocking to form an impenetrable wall embossed with the Minoan bull, their spears jutting from behind it. These men were not as skittish or as ill-prepared as the guards that he and Asteria had slain at the gate – they were here to fight.

Asteria moved up beside him, the two of them just about able to stand side by side, exhaling an angry snort as she brandished her axe.

“No way around them,” Leandros said, mirroring their posture as he raised his shield. “We’ll have to go through. I count fifteen.”

“Have you ever fought against such odds before?” Asteria asked as she eyed them warily.

“There’s a first time for everything,” he replied.

“If you are joking about what happened last night, we shall have words. Assuming that we survive this...”

Their commander yelled an order – a guttural chant that was echoed by his men, the formation taking a thundering step forward as one. They held the line, bronze shields and spear tips glinting in the torchlight.

Leandros broke into a sprint, covering the distance between them quickly, ignoring the lingering pain in his bicep as he raised his doru over his shoulder. He leapt at the last moment, sailing through the air, plunging the spear down towards the nearest soldier. The man lifted his shield, but too late, the sharp point glancing off it and sinking deep into his collar. Leandros landed on him, forcing him back with his weight, knocking the men behind him off-balance. As his target vomited blood from beneath his helmet, Leandros let go of the haft, his blade singing as he drew it with practiced speed. The man to his right had his throat slit before he could even react to what was happening, Leandros readying his next blow as the formation dissolved into a disorganized melee.

He deflected a spear, then parried a blade, the two swords sparking as they met. He kicked one of his opponents, the man blocking the blow with his shield, but Leandros’ strength far exceeded that of any mortal. The soldier was sent tumbling backwards, prevented from falling by the proximity of his comrades, but the opening allowed Leandros to drive his blade into the man’s chest. It cut through his cuirass like butter – Minos had good smiths in his employ, he had to admit.

There was no room to maneuver in the hallway – not with a dozen remaining men crowding it, Leandros warding off another spear jab with his shield as the guards began to surround him. He spun on the spot, grunting with the effort as he parried a sword, lunging forward to ring the man’s helmet with his shield.

A sound like the beating of a drum resounded, accompanied by a bellowing war cry, Leandros glancing up to see Asteria charging down the hallway. Her hooves hit the tiled floor like hammers, cracking them in places, her breath leaving her nose in a snort as she lowered her horned head. Like a rolling boulder, she plowed into the crowd of guards, the sound of clattering armor and yells of alarm filling the air. She had the size and strength of a prize bull, tossing the men to the ground like scattered children’s toys, one of their unfortunate number finding himself impaled on one of her curved horns.

She raised him off the floor, his blood staining her ivory, then sent him smashing into the leftmost wall with a violent swing of her head. Half of the guards were now picking themselves up, readying their weapons as they staggered to their feet, the shouting of their commander drowned out by Asteria’s bellowing challenge. One of the men came at her, thrusting his spear towards her belly, but she caught it with one hand. She yanked it, pulling the soldier closer, slamming a hoof the size of an anvil down on his chest. He was driven to the ground, his cuirass crumpling beneath her weight, his cry silenced as his rib cage followed suit.

With his left flank now clear, Leandros could more easily engage his opponents, driving them back with a flurry of blows. One of the men thrust a spear towards him, its tip sliding over his shoulder and narrowly missing his head as he jerked out of its path. He brought up his kopis, cleaving through the haft, the wood splintering. Leandros gave its wielder no time to react, his next swing decapitating him, his severed head bouncing off the shield of the man beside him.

Behind him, Asteria loosed another bestial roar, one of the soldiers lifting his shield as she raised her axe over her head. She brought it down with the strength of an ox, its blade cleaving through his shield, splitting it in two before biting into his shoulder. It didn’t come to a stop until it reached his waist, Asteria kicking his partially bisected body away, leaving a smear of crimson on the tiles.

