Chapter Seven
Chariot Racing and Philosophy
“Through here.” The master of the Minotaurs, still wearing his headpiece, goaded us ahead, up the long sloping ramp. It was so narrow we had to trudge up the incline single-file. The man at the top unlocked the steel-barred door and swung it open. We women winced as the morning sun arrowed into our dark-adapted eyes.
“Out, out!” The door guard growled, slapping the loose coils of his long, braided whip against our asses. The Minotaur had retreated back down into his haunted halls of Hades.
“Move along!” A squad of Greek soldiers closed in behind us and shoved us forward with the length of their spear shafts pressing against the small of our backs. They herded us into a large tent where we sat down on rough wooden benches at long tables. Our b
