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The birds wheeled overhead, a great flock of them, filling the air with a high piping. Paulo watched them from the deck of the ship.

All were silent now. No more tears for home or wails in the night, clutching each other's shackled arms. Now was the time for strength. The Minoans would see how a Greek faced death.

The dark-eyed husky jerked at the sound of a spear butt hitting the wooden planks of the wharf. The dog in Minoan armor holding it could have been his elder brother. They had the same color to the fur and eyes.

The Minoan soldier gazed over the huddled pack on the deck of the ship. Overhead, the black sail swayed like some lazy snake.

He spoke in Greek.

"Take heed, slaves. You stand here condemned to the Labyrinth to prevent a greater tragedy. The terms of the treaty are clear. Seven male virgins every nine years is the price your nation pays for peace with us. Therefore, should any of you think of yourselves as a hero and attempt escape, know that you will destroy the treaty and condemn your country to war. Consider that in whatever plans you may have made during the voyage."

Two more burly canines in armor marched out of a side passage to flank the wharf. Paulo raised his ears to the roars of a crowd. The great arena of Knossos must be close, and the bull leapers were at their deadly dance. Youths not two years younger than he, standing in the path of half a ton of furious, charging sinew, muscle and bone, then at the last breath leaping into the air, grasping the startled animal at the base of its horns and hurtling themselves into a summersault to land on its back.

Paulo could see little of Knossos from the boat except the walls. Ahead of him stretched the wharf with the guards, and beyond that, a single great stone arch. Two massive bronze doors sealed it, their beaten surface depicting the snarling head of the creature that dwelled within. Under the palace of the Minoan king himself.

The leader of the guards, the man who had spoken, gave a curt command with a jerk of his spear.

"Forward!"

Paulo heard a faint whine. One of the youngest dogs was loosing his nerve, convinced he was about to be ground into sausage, no doubt.

A paw rested on the runt's back, sure and warm. The paw belonged to the eldest of them. He was pure bred, with a coat that shone even after days at sea. Sharp blue eyes glared at the Minoans and he leaned forward.

"Courage, brother. The gods may yet deliver us. Your king's son stands with you."

Only Paulo had known Theseus's true identity until now. The whine ceased. Theseus patted the lad on the back and came to stand next to Paulo.

"You have a plan?" Paulo murmured.

"A general does not plan his attack until he knows the terrain on which he's to fight," Theseus whispered back. "Best do as they say and show our bellies for the time being."

The pack of huskies shuffled forward onto the wharf. Their steps were awkward, both because their ankles were bound in chains and because they'd grown used to the bob and swell of the open sea.

The two remaining guards each gripped one of the bronze door's handles. Their muscles strained. The doors swung open on silent, oiled hinges.

The first impression of the Labyrinth was the smell. A rank, heavy barn odor. The smell of bull. It clung faintly to Paulo's fur as he was marched forward. His knees grew weak. It took a force of will to make his feet keep walking into that dark opening. There were no torches on the walls. The floors were bare stone, made of great slabs of Cretan rock fitted together so close Paulo could not have driven a knife blade between them.

The doors shut with a soft boom. Darkness. Paulo heard the rasps and pants as those around him tried to stay calm.

"Listen to me, all of you," came Theseus's voice. "I do not know if the beast is real. But I do know this - we shall be the last sacrifice to these Minoan dogs. I am Theseus, son of Aegeus, prince of Athens. And I will deliver us all back home. You have my word."

Paulo reached out in the dark and clasped paws with his kin.

"Each man stays with those next to him. Hold paws and learn each other's scents well," Theseus ordered. "Beast or no beast, if we loose each other in this maze, we loose all chance of escape."

Paulo took hold of the boys nearest him, one paw in each of theirs.

"Paulo," Theseus called.

Paulo slipped free and found the prince's paw.

"Your grandfather was a Minoan slave, brought back to Athens as a spoil of war. Did he or your father pass on anything to you that could help us?" Theseus asked.

Paulo shook his head in the blackness.

"I have tried to remember anything during the voyage, but I only know the same tale as every Athenean. This place was built to be inescapable, by a craftsman with skills to rival the gods'," he said.

"No place is inescapable," Theseus said. "This maze is a trap. Every trap has a weakness."

"I hope for our sakes you find it before the monster finds us," muttered someone in the dark.

"Look," Paulo whispered. He pointed. A faint light shone. It was not a direct source, but rather the reflection of fire off of stone.

As his eyes adjusted, Paulo could see the pack of boys around him like ghosts on the shores of Hades.

