Transformation Story: Coming to Tavrokranos

Coming to Tavrokranos

Nikias blinked and shook his head to clear it. The day was well advanced and in his heavy bronze helmet and hard leather breastplate, he was sweating hard. He then realised he had to trust it was sweat and not blood. What had just happened, he was not sure. It was clear he was pressed against the wall of a narrow gulley. This island, Tavrokranos, was criss-crossed with them. Before coming here, he had been told it was an easy place to become lost on and that now appeared to be the truth. Aside from the rock-sided channels, the paths through the forest which cloaked the heights of this place twisted, and often, so the last hours had shown him, came back on themselves. Nikias was no fool and had slashed patterns on bark with his sword and piled up stones where he could to mark the path taken. Still, just when he thought he was making good progress across the island, he had found himself coming back across these signs.

Nikias was sure he had caught sight of the monster that he had come to confront. It was supposed to be here; it had to be here. Perhaps, he conceded, his eyes had been tricked by the light; by this tiredness, by the shadows among the trees and in these gullies. However, he reminding himself that there had been too many reports of the creature, from sailors, and those fishermen not scared of old wives’ tales, who had put ashore here in search of fresh water, timber or even fruit. They spoke of the bull-headed man with the strength of five, perhaps ten, who would snatch them up; they were sure, to be eaten. While without his own boat, the bull-man was no direct threat to Palioslimin, this place was close enough to that town to make the merchants, and especially those more superstitious citizens, demand that ‘something be done’.

As the town’s leader and one-time war hero, it fell to Nikias to deal with it. Maybe, he thought now, he should have come ashore with two dozen men, but that was not how leaders; heroes were supposed to deal with it. A small ship, not much larger than a fishing boat, sat offshore but it would only come up to one of Tavrokranos’s beaches when he signalled. That itself might prove a challenge, as while the sun showed him east and west, just precisely where he was along the length of the island, had become a mystery.

Now, Nikias wondered if he was delirious, his mind coursing with so many thoughts when he should stay focused. Perhaps it was traipsing around this place since dawn and well into the heat of the day. He tried to reach for the leather bottle that hung from his belt and realised then what he had been missing. He was not simply leant on the side of the gulley, he was trapped against it. His foot was numb but looking down now he saw the bottom of his right greave and the foot below were hidden by rock. He tried to pull his leg free; and while no pain came to him, it was quickly shown that he could not get it clear. On the other side of his body, it seemed as if the sleeve of his chiton; perhaps his left arm itself was wedged in a crevice there. As he tugged at that side, small rocks tumbled down, slapping against the shoulder of his armour. Then he remembered the fall and the thump against his helmet. While it had spared his skull, it seemed now that the blow had knocked him unconscious.

As he assessed his situation, Nikias began to wish the rock had finished him. If he was unable to get free, then it seemed he would either die of thirst or be eaten alive the way the feckless sailors had been in the past. Then a large shadow blocked the sunlight and Nikias realised it was his opponent. With the light behind him, it was difficult to make out the details. However, the man; the creature? stood a large head taller even than Nikias in his helmet. He was probably half as wide again too. The bull-like head was clear even when silhouetted – the long snout and the large horns were just as the witnesses had said. Was he some unfortunate born this way? Had he been cursed by the gods or perhaps thought blessed by Poseidon, the god of the sea, but whose animal was the bull.

The creature stepped closer and as he shifted into the shade himself, shielding his eyes with his right hand, Nikias made out more of him. He was hairy but far from naked, wearing a crude pteruges though belted up to encase his crotch. On his forearms were wrappings bound on by thongs. His chest carried a leather tunic and he had boots of similar material up his calves. Presumably this was suitable armour sufficient for him to fight off any of those sailors whose bravery was sufficient to lunge at him with spears and knives. Probably too, it stopped gashes as he moved his large form through the narrow gullies and tight forest tracks. He carried a large club, that, despite the cloth wrappings, presumably aimed to aid grip, looked to be a length of rock.  Perhaps I was a natural formation broken off or one worked into being this weapon. Nikias could imagine that wielded by the creature, it was enough to flatten his helmet and so mean his life ended quickly. Surely that was better than lingering through hours here.

‘This is not a fair battle.’

The voice startled Nikias and he wondered if he had dreamt it or had said the words himself. However, the tone was deep, even sonorous and Nikias felt he could not deny the bull-man had spoken to him in Greek. He did not know how to answer. Never at any stage in planning this quest had he envisaged actually talking with the beast.

