The Minotaur

She stood, almost because she had to. She felt refreshed and alive, rejuvenated and alert. Her senses seemed sharper, the strange world around her more clear and real. A deep calm washed over and through her. The Minotaur stood near, watching, waiting. She could smell it, that odd mix of man and beast. She could hear his labored breath and the slow drips of blood falling to the sand. She could feel its presence, its power, its supernatural strength. She even thought, for a moment, that she could hear its beating heart.

"Thank you." She said, holding the water skin out. The Minotaur took it, drank a small amount, then slung it over its shoulder on its long strap, and waited.

"What now?" Serenity enveloped her. She could not remember feeling so calm and focused, so centered and in the moment, so alive. She felt ready for anything.

The towering form leaned down with a grunt and picked the little sword off the ground. It tucked the blade under its rope waistband and made a motion with the other hand.

"You want me to follow?"

The great horns bobbed as it nodded.

"I will follow you."

It turned away and shuffled off into the maze, still holding its belly. She stayed close, but not too close. Her eyes had adjusted to the strange light but it would still be easy to lose her companion if she strayed.

Buoyed by the strange power of the water, she followed for what must have been miles. The Minotaur moved ever onward, lead by some impossible knowledge of this vast catacomb. Kasuma tried to count the lefts and rights, the turns and corners, the long straight sections and the steps she took, but it was impossible. Intricate intersections of five, six, seven or more passages came and went, twists and turns and ramps and tunnels passed, and always her guide moved without hesitation, ever onward.

A gnawing thought was evolving in her head. She could feel it more than anything else, and she had no evidence at all. But still...

"Do we travel east?"

It stopped and turned, looking back at her. The glittering blue eyes narrowed at her and the wicked horns tilted ever so slightly. It raised a massive arm and pointed, in roughly the direction they had been travelling.

"Ihhhsht."

"East?" It nodded slowly.

"Ihhhsht." It pointed at her, then at its head. 'You know?' it seemed to ask.

"I've always been able to find my way. Not down here, but...usually. I just felt like we were heading east."

"Hruh huh huh..." It turned and resumed the long trek. But that noise...had it...chuckled?

Hours unknown, miles untold passed under her feet, and still they walked. She should be exhausted, she should be unable to move, she should be feeble with hunger and yet she matched the creature step for step. She could still feel it, smell it, hear it. She thought the bleeding had stopped but the noise of its breathing was slowly becoming more labored. She began to worry that it might expire before they reached...wherever they were going.

When she finally smelled the sea in the air, she was actually becoming tired. The moisture and salt were unmistakable, and before long she could hear waves crashing against the rocks. They had travelled all the way to the sea! The city was fifty miles inland – had they really walked that far? The unseen ceiling lowered now and she saw ragged cave rocks above her. The passage narrowed and contracted and angled down as the roar of the ocean grew nearer. They turned a sharp corner and she was assaulted by the light of day!

She shielded her eyes and moved forward, past the Minotaur and through more twists and turns, and then she was out. She stood on a thin wisp of beach at the foot of a massive rock wall, hundreds of feet high. This was the great eastern sea, called the Eversea, the Morning Sea. She had never seen it and she gazed in wordless wonder at its vastness. It went on forever!

The hour was late and the sun was low in the west, long since passed out of sight from the base of the towering escarpment. The light was low and red, the clouds painted in vivid colors. Had the sun blazed overhead she would have had to seal her eyes shut, but in the fading glow of the day she could blink away the tears and pain well enough.

"Kha-ssshoo-ah." The beast was making noise deeper in the cave, the harsh guttural voice echoing off the stone walls. Was it calling her back? Was it calling...her name? She walked back into the darkness, around a corner and back to her guide. Her rescuer?

"You are setting me free?" It nodded his great, shaggy head.

Yes

"So...you aren't down here to kill the king's enemies?"

"Phaugh!" No.