"Paws together, lads," Theseus reminded them.

They walked toward the light. The passage turned a corner. They stood in front of a single wall torch. Several hundred yards further down the corridor shone another, and like a star in the distance, a third. There was no way to tell how high the ceiling stretched.

Theseus reached for the torch. As he took it, it illuminated the wall. The boys gasped. The wall was covered in small marks - gouges and small signs clawed into the stone, some made with long-dried blood. The desperate scribbles of other victims trying to make sense of the mad passages.

The runt of the pack shut his eyes and seemed to melt in on himself. He quivered as his companions held him, fighting back sobs. Theseus handed Paulo the torch and took the boy by the shoulders.

"What is your name, Athenean?"

"C..Clitus, son of Machaeon."

"What was your trade?"

"Potter's apprentice."

Theseus took Clitus by the paw.

"When we return to Athens, I shall see to it you and your father come to work for me at the palace. But in order to do that, I need you to keep alive, Clitus. I'm counting on you."

Clitus straightened his shoulders and wiped his eyes.

"I won't fail you, my prince. I swear to Zeus."

"Good."

Theseus gripped his paw into a shared fist, clapping it with his other palm.

"Now, let's see where this passage goes."

* * *

Tartarus could not be much worse than this, Paulo decided. His toe scraped against a loose stone in the dark and he yelped out a curse. It died amidst its own echoes back down the hall.

Less than a day down this cursed hole, and Paulo was having a hard time remembering what sky looked like. There was nothing to mark the passage of time. The light and temperature never varied. Passages within passages, turns and more turns. Every corridor identical down to the spacing of the torches. And always the smell. That rank, rich scent of male bull, so thick that now they smelled of nothing else.

The paws of the boys Paulo held trembled. They all panted heavily, whining softly.

"By all the gods," someone behind Paulo whispered, "it can't be long before we all go mad."

"Silence!" Theseus barked.

He left his place and came snout to snout with the mutterer.

"If you so much as breathe more talk like that I will have your tongue, Athenian! Where is your courage?"

"Where have you led us, great prince?" the husky mocked. "We are no more closer to escape now than we were this morning!"

Theseus growled, baring his fangs. Paws grabbed his muscular arms and those of the husky he confronted as they snarled and snapped at each other.

"Stop it, both of you!"

Paulo shoved the huskies away from each other.

"Don't you see? This infernal place is designed to put doubt in your heads, to make you second-guess yourselves!"

Theseus shut his eyes. He nodded, breathing slower.

"You're right, Paulo."

He looked over at the protestor.

"Forgive me, brother."

Theseus had all seven of them huddle together by the light of the single torch they carried.

"The Labyrinth was built by a man. Therefore it must follow a logical plan. I have been counting the turns, always leading us in a single direction. This," he put his paw on the wall beside him, "is the outside wall. Eventually we must reach our starting point again."

Theseus undid the white loincloth about his waist. It was the only clothing slaves were permitted. He brought the torch low and scraped a sliver of coal from the base of the flame. As the huskies watched, he drew three perfect, straight lines, forming three-fourths of a square.

"We will chart this prison. Every hallway if we have to."

Paulo stared down at the drawing. He sucked in a gasp of air and found tears in his eyes. Sniffles filled the dark. Hope. Even in this darkness, Thesesus offered them the promise of a glimmer of hope. He put his paw on Theseus's shoulder.

"May the gods bless your name for a thousand years, Theseus," he whispered. "I will never doubt you again."

All seven of them made vows of loyalty to Theseus that night, if it could be called night. Theseus urged them to rest as best they could. In the morning they would complete the navigation of the outer wall and discuss the problem of food.

Paulo's sleep was restless. His dreams were filled with visions of a massive creature, a pale-skinned bull of such proportions he looked as though he could rip a man in half as easily as Paulo might rip apart a loaf of bread.

Paulo started awake to the soft sound of stone against stone. His ears flicked back and forth in the dark. It was gone. He shook his head and rubbed his face. He might have imagined it. Then his nostrils picked up a new scent - the scent of meat.

Paulo crawled forward and found a bronze platter filled with cooked lamb, richly spiced and dripping with juices. He slapped himself, but the meat remained.

"Theseus!"

The huskies scrambled to their feet, bumping into each other, still half asleep. Theseus touched Paulo's back. He reached down and picked up a slice of lamb.

"Where did it come from?" Theseus asked.

"I don't know. But for a moment, I thought I heard something. Theseus, what if the Labyrinth is more than what it seems? There might be secret doors leading to still more passages. By Zeus, who is to say the walls themselves aren't built on counter weights, able to be moved into new configurations?" Paulo said.