Another of the guards swung his sword at her leg – it was all that he could reach – the blade glancing off the shield that was strapped to her thigh and biting into her hide. It wasn’t a deep wound, just another scar for her collection, but it drew blood. Asteria paused for a moment, then snorted, taking off his arm with an upward swing of her axe.

Leandros drove one of his assailants against the wall, burying his blade in the man’s chest. There were only half a dozen of them left standing now, the remaining guards grouping up as they began to back away towards the stairs. He followed after them, stooping to pick up a discarded spear as he went, launching it like a javelin. It impaled one of the men, sending him toppling to the ground, his companions leaving him behind.

Asteria’s thudding footsteps filled the hall as she advanced beside Leandros, her nostrils flaring angrily, her tail flicking back and forth behind her.

“Who do you fear more?” she bellowed, some of the guards sharing surprised glances. They hadn’t expected her to be able to speak. “Me, or Minos?”

Half of their number threw their weapons down and turned tail, ascending the steps at a run, the three remaining soldiers faltering.

“Come back here, you cowards!” their commander shouted after them. “Minos will toss you into the labyrinth for this!”

Asteria barreled towards them, swiping one of them aside with the flat of her axe head, swatting him like a fly. His body slammed into the wall, broken tiles showering him as he slumped to the floor. With another roar, she took off the commander’s head, Leandros darting in to drive his kopis into the last man’s heart.

He shook his sword to dislodge some of the blood that clung to its ornate blade, then adjusted his shield, looking up at Asteria. Her dark fur was splattered with blood that was not her own, a droplet of it falling from her horn, her chest rising and falling with her labored breathing. She turned her furious eyes on him, then her expression softened.

“We must find my mother,” she said, stepping over the broken bodies as she made for the stairs. “When Minos learns of our escape, I cannot say what he might do to her.”

Leandros nodded, jogging after her.

The torchlight faded away as they rose higher, replaced with a point of brighter, more natural light that flooded in from the top of the staircase. They emerged onto the ground floor, finding no more guards waiting for them, Asteria raising a hand to cover her eyes as they were exposed to the sun’s glare. They were standing in one of the covered walkways near the central courtyard of the palace. It was open to the air, the roof above their heads held aloft by rows of pillars adorned with ornate carvings, the ocean breeze blowing between them to rustle Asteria’s long hair.

She lowered her hand, blinking as her vision adjusted, turning her head in the direction of the open courtyard. Leandros watched as she walked over to the nearest pillar, her pace slow and tentative, almost as though she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. With one hand resting against the carved stone, she poked her head out from beneath the shadow of the roof, her eyes wide. She took another step, lifting her nose to the heavens, her braids blowing in the wind.

He joined her, glancing up at the drifting clouds, a flock of passing gulls framed against the brilliant azure backdrop. He knew that they could only spare a few scant moments to appreciate the view, but he didn’t want to spoil this for her. She hadn’t seen the sky for fifteen years.

“I have dreamed of this moment,” she muttered, transfixed by the sight. “I could never be sure whether my memories had faded with time – if I could even remember what the sky truly looked like. Now that I’m seeing it ... I am left speechless. I feel as though I may fall up into the heavens and be swallowed if I let go of this pillar,” she added with a nervous chuckle. “It’s so ... big...”

“Are you alright?” he asked, concerned by her sudden change in demeanor.

“How should one react when they see their most earnest wishes realized?” she replied, turning her head to glance down at him. One side of her face was soaked with blood from the guard who she had impaled on her horn, yet her eyes were wide with almost child-like wonder. “What can I say other than thank you?”

They were interrupted by the sound of yelling, the pair turning to see more guards pouring into the courtyard from an adjacent walkway, their armor shining beneath the midday sun. There were easily as many as they had just faced below ground.

“I know where the throne room is,” Leandros said, readying his shield as the wall of bronze raced towards them. “It was well-defended when I arrived, and if Minos is anywhere, it will probably be there.”

“He will keep my mother close,” Asteria replied, hefting her axe. “You can go to your boat, Leandros, if that is your wish. I will not ask you to die for me.”

