Minotaur by Phillip W. Simpson Page A

smashed into the shield with enough force to shatter it, blasting Androgeus off his feet. He lay before me stunned, looking up at me with what might have been fear. I felt confused. I wasn’t even sure what had happened. I had just channeled all my strength—strength I’d never properly used—into that one blow. I knew I was strong; I just didn’t know how strong.
    I felt elated, invincible, powerful, but also I regretted that I’d possibly humiliated and angered Androgeus. Quickly, I dropped the club and extended a hand to my brother. He took it gratefully with a wry grin, and I let out a long breath of relief. He grasped my bicep with his other hand. It didn’t even cover a third of it.
    “My, we are getting strong, aren’t we?” he said, clapping me on the back. All movement had ceased within the gymnasium. Glaucus, training with the son of a noble from a nearby city, Catreus, Deucalion, and some other sons of senior servants—all had frozen.
    I blushed, lowering my head to conceal the rosy glow. The movement almost caused Androgeus to lose an eye to one of my horns. He released his grip, hastily moving backward.
    “Good,” said Paris. It was the highest praise I’d ever heard spill from his mouth. “I think we’ve found you your weapon.”
    We continued to train throughout the rest of the afternoon. Androgeus left to continue his training with the men. I was paired with Glaucus, who eyed me nervously. He was no match for me physically. In fact, Glaucus was no match for anyone physically. Both Ariadne and Phaedra consistently beat him in impromptu wrestling matches held in the gardens of the palace, much to his embarrassment.
    Paris got us all to lay down our weapons, and we boxed and wrestled for the rest of the day. It wasn’t much of a workout, and it was quite unpleasant to lay hands on his flabby flesh. Even though I took it easy and wasn’t trying to hurt him, I somehow managed to blacken one of Glaucus’s eyes. I think I cracked one of his ribs too by throwing him gently to the ground. He protested hotly to Paris, who looked on unsympathetically.
    “My father will hear of this,” he declared, glaring at me.
    “Don’t you mean our father?” I asked.
    “I meant what I said,” he shouted. “Haven’t you been listening to palace gossip? You’re illegitimate. Our mother fornicated with a bull. You’re no son of my father.”
    I took a menacing step forward and was pleased to see Glaucus cower before me. Like him, I’d heard the rumors. It didn’t mean I liked them though. I’m not sure what I would’ve done then but for the intervention of Paris. Probably nothing pleasant.
    “That’s enough,” said Paris, stepping between us. “Control your anger,” he said to me. “A warrior who loses his temper, loses his head.”
    Behind him, I could see Glaucus smirking. Almost like he had eyes in the back of his head, Paris whirled on him. “Glaucus, close your stupid, fat mouth. If your father does hear of this, I’ll tell him the truth. That you fought badly, put no effort in whatsoever, used poor tactics, and generally complained like a child. In short, you’re a dog’s behind.”
    That put Glaucus in his place. I tried not to grin, but catching the eye of Catreus and Deucalion, I couldn’t help it.
    Glaucus saw. “You’ll regret this,” he spat at me. My grin widened, but I suddenly felt a little uneasy. No doubt he and Ariadne would plot some petty revenge. I’d have to be on my guard.
    He stalked off, regardless of the fact that we still had at least another hour of training time left.
    Paris strolled over. “Looks like we’ll have to find you another training partner,” he said and then burst out laughing.
     
     
    Ω
     
     
    Before supper, we all had to spend some time practicing with the lyre and flute. It was all part of becoming a well-rounded member of the ruling class. A leader who could write, spell, complete mathematical sums, fight, orate, and play musical