The cries of the huskies filled the dark air. Theseus's voice cut through it.

"Be calm, all of you! Will you be calm!"

Theseus sighed.

"We are meant for the beast. It is unlikely they mean to poison us."

He divided up the meat equally seven ways. They ate. Theseus bent close to Paulo's ear.

"Keep the plate with you at all times. We will post a watch who will pretend to be asleep like the rest of us. Then we will see who or what delivers the food, and from where."

Paulo nodded.

"There will be no need for that," rumbled a voice.

As one, the huskies turned.

The beast towered above them, dwarfing them like children. It was hard to judge his true size in the dim light, but he blocked out all view of the passage behind him. And there was no doubt he was the source of the bovine musk.

Paulo felt it working its way into his mouth, over his tongue. It seemed to caress his skin like a living thing.

Muscle covered every inch of the minotaur. His legs were each as thick as Paulo's body at the thigh and again at the calf. His belly was a sculpted landscape of paw-sized muscular hills that rose in vertical pairs, twitching, tensing and rippling with every breath the beast took. Above them, a titanic chest cavity jutted outward, an obscene thing with faint striations under the skin and a pair of nipples as thick as silver coins. Paulo's eyes wandered over the giant arms. He knew those arms. He'd dreamed of them. But the minotaur who stood before them was a dull tan, not the pale white of Paulo's dream. Paulo was astonished to see a black loincloth of fine silk, bordered in gold thread, around the minotaur's waist.

The minotaur spoke again. Paulo could feel that voice in the floor, the walls, in the depths of his guts and buzzing off his own teeth. It was as if the Labyrinth itself spoke with the bull's voice.

"There are indeed secret passages leading from the palace above to this place. They are used by servants to bring me anything I require. Such as food for my newest tribute from Greece."

The minotaur's eyes were so dark as to be invisible in the faint torch light, making them seem like black sockets in his great face. Paulo noted the square jaw, the powerful cheek bones, the curving brow and the great black horns.

Magnificent, Paulo thought. And promptly banished the thought from his mind. This creature was the enemy. Paulo gave a yell and hurled the bronze plate at the minotaur.

The minotaur let it clang off his belly. He leveled his gaze at Paulo. Paulo gulped and had to clench down on his bladder.

"It would be wise of you not to try such a foolish thing again, little one," the minotaur rumbled. He addressed the rest of them. "And do not trouble yourselves trying to find the passages of the servants. They open only from the palace side."

Theseus pushed forward and looked the minotaur in the face.

"So," he said. "This is the beast who devours the sons of mighty Greece."

"Beast?" thundered the minotaur.

Dust fell from the ceiling. A few of the huskies lost their footing. The minotaur stepped forward with a dull boom and his thick nostrils snorted. Great ivory teeth flashed at Theseus.

"I am the son of a queen! You will address me accordingly!"

"What would a queen name a prince such as you other than to curse the gods?" Theseus snarled.

"I am Asterion, son of Pasiphae, son of Poseidon himself!"

The minotaur stomped a dinner plate-sized hoof and the entire corridor shook.

"The next man who DARES suggest the queen's son is a monster will not live to speak another word!"

Paulo winced, ears ringing and flat against his skull.

"Back down, Theseus," he whispered.

Asterion's ears flicked forward.

"Theseus, is it?"

Theseus gave a slow nod.

"I will remember that name, Theseus."

Asterion turned his massive back to them and began to stride away.

"What do you want of us?" Paulo cried.

Asterion paused and turned his head.

"Your flesh, of course. But not to dine on, as your king would have you believe. The prince of Knossus will not be questioned by his own slaves any further."

The minotaur turned a corner and vanished.

"Gods help us," Clitus whispered.

The runt was a shuddering wreck on paws and knees, nearly bent double from cowering. Paulo could smell the stain of urine around him.

Theseus knelt beside him.

"Calm yourself, Athenian. I have shown it off once, and I will do so again. He will not touch any of you."

"The only thing you did was nearly enrage him into slaughtering us where we stood," Paulo snapped.

Clitus moaned and hid his head under his paws.

"We are all doomed!"

"Enough!"

Theseus grabbed Clitus's shoulders and shook him hard.

"Stop it, Theseus," Paulo said. "Can't you see you're only making it worse?"

Theseus released Clitus. Paulo knelt beside him. The runt was quivering so hard it was a wonder his fur stayed in place. Fresh urine flooded underneath him and his breath came in short, panicked gasps that grew even shorter as Paulo listened.