A few moments past and the creature put down his club and crouched. He grasped the rock at Nikias foot and then simply stood, lifting it clear. Nikias moved his leg quickly, seeing that it was gashed but not harmed beyond repair. The bull-man then went behind him. Nikias could feel the hot breath on his neck but did not even attempt to look back. The creature groaned this time and there were small rocks falling.

‘Pull out; pull out now!’ the creature insisted.

Nikias lunged clear of the rock. The bull-man himself jumped away; the strength of his massive thighs proved capable of projecting even his bulk a good distance. More of the gulley wall broke away, sending both Nikias and his rescuer scurrying back. As the dust settled, Nikias thought to reach for his sword, but then realised that his rescue had been won because the creature wanted a ‘fair’ fight rather than to simply prey on the defenceless. Instead, Nikias reached for his leather bottle. However, his left arm was not simply stiff, it now shrieked pain to his head. He staggered, feeling dizzy and then vomited. Stepping back his right foot gave way and in an undignified way the warrior fell down on the flat rocks at the floor of the gulley.

A deep sound emerged from the bull-man and it took some moments for Nikias to realise that the creature was laughing. It was galling to be so humiliated. He just consoled himself that there were no witnesses. Thus, however he died, the story that went back to Palioslimin would be that he had been brave but ultimately, he had been defeated, battling on behalf of his people. Any of that was better than this true story.

‘I am sorry. It is none of your fault. The gods have not been with you today. Sometimes I think they favour me … or perhaps seek to compensate me for … for what I am.’

Those impressions were not ones Nikias felt he could challenge.

‘I fight men who can fight. I think your wounds are … well inside more than out. It will be many days before you are fit to fight again. As with myself, I do not know if that is a blessing or a curse of the gods; it just is. However, in a strange way it makes us equal.’

‘I would not have thought of that.’ Nikias conceded while he tried to imagine where this was going. ‘You speak well for … for a man on a remote island.’

The bull-man laughed lightly. ‘I am Krios; I used to live at court. Not in the main chambers, of course, but I learnt my words; my reading; some crafts there. However, none were of my kind and I sought others.’

‘Did you find them?’

Nikias looked both ways along the gulley and out the nearest end to the meadow and forest beyond. He did wonder if while this one might be the champion of these people, he defended a settlement of more.

‘Not at first. However, eventually I found this place and I can only think it was the place of my origin; the place of those like me.’

‘I see.’

‘And so you defend it?’

‘As much as you would defend Olympus or Delphi or wherever you feel the Greek people first came from. Do you understand?’

‘So, we fight. You need to combat the intruder.’

‘I would, but you are an invalid, at least for now. There have been old men, old women, infants who have ended up on these shores and I would not fight them. There is room enough for a life here.’

‘So, I can go?’

‘Yes, you can, but on one condition. If we had fought, your town would have lost one of its own. Now you return and that may give courage to others to come here.’

‘I might say you were dead.’

‘Without my head, no-one will believe even you. No, you must send one in your place.’

‘And what will happen to them?’

‘It depends who they are; what their function is. Yes, if they are a warrior, they will be my next opponent; but others might become … become my servant; my tutor; my companion; my goatherd; my barber, I cannot tell.’

‘And I decide who to send?’

‘No, the gods decide. The first to greet you when you reach Palioslimin, will come as soon as possible.’

‘What happens if they do not want to?’

‘Then you must compel them; abduct them if you must. Get them to one of this island’s shores and you will have discharged your duty. You may return again if you choose, to fight me and that time I will pray that the island’s nature does not make the contest void.’

Nikias contemplated what had been said to him and realised that, unless he wanted instant death, he had to accept what had been set out. He was sure it would be a sailor or a dock hand who would greet him first on his return. They would find some duty serving this creature here and in the meantime he would heal. Next time he would return not with simply two dozen men, but ten or twenty dozen. They would conduct a campaign. They would give the bull-man a fair fight, but it would be a fight all the same. Realising he had lost his spear and shield somewhere, Nikias drew his sword and used it to help himself get up. The bull-man was simply standing, hands resting on his waist.

‘I accept,’ Nikias said firmly.

‘It was not an offer; it was instructions.’

‘Well, I will comply.’

‘I shall know if there are tricks.’

Nikias might have once felt that was just boasting, but the particular nature of this man; the sense that he was indeed under the guardianship of at least one god, made the warrior certain it was the truth.

‘No, on the life of my wife and my daughter, I swear I shall do as you say.’