“Are you kidding?” he replied. “I’m not leaving Crete without you. We go together, or we don’t go at all.”

She smiled at him, then lowered her horned head, her war cry shaking the pillars as she lurched into a charge. Her massive frame crashed into the guards, scattering half a dozen of them across the dusty ground, toppling some of them into the decorative shrubs and flowers. Like a war God given form, she waded through the waist-high field of bronze, her teeth bared in a snarl as she swung her axe. Leandros took advantage of the chaos, skirting the edge of the formation, picking off stragglers with his sword. They were so transfixed by the giant, bellowing monster that they scarcely seemed to notice him, the extra space giving him lots of room to maneuver.

He pulled another distracted soldier from the pack, kicking his feet out from under him and driving his kopis into his chest, blood seeping into the dusty earth. More of them were splitting their attention now, trying to head him off, the courtyard turning into a battlefield.

Another of the guards fell before his blade, slumping to the ground as his lifeblood spilled from the gash in his belly, Leandros searching for Asteria in the melee. She wasn’t hard to find – towering above her assailants, sending their broken bodies flying with each powerful swing of her weapon. A dozen of them had formed a circle around her now, their shields raised defensively, their spears reaching out to prod and poke. Whenever she blocked or parried one of them, there was another waiting to stab her from behind, Asteria spinning on the spot in a bid to ward them off. She yanked one of the men from the formation and crushed him underfoot, but two more stabbed her with their spears from another angle, a bestial cry of pain filling the courtyard. When she turned to face her attackers, another spear found its mark, sinking into her calf. She was slowly being whittled down.

Leandros began to make his way towards her, fighting as he went, cutting a swathe through the soldiers who stood between them. One of the guards moved to intercept him, slamming his sword into Leandros’ shield, but the warrior pushed back to knock him off-balance. He lost his footing, falling to the ground, Leandros barely pausing as he dispatched him with a downward thrust from his blade.

Another came at him from the left, yelling a challenge that was answered with a quick flurry of strikes, Leandros overwhelming the man with his strength. He was wielding a wooden shield, which splintered apart as the demigod rained down strikes from his sword, carving through it like he was chopping firewood. His blade bit into flesh, blood splattering his bronze armor.

As he cut through the thigh of another would-be hero, sending him toppling to the ground in a spreading pool of his own blood, he heard a scream. He glanced up to see Asteria toss one of the spearmen through the air like a doll, sending him sailing over Leandros’ head to land in a heap somewhere behind him. She was bleeding in a dozen places now – nothing deep enough to be fatal, but it was only a matter of time until they weakened her. Her hide might be as thick as leather, and her muscles might be as hard as stone, but even she wasn’t invincible.

He finally fought his way to the ring of soldiers that surrounded her, driving his blade into the back of the closest man. The circle broke, the nearby guards turning to face this new threat, metal ringing as they crossed swords with him. The distraction gave Asteria the opening that she needed to break free, and she shouldered into the men opposite Leandros, throwing her immense weight around.

When their numbers began to thin, the survivors broke ranks, fleeing into the surrounding palace. Leandros drove his sword into the chest of a dying guard to speed his passing, then stepped back, glancing around at the carnage they had created. There must have been near twenty men lying dead in the courtyard.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded, watching as Asteria paced on the dirt. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing,” she replied, shaking her head as though that might somehow dispel the pain. “Come – we must find the throne room before Minos has a chance to escape.”

They killed a few more guards on their way to the throne room, eventually arriving at the marble steps that led to its massive, ornate doorway. It was being blocked by another line of soldiers, forming a shield wall in front of the entrance, standing between the white marble pillars and ornate statues. Asteria and Leandros engaged in a short standoff with them, then one of the men broke ranks, letting out a yell as he leapt down the steps towards them. Asteria simply waited for him to come within reach, then drove him into the ground like a peg with her axe, leaving a bloody heap in her wake. The rest of the guards exchanged glances, then began to throw down their weapons, their swords and shields clattering down the stone steps.