CHAPTER 1: A HERO'S LABOR
Leandros mounted the steps one by one, his tanned skin baking beneath the midday sun, his sandals pounding against the hot stone. He wore a set of bronze armor that glinted in the light, his ornate cuirass molded into a muscled effigy of a male torso, the metal ornamented with flowing scenes of battle. His Corinthian helmet came down over his cheeks and nose, shielding his eyes from the glare, its decorative crest bobbing with each step. With his spear and shield in hand, he arrived at the top of the staircase, the wind that blew in from the ocean rustling the leather strips of the
pteruges
that protected his thighs. Behind him, the white sands of Crete gave way to the azure ocean, the sunlight reflecting off its calm surface, the calls of seabirds resounding as they circled overhead. He could see his trireme from here, the ship moored at the bustling docks below, its white sails fluttering in the breeze.
Above him, perched atop the island's craggy cliffs, was the great palace of Minos. It was an impressive edifice of shining marble pillars, its stone painted in vibrant reds and blues, adorned with finely-crafted statues honoring the Pantheon.
As he made his way higher, a pair of armored guards moved to intercept him, but they soon backed away when they recognized the sigil of the lion on his shining shield. He jogged the rest of the way, following the winding path up the arid, rocky incline until he reached the shade of a covered walkway. His sandals echoing on the polished tiles, he made his way deeper, flanked to his left and right by the massive, ornate pillars that held up the impressive structure. It was as large a palace as he had ever seen, grand both in its incredible scale and in the minutia of its adornments. He could scarcely find a surface that wasn't patterned with beautiful mosaic work or an alcove that didn't play host to an immaculately carved statue of a hero or a God.
The guards watched him warily as he ascended a short flight of steps, emerging into the king's audience chamber. Sitting before him astride a throne of white marble was Minos, the king of Crete. He was clad in flowing robes of the finest silk, the locks of his long beard decorated with heavy, golden jewelry. Atop his head sat a gilded diadem encrusted with rare gems that shone as brightly as stars. At his right hand, seated in a smaller - albeit no less impressive throne hewn from marble - was his wife, Pasiphae. She was as beautiful as the stories had told, her olive skin seeming to reflect the light of the torches that burned nearby as though it had been oiled, her long, braided hair falling down her back. Her gossamer gown did little to conceal the feminine figure that lay beneath, but not even Leandros was so bold as to examine her too closely in front of the king.
He took a few steps closer, then dropped to a knee, his armor clattering as he lay down his spear before the low pedestal that held aloft the throne.
"King Minos - I have traveled far to answer your call for aid. I am Leandros - son of Alessandro, hailing from the island of Kos. I come to offer you my spear."
"Rise, Leandros," Minos replied with a wave of his hand. Each of his thick fingers was adorned with a gilded ring that shone as he moved. "Tales of your exploits have reached even these shores. I met your father once - he was a skilled warrior and an even more renowned statesman."
Leandros climbed to his feet again, puffing out his chest with pride as he stood before the monarch.
"Thank you for answering my call in this dark hour," Minos continued, leaning forward in his stone seat. "Tell me - what stories of Crete's plight have you heard?"
"Rumors, my King," Leandros replied. He didn't elaborate, seeking the king's permission to continue for fear of causing offense.
"Speak," Minos ordered.
"They say that a beast lurks beneath the palace," Leandros began. "They say that under this very court, there is a labyrinth of immense proportions from which no man can escape, no matter his cunning. They say that within its walls lurks a beast - not quite man, and not quite animal - that preys on all those who might dare enter."
"You have heard true," Minos continued, settling back into his throne with a solemn nod. "Far below us, in the bowels of the island, is a labyrinth that spans leagues. It was created on my orders by the most renowned masons and architects of Greece, its purpose - to serve as a prison, as a cage for this beast. For nearly two decades, we have kept it satiated with tributes and offerings, but it has grown restless. Now, I fear that it might find a way to escape one day soon, and when it does, all of Crete will be threatened by its wrath."
"What
is
it, my King?" Leandros asked.
"An unholy union of man and beast," he replied, his dark eyes darting to his queen for the briefest of moments. She averted her gaze, staring off into the distance, the tension between them so palpable that Leandros could almost taste it on the air.
"I have sent warriors and assassins into the labyrinth in a bid to end this threat before it gets out of my control," the King continued, turning his attention back to Leandros. "These were not mere sellswords and mercenaries, but men of great renown. Many have ventured into the labyrinth, and not one has ever been seen again. Whether the creature is to blame or the labyrinth itself claimed them, I cannot know for sure, but the people of Crete will not sleep soundly until this threat is dealt with."