‘Good. Now follow that path there until you reach the oak tree split by lightning. Take the track to the left of it and you come back to the beach that looks out on your ship. Farewell and I trust that the sea does not take what I have given up today.’

Nikias hobbled off in the direction the creature had indicated. Reaching the trees, he secured a broken off branch as a stick to help him. He looked back but was unsurprised to see the island’s champion was gone. Slowly and with increasing pain, Nikias went the way he had been told and did find himself at the beach; the ship in sight. He waved at it and then caught the sun on the metal of his helmet. Soon the boat which had brought him was returning to shore and it was not long before crew members were lifting him aboard the ship and setting sail back to Palioslimin.

****

Elpida ran along the quay. Almost the moment it had appeared over the horizon, she had recognised her uncle’s ship from the clifftop that edged the town. It was now being rowed the short way into the harbour. While Elpida had always found Uncle Nikias a little distant, she was grateful for the home he had provided and, unlike her cousin, Polyxene, she did not tire of his tales of the journeys he had been on and the battles in which he had fought, in his youth. The fact that it seemed likely that he was coming home as vanquisher of what some had dubbed the ‘tavromachos’ excited her further. She felt herself lucky to be alive at this time; to be related to an actual hero that she was sure there would soon be epic stories about. Perhaps it was this sense; the wish to hear the story first, which had led Elpida to look out for her uncle and rush to be the first to greet him.

As the small ship was rowed through the harbour entrance, Elpida caught sight of her uncle standing in the bow. He seemed to gazing into the water and then as he moved his head, she saw that his face was bruised. Then she noticed that his left arm was in a sling and he carried a staff. He moved awkwardly. She wondered if she should take these injuries as being expected. The fact that he was alive, surely though was good news. However, his demeanour perhaps suggested that he had failed in his mission; that something else had harmed him, perhaps even before he had reached the island.

‘Uncle! Uncle!’ Elpida called, waving vigorously at him.

She knew she had a lot to be grateful for him taking her in and felt it was important he always understood her gratitude. Elpida’s mother had been young herself when she had had her; the by-blow of an encounter with a soldier. Now she was in a better position in Corinth, but her step-father, while not unpleasant, had been very cool towards the daughter who was now a woman himself. Elpida had the sense that he worried over the bride-price he might have to find to get her, a bastard girl, whose father was unknown, married off.

All these factors, had meant on reaching a suitable age, Elpida, not against her will, had been sent off to her the home of her mother’s eldest sister, Klymene, who had married well. Nikias could have had the attitude towards her that matched her step-father’s. However, perhaps simply for a companion for his daughter Polyxene, he had welcomed her in.

Finally Nikias looked her way. There was a moment of delight in seeing her but quickly the more sombre expression returned to his face. As the gangplank came down, Elpida went to the foot of it and embraced her uncle.

‘You are back, alive,’ she said trying to instill some positivity.

‘Yes … but at a price.’

‘You did not kill the beast – this tavromachos?’

‘I have seen him close to; indeed I have spoken to him.’

‘It can speak?’

‘Yes, it – he – calls himself Krios. He was raised in a court. I guess that is no surprise. He should not really be named a tavromachos but a minotaur.’

‘Ah,’ was all that Elpida could offer in response.

She had heard stories of the minotaur down the years, but like many others she had assumed the tellers had elaborated it with fantastical elements to make it stand out from those of straightforward voyages and wars. Perhaps, Elpida now reflected, those stories had been more accurate than she had assumed. If nothing else, she had believed there was a single minotaur but now it seemed there were more. Was this one from Media or Persis or perhaps nearer, across the sea from Libya? Was it any surprise that creatures – strange people – from those lands would sometimes travel, or be brought, to Greece?

‘I made a bargain with him. For my life. I was injured.’ Nikias gestured to his arm, foot and head.

‘And he wants hostages?’

‘One hostage in exchange for him not threatening us here in Palioslimin,’ Elpida blurted out.

If she was suddenly finding that the legends were truer than she had thought, it seemed to make sense that the inhabitants of those stories would behave just as they were said once to have done.

‘He wants you to send Polyxene. But … no, you cannot give up your only daughter to this creature … this strange man. I am sure you would give your life instead of her.’

Nikias coughed and then looked to be about to say something.

‘Send me in her place,’ Elpida said abruptly.

She suddenly felt an urge to be a part of this new story; to be able to do something for the aunt and uncle; for her cousin, in return for all that they had provided.

