The White Bull Read online

  "Of course, sire." There had been just a hint of a momentary change in my young friend's voice when he spoke of the Labyrinth. I thought to myself that he was doubtless going to need all of his heroic nerve to make himself enter that place again for any reason. But still I had little doubt that his nerve would be equal to the task; and of course I had full confidence in my own ability as guide. It was the other problems, including the Metal Man and an army of human enemies, about which I did not feel so confident.

  Remaining in or near the cave, we waited for Heracles through the rest of that day, and the early part of the following night, meanwhile sharing between us the small amounts of food we had each brought. But the strong man did not appear, and at last Theseus made up his mind to do the best he could without that formidable helper. About two hours after sunset the king and I started down the path from the cave.

  "Sir, what are we to do when we actually reach the Labyrinth? As you know, it is heavily guarded."

  "Well find a way to get in. Trust me, Daedalus. As long as you can guide me once we are inside."

  Our plan, which I had been waiting to hear elaborated, apparently did not exist except in the most rudimentary form. And the skeleton was going to be fleshed out by the King of Athens at the last moment, using whatever mental materials he might then find ready at hand. At about this point I became better acquainted with despair than I had been for some time. Then a happy thought struck me.

  "There may be one person living near the palace, sire, who would be willing to help us."

  "So? Who's that?"

  I told my lord of the devoted slave Thorhild. Many months had passed since I had seen her, but I believed her devotion had been genuine, and it seemed at least possible that she might still be dwelling outside the palace proper. Alternatively some loyal relative or close friend might be there, available to carry a message to her.

  We determined to do what we could to seek out Thorhild, I suppose simply because we had no better hope. Theseus, once an even faintly better hope was offered, admitted freely that it would be sheer madness to simply try to sneak into the Labyrinth on our own. He questioned me several times on all its entrances and exits, and I told him of all I knew—of all but one. That portal was a secret one, that might conceivably be of benefit to us if we were trying to get out of the Labyrinth—but it would, I thought, be of no real use to adventurers insanely bent on getting in, two mice approaching a huge trap. Of course, as the king and I both realized, it was possible that there had been extensive reconstruction of maze or palace, or additional building since our hurried departure from the island. In that case even I might prove inadequate as a guide.

  Having walked until near midnight, we decided to rest until morning before trying to locate Thorhild, and turned off the road into a thicket where a murmuring stream promised water. Theseus, ever the hearty warrior, thought nothing of spending a night in the open. And in his company I felt considerably easier about it myself.

  We slept soundly enough, wrapped in our cloaks, and next morning were up at the first light and on our way. When we reached the top of the next hill, the House of the Axe and the Labyrinth were in sight before us, with Heraklion and the sea visible beyond them.

  As I recalled, Thorhild had lived not far outside the walls of House and Labyrinth proper, in a quarter of the adjoining town that was largely given over to housing the more dependable slaves and servants of the crown. These chattels lived in a state of freedom actually greater than was enjoyed by many who were not called slaves; Minos had believed in rewarding competence.

  "My Lord Theseus?"

  "Yes?"

  "I will be much less recognizable in the eyes of most people here than you will. At the same time, Thorhild is much more likely to recognize me than you." That young woman would also, I thought, be more likely to trust me than to trust a king, but I did not say that to the king's face. "Therefore I should be the one to go to her door. It will be better if you remain out of sight somewhere nearby, while I try to establish contact."

  At first Theseus would hear nothing of any plan that put him in a position of lesser danger. But eventually he was so far persuaded by the force of my arguments that he consented to remain standing across the street, face muffled in his cloak, while I knocked at the humble portal that I thought must be Thorhild's door. No one answered my repeated knocking, which was hardly surprising since at that hour most of the able-bodied servants were at work within the palace.

  There was nothing for the two of us to do but seek shelter somewhere for the day, and return at night. Accordingly we retreated toward the hills again. No one hailed us or questioned us as we passed, but I was sure that a good many people turned their heads to look after us as we walked through the town.

  Theseus and I spent the remainder of the day hiding in a hedge that formed the border between two olive groves. This time our conversation lagged. No doubt the king would have preferred trying to enter the Labyrinth without the aid of any local person, but our brief sojourn in the town had shown us that there were plainly too many guards about, not to mention other people, to allow any rational hope that such an attempt would succeed.

  As soon as darkness was completely fallen we made our way back to the servants' quarter of the town and tried again to contact Thorhild. This time the door burst open at once when I tapped on it, and a host of armed men in palace livery came pouring out. I was roughly seized, and then abruptly released, as my captors lost a hand or two to the sword of Theseus. My companion had needed no more than the space of a heartbeat to cross the street and fall upon them. The skirmish was a brisk one, and I did the best I could with my simple staff to aid my sovereign; but the few blows I could deal out were not enough. The odds against us were far too great. I saw a circle of spearmen closing in, and someone with a net in the act of entangling the king's swordarm; and then I was struck from behind upon the head, and for the time being I knew no more.

