The Sons of Memory - 6. Battlefield

Theseus didn't sleep much. All his senses were too aroused to find peace. He still smelled Arian when his head hit the pillow, rosemary and a little of wild animal. Sex, where the sheets were still damp from his juice. He also thought about Ricos and matched both. But Ricos - he was sure - would find pleasure tonight in the arms of Otos and Pallas. But he wasn't envious, for Arian was a man he had dreamt of for a long time. He was all man. Theseus almost forgot that he had just found him and had to leave him forever. Would he fulfil his promise and bring the weapons and fight with him against the strange man-bull?

Theseus was awakened by a soft touch on his cock. Lips brushed the sensitive skin and when he opened his eyes, he looked into a glass green world.

"Do this again, please," Theseus murmured still half asleep but the green world vanished. Arian pulled him up to his feet.

"Next time," he said very low. "First we must save your life."

Theseus saw a bowl with fresh water and towels and went naked to wash himself quickly. Then he took the bread Arian handed him, crumbled a little of it and sent a silent prayer to Apollo and Athena. He relied on them, no matter what, like he had many times before. Nonetheless his heart pounded painfully. If he should lose his life today it would be together with Arian. Perhaps. How brave was Arian, he would see soon.

Crete's prince had stepped behind him, pressed his erection between Theseus' cheeks and embraced him. Theseus body responded despite his fear but Arian made no move to touch him. "Stay so. There's nothing better for a fight than a sexual arousal. We both will be great."

Theseus swallowed the rest of the bread, turned in Arian's arms and felt his straining erection under the loin cloth. He wore nothing more, but his body glistened with oil.

"Here," Arian tossed Theseus a loin cloth too and poured oil over his body. Theseus was used to it; the oil made it difficult for an assailant to catch him. He closed his eyes and enjoyed Arian's strong fingers before he felt his lips being parted and engaged in a firey kiss. He moaned and stroked over the prince's body, but Arian stepped back.

"Come now." He gave him a sword and a dagger which he put into the belt of the loin cloth. Then he followed Arian.

It was shortly before sunrise. Knossos' palace lay in silence still when they passed sleeping guards. Arian explained he had given them a sedative as a good night drink.

The entrance to the labyrinth was a cave in the mountains. Arian stopped and pointed to an iron gate. "There will be some light inside coming from holes in the ceiling. The rest is by the entrance. Torch light."

Abruptly he turned his head. "Ssht," he made and listened. Theseus heard nothing. "I thought I heard footsteps. Pull off your sandals," he said. Theseus did and stood then as Arian did: barefeet, oily and with a still aching erection. He didn't know what happened with him. And he wasn't sure what would guide him through this wicked maze: the excitement of killing a brute or the excitement to devour Arian afterwards. With skin and bones . . .

Arian leaned against the iron gate and it swung inward. They were met with gloom, a foul smell, wet and filled with fear: the stench of men meeting death. Theseus curled up his nose and wiped over his hair band around his forehead. Arian tugged at his braid, falling down to his hips.

"Did you never cut it?" Theseus asked.

"Huh? Never since I was a baby." Arian smiled. "The game is on. Follow me."

He entered the labyrinth, stopped shortly to bind the red woollen thread around an iron ring next to the gate and took a torch. Then both vanished around the first corner.

A dark shadow moved between the small trees and sandaled feet followed their way.

Water dropped from the walls. It was cool but Theseus sweated. At his side he saw Arian's body reflecting the light. Drops of sweat ran along his cheeks. He reached out his hand and stopped Theseus' walk. He listened again. "Don't you hear that?"

A sinister sniffing. Theseus got goosebumps. "I don't mean this sniffing. There are human steps."

"It can't."

But Arian's senses were sharp. Nonetheless he went on. Again a sniff. Brutish swelling nostrils. Scratching in darkness, then stomping feet.

"Funny," Arian shivered. "I thought he had no hooves. Just human feet."

"Have you ever seen him?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Ssht!" Arian flashed at him annoyed. He carefully held the ball of wool and watched its run behind them. Theseus had not known the way back for a long time. Too many turns and corners.

"You've seen him? Where?" he asked again.

Arian stopped and leaned against a wall, made from square stones. "When he was a baby. New born."

Theseus watched him attentively but Arian shook his head. "Come along, we have no time for a women's chattering."

He peered around a corner but it was a dead end. They turned and tried another way. Wedged in those high walls that reached to the mountain's ceiling, Theseus felt sick. Already now he longed to see the sun and feel the endless blue sky above his head. Sweat drenched his loin cloth; his erection had gone long time ago. How could he have thought it would be a lazy walk?

