Lost in the Labyrinth, Patrice Kindl [read novel full .txt] 📗

a drugged sleep, Theseus had murdered Maira and the guard as well.

If I had been there he would have murdered me, too.

When the killings were over and silence had fallen, the two men who had armed Theseus dragged me, unresisting, away. Behind, I heard many feet running toward the Bull Pen.

Chapter Twelve

My World Unmade

TWO OF MY BROTHERS STILL LIVE: THE YOUNGEST, GLAUCUS AND Molus. The others, Androgeus, Deucalion, Catreus, and Asterius, have fallen to Aegeus or to his son, Theseus. My sister Ariadne is gone, fled with Theseus. Icarus and Daedalus are imprisoned. My mother lies paralyzed in her bed, felled by a seizure that has deprived her of speech and movement. And my father’s face bears the marks of my fingernails.

Which of these matters ought I to grieve over first? I cannot tell.

This is how it came to take place.

That night after I was dragged away, the Athenians—those who had arrived with Theseus—rallied to their prince. It was their footsteps I had heard running toward the Bull Pen. They fled from the Labyrinth down to the sea, where Ariadne waited with a ship.

Did Ariadne weep to see her brother’s blood staining her lover’s hands? I do not know, for I never again saw her among the living. Reflecting on these events in later days, I came to believe that she never intended to lead Theseus to Asterius, but simply to guide him, unarmed, to the place where his compatriots slept. Whatever tale Theseus might choose to tell in Athens, it was my father’s gift of the knife that led to the murders, not the clew of thread. Or so I think.

It had no doubt been their hope to steal away in silence, but my screams aroused my brothers Deucalion and Catreus. Not finding my father in his bed, they pursued the Athenians alone, not even pausing to collect a company of soldiers to aid them.

I was not present at the skirmish on the quay, and for that I am thankful. Ariadne may have been innocent in the death of her brother Asterius, but she could not be held blameless in the deaths of Catreus and Deucalion. That ship was fully armed, and Ariadne must have procured the sword that cleaved Catreus from throat to hip and the knife that plunged into Deucalion’s heart. Deucalion had not even had time to snatch up a weapon; the Athenians killed an unarmed man.

I myself was thrust half fainting into an empty chamber and there abandoned by my abductors. I did not pursue them; I had not the heart. Fool that I was, I thought that the worst had happened, that no further evil could touch us. I sank down on the floor and remained there, dully weeping, until the sun rose and a maidservant found me. Upon seeing my prostrate body she began to scream.

“Dead! Dead! I have found the Princess Xenodice, and she too is dead!”

“Oh, be quiet!” I said, sitting up. “I’m nothing of the sort.”

This further unnerved the girl, who shrieked without cessation until Graia arrived and slapped her soundly across the face.

No one had noticed my absence at first in all the confusion, but when Asterius, Maira, and the manservant were discovered dead, they began to search for me. Strangely, they thought that it was I who had departed with Theseus. It was believed that he had taken me as a hostage in his flight. No one thought to question Ariadne’s whereabouts until I asked for her, and only then did it become clear that she and a great quantity of her jewelry, clothing, and other personal possessions were missing.

My mother withstood the blows of that dreadful dawn with remarkable fortitude, or so it appeared at first. The night before, she had retired to bed with nine children under her roof—one restored to her only that day. Before the sun rose again, three of those nine were dead and one departed into exile. Yet as she stood in the Bull Court issuing orders to frightened, angry men, her back was straight and her eyes clear, though her face was as white as alabaster.

My father stood next to her, saying nothing. Even though he was Lawagetas, the commander of the military, even though the crew who pursued the Athenians did so in order to avenge the deaths of two of his sons, still he did not offer to command them. He stood there, his eyes empty and dead. No one asked where he was when the alarm was given or how he had come by the angry red scratches that scored his cheek.

Once, I met his gaze. We stared at each other for a long moment and then looked away. I had no desire to betray my father. It would mean his death, or exile at the least. Even though at that moment I did not think he cared much what happened to him, I did not wish to have that on my conscience.

Acalle stood near our parents, looking little altered after her long absence. If she ever learned what part she had played in this drama, would she feel any guilt? I doubted it. She was a practical sort of person.

“Bring me Daedalus the inventor,” my mother commanded at last. I closed my eyes and began to pray.

They both came, he and Icarus, though my mother had asked only for the father. I wondered if I might be sick here in front of all these people.

Before my mother could begin to frame a question, Daedalus spoke.

“I gave the key to your daughter Ariadne,” he said, “and helped her to arrange their flight. I am sorry for the death of your sons. Queen. That was never my purpose. If I had known that my act would cause you such grief I would never have done it. I submit to anything you think it proper to impose.”

“What was your pupose, Daedalus?” my mother asked. She didn’t sound angry, but only as though it were a question to which she very