Paulo stroked a paw down Clitus's ruff.

"Shhhhh. Easy, boy. Easy."

"B..but..but.."

Paulo raised Clitus's head with gentle pressure under his chin. He wrapped his arms around the shaking husky and held him close, rocking him.

Clitus wept silently against Paulo's shoulder, holding him in return. Theseus looked at his feet.

"We're not all warriors," Paulo said to him, stroking Clitus's ruff.

* * *

They did not see Asterion again for two days. Once, drifting in and out of sleep, Paulo thought he saw the huge muscular bull in front of a lit door, speaking in Cretan to a husky on the other side. His Cretan was too rudimentary to follow it, but he noted how the husky kept his head bowed, and answered each question the same way: Yes, Highness.

More food waited for them each time they woke - rolls of bread, still soft and warm from the oven, a pitcher of fresh water, or other platters of meat from lamb to quail, fish, eggs, and crab.

Some of the huskies looked forward to their next meal, and it worried Theseus.

"I see his plan now," Theseus confided to Paulo one evening while the others ate and chatted. "My father showed me men in prison once. Such men grow so desperate that a single small kindness wields enormous power over them."

"You think Asterion is trying to win them over with food?" Paulo asked.

Theseus nodded.

"He offers them bread. Something they can hold in their paws. What have I that can compare? The scent of freedom will be drowned in the stench of a crab's buttery sauce."

The morning of the third day, Asterion was waiting for them. The corridor Theseus had led them down opened into a true room, with four walls supported by columns. Bronze basins filled with burning oil sat in the four corners. Asterion sat in a high-backed chair in the center of the room. Some of the huskies made to bolt, but Theseus barked for them to hold their ground. No one would ever find them if they ran in panic.

"So you are the leader," Asterion mused, emphasizing the "are" as he looked at Theseus.

"I am," Theseus said. "And I vow to almighty Zeus here and now, we will be the last huskies you have in this hell hole."

Asterion rubbed his chin with a finger as thick as Paulo's thumb.

"You may be the first of your kind to utter truly brave words to me, Theseus," Asterion said. "I find I admire you."

Paulo looked at Theseus with a pang of jealousy. Jealousy? What was the matter with him?

"You mock the principle of honor between enemies when you invoke it," Theseus growled. "Just as you mock Nature herself with your every living breath."

Asterion slammed a fist down on one of the chair's arms. It shattered into matchwood.

"I think it time you became aware of your true situation, slave," he snarled.

Asterion stood and spread his broad shoulders, thrusting that giant chest forward so that he glared down at them.

"Forget your memories of glorious Athens. You are no longer Athenians, no longer Greeks, no longer even men unless I decide that you are. I rule here. It is by my hand that you are fed. It is at my beckoning that you be given the privilege of a bath or that your excrement be cleaned from the corridors behind you. You are property now. A tax of tribute for a war now nearly thirty years won. I own you, slaves. And I will use each of you as it pleasures me to."

Asterion pointed to the ground.

"Kneel."

Four of the men dropped to their knees at once. Paulo stood half crouched, heart racing. He expected Asterion to come charging at them and run them through with his horns. He glanced at Theseus, the only one of the remaining three who stood tall.

"You will sleep in your own shit tonight!" Asterion thundered. "You will grow so thirsty that you will drink pitchers of your own urine! KNEEL!"

Paulo dropped to his knees and wept.

Theseus stood alone. He looked into the black eyes of the bull, now standing toe to toe with him. The husky's head only rose to belly height on Asterion.

For a moment, there was no sentience in those eyes. Only a blind, red frothing rage. Asterion growled, eyes narrowing. Theseus splayed his legs into a wrestling stance. He stood relaxed, but ready to move the instant the minotaur did.

Then the light of reason returned. And Asterion laughed.

"So," he boomed, "you Greeks do breed a few men after all! You think to challenge me to mortal combat, Theseus? Now that will be a rare pleasure indeed, to engage in a duel. I will keep you alive despite your insolence just so I can look forward to the day you make your challenge."

Asterion stood there, a sneering grin on his bovine lips. Theseus was trapped and he knew it. As much as he hungered to deliver that challenge, he could not do so yet. Not until he knew the secret of the Labyrinth that would lead them out of it.

Asterion swept the huskies once more with his gaze.

"I am pleased for now. You may go."

The minotaur's eyes stopped on Clitus. The runt was not just kneeling. He was prostate, paws linked together and shaking as he prayed. The minotaur's victorious smile faded. Theseus nodded for the huskies to leave as ordered. Asterion hardly seemed to notice.