"Then, I, Leandros of Kos, shall be the one to set their minds at ease," he replied as he planted the long haft of his spear on the tiles. "I vow to enter the labyrinth, slay this beast, and return with proof of my deeds. I shall deliver you its head and cast it before your throne."
"As I had hoped," Minos replied, waving a hand. From the shadows, an old man clad in a fine cloak appeared, seeming to melt into view beside one of the flickering torches. "This is my closest and most trusted advisor, Daedalus. I have tasked him with preparing you for the labors to come. He will guide you to our armory, where you may take whatever weapons and supplies you deem necessary, and he will answer any questions you might have about the nature of the beast and its home."
"My king," Leandros replied, bowing his helmeted head in supplication. He turned to the old man, who beckoned for him to follow with a crooked finger.
Leandros left the throne room behind him, following the hunched Daedalus deeper into the palace's winding corridors. As they ventured into the heart of the structure, less natural light made its way inside, and the flickering of torches soon replaced it as the only illumination. Was this an omen of the darkness that he might soon face below?
"I was there when the labyrinth was first built," Daedalus croaked, Leandros having to slow his gait to match pace with the old man's unsteady footsteps. "It was twenty years ago almost to the day that the creature was birthed, and upon seeing its horrifying countenance, King Minos assembled the greatest architects of the age and ordered that a structure be built to house it. My son Icarus and I oversaw its design and construction."
"Why not kill it before it had even drawn its first breath if it was so horrifying?" Leandros asked curiously.
"The King had his reasons," Daedalus replied cryptically. "The will of the Gods is not so easily countermanded. It took five years to complete the project, and by then, the beast had grown several times larger than a normal child of its age. It was already strong enough to overpower an adult man. It was then sent into the maze - never to be seen again. At least, that was the King's sincerest hope."
"What changed? I was told that no man who sets foot in there can ever leave."
"If you think that to be true, then why have you offered to enter?" the old man asked as he tilted his head quizzically.
"Fair point," Leandros muttered. "I have a plan."
"In truth, the labyrinth is very difficult to navigate by design, but nothing is impossible. If there are ways in, then logic dictates that there must be ways out. I am the only man who has ever seen the completed structure from the inside, and I was barely able to make my way out, even armed with all my knowledge. The King has grown worried that as the beast's strength and cunning grow, it will overcome the obstacles that have been placed before it."
"What is this creature?" Leandros pressed, the pair turning another corner in the snaking hallways. "I must learn all that I can of its strengths and weaknesses before I begin my hunt."
"It is the spawn of man and beast," he replied, mirroring the king's words.
"If you were there to see the construction of the labyrinth, did you see the creature in person?"
"I did," he replied with a nod. "Many years have passed, but that image is still burned into my mind like a brand. It was as though the Gods had taken two statues of soft clay and had melded them into one. It had the broad shoulders and torso of a man, but its face...its face was that of a bull, covered in coarse hair and sporting a pair of sharp horns. Below the knee, it had the cloven hooves of a beast of the field. Be wary, for it is stronger and more resilient than any man could hope to be, embodying the bestial traits of its father. Even the great heroes of myth would crumble before it were they to challenge its strength directly. No, only a warrior quick of both mind and blade will be able to overcome it."
"I am well versed in military strategy," Leandros replied proudly.
"So I have heard," Daedalus continued with a shrewd look. "Your feints during the battle of Tegea are known to me. Your father was a master strategist, and he has clearly trained you well. But, I must warn you that this creature knows its prison well. You trespass in its home, and it will have committed the twists and turns of that place to memory over the years. While it may resemble a beast, and it might fight with the fury befitting a savage animal, only a fool would underestimate its intelligence."
They emerged into a large chamber, the burning torches that illuminated it reflecting off the hammered bronze of a hundred weapons. The walls were lined with racks of fine swords and daggers of all sizes, spears with leaf-shaped tips - even war axes and tridents of intricate design. There were straw mannequins wearing helmets, cuirasses, greaves, and bracers - made both from metal and studded leather, capes of fine silk adorning their shoulders. It was an armory fit for a king, and that was likely its very purpose.
"I have never seen metalworking of this quality," Leandros muttered as he walked along a rack of
kopis
blades. He lifted one of the flared swords, balancing it in his hands, admiring the beautiful engravings that ran down its length. He gave it an experimental swing, hearing it cut through the air with a whistle. "These must have been forged by the most skilled artisans in all of Greece."