She stood there, considering the creature. In the brighter light that filtered through the cave she could see him better. His face was...monstrous, yes, but not so terrible to look upon. He looked not so much a bull, but a midpoint between man and bull. The snout was extended, with large flaring nostrils, but the mouth was not the simple cud-chewing slash across a beast's face. The lips moved as it tried to speak. She wondered if he could even smile. His face was hairy, but between the great horns there seemed an almost normal head of man hair, ruddy brown and unruly, ragged and unkempt to be sure, but somehow...normal. She fought a brief urge to ruffle his hair with her fingers as one might do to a child. A tuft of shaggy beard grew from his chin, further marking the man inside the beast. The longer she looked at him the less animal she saw, and the more human came to light.

But the eyes – those were the eyes of a man. Deep blue, sharp and bright, they twinkled and glittered with intelligence and compassion. They captivated her. She stood there in the dim cave, staring up at him, lost in his eyes.

"You are no monster at all. What are you?"

His heavy hand lifted to grasp a horn, as if to put lie to her words.

I am a beast, he seemed to say.

"Krrrrrsht." He rumbled quietly.

"Cursed?" He nodded slowly.

They regarded each other in silence as the waves sang their eternal song. What could she offer this poor creature? She looked at his wound and recoiled – he was barely holding himself in. Any human would have died long ago, and who could say if this cursed creature would last much longer? Had he given his life to set her free?

"What do I do?"

He stirred, sighed deeply, and lifted the water skin from its place. He hefted the bladder, feeling its weight. He opened it, lifted it high and let a thin trickle fall into his mouth, then stopped it and handed it to her. As she took it, he began to make signs with his large hands.

'Drink.' She drank.

'Drink.' She drank the rest of the water. It was still bracingly cold and it filled her again with vitality and vigor.

'You. Walk. That way. 2 days.'

"Go south along the shore for two days?" He nodded slowly.

"And then?" He shrugged.

"Phrrreeeeee," he rasped.

"And what about you?" He hung his great shaggy head in the shadows and slowly turned his head side to side.

"Nawht phrrrreeeee."

One massive hand reached out from the dark and touched her cheek gently. She had long since learned not to recoil from the unwanted touch of a man – that would usually earn her a beating – but this time she found she did not have the desire to pull away. His rough finger caressed her face for a brief moment, then fell. He pulled the sword from his waist cord and dropped it in the sand at her feet. Again he signed.

'You. Go.'

And then he was gone, back into the cavern, into the darkness, into his cage.

Kasuma picked up the sword, walked back out to the beach and stood there, alone. More alone than she had ever been. She had been third of nine siblings, nine that lived past infancy at least, and she had always been surrounded by family as she grew up, a simple farmer. When the raiders came and took her, she had been pressed into a barge full of other slaves, surrounded and oppressed. In the slave pens she had never been alone. Even in her cell there were others all around her. Now she stood on the edge of an endless sea, a belly full of energy to keep her moving for two days and nights, enough to take her back to...what? Civilization? What was left for her there? What would stop the first band of men she encountered from snaring her, abusing her, and selling her back to the same slave pens she had just escaped? There was no home left to go back to. The raiders had seen to that. She had been a farmer, but how could she ever return to that life? What young man would marry her, now that she was spoiled and broken? She could never give a man babies; the slavers had hurt her, cut her so she could not bear children. Of what use was she out there?

She looked up at the darkening sky and felt exposed, vulnerable, and for the first time in days, truly scared. Stars began to emerge from the blue black canopy above. She never did like the stars. They always felt like eyes staring down at her, ravens and other dark fiends of the night watching her with malevolence.

More and more eyes opened in the night as the last of the sunlight fled. She could feel every evil thing in the world pressing down on her, guided straight to her by those merciless unblinking eyes in the sky. Her fear had been growing to dread, and dread threatened to grow into panic. This world had no place for her, no need of her, no kindness to give her. It was as if she were...cursed.

Kasuma raced back into the cave, back into the glowing underworld that held her only solace now. He needed her. Damn her foolishness! How long had she stood there like an idiot? Two hours? Three? The strange potion gave her a deep well of strength but seemed to dull her sense of time.

She tried to remember the path they had taken, tried to see their passage in the sand at her feet, but before long she stopped, uncertain and unable to continue. Six paths led from here – had they come from that direction, to the left? Or up from that tunnel ahead? Damn! She searched the ground but found no trace. Had they come here at all? Damn! Think you stupid girl! Think!