Asterion stepped toward Clitus.

"What are you doing?" Paulo demanded.

Theseus blocked Asterion's path.

"So help me Zeus I will challenge you right now if you so much as touch him!"

Asterion sighed.

"This one you cannot save, Athenian," he said in the softest voice Paulo had ever heard him use.

Theseus looked at Clitus. Inch by inch, he turned away. Paulo put an arm around Theseus's shoulders and led Thesus after the others. Only Paulo lingered in the doorway.

Asterion stood over Clitus. Clitus still lay on the floor, oblivious. The minotaur crouched. His massive thighs bunched and swelled to grotesque proportions.

Clitus glanced up and screamed. He backed on all fours across the floor, but Asterion knelt over him, grabbed his waist, and dragged Clitus closer.

"Theseus!" Clitus tried to shriek.

Asterion grabbed Clitus by the muzzle before he could utter another sound. The minotaur lowered his bulk over the husky. Clitus struggled, beating his fists against that huge chest.

Asterion closed his eyes. The massive arms tightened into an embrace. Too tight for Clitus to even move. The minotaur shifted his hips up higher, straddling Clitus.

Paulo clamped a paw over his mouth. Clitus's eyes grew wide and Paulo could tell he was trying to scream. The husky's body began to jerk in rhythm. Tears ran down Clitus's cheeks. His eyes squeezed shut and Asterion's great hand covered his entire face.

Asterion huffed and snorted. His massive loins flexed again and again, that great back undulating like the black sail of the slave ship. Paulo couldn't look away or make a sound. He stood rooted to the spot.

Asterion gave a loud grunt. The hand on Clitus's head tightened. There was a series of wet crunches. Blood oozed from Asterion's fist. Asterion lowered his head.

Paulo sucked in air. He'd been holding his breath. Asterion stood. His monstrous phallus was still erect, the loincloth unable to contain the thing. It was a gargantuan parody of a human manhood. It twitched as it softened, dripping semen into a small puddle on the stone floor.

Asterion looked at Paulo.

"He should never have been chosen for the tribute."

It was all Asterion said before he walked out of the room.

* * *

Despite Asterion's threats, the huskies woke next to a wooden tub of steaming water large enough to bathe in. Theseus went first by unspoken consent. Paulo watched him scrub himself over and over, so hard he bared his fangs in pain. Paulo understood the frenzy. It took a lot of scrubbing to wash guilt away.

Theseus tapped Paulo to bathe next. Paulo couldn't help the soft moan of pleasure that escaped his lips. He wanted to melt into the water, let it soothe out the aches in his feet, the tension in his back, the constant cold in the tips of his fingers, toes, nose and ears from being underground.

Paulo allowed himself only a few minutes to soak before he climbed out. Before he tapped the next dog, though, he grabbed the edge of the tub and yanked. A small section as long as his fingers and three fingers wide snapped off in his palm.

Paulo crouched over it while the bathing went on. He used his blunt dog claws and bare teeth to gnaw and scrape at the wood.

"What did you plan to do with that?" Theseus asked.

Paulo blew the last shards of wet wood away and held up a small, crudely whittled figurine.

"Pray for Clitus."

Paulo promised to keep the group in sight, but he wanted to be as alone as he could. He found an area of the wall that had been broken off. The dark space formed a natural alcove.

Paulo placed his figurine at the center of the alcove and bowed his head. He prayed to Hades to look with compassion on the spirit of Clitus. Though what Clitus might do in the underworld with his skull crushed, Paulo could not guess.

He prayed to Zeus as always. Zeus was his personal god, dedicated to him at his birth by the village priests. And he prayed to Athena for guidance, not only for himself but for Theseus.

Paulo paused. He clasped his paws one more time.

"Ares, lord of battles, I call to you. Theseus plans to fight on behalf of all of us against the master of this accursed place. Grant that Theseus may triumph, when the time comes. Grant him victory."

A bovine hoof crushed the wooden figure.

Paulo jumped backward. Asterion chuckled.

"If you must pray, slave," he sat down with a soft thud of rock hard rump striking stone floor, lounging back against the wall, "Then pray to me."

"You are no god," Paulo said.

Asterion smirked. Paulo smelled wine on his breath.

"Perhaps not, but in the Labyrinth, only I answer prayers. Closer, slave."

Paulo hesitated, but he did not have Theseus's courage. He obeyed. Asterion smirked at him.

"Besides, I saw how you looked at me when first you saw me."

He traced a thick finger down Paulo's jawline.

"Would it be so hard to give me your worship?"

