002: Intersection
The labyrinth of Creta was built even before the Helena received the blessing of the stars. Various tunnels run through all the explored and hidden corners of the Helade continent; this impossible structure does not seem to have been created by any of the five blessed races or by the rest of the four-fingered species. Its tunnels hidden among forests, valleys and mountains are always decorated with sturdy marble pillars which if broken repair themselves slowly, as if the blessed ones who built them still pray to the stars for their existence to continue. The name of the labyrinth was given by the first explorers who managed to decipher just a few words of the thousands written on some of the walls that extend underground: “Road to Creta.”
The labyrinth even extends under the sea, making it the only means of travel between the Helade and its various islands, as the primeval fog carries away any brave sailor who attempts to cross it. However, it is impossible to create a single unique map of its cold passageways as each and every one of its doors closes at the end of each month only to reopen the following day. After this period the mapped paths become obsolete as the labyrinth rearranges itself in mysterious ways, meaning that the routes between the capital, the other islands and the small cities have to be redrawn by the polemarchs. Of course, no one who has ever tried to survive this change in the labyrinth from within has ever returned.
…
The empty barracks at the entrance to the labyrinth slowly rebuilt its battle-broken walls. It is the blessing bestowed by the stars upon marble, a rare and divine material that seems to have a unique connection to the heavens; capable of regenerating itself as long as it receives the prayers of a blessed one. While Asterion dusted himself off and picked up his bag full of paper, ink, and feathers; Laconia had her hands on the marble as she murmured her prayers. In just a few minutes the wall was completely repaired, although the wooden bar next to the chairs was beyond repair.
“That's all I can do,” said Laconia as she turned her gaze to the polemarch.
“That's enough. Let's get out of here before anyone finds out,” replied Asterion.
Laconia was the only member of Asterion's phalanx, but she was not a conventional heleny. She was the bastard daughter of a lerna: Her tall, olive-toned body was covered from head to toe in reddish scales that glistened in the light and were as hard as the black linothorax that protected her body. Her hands were long and thick with pointed black nails, and her forearms, shoulders, and knees were covered in huge scales that looked like natural bronze armor. The chiton under his equipment was slightly shorter than normal exposing her right thigh and left calf which were broad and muscular.
“The firefly left us an onyx scout at the blockade of the crossroads,” said Asterion as he passed by his companion.
“Are there no experienced thracians left?”
Laconia stopped and looked the polemarch in the eye. The warrior's face had narrow eyes with vertical pupils and yellow irises like those of a snake and her long, spiky, unkempt hair was a beautiful crimson color. Two small ruby-red horns adorned her head.
“He was chosen by the archon himself, so he must have some talent. Besides, I doubt there are any experienced thracians, retiarii, or sagittarii left who want to work with us.”
“Once again, polemarch and bestiary,” Laconia said with a weary grimace on her face.
As the warrior spoke these words, she quickened her pace to get ahead of Asterion. On her back she carried a black stone sword that was the same size as its bearer, while beneath her back was a thick red lizard tail that arched its tip to avoid touching the ground.
The phalanx descended the stairs calmly while concentrating their minds on different tasks; the polemarch Asterion carefully observed the inscriptions on the stone walls of the labyrinth while the bestiary Laconia took one of the torches placed by the heleny to light the way.
The old walls of the labyrinth were covered with unknown texts and traces of claws and fire caused by the battles that frequently took place in the tunnels. Asterion finally finished organizing his maps.
Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!
“What do you think we'll find today, cyclops or myrmekes?”
Laconia did not answer the question, but walked silently in front of the polemarch.
“We haven't seen any strix in a while. They would be perfect for testing our new companion's skills.”
“Why were you fighting that man?” Laconia stopped walking, still with his back to his companion.
Asterion smile disappeared as he put his hand on the back of his neck, searching for an answer.
“...He was killing innocent minotaurs. I'm sorry, but I couldn't help myself...” Asterion turned his head, as if avoiding eye contact even though the beast was standing with his back to him.
“...Don't put yourself in danger. My job is to protect you.” Laconia continued walking, this time slightly faster.
“Thank you.”
