The Labyrinth

The Oracle of Delphi

6

The Oracle of Delphi

Diokles sensed something was wrong. Although Victor was stronger and faster, fighting with more vigor and energy, there was something peculiar in the way the young boy spoke. The way he stood. The way his eyes flicked from side to side with worry. He had ignored his elder brother at breakfast, did not sneak a smile at him during training and did not mention him once to Diokles in their morning chat. The trainer dropped his sword and raised his hands to the air in surrender. Victor stopped, pulling off his helmet, revealing a hot red face damp with sweat and matted red hair. "Victor," Diokles sighed, "Tell me what is wrong!"

As they walked slowly into the shade, Victor turned to the kind Greek man, "What is an oracle?"

"An oracle? Why do you ask?" Replied Diokles, intrigued.

"Oh I just overheard one of the boys talking about one." Victor replied nonchalantly, as if nothing had bothered him.

"An oracle is a priest or priestess who is in contact with the Gods. They can tell the future and pass on messages from the Gods, like a prophecy. Come now," Diokles stood up and lead Victor up a narrow set of stairs. The air was dusty and the steps were thick with dirt and grime, and finally, they came to a small green door. Craning his neck, Diokles opened the door to reveal a small library of books, "Did you hear the boys talk about Delphi?"

"Ah!" Victor exclaimed, "Yes! Delphi? Who's Delphi?"

Diokles laughed, letting out one of his great roars, "Oh my boy, Delphi is no person! Delphi is a city. The nearest oracle to here is the Oracle of Delphi." He took a book from the shelf, bound in blue fabric. It was nameless, but large and worn, with great thumb stains on the corner of each page where wise men and women had eagerly flipped the paper. He heaved it onto the round table and opened to a map.

"Here is Athens," Diokles placed his own finger on the spot of Athens, "And here is Delphi," He placed Victor's finger on the spot of Delphi, "Many travel far and wide to seek the advice of the priestess here."

"What kind of things does the oracle say?" Victor asked, examining the map closely. Diokles turned to a drawing of the priestess sitting in her throne amongst stone pillars.

"Oh lots of things. Whatever the Gods have told them," He leaned in close, so close that Victor could smell his olive-breath, "And whatever the Gods say is always, always, true."

Victor nodded, hiding his discomfort. A sickness grew in his stomach, his face grew pale, his stomach twisting and turning. "Is this what has been bothering you, Victor?" Diokles asked, "Have you heard something?"

"No," Victor said quickly, "I'm just not feeling very well."

"Why don't you go get some water? It is very hot today." And Diokles was right – it was particularly sweltering today. He could not begin to imagine what life would be like fighting against Crete. He slammed the book shut, and a thin cloud of dust formed around the pages. Victor turned, opening the door, and stopped.

"Could the oracle ever be...wrong?"

Diokles shrugged, "You needn't worry about these things, Victor. Focus on the war. Focus on surviving battle and nothing will happen to you."

This heat only meant one thing: August would soon be approaching. August, being the heart of summer, would be the time when the fourteen tributes would be summoned to the Labyrinth. The Labyrinth was a maze of many paths, intricate routes and an elaborate structure, deemed almost impossible to crack. Almost. King Minos had called upon Daedalus, a skilled craftsman, to build this Labyrinth, in which he would keep his dreadful Minotaur: the half man – half bull brute. Daedalus worked for days and nights, sweating in his toils, and when he had finally completed the maze, he himself found it difficult to escape.

Peter had started to enjoy his training much more now. Although he was lazy and careless in the survival skills, he was excellent at fighting and throwing. The other recruits were particularly impressed with the Earth boy, especially Kleio. In fact, Peter was glad that he had stayed after all, and admittedly, he was a little excited to fight; he knew he would be good at it. Seeing Victor amble slowly across the gymnasium, he dropped his javelin and ran over to his brother, buzzing with excitement. "Victor! Oh you'll never guess what I saw last night!"

"What?" Victor asked, bluntly. His voice was dry for he was certainly not amused by his brother.

"A griffin! It – I mean she – was huge, great wings and huge claws. You know, they keep their heart next to their brains!" Peter perked, grabbing Victor by the shoulders and picking him up like Astarios had. Peter had spent all evening and most of this morning with Kleio – a bond was certainly forming.

Victor shrugged, as if he did not care. Inside, however, he was burning of jealousy and excitement, "Whatever." He pushed past his brother and started to return to his training.

"Wait, Victor! What did you want to tell me last night?" Peter ran up behind him. Hoping that all had been forgiven between the two, he thought of all the happy times he and Victor had shared together as not just brothers, but best friends too. Victor could not hold it in any longer, the thought burned in him like a small fire, growing and growing until eventually, it would be disastrous.

"We have to leave, Peter!" Victor whispered loudly, looking dead into Peter's eyes, terrified.

Peter simply laughed at him and ruffled his auburn hair, as if he was still a toddler. "Ha! I thought that too, but don't worry, Vic, it'll get better!" And, ignoring Victor's fear, he put his arm around his brother and carried on walking, "Just wait till the fighting starts!"

The dining room was only a small, square room. All the recruits sat across three long tables, gobbling up their food like starving monsters and glugging down water as if they were whales, chatting, laughing and shouting. The food had never been superb, however, the recruits got what they were given and wasted nothing. Usually, it was an especially cheerful place, but today was different. Today, the room was filled with a hustle of whispers, hushed voices and only the chinks and clinks of cutlery. It was so quiet that you could almost hear the swallow of food. "What's going on?" Peter asked to Agatha – one of the youngest recruits. She was a short girl, with short chestnut hair and dull brown eyes, but a beautiful smile - a smile that brought happiness and light to any day.  Peter had seen her sword-fighting before, and indeed, she was especially talented.

"You don't know about Minos' visit?" Agatha replied, weary of speaking too loudly. The boys shook their heads, and Agatha continued, "Before the recruits are sent to the Labyrinth, Minos always visits Athens. He'll take a look around, like an inspector, and seem lovely and charming and nice. Really, he's an awful man. King Aegeus told us so."

"Why does he want to look?" Victor asked, puzzled.

Agatha thought for a moment, "Nobody knows. But he insists, and everyone has to be working hard and looking like they might actually kill the Minotaur."

Victor and Peter, thinking this was very strange, exchanged confused glances. "So when is he coming here?" Peter said through a mouthful of vegetables.

"Tomorrow morning," She added quietly, and suddenly, the boys felt very nervous indeed