"S..stop.." Paulo whispered.

"Why should I?"

The question was playful. So were the minotaur's fingers, caressing his cheek, rubbing gently behind his right ear with such perfect pressure that Paulo's eyes shut on their own.

"A pity about Theseus. He is such a lovely dog. Even so, I must admit you have your own special charms, my little husky," Asterion murmured.

His deep voice slid the words across Paulo's skin like the brush of a summer breeze.

"Paulo. My name is Paulo," Paulo said.

"A good name. It pleases me to call you Paulo."

Paulo shivered under the bull's touch. The fingers were stroking under his chin now, a particularly weak spot of his.

"Your servants call you Highness," Paulo said.

"They do," Asterion agreed.

"What should I call you?"

Asterion smiled. He beckoned to Paulo with a finger. Paulo bit his lip and leaned closer.

"You may call me 'kyrios,' " Asterion whispered into Paulo's ear. The Greek word for master.

"Say it," Asterion murmured.

"Kyrios," Paulo said.

"Who's master?"

Paulo gave a gentle gasp of air. His cock was a hard pressure, peeking from his slave cloth.

"My...kyrios. My master."

"You please me."

Paulo moaned and cupped his paw to his mouth. Asterion smiled. He glanced down the corridor to the other huskies.

"I will find you later, Paulo. And I forbid you to...relieve yourself...until I do. Make your excuses to any lovers you may have taken among your fellow slaves."

Paulo hugged himself and huddled to the wall. He slapped at his cock, willing it to subside. Gods, if Theseus saw what effect the minotaur had on him...

A giggle made him prick his ears. A feminine giggle.

"Who's there?" he demanded.

"He does have a way about him, there's no denying that."

The speaker stepped into the nearest circle of torchlight.

She was not a husky. Her muzzle was narrower, her build slimmer. She wore a veil across her muzzle and a hood over her hears. The rest of her was wrapped in a dark violet toga.

She undid the veil and lifted back the hood. A wolf. Black fur and sharp, aquamarine eyes.

"Who are you?" Paulo asked.

She gave a half smile.

"Ariadne. You are Paulo of Athens. And your illustrious general is none other than Theseus, Prince of Athens, son of King Aegeus."

Paulo gaped at her like a fish. She laughed.

"Oh don't look so surprised, puppy! I know royal blood when I smell it. And I know certain urges when I smell them as well."

Paulo lowered his ears in shame.

"Oh please, Paulo. Do you think you're the first man to fall for that bull's charms? Men from Crete and nobles from all the nations of her allies come to pay their respects to our bovine prince. He has his share of women, too. After all, what woman wouldn't want to bear a child from such superior stock?" Ariadne scoffed.

"Have you, then?" Paulo snapped.

Ariadne gave a dramatic sigh.

"Alas, no. I am of the sisterhood of Hecate. It seems he has no appetite for sorceresses."

Paulo stared at her.

"You can come and go from here at will?"

"Of course I can, you silly puppy!"

"Praise the gods," Paulo cried. "You...you must help us, then!"

Ariadne raised an eyebrow.

"Why should I?"

Paulo had no answer at first. Then he said,

"Why come down here in the first place, then? There must be something we have that you have interest in."

She gave him a slow smile.

"Not a very fast wit, but you do catch on with enough hints. Now what do you suppose a virgin like me would want?"

Paulo glanced at Theseus.

"Exactly," Ariadne murred.

"I could arrange for him to meet you," Paulo said.

"What makes you think I need your help?"

"Because I doubt a prince of Athens will be smitten enough to bed a woman he does not trust. I give your offer credibility."

Ariadne folded her arms.

"And I suppose you want something in return?"

"What else do you know about Asterion?" Paulo asked.

"I know he's as horrified of himself as you lot are of him. He clings to his venire of nobility even though he has no real political power. He does it because if he is not a prince, then he can only be a monster. A freak of nature. A curse of the gods."

"What did he do with the other two tributes?"

"He's a bull, Athenian. Why else would the tribute ask specifically for virgins?"

"There cannot be fourteen other men lost in the Labyrinth. We would have run into one of them by now."

Ariadne nodded.

"True. And there are not."

Paulo gnawed at his lip with impatience.

"Then where are they?"

Ariadne snorted and rubbed her brow.

"You still don't see it, do you? What is the purpose of the Labyrinth? To keep our own prince locked away? Of course not! It's to keep our Athenian slaves from escaping. The Minoan Empire is the greatest naval power in the world. We will use every means at our disposal to make a profit and keep it that way.