She closed her eyes and clenched her fists, trying to force her brain to come up with an answer. But none came. There was nothing here but empty silence for her ears, sand between her toes, that dim hazy light from gods know where for her eyes, and...wait!

She inhaled deeply through her nose. The water had sharpened all her senses, she just needed to use the right one! Again she smelled the air, and this time she had her answer.

"There!" she yelled as she set off at a sprint. Down through the tunnel, up a gentle slope, the second left in a large conjunction of passages and portals, past openings left and right in a long straight line, right, then left, then up and a gentle left, on and on she went unerringly guided by her nose. His scent filled her head, no longer the stink of some beast, but the musk and hot blood of a man, a man in need.

She cried out when she found him, crumpled into a heap in a corner. She crashed into him, being wary of his sharp horns, and shook him.

"Don't die on me you damn brute! Wake up!"

"Hrrraughmmmmph!" He shuddered awake, his blue eyes unfocussed and blurry. It took a moment for him to fix his gaze on the woman.

"Kha-ssshoo-ah."

"Yes, Kashooah." She wondered if he could see the tears in her eyes in this dim light. "What do I do? Do you have a lair somewhere? Do you have bandages?"

He lifted a hand and waved it side to side, then paused. Then he lifted the empty water skin and pointed to it, then to Kasuma's mouth.

"I don't understand."

He turned his head and brought the sharp spike of his horn down, then lifted her hand to it. He poked her, breaking her flesh and bringing up a bead of blood.

"Ow! What was that for?"

Again he lifted the water skin, this time turning it over and shaking a few last drops out onto his hand. He rubbed a great thumb, moistened with a drop of water, across her skin and the tiny puncture was almost gone.

"The water heals?" He nodded his head, slowly.

"Then why did you give it all to me? You could have saved yourself!"

The answer to that one was apparently beyond his meager sign language to convey.

"Alright, you need more water. Where do I go?"

The great beast sighed deeply as if steeling himself for a great task. He raised a hand and pointed down a passage before him.

"I go that way. Then?" One finger, then left. Three fingers, then right. "The first left and third right?" Yes, he nodded. Four fingers, then down and gently left. "Pass 4 lefts and take the one that goes down and a little left." Yes, he nodded.

The instructions were not brief. He made her repeat them as he went along, starting over many times. When she felt she understood them well she started to rise. He caught her arm and pulled her back down. With the massive hand which had once nearly crushed the life out of her, he held her face gently. He made no noise, but his eyes...she knew then that he could see the tears in her eyes before, because she could see them in his now.

She ran, empty water skin in hand, working over his instructions like a mantra. Left, third right, past four lefts and gentle left down, hard right, straight until a wall, then left. On and on she went, her bare feet pounding the soft sand as she ran. She never once wondered if she could retrace her route. She knew she could. She had to! She chanted the instructions over and over until they were a prayer, a ward against fear, a promise. Time slid by and she ran on; hours and miles flew by.

She knew the end of the instructions was near, but she was unprepared for what she found. She flew out of a large archway and into a cavernous room the size of the great arena so far above. The ceiling was a high dome supported by wide stone arches. She had never imagined a room so big. In the center of the ceiling was a gaping hole, the exit of the pit from the arena. She went to the center of the room, under the hole. Three bodies lay in tangled heaps, victims of the day's games. It was difficult to tell the distance in the odd light of the caverns, but it looked like a fall that would kill anyone. There were no survivors down here. No fallen gladiator would ever live to see the beast, let alone be killed by it.

She had paused in her flight, but the mission intruded on her wonder. She was near his lair now. She looked around, for a moment worried that she had lost her way, but the exit was obvious. Many passages lead from the arena, but one was far more grand than the others. That was her goal. She ran.

Down a long hall with no side passages, she found it. The room was large and round, ringed in pillars with a ceiling perhaps twice as tall as the Minotaur. Compared to the pit room it seemed almost cozy, but it was similar. There were several exits around the perimeter. Stout stone furniture stood in the room; a table, a bench, what must have been a bed, covered in a motley mess of rags and scraps of fur. All over the walls were pictures, murals, beautiful artwork buried and unseen by mortal man. But she had no time for that.

