Gift to the Gods

Dimitris listened with a panicked mind. He had been summoned to the house by Kyriakos himself. The senator’s courtyards were magnificent and meticulously kept. Dimitris was awed by the archways and hallways he was hurried through by two guards. He could not keep Kyriakos waiting.

Kyriakos sat on a tufted couch and was clearly already intoxicated. Corinna sat on a beautifully hand-carved chair in the background. Dimitris forced himself not to look at her. His anger at her rejection had not yet passed.

“Dimitris, my favorite craftsman.” A cold greeting from the senator, of that Dimitris was certain.

“Tell me, do you work with bronze?”

“Of course.”

Dimitris strained to guess the meaning behind the question. He almost inquired about the senator’s horses, wondering if they needed tending. The leather and buckles, perhaps?

“I want to commission a project.” Kyriakos seemed already bored.

“Of course. What is this project? Am I to work with bronze, then?”

“Yes, bronze. I want you to forge a large bull for me. It must be hollow and able to hold a human in its belly.” Kyriakos paused to sip from his cup.

“It must have a hatch to enter and be lockable from the outside.”

Dimitris felt cold dread creep up his back. He struggled to find a way to ask the question most urgent in his mind. He finally settled on “Is this decorative?” It was the most indirect way he could ask what he feared.

Kyriakos looked at him with dull, cold eyes, not answering.

“I only ask because the final piece will be quite heavy. Will I need to install it somewhere?” Dimitris was sweating and he knew Kyriakos could see the shine on his brow.

“Yes. You will install it in my back garden. Platon will show you where.” Kyriakos gave a dismissive nod to one of the guards. He began to shift but paused and added “You can use one of my bulls for scale. I’ve just received a rather impressive one in taxes.”

Dimitris nodded and backed away humbly.

Dimitris worried about how to pay for the bronze and grew bold enough to ask Platon as they walked away how he was to procure materials in Kyriakos’ name. Platon gave him a cold look, thinking Dimitris an idiot.

“You just tell them to send notice to the senator’s house. His credit is without question.”

“Of course, of course.” Dimitris placated with a low, firm voice. Platon accepted this and showed Dimitris where the bull was to be installed. He told Dimitris to meet him at the spot the next morning to view the bull that was to be his model.

Dimitris rose early, unable to sleep as he debated the true nature of the project. Was this a tribute to the fabled Trojan Horse? A place to put offerings to the gods? Something more nefarious?

The bull was just as impressive as had been portrayed and bore a more than slight resemblance to Platon’s own physique. Its muscles rippled as it wandered to graze. Platon allowed himself a small smile of pride.

“I took him to settle a debt to the senator. He’s going to do a fine job with those cows.”

A small harem of cows were laying in the shade of a tree, enjoying the cool air. Dimitris agreed, complementing Platon’s foresight. He hurried away as soon as was polite to begin his work on the bull.

Dimitris worked diligently. He delighted at being briefly indignant in the senator’s name as he negotiated the price of an awl he would need to create the metal joints of the hatch. He fed his fires and heated the metal until it was molten white and all impurities were purged. Each day he carefully shaped the beast, feeling his pride manifest into the creature. When it was nearly finished, Dimitris hired local workmen to slowly guide the pieces on large carts to Kyriakos’ palace. When he arrived at the spot where it was to be installed, Dimitris set about perfecting his masterpiece.

It was dusk when he finished placing the hatch in position. To his surprise, Kyriakos himself walked through the garden to inspect the finished product. He was accompanied only by Platon.

“This is magnificent,” he praised. His eyes were shiny with drink and it felt like looking into the eyes of a dead thing.

“Show me how it works.”

Dimitris nervously showcased the hinges and the thick ring that allowed the creature to be locked.

“I said show me.” Kyriakos softened his tone slightly. “How do I know a person fits in there if I do not get to see a person in it?”

Silence hung between them. Platon broke the stalemate.

“The senator told you to get inside.”

Dimitris stammered but was interrupted by blinding pain as Platon broke his nose and knocked him to the ground. Dimitris struggled to stay conscious and saw the sandaled foot as it connected with his head.

Dimitris awoke throbbing with pain. He was curled up somewhere small. It was dark and he could hear people laughing. He was in the bull, he knew. There was a scraping sound and something was happening underneath him. He heard Corinna’s voice say “Light it.” Kyriakos laughed as Dimitris’ screams began.