Your virginal tributes to us began thirty years ago. Asterion was born a decade before that. Now, if you remember your arithmetic, you'll realize who's idea it really was to build the Labyrinth."

Paulo's mouth dropped open.

"Asterion ordered the Labyrinth's construction...because he'd entered manhood?"

"Insatiably. Poseidon took the form of a white bull to sire him, after all. He has Olympian virility."

Paulo shivered at the thought. Ariadne saw it and smirked.

"Oh yes, Paulo. And he combines that with your gracious war tribute to produce the finest pleasure slaves the world has ever seen. Those he no longer wants for himself are sold in the markets of Knossos once he breaks them. And there is more."

She hunched next to him.

" Even more precious than the slaves is the minotaur's seed. We Cretans even have a name for it - the golden milk. One drop of his seed would pay for a chariot and a team of warhorses. And we collect urns full of it from him.

We distill his musky sweat into an aphrodisiac. His precum is the base for the best sexual lubricant money can buy. Even the shavings of his fur are ground down and made into an alchemical tonic that's known to keep men potent into old age."

"Enough," Paulo whispered.

He covered his face with his paws, ashamed of the renewed swelling tent between his legs. Every time he thought about the bull, his body responded against his will. Every time he dreamt of Asterion, he woke clutching the skimpy white cloth and rolling against the wall until he was presentable.

"There is no shame in lusting for him," Ariadne said. "Everyone in Crete lusts for him."

"What would you know of shame? Or having to choose between loyalty and lust?"

Ariadne stood.

"I have told you what I know. I expect you to keep your end of our agreement. I will return at midnight. Asterion is asleep but he will awaken in hunger shortly. Hunger of more than one kind. I suggest you tell whomever he chooses they must pretend to enjoy it. Protest and struggle only encourage him to be rougher."

She was gone. Paulo stood, hugging himself. His erection still throbbed half hard. As he turned and padded back toward his companions, he prayed for the strength to face Theseus without revealing what he had not dared admit even to Ariadne: he hoped he would be the one chosen.

* * *

The huskies turned to look at Theseus once Paulo finished telling them of Ariadne and her knowledge of the minotaur.

"So. It seems we have more than our survival and escape to think of, but protecting our dignity as well," Theseus said.

The prince looked grim in the harsh light of the single torch they huddled under. He spat. "Were this not his country, I would curse the name of Poseidon! What possible wrongs could we have committed that would call for such a fate? If the gods be not mad, then they are crueler than the very Titans they overthrew!"

"Perhaps. Or perhaps the gods have heard us, and sent Ariadne," Paulo ventured.

Theseus sighed and nodded.

"Well, we may have several hours before she returns. Until then, let us keep on the move, with the understanding that sooner or later, the beast will come to ravage one of us. It may be impossible to elude him, but we can at least delay him his twisted pleasures."

The huskies walked together, paw in paw. By now it was second nature. Theseus held the torch before them. At intervals, they paused while he fished out his small scrap of charcoal and added another few lines to his growing map of the Labyrinth. They found a simple meal of bread and cheese waiting around a corner some hours later.

Again, Paulo ate alone, keeping to the edge of the circle of torch light. He found he had little appetite. His thoughts kept drifting back to the bull.

Paulo had known he favored men for only two summers. His first inkling came from watching the older huskies on the farm next to his home, stripped bare to the waist as they hoed furrows for planting, the muscles of their backs flexing into strong, thick knots before relaxing again as the hoe swung down.

At times at night, Pan - god of carnal desire - would send feverish dreams into Paulo's mind. Dreams of being carried away by a great, muscular man who would whisper forbidden things in his ear, things he was required to do. Things he found he hungered to do.

Now he was surrounded every minute of every day by the scent of such a male. A male who could hew down full grown trees with his bare hands. Who's seed was the very ambrosia of manhood itself.

Paulo rested his head back against the stone wall and shut his eyes.

The stone wall shifted, part of the floor separating on an invisible groove. The entire section of floor and wall spun on a hidden axis faster than Paulo could react.

"Theseus! Theseus!"

He yelled, banging his fist on the wall that was now as solid as ever. He pressed his ear to it, but the thick stone prevented any sound from reaching him from the other side.

"I will permit you to rejoin your companions soon enough, Paulo."

Paulo yelped. He turned in place and pressed his back to the wall. Asterion chuckled. The minotaur lay in a grand, rectangular chamber with golden walls, propped up on a mound of cushions. Carved reliefs depicted Poseidon in his incarnation as the great white bull - Asterion's sire.

