Free The White Bull by Fred Saberhagen Page A

mysterious and no doubt tremendous power. I had seen the strength of Talus, far more than human, employed in lifting some of the huge stones of the Labyrinth into place.
    And it was very likely, I thought, that the king, afraid, did not want to admit his own fear even to himself.
    The Bull considered the idea of the king's displeasure, and appeared to be able to accept it with serenity. "In time Min-os will un-der-stand what great trea-sures I have brought him. But up-on what er-rand did he send you to-day?"
    "Certainly it was not to renew old arguments." Trying to make myself relax, I sat down on the edge of the dais. Turning my head, I spat into the White Bull's moat, then watched critically as the spittle along with an infusion of raindrops was borne along slowly but steadily toward the drain. I was, and am still, proud of all my constructions—yes, even the Labyrinth—and I like to see that they are working properly.
    Turning back to face the Bull, I said: "Among today's fresh crop of Athenians is one young man whose coming here to the school poses problems for us all."
    Briefly I went on to identify Theseus, and to outline the concern felt by Minos for his somewhat shaky alliance with Aegeus. "And the young man is probably here at least in part because his father wants him kept out of possible intrigues at home. Not that Minos said anything of the kind to me; but I thought I could hear it between the words of what he said."
    "I think I un-der-stand, Dae-dal-us. Yet I can but en-roll this prince of Ath-ens with o-thers in the school, and then try to im-part know-ledge to him. If he can-not or will not learn, he must go to the rem-ed-i-al class, or be ex-pelled if all else fails. I can-not cer-ti-fy that he has learned if he has not; he is a prince, not of a dis-ad-van-taged race or class."
    "In this case, surely, an exception might be made." Even as I spoke, I detested the pleading tone that I could hear in my own voice.
    We argued this point for a while, I getting nowhere. Then something occurred that I might have foreseen, but did not. The White Bull suddenly offered that something might be done to make Prince Theseus's way easier, if I myself were to enroll as a student again.
    On hearing this I was suddenly angry, probably at my own failure to anticipate this development. I said: "Minos will really be displeased with you if I bear back the message that you want me to spend my next four years studying rather than working for my king."
    "As I am sure you re-mem-ber, Dae-dal-us, we solved that prob-lem at the time of your last en-roll-ment. You will be a part time stu-dent. Even so, one with a mind like yours may learn in three years what a mere-ly ex-cell-ent student learns in four."
    That, I supposed, might be true enough. Silently I hopped down off the dais and stood in the moat, oblivious to the water curling about my ankles. Trying to think of a way out, I paced a few steps this way and that, meanwhile avoiding looking at the Bull. At last I came to a stop and stood there, silent, holding in, like bronze Talus, like an old soldier at attention, staring at a wall, at the temptation of knowledge that might lie behind it.
    "Why do you al-ways re-sist me, Dae-dal-us? Not really be-cause you fear your mind will crack be-neath the bur-den of my teach-ing. Not many even of the poor-er stu-dents have that hap-pen."
    Gradually I was able to relax somewhat. The wisdom born of experience came to my aid, assuring me that going to school again was not likely to be fatal. I sat down on the fine stone pavement, beside the chuckling moat. Eventually I was even able to smile myself.
    "As I may have already told you, oh great White Bull, whenever I see someone approaching to do me a favor—be it man or woman, god or goddess—I generally do myself a favor first and turn around and flee in the other direction. Through experience I have acquired this habit, and it lies near the root of whatever modest stock of wisdom I may