If not for the bull horns that curved elegantly from the top of his head, he looked more like the satyrs of Olympus than a minotaur of myth and legend.
“Twice now I’ve been visited by the gods,” he said it curiously, cocking his large head. His russet colored hair was pulled back in a ponytail. His brows were thick and shaggy, covering heavy brow bones. His face looked flat, like a cyclops had made sport of him. His teeth were large and blunt, much like a horse’s.
He was not attractive in the slightest, but there was a keen intellect that stared back at me through his dark green eyes and for some curious reason, I imagined that even in him Psyche could find some sort of beauty.
She seemed to be able to find beauty in what others deemed repulsive.
My fists clenched.
“You say you were visited by a god before me. Who?” I asked softly.
“He was called Ares. A tall and imposing man dressed all in black with fire in his eyes.”
Of course, mother had sent her lover to do her dirty work for her.
I nodded.
“Yes, that doesn’t surprise me. Did he say what he wanted?”
“And why should I answer you? You are not much of a god, as far as gods go.”
My brows lifted. I hadn’t expected the minotaur to be kind, most creatures, even half breeds, weren’t. But I’d also not expected his censure.
Still, I swallowed my need to defend myself. The truth was, I was considered less than nothing amongst my own peers, how could I fault him with keeping that same view? To all on Olympus, I was nothing but mother’s lackey. I clenched my jaw.
“If you know about the gods, then you know my connections.”
He sneered. “And what is love to me, boy?” he growled. “None could love me and I am sure I could never love a pathetic creature like a human. For too long they have mocked and jeered my kind. Speaking about us as though we were beneath them and worthy only as it pleased them.
He rattled the chains on his wrist I’d not seen him wearing just moments ago.
His contempt for humans was evident. And in my heart, I knew that should he gain possession of Psyche, as mother clearly intended, his hated for her kind would come spewing out of him. She would suffer for all that others had done to him.
But for all that, the minotaur still intrigued me. How had he come to be here? He seemed far more intellectual than the average half breed. Too bright to have been caught so easily.
“You’re curious about me,” he said it matter of factly.
I shrugged, not bothering to deny it.
He shifted, glancing quickly over his shoulder, before taking a seat on a protruding section of stone that could serve as a bench. “It’s not as though I’ve anyplace to be. And considering that tomorrow I am to be married,” he snorted inelegantly, “I find myself in a different sort of mood. Ask your questions. I will answer them.”
The fact remained that this minotaur was not a good match for Psyche. He would hurt her. I could read his heart and I knew there would never come a day when he would learn to honor or respect her. No doubt that had been part of mother’s plan too.
The beast was clearly xenophobic. Not that he didn’t have cause, but I would be damned if I let him harm her. Still, I needed to play this like Dionysus would. With care. I needed to gain the beast’s trust somehow.
He might hate humans, but I was not one of them. I could use that fact to my advantage.
Sitting before him, I crossed my legs. He sat above me, almost like a king in repose. But that had been a calculated move on my part. I was attempting to put him at ease, to prove to him that not all gods were like the ones he knew.
He thinned his eyes. “You are good.” He sniffed.
My lips twitched. The beast was bright, I’d give him that.
“I will give you three honest answers. Choose your questions wisely.”
Only three, I had so many more. Trying to narrow them down to just three would be impossible. And yet, I had to try.
“What is your name?” I asked him.
His brows lowered. “I give you three questions and that is what you waste it on?” He laughed. “Humans and gods have such queer notions. Beasts have no name. Don’t you know that?” His continued laughter was tinged with bitterness.
“You ask me a question and so I will answer you just as honestly. You are right that beasts have no name. But you are no beast. What is man? A higher thinking species, is it not? And what sets them apart from those they master is a name. Names are power. Names connote strength. Wisdom. Feeling. You think. You speak. Eloquently. You recognize the injustice of your plight and because of that I see it too. If we can treat our pets with enough honor to grant them a name, then surely you, an autonomous thinking individual should bear one too.”
He was silent for several moments, so long I wondered if I’d lost him with my impassioned speech. But finally, he said, “They did not name me, but I did name myself. I am called, Basil.”
I nodded. “King-like. That is what it means. By choosing such a name you are owning that you are every much their peer.” I did not phrase it as a question because the Minotaur was far too wily, and would count that against me. But even so, I understood and did not need him to agree for me to recognize the truth of what he’d done.
His breath shuddered out of him.
“How is it that you know so much? You are far more learned than any other half breed I’ve ever met.”
His nostrils flared and I sensed that he wasn’t sure of me still. Whether I was just like all the rest of my peers, or if, maybe just maybe, I could be different. But it seemed to me that his gruff tone had cooled by a degree when he answered.
“King Artaxerxes found me when I was but a bull calf. I’d been barely weaned from my mother’s teat when he’d had me taken away. The abuse they heaped upon me was substantial. I was taught my place from the very beginning. I might be more powerful in body, but in these spelled chains I was as helpless as a babe.” He lifted his wrists, staring at the silver cuffs with a mile-long stare, no doubt recalling the tortures he’d endured at their hands.
“I suppose he saw my education as elevating his own status. He owned a creature that could impress his peers. I could recite poetry for them. Solve unsolvable mathematic equations. My elevated status made him a more desirable aristocrat to rub elbows with. It was never for me. Say what you will about the King he played the game very well. But had my elevation in status not directly affected his I doubt he would have bothered.”
I nodded, recognizing that he was very likely correct. I knew what it was to be raised amongst a group of peoples who lived simply to outshine those around them. One-upmanship was an Olympic sport on Olympus.
“Basil,” I said, finally getting around to my third question. “What is it that you desperately want above all else? And before you answer,” I held up a finger pausing him as he was about to respond, “I want you to really think about my question. Is it vengeance upon the mortals that you most require, or… would your freedom squelch your need for retribution? I have the power within me to grant you one request, so choose wisely.”
He narrowed his eyes, shaggy brows dropping and furrowing heavily as he studied me intently.
And as he did, I read the thoughts of his heart.
I caught snippets of the injustices that’d been done to him. More than simply walking about in chains, he’d been beaten, he’d been abused, and his humanity had been grossly violated. He’d been taunted repeatedly, told that he was nothing more than a beast. But shockingly, throughout the images I continuously caught flashes of Psyche herself.