  * * *

  STUDY HALL

  When my senses at last returned to me, I found myself lying on the stone floor of a small cell, enshrouded in almost total darkness. A chain of bronze hobbled my ankles, leaving little scope for movement, while another chain pinned my wrists even more closely in front of me. The cell was cool and dank, the sound of running water reached me from some distant source, and I knew in my first moments of. consciousness that I was somewhere in the Labyrinth.

  Slowly stretching forth my linked hands, I touched a wall. From the rough texture of the stone I knew that I was in one of the regions of the great maze from which sunlight was perpetually excluded; whether day or night ruled outside at the moment was something that I could not immediately determine, nor could I guess how long I might have been unconscious. There being nothing else to do, I sat up, prayed to such gods as might be conceivably interested in hearing from me, and took stock of my injuries. Fortunately, aside from a small swelling on the back of my aching head, it seemed that little damage had been done. My clothing, except for a loincloth, had been taken from me. My other belongings, weapons and the small pack that had contained my wings, were of course gone as well.

  A jug and a small slab of bread had been left on the stone floor beside me, a discovery that I found heartening as far as it went. I lifted and swirled the jug and found it full of liquid. I sniffed at these offerings, and then decided that it would be foolish to worry about my captors drugging or poisoning me when it was in their power to murder me at any moment. Finding myself extremely thirsty, I raised the jug to my lips and drank deeply of the water it contained.

  Then, with minor difficulty because of the ankle-chain, I got to my feet. The next job was to explore my cell. My only hope in this effort, such as it was, lay in discovering or reminding myself of some peculiarity in the construction that would offer me a chance of getting out—so far this thought, this hoped-for hope, was so dim and remote that it scarcely attained conscious form.

  But the exploration was trivial and futile. Everything that came wi
thin range of my groping hands and straining vision only tended to confirm my first impression of the place in which I had been confined. The walls were of heavy stones, mortared closely together, and arching together overhead at twice a man's height from the floor. The floor was of stone and wood, with several small openings in it, too small to permit me to think of squeezing my body through one of them. Besides, having designed the drains, I knew that they offered no way out. Water, I knew, was running underneath my floor, moving too slowly for me to hear it even in the general silence; the running water I could hear intermittently was at some considerable distance. Perhaps my finely designed plumbing was now poorly maintained, and had recently begun to leak.

  Shuffling slowly between the walls, I reached my cell's door and stood in front of it. This door was a wooden slab, armored with metal plates in the vicinity of the lock, and pierced only with a small metal eye. The corridor outside was not quite so dark as the chamber in which I was confined, and now I could confirm my location precisely and beyond all possibility of a mistake. From certain clues that were visible in the corridor, I knew that my cell was the second in a row of six, occupying one side of a perpetually gloomy passage. This small portion of the Labyrinth had indeed been designed as a place of confinement.

  I listened carefully, but at the moment all was quiet except for that faint, continual, and distant splash. Was it possible that my king and comrade Theseus was even now locked up in the next cell? Possible, of course, but I feared he had been slain.

  I was about to call out in a low voice, when a new sound, very faint, reached my ears from somewhere nearby. It was a faint and hopeless weeping, that certainly could not come from the King of Athens.

  "Ssst! Who's there?" I tried to pitch my voice to reach the next cell, or cells, without unnecessarily disturbing any guards who might be dozing at some greater distance down the corridor.

  The almost silent sobbing broke off in a faint intake of breath. Moments later words reached me in soft but joyful whisper: "Master Daedalus?"

  "Is that Thorhild, then? Thank the gods that you are still alive, at least. Where is Theseus?"

  "Theseus, sir?" There was a pause. "But I know nothing of the Lord Theseus. Men came and arrested me at work—I suppose it was yesterday afternoon—and I have been here in this dark place since then. But are you really Master Daedalus? Oh sir, I would be very glad to have you here, more or less with me, except�except—"

  "Yes, yes, of course. Well, we could both of us be worse off than we are." I thought I could understand, now, the full extent of my master's royal foolishness in coming here, and of mine in following him, with no better suggestion to make than trying to make contact with Thorhild. Of course one or both of us must have been recognized, knocking in daylight at her door—servants are not ordinarily blind or stupid, unless they choose to be. And so the queen's loyal soldiers, or the Bull's, had been waiting for us there when we came back in the evening.

  Soon footsteps echoed in the corridor, and a pair of bronze-helmeted guards appeared to un-lock the door of my cell. They removed the chain from my ankles, though they left in place the one that bound my wrists. Then they led me away.

  We were headed in the general direction of the Bull's quarters, and once my escort hesitated, as if they were on the verge of getting lost. Twice we came within sight of a small window, as I had known we must sooner or later, and I was able to see that it was indeed daylight outside. We turned aside before coming near the Bull's private chambers. The room that was our destination was as windowless as my little cell, though several times as large.

  I trembled as I entered, because I saw that Queen Pasiphaë herself was waiting there for me, looking no different than when I had seen her last before she left with Minos on their royal tour of diplomacy. The queen was dressed in formal robes, and seated on a high chair, behind a high table of Egyptian make.

  My escorts cast themselves down before her, and hurled me to the floor with them, of course.

  The queen's voice sounded neither angry nor excited. "Arise, Daedalus. And tell me why you have come back to Crete."

