The Reign of Wizardry by Jack Williamson Read Free Book Online Page A

“I shalltake you to Crete aboard my own galley. And there is a wizard in Ekoros who has certain things to hide. For a few talents of silver—and to save his cowardly life—he will turn you into a black Nubian. I shall send the Nubian to Minos from my slave pens, a gift for the games. And the Nubian—unless the warlocks have lied—willwin.”
    “But how,” demanded Theseus, “do you make any money out of that?”
    The small black eyes of Amur shone hungrily. “The Minoan games are divided into nine contests,” his swift whisper rasped. “One for each year of the cycle. You must face three wild bulls, three fighting men, and three gods. And it is a custom of the nobles and the merchants of Crete to place wagers on each contest.”
    Amurlaced gold-ringed fingers across his belly. “How an unarmed man can win those nine contests, I don’t know. That is your problem. But Minos must believe you can. And my black Nubian will win all that is wagered that day!”
    Theseus turned slowly from Amur to Phaistro. The purple-robed admiral had been looking on, silently. His thin face seemed pale, tortured.
    “What do you say of this, admiral?”demanded Theseus. “Minos has ordered you to kill me.”
    Amur laid a cold hand on the arm of Theseus, and rasped an answer for the admiral: “He will do as I request, Captain Firebrand. I am no warlock, yet even I possess a certain power. The noble Phaistro will do whatever I ask, even if I require him to cut off his hand. Is that not true, admiral?”
    The red lips of Phaistro trembled, and he noddedunhappily.
    The cold, bright snake-eyes of Amur came back to Theseus. “You see, Captain Firebrand, my scheme has neglected nothing. Now give up your sword to the admiral, and come aboard my galley—and soon you will be mounting the gilded throne of Minos!”
    Theseus reached for the hilt of the Falling Star. He drew the long blade from its sheath, and looked down into the gleaming mirror of its polish,and saw there the sad face of his father.
    It was on that solemn night, many years ago, when proud Athens had bowed at last to the ships and the wizardry of Knossos. His father, the Achean king, was wearily pacing hislong stone-flagged hall in the simple palace upon the Acropolis. Faintly they could hear the women, in their quarters, wailing for the men who had died that day.
    Theseus followedthe tired limping steps of Aegeus. “I know you had to yield, father,” he said. “I saw the blue shining bolts that struck down your captains. I know your men fled from the sorcery of Crete. The truce saved Athens from being burned, saved your people from being carried off to feed the evil god of Knossos.
    “But I am not going to give up, father!”
    The wounded king paused and looked down at him.“But you … you are only a slip of a lad, Theseus—you can’t well defy an empire whose ruler is a god.”
    “Yes, I can, father. I am going away tonight, toward the far lands that are still free from Crete. I shall train myself to be brave and strong, and grow up to be a fighting man. And I shall make war on Minos, so long as I live!”
    A smile came to the king’s haggard face. “I am glad, my son,” Aegeussaid softly. “You have made me happy again. And I shall give you my sword to carry with you—if you are strong enough to lift the stone where it is hidden from the Cretans.”
    The king limped to point out the heavy flagstone. Theseus eagerly caught the edges of it, and pried and strained until at last it turned over. His father took up the sword, and gave it to him, and he admired the bright colorof its steel.
    “It is named the Falling Star,” the king told him, “because its strange bright metal fell from the sky. The lame smith who forged it was a very wise man, and he hammered a simple spell into the blade.
    “It will guard the freedom of the Greeks, the smith promised me; hew their way to greatness. But it must never be surrendered. For the man who gives it up, yields also his