‘I … I could not do that,’ Nikias said hesitantly. ‘However, as you have gathered, you are precisely the kind of hostage he is seeking. He said that whoever was sent would … well, as you can imagine, he would not look kindly if I sent a warrior … or an assassin.’

Elpida smiled at that. While she was unskilled in arms and had no “weapon” greater than knives to cut fruit or hair, she felt she had a degree of cunning and wits. A time would come when this man; this minotaur slept or was drunk on wine looted from a wrecked ship and she could use such a knife to end him. The sense of her being the heroine of the story; the bastard girl who ended the threat to her adoptive home town, made Elpida a little dizzy with expectation.

‘It is settled. We will tell Polyxene and Aunt Klymene that it was me that the minotaur selected to be sent as a hostage. I go willingly for the good of the people of Palioslimin.’

Nikias grinned and then winced. ‘It is a big sacrifice, niece, but you have made … well, you have made what I feared would be such a challenging task, so much easier. I am grateful for that and the people of this town will praise your name – a courageous young lady stepping in to bring peace in one way, when her uncle has unfortunately failed in the other.’

Elpida smile and kissed his cheek. She felt excited for this new step. While life in Palioslimin made her content, she realised now that she was really relishing an adventure; one that would immortalise her in a dramatic tale for generations to come.

****

Elpida stepped on to the beach and almost immediately, one sailor came behind her but quickly turned to push the boat out to sea. She watched for some moments as the two rowed back towards the ship as if the minotaur itself was rushing towards them. The ship was anchored well off shore but given its relatively small size, Elpida knew it could have come in closer. While she had been increasingly apprehensive about this mission on the journey here, Elpida felt a degree of pride that she was not as fearful of what lay on Tavrokranos as those sailors, some who were twice her age or more.

Guessing that she had to head to the centre of the island in order to meet her captor, Elpida went up the beach. She had a leather bag on a strap over one shoulder. This held dried fish, olives and twice-baked bread in case she struggled to find food. At her hip was a leather bottle of water, though she already knew that, at least, somewhere on the island was fresh water, one of the things that had led sailors to come ashore in the past. In addition to her usual eating knife and a sharpening stone for it, Elpida had a longer knife, almost a short sword, in a leather sheath. This was to cut wood or ever slaughter wildlife, if she needed to.

Elpida had had no real training in combat but remained confident that when the time came, she could cut down the minotaur. Aside from a straw hat of the kind a farmer might wear, though of better quality than theirs; a chiton which reached down to the middle of her thighs and hobnailed sandals, she wore a leather jerkin. It was certainly not a breastplate: the leather was softer and indeed it was too large for her. Still it made Elpida feel that little bit more prepared to battle whatever came at her.

A small stream went through quite a broad gulley before running across the beach. This seemed the most sensible route to the island’s interior and, she imagined it to be the way sailors had gone if hunting for meat or fruit. As she began to rise up the gulley, which was lined with grass where the water fed it, Elpida became aware of something ahead of her. Raising her head so her hat’s brim shielded her eyes, she saw that a large form stood there. In seconds she made out the horned head and realised that she had found the minotaur; this Krios. As she climbed towards him, Elpida felt some apprehension. However, as she had surmised on the ship, if he had wanted a killing, he would have ended her uncle when he could have done. Hostages were no use once they were dead.

Elpida hurried on now, feeling it was important to present herself to the minotaur to show that her uncle had fulfilled his promise, so Palioslimin and any of its sailors who ended up here, should be spared. However, by the time she had clambered to the top of the gulley where it became shallower and opened into a field, Elpida realised that one of the times she had looked down to make sure she did not lose her footing, the minotaur had taken the opportunity to slip away. Catching her breath on the meadow, Elpida looked around her, wondering if there was any trace of him; considering if this was a game of some kind. Then she worried that this was a trick: the minotaur would evade her and pretend she had never reached him, allowing him to renege on his side of the promise.

Now Elpida wished she had hunting skills to track down the minotaur so she could insist to him that she had arrived. Then she realised that perhaps she had, in fact, all she needed. Going down on one knee, Elpida looked along the grass and realised that while there were various tracks, she imagined left by goats, there was only one fresh set that could have been made by the minotaur. It was probably unsurprising, given that he had clearly been bulkier than a man, that he would crush the grass down much more than a man. It was quickly apparent he had headed into the olive grove which rose up from the meadow towards the centre of the island. Once in there it proved even easier to track him as his boot prints were clear in the soft soil. The gap between them, though, was wide and Elpida marvelled at the breadth of his stride.