A roar sounded as coming from behind them, making both jump. But their swords didn't tremble in their hands. Arian just dropped the ball of red wool and it rolled away, Arian followed quickly. He rose again and saw a shadow on the wall. A horned head, big with an open muzzle, his beefy cock sticking out, strong and full of life. Arian gulped empty and beckoned Theseus, who crept nearer. He snatched a glimpse of the silhouette before it was gone. All that was left was a hoarsely breathing, hot and heavy.

"The centre of this labyrinth must be near."

Theseus sweated like mad. The handle of his sword was slippery. Again a roar, a scraping over cold stone. Near. Close. A cry. Running feet, splashing over stone and through water puddles. Blindly they ran behind, tripping over the red thread, but everything was silent again.

"There!" Theseus' arm pointed to the center of the maze. A bed with dishevelled clothes. From the ceiling hung a rope with a bucket. Presumably someone was feeding him this way. Surely he couldn't live by eating and waiting seven years for a supply of young sacrificed men.

Arian tripped over bones. Grey, strangely gleaming bones. Nibbled, clean and neat. Some of them still stood as the skeleton of the men they used to be. Arian and Theseus stood and stared, then both looked into each other's eyes. A shadow gliding over the walls. Horns, a hairy head, hanging throat, muscled arms, hands with nails, bent and strong like claws. He was chasing another man, jumping into the room like hole.

"Ricos!" Theseus shouted. "Watch out!" But the Minotaur started to jump. He was over Ricos in a flash. Ricos fell to the ground, a fleshy, iron hard bull's cock pressing between the crack of his buttocks.

"No!" A mutual scream from two throats; swords flashing in the torch light, sticking in fixtures on the walls.

The red thread was used up and stretched. Arian noticed it in a small corner of his mind, then he saw Theseus running shouting to the brute, swing his sword. Ricos' movements were feeble, weak and finally subsided. The Minotaur must have broken his spine. He panted, slavered, licked with long, rough, red tongue on Ricos' neck and dug his huge cock into Ricos' body, his blood-shot eyes contorted and watching Theseus running to him with pulled sword. The blond one was coming from the other side. He smelled no fear, just resolution. He growled dangerously.

"Up, you brute. Get up!" Theseus shouted. Arian nodded and slipped over behind the bull's back. Slowly he rose, Ricos' didn't move.

"Ricos? Ricos? Are you all right?" Ricos' didn't move. Tears in Theseus' eyes clouded his vision. "You stupid thing. Why did you have to follow?"

Minotaur roared, the head bent back. The walls were trembling. Arian and Theseus circled around him, the bull-man turned with them, carefully watching from which side the attack would come.

The red thread suddenly lost it's ability to stretch and lay curled up like a long, red worm. Arian hesitated but forgot it instantly when the Minotaur jumped on him. He swung his sword and scraped Minotaure's shoulder. Blood splattered on him. Theseus attacked him from behind but missed him.

"Do you know the way out, Asterion?" Arian asked suddenly. Theseus wondered.

"Do you?" Arian shouted.

Asterion shook his head in circles. It could mean everything. Arian made a jump, and pressed his sword against Minotaur's throat. Both fell to the ground, next to Ricos. Asterion panted. Saliva flew in tiny flecks from his muzzle.

"Tell me and you'll live." Arian hissed. Theseus didn't understand but stepped over Minotaur's body, straddling it and threatening him with his sword. A wrong idea for Asterion kicked him in his private parts, Theseus whined, fell onto his back and hit his head on the ground; the sword flying away in a high arch. For a few seconds he saw stars and lost consciousness.

When he awoke he saw Arian wrestling with the man with the bull's head. Theseus saw red and stormed up, couldn't find his sword and pulled out his dagger. He ran over and buried it deep into the place where he assumed Asterion's heart to be.

"Theseus, no!"

But Theseus didn't hear him; his senses were numb; he just felt the iron going deep into pliable flesh while he turned the hilt to make sure the monster wouldn't survive.

"Theseus! What have you done? We're locked up here forever!" Arian shouted.

Theseus stood dumbfounded.

Arian jumped to his feet. "Do you see the thread anywhere?" he still shouted. "It's gone. Somebody has cut the thread and taken it away."

Not believing Theseus searched the ground. It had vanished indeed.

All was silent except Asterion's laboured breath. A gargle came from his mouth and bloody spittle. He moaned, his hand pressed around the hilt of the dagger. Arian knelt beside the dying creature and looked for the first time into the sort of human-like eyes of his half-brother. Theseus did the same and was about to pull out the weapon when Arian stopped him.

"Please, the way out", he said.

Asterion's mind was clear. Words were forming in his head. He felt funny, light headed while he felt his life ebbing away. He knew he couldn't do any harm anymore but the fire within him was still there. If he could just move... Oddly he still felt aroused, the horny feelings hadn't subsided since he had received the deadly wound. It didn't hurt at all. Perhaps he was dead already. He turned his head a little and looked at Ricos' mute body and felt regret for the first time. What was the difference between life and death? The place where he was bound to go now was just a change from one prison into another.

