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Read Ebook: Battle Out of Time by Swain Dwight V
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Ebook has 1044 lines and 24562 words, and 21 pages
"Oh."
"Yes." Time for a smile now, Burke decided. His most engaging smile. "You see, there are things the man knows, things his skill's taught him--"
Ariadne stiffened in the same instant. "Things Daedalus knows--?" For the first time, her voice held an edge, dark shadows of suspicion. "How could a smith know anything that means so much? What might he say that my lord Dion had not already heard a thousand times?"
"What--?" Burke felt his smile go stiff. "Why--why, many things--his skills, his artifices--" He groped and fumbled.
"No!" In a flash all Ariadne's humility of manner vanished. She thrust Burke's restraining arm aside, defiance in the gesture. "Do you think me a fool, my lord Dion? Daedalus the Smith holds but one secret that such as you might seek to learn. One only!"
Burke stood ever so still.
Ariadne spat like a cat. "You seek the secret of the Labyrinth, my lord! You would stalk the Minotaur in his very lair! Waste no breath trying to lull me with denials!"
Burke sighed. A weary sigh, heavy with the knowledge of all the things he could not change.
And, from Ariadne: "What makes you think you're destined to succeed, where each year fourteen others fail? How dare you hope to live, when the monster that is the Minotaur has slain the mightiest warriors of all Athens?"
How, indeed? Of a sudden, Burke wanted no more of such questions.
He cut in flat and hard: "Shut up, wench!"
The girl stopped as short as if he'd slapped her. Her face paled with anger.
Only then, as she stared up at Burke, that too passed, and a mask of sudden fear came to replace the fury. Her naked breasts lifted with a quick, indrawn breath. She fell back an uncertain step ... another ... another.... "My lord--Dionysus--"
Burke laughed harshly. "All right. Call me that if you want to." And then, tight-lipped: "Because make up your mind to it, you're going to do what I say as if I were your whole damn' pantheon!"
He closed in.
The girl pressed back against the wall now--white to the lips, dark eyes distended. "Dion--Dion Burke--"
Burke gripped her wrist. "Is it agreed, then? You'll do what I tell you?"
His lovely captive winced as he twisted. "But--my lord--the Minotaur--Dion, it will slay you!"
"Maybe. And then again, maybe not." Burke brushed a hand against the revolver in his waistband. "You see, I won't be on quite the same spot as those others who died, Ariadne. I've reserved a couple of special Dionysan thunderbolts to try out on your monster, patent of two subsidiary gods named Smith & Wesson."
"But Daedalus--he's my father's man, Lord Dion, chief of all the palace craftsmen. He'd never help you, even if you could reach him."
"I'll reach him. And he'll help me."
"But why, my lord? Why risk it?" A sudden taut, eager note crept into Ariadne's voice. With her free hand, she smoothed the fabric of Burke's shirt. "Don't you see? There's no need--not when you've the power to come here as you have tonight, in spite of all my father's guards! Under his very sword, we can be lovers--"
Burke smiled bleakly. "I'm sorry, princess. I wish it were that simple."
"But it is!" Now Ariadne's lithe young body once more was tight against his. "I want you to come, my lord Dion! I welcome you--"
"I know. And ... I love you too." For the fraction of a second Burke let his arms tighten around her.
Then, abruptly, he pushed back; gripped her shoulders. "You see, I can't just come and go at will, the way you seem to think I can. And even if I could, it wouldn't help."
"It would not--?" Blank bafflement spread across Ariadne's lovely face.
"Not after tonight."
Puzzled eyes. A wordless question.
Tension, spiraling higher with each passing second.
Burke said, "Now you know why I came tonight, Ariadne: because this is the last chance I'll ever have. I've got to get you out of here, now or never. That's why I have to see Daedalus, and go into the Labyrinth, and meet the Minotaur and kill it."
Still the silence echoed.
A numb despair seeped through Burke. Bleakly, he wondered how he ever had been fool enough to think his words might spark response in a Bronze Age mind, or that any such mad enterprise as this could possibly end otherwise than in disaster.
Only then, while he watched, once more Ariadne bowed her head and crossed her hands upon her breasts. Her words came low, submissive: "The quarters of Daedalus the Smith lie close at hand, my lord."
She turned as she spoke.
Heart pounding, Burke walked with her towards the doorway....
There was a guard in the corridor beyond the Queen's Megaron.
Wordless, Burke flicked a glance at Ariadne.
Her dark eyes flashed a daredevil acceptance of the challenge. Sliding past him, she swung the heavy door back so it hid him, then leaned against it, body arched in practiced coquetry.
The spearman outside straightened just a fraction. His chest swelled and his belly drew in.
Slowly, Ariadne's full lips curved in a smile that was all invitation. Her hand came up to smooth her hair as she turned, twisting and preening. Then, still unspeaking, and with one last lingering glance over her shoulder, she drew back into her own apartment.
The guard's head swiveled as his eyes followed her.
Ariadne laughed softly from the shadows. Her long skirt swirled and rustled.
The guard's breath rasped in the stillness. For an instant he hesitated, peering down the hall in both directions. Then, eagerly, he crossed the threshold and moved with swift steps towards the princess.
Burke waited till the man was clear of the door. Then, savagely, the Smith & Wesson flat on the palm of his hand, he stepped forth from his hiding place and smashed a blow to the back of the other's neck.
The guard's knees hinged. He spilled to the floor.
Burke snapped, "Quick! Cords! A gag!"
The shrill, nerve-jangling squeal of cloth tearing echoed. Deftly, Ariadne thrust strips from a drape into his hands.
Burke bound and gagged the guard, then straightened and strode across the room to where bull-necked, snoring Theseus lay, the stench of sour wine still thick about him.
Ariadne came close. "More cloth, my lord?"
Burke prodded the Greek ungently with his toe, without response; then once more glanced at his watch.
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