Then the olives gave way to more rugged terrain before Elpida entered pine trees. Being hot and thirsty, she snatched a drink from her leather bottle but was loath to stop and rest for fear of losing the minotaur or him getting further ahead if he crested the centre of the island and started heading down a slope somewhere. Then, however, she came into a clearing and a stone building stood in front of her. It looked to have been built of the kind of stone she could see around on the island, but it had clearly been worked into even blocks. It was not unusual in Greece, she knew, to find buildings, whether abandoned homes or associated with farming, or that had once been temples, which were decades, even hundreds of years old. This one had clearly once been important and Elpida wondered what had led to it become deserted. Maybe it had been the arrival of the minotaur or maybe his ancestors that had driven the residents away. Having a growing sense this had been a temple, Elpida considered whether perhaps people had simply stopped believing in whatever had led them to construct this place.

Up a short flight of steps was a doorway. There was no roof over it, though straining Elpida thought she could make out a terracotta tiled roof further in. Better comprehending its extent now, she wondered if this place had been some kind of palace or fort or even a small walled town. Inside she was faced with corridors that were quite narrow, though broad enough, it seemed to permit the minotaur to pass down them without difficulty. The problem was that, immediately, the corridor ran to the left and to the right. Crouching down and feeling on the floor, though, Elpida found the kind of traces she was looking for. There were pine needles that looked to have stuck to the minotaur’s boots, being dropped as he walked briskly on. Following these brought her to a three-way junction and then beyond.

Elpida continued, almost crouching down as she went, looking for any trace lit by the shafts of sunlight from above. Then she realised that this path had clearly not been walked often and so dust was layered on much of the stone floor. Looking carefully, she could see the faint imprint of the boots. Soon it also appeared that some leaves and twigs had blown in, perhaps in the last storm or dropped by birds; indeed she disturbed some pigeons from one corridor as she came down it. These remnants crushed by the passage of the heavy man-beast; even small bird feathers pinned to the floor provided traces that allowed Elpida to proceed the way she was sure this Krios had gone. As she progressed deeper into the maze of corridors and occasional small rooms, she was pleased that she had been attentive to what tracks she could find. If she had been careless, Elpida realised, she could easily have become lost and may have ended up trekking back and forth not even able to get back to the entrance.

Turning a corner, the stone flooring and the walls changed abruptly. They were now all a pale grey and white shade of marble that reminded Elpida of Macedonian cattle. Now she wondered, having seen it almost in silhouette whether this would be the shade of the minotaur’s head. Certainly his horns seemed to have had that large curved form that characterised those particular bulls. The other change now was that, whereas before the corridors had been straight and turned at right angles, this corridor curved away from her. The tiled roof was not far away and Elpida could see that it was circular. She felt her sense that this place held at least a shrine, if not a full temple was reinforced. Elpida wondered if its maze-like nature had been some kind of test for the priests or even just the worshippers of whichever deity had been the focus of its place. Was this a temple of Poseidon? If so, it seemed odd to have it so far from the sea. Though, saying that, perhaps when she cleared this place, she would look from a cliff out over the waters.

The more immediate problem was that there were no signs of the traces that had led her thus far. Elpida, feeling now that the roofed area must be her objective, simply walked off in a random direction and turned whenever she felt a route would take her closer to that spot. However, it was not long before she was simply back at the entrance; perhaps, she conceded, one of many, to the marble-floored area. From here she could step back into the straight corridors, but that, she felt sure was not the way to go. Feeling as if the weariness of this journey was suddenly falling on her all at once, Elpida leant back against the wall. She took out some bread and fish and munched on these. Then she glugged more of her water.

Feeling refreshed, Elpida now had a frustration that she could not reach Krios. She felt certain that he was close and awaiting her arrival. She recognised a curiosity inside her to see this legendary man in front of her. Her mind quickly filled with imaginations of what he would be like; whether he would be terrifying. Then she thought of some of the warriors who protected Palioslimin and how she had admired their strong bodies; thought what it would be to lie with them, even to take one as a husband. Krios, was greater than any of them and she was no naïf not to know what happened between married couples or, indeed, between men and women on little acquaintance. However, Elpida tempered that with the thought that, if seeing that a woman had come ashore, if Krios had wanted to take her, he would have rushed down to the beach. Instead he had led her this way to somewhere where she might have become lost and in fact never reach him.