  I got to my feet slowly. "Majesty, I mean neither you nor your people any harm." Which was true enough. "I have come here in search of the being who is called Dionysus."

  The queen considered that claim for a moment. She sat on her high chair almost in formal state, with a thin diadem on her natural-looking black hair, that must be, I thought, subtly dyed.

  Then she demanded in a sharper tone: "What have you to do with the invader Theseus of Athens?"

  "As you know, madam, he has been my friend for a long time. I am now in his service, and it is at his command that I seek Dionysus." I drew breath, emboldened at the queen's evident lack of anger. "As for his being an invader of Crete, I am sure that the king has never—"

  "Never mind. Tell me what you have seen of my daughters since you fled this island."

  As truthfully as I could, I related to the queen my experience on Naxos, including my encounter with her older daughter there, but omitting all details of Ariadne's part in the orgy. I mentioned having heard that Phaedra now ruled as queen in Athens, and to Phaedra's mother I expressed my regrets that I had not seen her royal daughter since before my flight from Crete.

  Before I had to deal with another question there was a stir at the doorway behind me, as of people arriving, and the queen unceremoniously motioned me to stand aside. Turning as I did so, I beheld to my vast relief King Theseus, walking unaided and apparently not seriously hurt. The king was undoubtedly a prisoner, for golden fetters manacled his wrists together in front of him, and he still wore the simple traveler's clothing as he had been wearing when we were taken. He was of course not thrown to the floor by his accompanying guards. Nor did they grip his arms, but rather followed, watchfully but respectfully, a step behind him as he strode into the chamber.

  For a moment neither of the monarchs spoke. Theseus, though he must have been aware of my presence, did not take his eyes from the queen.

  She boldly returned his stare, running her eyes lasciviously over the stalwart frame of the young king. At last Pasiphaë said: "You may be sure of one thing, Athenian. Never will I allow my torturers to do anything that might spoil such a body."

  "I had never thought you would." Theseus sounded quite unperturbed.

  Slowly the queen's gaze turned to me. "As for you, Daedalus, I am inclined to believe your story. But I have not made up my mind about your fate."

  Inwardly I trembled, but I said nothing. Theseus beside me was silent too; no doubt both of us realized that for him to try to speak on my behalf might well be counterproductive.

  Queen Pasiphaë turned her gaze once more on him. "I hear that my daughter rules this day in Athens."

  "That's right. Phaedra rules till I return, and I am sure that she rules loyally."

  "Well, well. My husband and I were once sure of her loyalty too… all in all, I do not regret her going. Of course I have a mother's feeling for her all the same—and for her sister too. But it is interesting that now Athens has a foreign queen. A very young queen too, and newly installed… tell me, King Theseus, how much control do you believe your bride will have over the generals and admirals who are accustomed to taking their orders from your late great father, or yourself?"

  Theseus said nothing. But I thought that he did not appear unduly worried.

  The queen went on: "I think that my next step must be to send an embassy to Athens. To explain to your dear bride, and to those admirals and generals, that circumstances here prevent your leaving as soon as you might wish to leave. That we, you and I, are in the process of negotiating a treaty—yes, a treaty that will be of benefit to—well, to both our houses. There are matters of trade and tribute to be discussed."

  Leaving the silent Theseus with much to think about, Pasiphaë swung her gaze to me again. "Artisan, we have your wings, you know. Are they the ones you wore when you flew out of the Labyrinth before?"

  "No, Majesty. The
se are an improved model."

  "Someday, soon, I think I shall want to see you fly. With a long chain, of course, around your ankle… but for the moment I believe you. Your life is safe—for the moment."

  I bowed, feeling unheroic relief.

  "Talus is no longer commanded to kill you on sight. But you will remain in prison for a time—no house arrest. When the greatest artisan in the world has built for me a perfect prison, why should I not employ it? Soon, Daedalus, we will speak of building wings."

  I would have liked to know whether the Bronze Man accepted orders directly from the queen, or from any other human being. But I was in no position to ask questions.

  The queen was standing now, and everyone else in the room save Theseus, knelt down. Then in a moment, in a swirl of golden robes, Pasiphaë had swept out of the room.

  I now expected that Theseus and I would be quickly returned to our respective cells, and I was hoping to have a chance to speak with the king before this happened. But before the guards could escort either of us away, there was another approach in the corridor outside, and the White Bull himself appeared.

  It was a startling appearance. The Bull was being carried on a crude-looking litter by six strong students, and they had some trouble in maneuvering this awkward conveyance through the corridor, and the doorway into the room.

  The occupant of the litter was Sitting upright, as royalty customarily do when carried, but this inhuman body was strapped into its chair, and it was plain at second glance that he had little power of movement.

  At first the White Bull largely ignored Theseus, which may have surprised the King of Athens, but did not really surprise me, who had a better understanding of the great educator. After all, in the eyes of the Bull, Theseus was no more than a failed, delinquent student without any notable potential.

  The litter had to be maneuvered slowly into the room, then parked wedged into such space as was left when the student bearers had moved the high chair and table out of the way as far as possible. Seated in this position, the Bull had to turn his head to look at us directly.