The Trials of the Minotaur

Part One: The Blind Minotaur (Chapter Three)

The journey to Colosi from Guthril was an arduous one, though it passed easily enough for the Minotaur, convinced as he was that he had embarked on a glorious quest that would end with his being inducted into the illustrious Dethcalla family, to stand at their side and be given his rights as a man. Any hardship he encountered merely fed this belief that it would end triumphantly. How many of the stories that he had read in the library of Thurir Drahil ended in that manner: the hero beaten but unbowed, returning to the hearth of home?

He drew crowds wherever he went, though he was well used to that. Some towns denied him entry, barring the wall and throwing stones down upon him, while others welcomed him and, when they found he could speak, begged him to orate from the main square for their entertainment. If he encountered any real threat he needed only to show a bit of his sword, which was nearly as tall as a man, and the storm would quickly pass. Through it all he comforted himself with the thought of his arrival at the gates of the Dethcalla Estates, where he would present himself to his grandfather and be granted his birthright within their hallowed circle.

When he left Guthril it was winter, and by the time he arrived at the walls of Colosi spring had arrived and his coat had begun to itch and shed. It was in this state that he presented himself at the Dethcalla Estates, asking to speak with Barthil Vulgih. The general consternation with which he was received did not bother him. Though these were his family, who should have been well aware of his existence and nature, he knew from hard experience that being aware was not nearly the same as being brought face to face with the reality of his being.

He was ushered into a great hall by two servants, who kept glancing at him from the corner of their eyes with awe and fear. The hall was lined with the busts of his great and fabled ancestors, whose faces he recognized from the histories he had read. His heart raced with excitement as he realized that here, at last, his long journey was at an end. One day, he thought, if I am blessed by time and the gods as these men were, I too shall have my likeness among them.

Barthil Vulgih awaited him at the end of the hall, standing straight-backed amid some finery on a dais. There was a small fountain at its edge and he washed his hands in it before turning to face the Minotaur. A wave of his hand dismissed the servants.

“So you have come, have you? They warned me you might, but I had hoped not.”

The Minotaur was taken aback by Barthil Vulgih’s lack of ceremony. He had expected there to be introductions where he might present himself to the patriarch. The words had long been prepared in his head. He decided to say them anyway.

“I am the son of Surys Dethcallen Barthil, daughter of you, Barthil Dethcallan Vulgih. Though I have no names I am an on the rolls. I present myself to you, the patriarch of this family, with my sword and all that I may offer in the service of the Dethcalla.”

The patriarch eyed him and then laughed bitterly as he prostrated himself on the floor. “What jest is this?”

The Minotaur, shaken, raised himself to his feet. “This is no jest. I have come for my birthright: my names and my place in this family. In return I offer you my service and whatever I may provide.”

“Did Thurir Drahil put you up to this?”

“That cur did nothing of the sort. He made a sport of my life and would as soon see me dead as here.”

Barthil Vulgih nodded. “A poor job he did of it, though. You were not supposed to survive those wilds. You were never to darken my hall.”

The Minotaur felt as though someone had landed a dagger behind his ribs and into one of his lungs. He swallowed loudly. “Be that as it may, I have rights as a patrician and I have rights in this family and I intend to claim them, starting with my names."

Barthil Vulgih spat on the floor between them. “You shall never have a name as long as I am alive and patriarch of the Dethcalla. And forever after if such a thing is in my power.”

The Minotaur found his hands were trembling. “You cannot deny my rights. I am on the rolls, just as you are.”

“You will stay on the rolls. There is nothing I can do about that. And I have raised you as the law requires me; fed and clothed and educated you. As far as I am concerned that is the extent of this family’s obligation to you.”

“This is an outrage.”

“No,” Barthil Vulgih said. “You are the outrage. I’ve extended more courtesy to you here than many would have. You can stamp your hooves and snort all you please, it will not change my mind.”

The Minotaur could see that all was lost and so he turned to go, all the emotion and tension draining from his massive frame, which drooped at the shoulders. Before he could leave, the patriarch had these final words for him: “You are the ruin of this family. I promise that I will thwart you in whatever you set yourself to in this life. I will deny you, as you have denied the Dethcalla their proper place beside the emperor.”

He was never to set foot on the family lands again.

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This is the third chapter of the Trials of the Minotaur. I will post a chapter a week (there are over 30), but if you enjoy what you're reading and don't want to wait, you can buy this book at Amazon, Kobo, and Smashwords. Thanks for reading.