Now Elpida found almost an ache to reach Krios, to see him properly, to find out precisely what he wanted from all of this. She sent a prayer to Poseidon who was naturally favoured in Palioslimin, being a port, and whose animal was the bull. Then Elpida suddenly felt as if there was a presence beside her. It was large and she snapped open her eyes thinking that, as she had prayed, the minotaur had come upon her. Finding he was not, she felt bereft. Then it was as if something was tugging at her; that her hand had been taken and now she was being led. Elpida paid little attention to the route she now followed and was just eager not to lose touch with whatever force was guiding her. She was aware, however, when she very soon stepped into the roofed room. In the centre feeding into a marble-lined pool was a small fountain; most likely it seemed, a natural spring.

Unlike the abandoned nature of the rest of this structure, this room looked somehow pristine. It was shaded, but various vents allowed shafts of light to criss-cross through it. They showed up that the walls had large sheets of polished bronze making a series of mirrors that reflected a version of Elpida off into the infinite. One, she noticed then, was actually a door. She went to it and tried to lift the heavy bronze latch but it was beyond her strength. Now Elpida wondered if this was to be her prison cell. Even if she tried, she knew it would be a challenge to find her way back through the maze. Perhaps all chance of escape had gone when she had walked clear of the entrance doorway. Yet, something in Elpida, would not accept that portrayal of what she had experienced. She felt certain that Poseidon, indeed Krios, would not treat her that way.

Sitting down on the low wall that edged the pool, Elpida told herself that twice she had found a way to progress and there should be no reason to think that this time she would be thwarted. She just had to use her wits and, as she had done in the corridor, reach out to Krios to seek guidance. She closed her eyes and thought hard of him. She realised that she already seemed to know much more about his features than she could ever have seen back at the beach. It was even becoming as if she had known him well. His face indeed was the shade of the marble as she had guessed. His size and strength were greater than that of even the largest warrior she had seen. Something came to Elpida that she recognised as yearning. It was a heady mix of curiosity, anticipation and what she quickly identified as lust. Any sense that it was wrong to think those things of a bull-man would not lodge in Elpida’s thoughts.

Opening her eyes, Elpida felt hot and in fact even more frustrated. She bent over the pool and splashed the water over her face. It was incredibly cooling, though it seemed to do nothing to reduce the heat inside her. Now, for the first time, she saw that a marble cup with a long handle sat on the other side of the pool. Quickly she reached for it and filled it with the spring water. It was so delicious. As she drank, it was almost as if Elpida could feel it not simply running down her throat but somehow flowing into every part of her body. The sensation continued growing stronger and stronger. She drank another cupful.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Elpida stood up from the pool’s rim. Her limbs felt heavy but not as if they were going to drag her to the ground, but instead they seemed to be keeping her up, making her feel more established on the marble floor. Now, it was as if her head was expanding and with the straining and then cracking of the straw hat, Elpida realised that that was genuine. It was beyond denying now that this place; perhaps the water, had worked some magic; wrought some curse. Quickly she accepted that if a bull-headed man from legends could be real, then many of the other elements of those stories might prove true, especially in a place as exceptional as this.

Elpida tugged at the straw hat which had split. She had to haul one side one way and the other the other. Looking at the large holes pierced through the straw, Elpida felt a stunning recognition of what she was becoming. She looked to the bronze mirrors and saw that black-tipped horns had emerged from the side of her head. As if satisfied that she had established that, now she felt her mouth, her nose her entire face, stretch forward and widen. It was clear that she was being transformed into a minotaur.

Elpida tried hard to pray, and begged, ‘No, no,’ to the sky; to the gods. Her voice quickly sounded alien to her. It was very deep now but she guessed she should be pleased that words rather than simply lowing came from her widening mouth and her growing tongue. Her neck felt to be growing thicker too and Elpida imagined that was so it could bear her cow-like, horned head. The horns had stretched out now so that the black tips faded into long white stretches that appeared to growing with every moment. Then the tips began to arc upwards and Elpida knew that soon she would have the classic “lyre” form horns of the Macedonian cattle. Then she realised that she had not even noticed how her ears had come out from lying against her head and instead were extending in a leaf-like form proud of it.

Trying not to obsess over the reflection of her changing face, the element which unsettled her most, Elpida looked down; realising now that she had not understood the changes to the parts of her body which largely remained human. He chiton had been ripped through and her body now pressed tight against the leather jerkin she had over it. Her breasts pushed out in a way that she found too pleasurable. They were enlarged but were standing erect. They matched what she saw was happening to her arms. They were broad and now rippled with muscle. The fingers had grown to match her larger hands but their nails were more extensive and had a hardness to them as if they were like a hoof on the end of each.