Straight across the room an archway yawned wide, more ornate than the rest. Through it she dashed, following the tinkling, musical bubbling of water. The well was simple and beautiful, a large marble bowl on a pedestal caught a steady stream of crystal clear water spilling from a crack in the wall. She quickly filed the skin, then took a deep drink from it herself. She knew she needed every bit of energy she could hold and the water seemed to give her less than it had before. Perhaps she could only use it so much before it failed her. She refilled the vessel and sealed the stopper, then turned to go back.

Hours and miles, hours and miles. She ran as fast as she could, dashing down corridors and racing across the sand, singing her instructions backward now though she barely needed them. She could feel the way. The water was making her part of this place, even if it were no longer providing the vigor it once had. She began to tire, her legs became heavy and her lungs labored with the strain. She wondered briefly if it would turn her into a beast as well, but she realized she didn't care. She just needed to get back in time.

Finally, she found him. Just where he had been, propped up in a corner as if sleeping, he still waited. Again she crashed into him, but this time he did not wake. She grabbed a long horn and shook his head, and still he did not stir.

"No! No, damn you!" She slapped his bestial face hard, her hand stinging from the blow. "Wake up! Wake up!" Silence.

She put her head down to his chest and pressed an ear against him. The hair of his chest tickled her face and his skin was warm. Please, she thought, please be alive. Moments passed and all she could hear was her own breathing, her own blood in her ears, her own breaking heart. Then she felt it. She couldn't have heard it, it was too faint to hear. No, she felt his heart beat feebly against his ribcage. He was still in there!

She poured some of the water into his gaping mouth, then moved the hand across his belly and poured some on his wound. The blood washed away, and for a moment she could see the terrible opening in his gut. How had he survived as long as he did? She poured more water straight into the gash, then more into his mouth, praying.

Finally, he groaned, a deep lowing sound that would have terrified her just days before. Now she found it joyful. She could see the wound slowly closing, healing before her eyes. His hand was grasping feebly and she pushed the half-full wineskin into it. He raised the skin and drained it. He dropped it wearily next to him and looked at her with his bright blue eyes. She saw that he could indeed smile with that strange mouth.

Exhaustion overwhelmed her. The magic of the water had run its course and left her feeling like en empty shell. The stress and emotional turmoil had also taken their toll, and Kasuma could no longer keep her eyes open. She turned, sat in the sand and leaned against her new friend, and in moments she was asleep.

She dreamed. She was in a dark place, but warm and comfortable. Safe. She stirred from sleep and turned her face into a soft rug or blanket. She let her fingers splay through it, feeling the warmth underneath. It took a moment to sink in. She opened her eyes and looked up. The Minotaur carried her in his massive arms and she was nestled into his broad chest. She had not felt so safe since she was a child. She curled up a bit and sighed, falling quickly back to sleep.

When next she woke she was on a hard surface, much less comfortable than the arms of the beast. She sat up and looked around. She was in his lair. In his bed, for lack of a better word. He had bunched the scraps of cloth and fur together to form a makeshift mattress. It helped a little but she still woke aching and stiff. Her muscles burned and she felt as if she had lost a fight. She stood and stretched and immediately regretted it. Every part of her hurt. At least now she had time to examine the room better.

The room was fairly clean and seemed new. In relation to the rest of the maze, at least. The marble columns were white and clean, the sand...goodness! The sand was completely flat, combed and smoothed. Only her footprints marred the perfect surface. She felt suddenly guilty for the intrusion, for disturbing the floor. Well, how else was she to move around? She set that worry aside and moved to the outer walls to view the murals.

Quickly she found the beginning of the picture story. She was glad there was no writing as she had never learned the way of the dead words. But the pictures told the story very well.

There was a man, proud and strong, rich and powerful. No, he was the king; she could see his golden crown. He built a grand palace and had many women and animals and fine things. But he was cruel and heartless. One panel showed him directing the torture and murder of many people. He caused the great labyrinth to be built, and then the arena over it to entertain himself. He made sacrifices to the gods for...she could not tell. A large panel had been ripped down and destroyed many years ago. After that, there was the beast. Furious, powerful, it killed many men in the arena until they drove it down into the pit. The final panel showed the creature waiting at the bottom of the great shaft to hunt and kill those poor souls who fell in.