A white marble table stood just in front of the minotaur's crotch, casting it in deep shadow and making it impossible to tell if Asterion was wearing any clothes. Two platters sat on the table with a great pitcher of wine between them.

Asterion poured a glass of wine.

"Come," he beckoned.

Paulo whined softly. Asterion shot him a stern look. Paulo stood and padded closer. His stomach snarled like a cornered bear.

Asterion chuckled.

"You must be tired of the same array of fare day after day."

Two platters, one heaped with dates as dark as twilight, the other of neatly stacked barley cakes sweetened with honey, greeted him. Paulo reached for the cakes and a hand twice his size gripped his wrist.

"I eat first, dog," Asterion said. "And as a prince, it is customary that I be served my food by a servant. It pleases me that you should be the first of your companions to do so. You are the most handsome next to that gorgeous male who leads your little pack."

Paulo set his jaw.

"Theseus will never service you."

Asterion's smile was sly.

"Oh, but you will."

The minotaur held out the goblet of wine for Paulo. Paulo reached to take it, but Asterion drew it back from his paw. Paulo lowered his paw, allowing the bull to tip the glass against his lips. Asterion's thick warm fingers gently brushed his chin as the wine trickled onto his tongue.

Rich, well-seasoned wine, aged a generation at least. Paulo had never tasted such a fine vintage. A vintage befitting royalty. Asterion looked pleased that Paulo could appreciate the quality.

"You see, Paulo, this is the nature of your imprisonment. If you please me, I will please you in return."

The double meaning was not lost on the husky, and Paulo blushed hard as he felt his shaft erupt from the sheath. Asterion's nostrils flared and his thick lips rose.

"There will be time enough for that, my husky. But first, my meal."

Asterion lay on the cushions, a great muscular dark mass of bovine flesh, his deep eyes never leaving Paulo. Paulo selected a date from the tray. Asterion gave a single nod. Paulo leaned over the table and pushed the date into Asterion's mouth.

Asterion suckled the date from Paulo's fingers, chewing, swallowing.

"You may find it easier if you change sides," he said.

It would put Paulo nearly in the bull's lap. Paulo felt his harlot of a cock throb even harder at that prospect. Paulo half crawled awkwardly around the table and sat with his knees tucked underneath him.

Asterion tsked and shook his ponderous horned head.

"My husky is stiff from so many days in my Labyrinth. That will not do."

Asterion's fingers slid up Paulo's lower back with gentle pressure. Paulo's eyes shut. The touch was sublime. Such strength in the fingers, the palm wide enough to cover his entire back. The minotaur stroked and petted his fur until Paulo's head hung low and his tongue started to loll.

"Better?"

"Yes, kyrios," Paulo whispered.

"Now feed me."

Paulo opened his eyes. The first thing he saw confirmed that Asterion was utterly nude. Paulo's eyes widened slightly and he felt his jaw threaten to grow slack. He was looking at it up close, seeing it in all its detail, from the gently curled soft sheath to the plump, round testicles that looked as if they were straining their sac, faint veins running across them.

Paulo fed Asterion one of the cakes. It crunched softly between the minotaur's huge blunt teeth.

"Good," Asterion rumbled. "You may eat a date."

Paulo hesitated, and saw Asterion smile. Asterion plucked a thick, plump date from the tray. He fed it to Paulo an inch at a time, pushing it fully into Paulo's mouth and slowly circling his lips with his thick thumb while Paulo chewed. The date, like the wine, was exquisite. It still held moisture, making it sweet and soft on the tongue.

Paulo supplied Asterion with a drink of wine and continued to feed him. Asterion never moved other than to open and close his lips around the food. Paulo found his eyes wandering over the bulging contours of the great body, noting the soft dark fur and the healthy sheen of the hide. The way the muscles formed tiny creases in the skin where they joined together.

Asterion, for his part, was not content just to look at Paulo.

His hands gently stroked Paulo's thighs, petted down his ruff, behind his ears. They dug themselves under Paulos' guard furs into the thick soft down beneath, reaching his skin. Paulo had a sudden fantasy of Asterion brushing him like a true pet dog. For an anthro-husky, such a thing would be as humiliating as being castrated. A true son of Athens would die before he allowed himself to be lowered him so.

Paulo could not deny those dark, liquid eyes with their deep-set fire. He could not deny the soft heat of Asterion's body and breath, or the way the slow pump of the bull's great heart thrummed in his canine ears. Something inside of him was shifting, replacing the Parthenon with a throne on which Asterion sat like Zeus Himself, and commanded Paulo to...

"Strip."