The snapping away of Elpida’s sandals told her that her feet were the last of her to change; maybe because they were furthest from where the magical water had been. Rather than simply grow as she might have expected, twisting to look beyond her enlarged breasts and then looking over to them in one of the mirrors, Elpida watched as her toes coalesced into two equal groups these both hardened and blackened as they withdrew slowly. Soon though they did not stretch much beyond the circumference of her muscled lower legs. Aside from the pair of dew claws, the rest of her legs were human, though of course, now made stronger than those of the toughest warrior she had seen. Did Krios have feet like these? Perhaps their cloven nature was hidden by the boots he wore. Elpida moved carefully, worried she would lose her balance on these strange feet and was conscious of her new hooves clacking on the marble floor.

Though Elpida still felt warm, the sensations of pressure around her head and her body finally ebbed until it seemed, as far as she could tell, that her transformation was complete. Tentatively she lifted her head. While she knew it was her reflected in the crude mirrors, the image of the cow-headed woman with the large horns - now impressive, she had to admit, at their fullest extent - was alien. Her long black hair had now been rendered the white-grey to fit the tone of her skin, particularly on her face and neck but shading much of her now. Her body’s skin was now like a hide than that of a woman. Elpida turned her head from side-to-side and wondered if she would be compelled to eat grass. Baring her teeth though, they looked more suited to meat than vegetation. She recalled the stories that said the minotaurs were meat-eaters.

Turning back to look at herself from the side, Elpida tried to reconcile herself to her image. She saw the tail extending from the small of her back; missed while she had been coping with the reshaping of her limbs and torso, but now reaching over her rounded, but firm buttocks. Willing it to move, Elpida swished her tail and gave out a deep chuckle, feeling that it was some compensation that she had a new way to chase off any insects that troubled her. Still, it was clear that this way she could never return to Palioslimin; indeed probably never back to human society. Was this what had been meant as a hostage or was this something she had brought on herself by drinking the spring water? Was this even an answer to her prayer – Poseidon shaping her so she could survive here? While still disturbed by what had happened, Elpida knew never to question the actions; the reshapings, rendered by the gods. If nothing else, while she might be a female minotaur, she certainly felt she would stand a far better chance of opposing Krios in this form than she would have been if she had remained on Tavrokranos as a young woman.

Recognising that there was nothing more for her to do here now, Elpida went to the bronze door. She was unsurprised to find that with her new strength she lifted the latch easily. She wondered if that had been the point. If this was the “birth place” of the minotaurs, only those who accepted this form would be permitted to leave here. Stepping from the relative shade of the round building, Elpida blinked her eyes which she imagined would have only a little white bracketing a large, very dark iris. That they faced forward rather than to the sides, seemed to emphasise that a minotaur was a predator rather than a grazer.

As her sight adjusted to the bright light here, Elpida saw it was as she had surmised. There was a meadow here running to a cliff edge and beyond stretched the sea; no doubt perceived as the best way to present the newly created minotaurs to their patron god. Were they actually blessed rather than cursed? Were they deemed greater than the ordinary humans? Was this something a hero; a heroine should aspire to? Elpida could not deny that she now felt something beautiful in her bovine face, let alone her proud horns. Then there was her strength. She could imagine wrestling any warrior to the ground.

‘Zosime,’ a deep voice came from the pine woods which ran along one side of the meadow.

Elpida quickly looked that way, quickly catching sight of Krios in the shade at the edge of the trees. Suddenly Elpida felt embarrassed and was certainly glad that at least some of her clothes had had the capacity; the give, to accommodate her new form. Still, it did feel as if she was meeting her prospective husband for the first time.

‘Zosime, come.’

Krios gestured with his large fingers for her to join him. Though she remained uncertain, Elpida found herself walking with long strides to him. The desire to see; to touch his body which had come first close to the pool room, now returned in full force. Elpida guessed it was unsurprising, especially given she was now of his kind. She wondered too whether, at least having some attributes of a heifer, that nature would over-rule inhibitions she would have had as just a woman and she would be unable to resist her urges.

Elpida stopped a few steps from where Krios stood. She was a little shy as he viewed her body shamelessly, but found herself doing the same. He had no top on and a leather loin cloth just stretched from his waist. His boots and other clothes, all seemingly made of buckskin, lay on the ground. Resting on a log were strips of deer leather that she imagined would now be made into her clothes.

‘I am not Zosime, I am Elpida.’