The duo had finally reached the camp protecting the tunnel. During the first month of the year the hoplites and toxotes clear the passageway and the first intersection of the labyrinth of dangerous creatures in order to pave the way for the polemarchs who will map the tunnels at night. Sometimes a few onyxes would join these forces: warriors under the age of twenty who could still be chosen by an archon or polemarch to form part of a phalanx.
No one welcomed this phalanx; most of Helena's soldiers were resting in their tents, while the few who were awake were eating and playing dice on the tunnel walls. At the end was the first intersection of the labyrinth, covered with huge wooden doors with two watchtowers guarding the passage.
“Bestiary Laconia!”
A hoplite emerged from a white tent, his armor torn and his helmet broken on one cheek.
“The archon of light sent me word of your arrival. Both routes are infested with ants, and we also encountered a troop of minotaurs, we were unable to clear the way beyond a few tunnels. I'm sorry.”
“That's enough, withdraw, soldier,” said Laconia as he looked down at the wounded warrior.
The hoplite put his left arm behind his back, bowed slightly, and finally withdrew back to his tent. On his back was a recent gash that lacerated him from shoulder to hip.
“I've never seen heleny so badly wounded by myrmekes before. Do you think we should advance?” said Asterion, who had been hiding behind Laconia during that brief conversation with the hoplite.
“Polemarch...”
Laconia looked down at Asterion, who shrugged and scratched his head nervously while avoiding eye contact.
“It's not a bad idea to consult with the team from time to time...”
“You're the leader.”
The polemarch finally raised his head, despite not being in the best of spirits.
“I don't see our scout anywhere. If he aspires to become a thracian he probably fled. I suppose that's for the best, otherwise you'd have to protect both of us. Let's move forward carefully on our own, if we see too many ants we'll retreat to camp and wait for the soldiers to regain their strength.”
“Understood.”
Laconia and Asterion walked toward the tunnel on the right. The toxotes mounted on the watchtower looked down as the polemarch took a strand of wool that seemed to be bathed in gold out of his bag. When they saw it, the guards gave the signal and on the other side two hoplites opened the wooden gates to let the two-finger phalanx pass.
...
The light from the torch in Laconia's left hand barely illuminated the walls of the labyrinth. The tunnel was about five meters wide and ten meters high. In every corner there were remains of spears, metal, leather and blood, yet despite this scene there was not a single corpse in sight. “The myrmekes must still be nearby,” thought Asterion as he walked behind the bestiary.
“Left, route,” said Laconia as she stopped in her tracks.
“Noted.”
The polemarch took a yellowed piece of paper, a feather and a small clay jar covered with a cork out of his bag. Asterion placed his materials on the ground and began to draw the path: Helena, straight, cross, right, left.
“Let's go.”
As they advanced, there were more and more traces of the battle between the city militia and the creatures that lived underground.
“Cross straight and right.”
“Noted, right.”
“Let's go.”
The phalanx continued exploring until strange sounds stopped them in their tracks. It was as if dozens of wooden sticks were colliding with each other at precise intervals. Laconia extinguished her torch before her polemarch could even see the threat and pressed her back against Asterion's forehead, her yellow eyes shining brightly in the darkness.
“Myrmekes eating... Ten or fifteen,” said the bestiary as she wielded her black greatsword.
“If even one escapes, it will alert the rest of the nest. Let's go back to the crossroads and take the other path.”
Asterion began to slowly back away, but Laconia held her ground, her eyes adapted to the darkness allowing her to see the scene in greater detail.
“There's one alive.”
The ants were devouring the corpses of heleny and minotaurs, the remains of a skirmish that ended with the retreat of both sides. Among the bodies Laconia noticed an unconscious heleny soldier breathing and trapped under a huge minotaur. The myrmekes were slowly approaching his position between bites of food.
Asterion stopped his retreat and put his hand on the bestiary back. While she waited for the polemarch decision, he imagined the worst possible outcome: Failing to kill all the ants would end up alerting the rest of the colony and the attack on the exit to Helena would resume against tired soldiers in the middle of the night. The logical thing would be to abandon the warrior alive, a necessary sacrifice for the rest...
Asterion patted Laconia's sword.
“Don't let any of them escape.”
With her sword in hand, the bestiary ring began to glow intensely, illuminating even the walls of the labyrinth. The burnt star, giver of fear, whispered his name in Laconia's ear, granting her his first favor.
“Phlegethon.”