"The way out." Arian's voice was sharper. "You know it."

Asterion's body moved; he tried to get up. Just a small trace of blood made a thin red line from the dagger, leading down to his abdomen. Arian held his arm and helped him. He swayed but stood.

"Take ... take him", came from his muzzle, more of a grunt, the thick tongue not able to form the words perfectly.

"He ... must be ... buried."

Theseus looked bewildered. "You can talk?"

"It ... was ... curse ..." Asterion gargled. "Fate."

"It was the guilt of our mother", Arian started. His voice was low and sad. "I'll explain later." And, looking at his half-brother, "You have killed too many youths. Perhaps you'll find salvation down in the Underworld. We pray to the Gods above. But you can do at least one good thing: show us the way out."

Asterion bent his head. He still swayed a little but was determined to go.

Arian stepped over to Ricos and lifted him from the ground. From his lips hung a thin bloody thread. Theseus lovingly wiped it away, as he did to the dust from his cheeks and forehead. Then he kissed him a last time.

The man with the bull's head set one foot after the other, out of the cave and seemed to follow secret signs. Theseus had taken Ricos' dead body from Arian's arms while the Cretan prince took Theseus' broken sword and a torch. He tried to figure out what signs Asterion was following and he thought that the stones of the labyrinth seemed to have different colours - or there was a different style in which the walls had been built.

Blood broke from the Minotaur's muzzle and he coughed bellowing. The torch threw his shadow on the walls: the hilt of the knife still in his breast - sticking out like his stiff cock used to be. Now he was beaten and he didn't regret it. It would all have an end now.

The vertically built stones led them to the exit. A mindful visitor would surely have noticed but the youths who had ended their lives here hadn't been visitors. Asterion's senses dwindled. He was weak. Very weak. The light started to fade. He broke down, his heart too painful to pump blood through his veins but it started to flutter.

Asterion bent beside him. He called his name.

"Stones ... vertical .... follow." Asterion coughed again and blood streamed from his mouth.

"I am ... sorry." His breath stopped.

Arian remained several seconds beside his body, closed his brother's eyes and then heaved the body over his shoulder; he didn't want to leave him here without a burial and his soul without hope of salvation.

Theseus took the torch and examined the walls. "Does he mean the stones are vertically laid? Look, all the walls here are vertical." They went slowly on, met several ways with horizontal stones and searched for the verticals. Arian wheezed, his brother's body was heavy, but then he saw light, the torch paled.

Arian and Theseus let out a mutual sigh. More of a moan. Both were blood soiled and carried two corpses outside the labyrinth, as far away from the entrance as they could, hidden within a small forest.

They lay down their burden onto the soft grass and stretched themselves out, backs leaning against a willow, eyes closed, thinking nothing. Theseus still held Ricos' body, slowly getting cold, and pain tugged at his heart. He wiped his face, smearing his blood all over and mingled it with Asterion's. "We must bury him", he whispered.

"Both", Arian whispered back.

Theseus shifted Ricos' body and slipped nearer to Arian. "What is your secret connection? You know his name. I didn't expect the Minotaur to have a name."

"He has." Arian answered tiredly. "It was a curse. My father's sin. He sinned against the Gods. Poseidon." He turned his eyes to Theseus. "Poseidon once gave my father a white bull that rose from the seas. He was the living proof that King Minos was a protege of the Olympic Gods. Of course the bull should be sacrificed but my father liked him too much, so he let him live and sacrificed another instead. " Arian paused. He plucked some leaves from the tree and played with them. Theseus waited. He saw how hard it was for Arian to speak about it. "Well, Poseidon got angry and inflamed a shameful lust in our mother. The lust for the white bull." He spoke hastily now and bent his head. "Asterion was the result."

"So you're half-brothers! That's how you saw him as a baby."

Arian nodded.

Theseus didn't know what to think. Of course the Gods are mighty and powerful. The humans on earth were just their puppets. Somehow he felt pity for Asterion. What a wasted life.

Arian took a deep breath. "The curse is over. The Minotaur is dead and my father has to keep his promise: no more tribute from Athens." A thin smile curled his lips when he looked at Athens' prince. "I told you we would be great."

From his shoulder dripped blood where Asterion's claws had hurt him but he didn't feel it. "Was he your lover?" he asked, pointing at Ricos.

Theseus nodded and Arian pulled him into a tight embrace. His arms snaked around Ricos too and connected them all three, then he rose. His face had lost its softness. "Work to do, Theseus. Do you have any idea who could have cut the thread?"

"Huh?" Theseus had forgotten the thread. He rose too and again took Ricos' body into his arms. He followed Arian who had stormed up, leaving the Minotaur behind, lying under the willow tree, the sun shining through the thin, long leaves, bathing his body for the first time in warm sunshine.