Though she knew no woman in Palioslimin named that, she worried that somehow Krios had expected someone else in her place; had led the wrong one to be transformed.

‘Elpida was a woman, not a tavromachos. You have become Zosime.’

‘I guess I have.’ The name meant ‘survivor’ and that was what she had proven to be. ‘Did you know I would … well, get through the maze? Be transformed?’

‘No. I was surprised when I saw a woman had been sent.’

‘What would you have done if it had been a man?’

‘I do not know. I was hesitant about leading you to the maze. Partly I worried you would remain lost in it, but … but, well something guided me to take you there and I guess, this was what was predestined.’

‘For me to become a tavromachos?’ Elpida felt a strange glow of pride to identify herself properly as what she was now.

‘I do not question the decisions of the gods, but perhaps it was a reward for sparing Nikias.’

Elpida laughed. ‘Typical that the woman is a reward to be given and accepted and what about me?’

‘So you see this as a punishment?’

For a moment Elpida was going to snap back a ‘yes’; but Zosime felt more ambivalent. She recalled the thoughts she had had emerging from the changing room about how tavromachoi might be greater.

‘Would you let me … would you change me back?’ She wondered if it was possible.

‘Would you want that?’

Elpida wanted again to say ‘yes’, but Zosime responded, with ‘no.’

‘I mean …’ she struggled to correct herself. ‘I mean no,’ she repeated. ‘I don’t want to be a human; I mean I want to be a tavromachos.’

There was a sense of exasperation and Elpida worried that something was making her say things that ran contrary to what she believed. She wondered if she could trick it and say the opposite to get what she believed she wanted.

‘No, I don’t want to be changed back. I want to be a tavromachos.’

This time, though, it felt as if saying it that way had made it become the truth. Confused, Elpida tried to assess what she did want. Instead, though she found herself walking right over to Krios aware that his loin cloth was falling to the side away from his very large and quickly hardening penis. Not ready to face that yet, she rested her broad hand on his chest feeling the light hair which coated his hide. She then reached up with both hands and cupped his face. She was only a little shorter than him now. In moments she was kissing him, enjoying their long tongues toying with each other’s.

Rationally Elpida felt she did not want this. However, her tavromachos body certainly did. Her large nipples throbbed and what she had considered her pleasurable nubbin was larger in this form and was demanding attention. It was clear that as she had been coming to understand, her body was eager to couple with one of its own kind. Becoming a tavromachos had removed any human inhibitions to get in the way of what she needed. Krios’s cock was right out in front of him pressed against her hip. Elpida wondered what would happen if she gave into her new body’s demands and coupled with Krios. Would mating with him close off any way back to humanity for her? However, this was Zosime’s body with her urges, and increasingly with her thoughts and wishes in charge. She shifted so that she could butt the head of Krios’s cock against the lips of her sex. She paid little attention to the size and form, just glad she could be mated from the front and not compelled to be mounted like a heifer.

Reaching around her, Krios took hold of the jerkin which, with her change, had become a short, tight leather dress and pulled it away from her. Now Zosime’s large, extended nipples brushed over his lightly haired chest and she simpered with the pleasure. She slid down his body and clear of his grasp and then turned and scurried from the pine needles out on to the grass. If Poseidon had gifted her this form, then Zosime was going to praise him by showing what she could do with it. She lay back her horned head and spread her strong thighs wide. Then Krios had caught up with her and did the most wonderful long licks up her pussy and curling around her clitoris.

Now Zosime was unafraid to let herself low her pleasure. She was so wet that even the large hard cock that Krios was endowed with seemed to slip easily deep inside her. While there had been times when she had toyed with her sex as Elpida, it was as Zosime; as female tavromachos, that her virginity was not taken, but was given. Zosime played with her hard, long nipples and squirmed delightedly beneath her mate, barely believing the pleasure that this body could be given; could take. It was her who, shaken by all the new sensations was soon arching her muscled back, thrusting her hips hard into her mate in ecstasy. However, seeing this one who had proven herself so worthy of becoming what she was; of coupling with him, Krios was soon spraying seed deep inside her.

While it might not be this time, Zosime felt certain that soon she would not only be his queen but the mother to their offspring. Everything that had happened now seemed so right. She had clearly been chosen to initiate a dynasty stronger; better than any human one. As Krios slid off her and lay beside her on the grass staring up into the cloudless sky, Zosime felt certain that this day she had begun to fill her destiny. Not only would she remain on Tavrokranos forever more, it would be here that her minotaur children would run and play and here that her kind would reign.

THE END.