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worst
fears were confirmed when he caught a glimpse of one such figure. These were
men
who until minutes ago had been his comrades, but who now might well have been
ordered to cut him down on sight.
For the moment he was still safe, but he might be discovered at any instant.
If
he simply waited where he was, they were certain to find him sooner or later.
But if he ran on, turning corners at random as before, he might very well run
right into the men who were looking for him.
Near despair, he almost called aloud to the Lord Asterion, and to Prince
Theseus, for help; but with an effort he kept himself from doing that. Even
when
the enemies of the princess caught and tortured him, as now it seemed almost
certain that they would do, he must do his best to keep from naming names.
Fighting to shake off the grip of panic, Alex told himself firmly that it was
possible, even likely, that he was not yet being hunted, or even under
suspicion. Of course people must have seen him running after Theseus, but
that
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could be easily explained as his attempt to catch the fugitive. Other
soldiers
must have gone pounding in pursuit as well. He might, he probably could,
rejoin
his comrades now, assuming he and they could find their way out of the toils
of
the Labyrinth, and perhaps remain free of suspicion.
But meanwhile, every passing minute and hour would see the princess getting
farther and farther away, by means of whatever cleverness Daedalus had chosen
to
employ. And he, Alex, would be able to do nothing at all for her, never see
her
again or have a chance to serve her. Never again would she look at him with
approval; nor would her fingers ever touch his skin, as they had when she
gave
him the medallion though she was unlikely ever to touch him again in any
case.
Ah, if only he could be sure that she was safe!
Restlessly he moved on, and soon began to run again, driven by a sense of
urgency to find the princess. But in a little while he stopped, aware that he
had not the least idea where she was, or where he was headed. Flattening
himself
against the wall, he thought his own gasping breath was so loud that the
sound
of it must betray his presence to any searchers who came near. If only he
could
keep from breathing! But he was likely to reach that state of perfect silence
soon enough.
Now it seemed to Alex that not only soldiers, but also the priests of Shiva,
carrying their instruments of torture, must already be searching for him, and
that the men who sought his life must hear the pulses pounding in his head.
At
any moment they were bound to come upon him; and a few minutes after that, if
he
was lucky, he would be dead.
His mouth was dry, with normal thirst as well as with fear. Too bad that a
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canteen had been no part of this morning's prescribed uniform.
He moved on, still nursing a fading hope to join the princess and her party.
But
gradually it was borne in on him that it probably made no difference whether
he
tried to desert or rejoin his squad; he was now hopelessly lost. Maybe if he
climbed one of these walls, he could at least see where he was, in relation
to
the palace and the city . . . but when he looked up he saw that here the high
walls, difficult enough in themselves, had been topped with a stiff growth of
some mutant thorn. It would be impossible to walk on that.
The sun as it progressed across the sky could give him some clue as to the
points of the compass. But since he did not know in which direction he wanted
to
move, knowing them would be no help.
Once, encountering a cheerful fountain, Alex paused gratefully, long enough
to
plunge his head into the pool at its base, and drink deeply. There was no
telling when he might have another chance.
After resting a few minutes, he felt unable to sit still, and moved on at a
steady walk. Now he had to fight against a helpless feeling much akin to that
of
drowning. For a long time now, he had not had the slightest idea whether or
not
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