Twisted Mythology: Ariadne

by Ashleigh Matthews

  “Please do not be alarmed, honored guests,” she said after stepping into the courtyard. “These are the guards my father chose to be your escorts while you are off the shrine grounds. They will be stationed outside the main doors during your stay.” She tried to give them a reassuring smile. “If you would please follow me, the King grows impatient,”

  With no more encouraging words, Ariadne walked past the Athenians and led them back through the shrine. A chorus of footsteps and swords tapping against armor followed her. Outside the shrine, they were greeted by a crowd of citizens, male and female, young and old. In their eyes, she could read their appreciation that it would not be one of them who would be fed to the Minotaur. If they obeyed their King’s laws and honored the gods, they would never know the inside of the Labyrinth. Minos had a steady stream of other polis’ who paid a tribute in youths destined to become her half-brother’s next meal along with a staggering number of criminals from across Crete and slaves from across Hellas. The monster would never grow hungry. But the possibility still loomed over them, and Ariadne knew they lived with fear daily.

  Chapter 3

  The King and his court came to their feet upon the arrival of the Athenian tributes. They were given no applause; instead they were greeted with silence. Every conversation ceased upon the herald bellowing out their names. As she guided them to an empty table near the center of the hall, not even a whisper from the court reached her ears. All the tributes were greeted in this fashion. Minos had explained to her that he did not want the tributes to feel mocked. They were already terrified, and he had no wish to add to their fears.

  Ariadne saw them installed at their table and their plates and goblets filled before she joined her parents at the high table. She stood next to her mother and listened to her father recite the history of the war between Athens and Crete. She watched the tributes as the King’s voice carried across the great hall. Only Theseus seemed to be listening intently; he seemed to study every word. At the end of her father’s speech, she almost expected to hear the Athenian shout that Minos had spouted out a list of lies. Tributes were known to do it, if not at this feast but while they waited to meet the monster. Yet Theseus breathed no one contradicting word, despite the moment of silence the King gave him and his companions to object. When it became clear the Athenians would not give the court a show, her father commanded his guests and his court to enjoy the feast.

  After a few moments, Minos turned to her and asked, “What are your initial thoughts on this batch of tributes?”

  She smiled. “All but one seem afraid. The one called Theseus has the look of one who dare to try his luck at escape.” She recounted her observations to her father along with the Athenian’s request to train with a weapon’s master. “Perhaps wooden weapons can be delivered to them and they can practice amongst themselves.”

  Her father chuckled. “At least one tribute from every group can be persuaded to switch their allegiances in lieu of meeting the monster. I can always use another soldier.” He paused to sample the wine. “Make friends with the tributes. See if any of them know what this Theseus is planning.”

  “It will be my pleasure, my lord,” she replied.

  Near the midnight hour, when the court spent more time yawning than eating and chatting amongst themselves, she escorted the tributes back to the shrine. She saw the maidens delivered safely to their rooms before retiring to her own. The servants helped her into her nightclothes even as they tried not to yawn in her presence. Ariadne would have liked to give them some reward for their hard work but until the last tribute was sent into the Labyrinth, they all would be closely watched. There were be time for rest later, she knew. She crawled into bed, falling asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

  Her dreams that night took her to Naxos, to the camp of the new god, Dionysus. Night had made it difficult to see despite several fires scattered around the site. The Maenads, the women who followed the god, danced around several fires to the music played by the satyrs. Laughter and shouting echoed above the music. Ariadne wanted to join them, she wanted to dance alongside them, and follow the god as he toured the world spreading his cult. What would she give to be one of them? Her vision shifted to the sole fire without Maenads dancing. Two figures could be seen around the fire. One was a satyr passed out with a large wine flask still in his hands. The other was a man dressed in a robe of deep purple and a crown of ivy on his head. This had to be Dionysus!

  The stories she had head of this new god spoke of a merry god, but now he looked anything but happy. He looked as though he had just worst news a person had ever gotten. Ariadne felt her heart sink at the sight. He looked in need of consoling. It should be her brightening his evening. She was certain she could bring a smile to his face given the chance. But how could she get to Naxos? Despite the freedom she had, she was still closely watched, and her duties would go undone if she abandoned Crete. What would become of the monster if she followed her heart to Naxos and Dionysus?

  A servant pressing a hand into her shoulder brought Ariadne awake. She opened her eyes to see the taller of the two servants smiling down at her. She pushed herself into a sitting position when the servant let go of her. The woman quickly helped her to her feet and into a clean dress.

  “Where would you like to take your morning meal this day, my lady?” the woman asked as she combed the knots out of Ariadne’s hair. “Privately or with the King’s guests?”

  “With my father’s guests,” she replied.

  If she were to discover what the tributes knew of Theseus’ plans, it would be best to get them to like her. They would tell her nothing if they did not think her a friend. Showing them the weaving on her loom crossed her thoughts, but she had yet to finish her latest project. She doubted she would earn their trust if they saw a weaving of a tribute being sent down to the Minotaur. Perhaps she could ask for a second loom to be set up in the shrine. Could she hope that her father would approve the request this time?

  “Any other news to report?” she asked.

  “Seven wooden swords have been delivered to the shrine,” the servant told her. “A guard delivered them to the courtyard only moments before I came to your side.”

  Theseus would be pleased to hear that his request had been fulfilled in part, Ariadne was certain. With her hair properly fixed for the day, she excused the servant and found her way to the dormitory. Several but not all the tributes had come down to the main floor, Theseus among them. He stood near the rear wall where he could see anyone who walked inside or down the staircase. The other tributes stayed away from him. Were they more scared of this youth than of the Minotaur?

  Ariadne took a seat at a table where three maidens had gathered. She smiled at them as she reminded them of her name. They whispered their own to her under the glare of Theseus. A few moments later, the servants arrived with platters of food and drink, and as the last platter was set on the table closest to where Theseus stood, the remaining tributes drifted down the stairs to join the rest. Theseus did not join them and when she could eat and drink no more, she came to the youth’s side.

  “My father refused to send over a tutor to instruct you with weapons,” she said, loud enough to be heard across the room, “but he did have wooden swords sent over so you may practice amongst yourselves.”

  The tall Athenian youth nodded. “I suspected I was asking much but this courtesy is appreciated.”

  She smiled, watching the youths rise from their seats and make the short journey to the courtyard. Theseus followed behind them, weaving in between tables to grab the bits of uneaten food that had been left behind. Ariadne approached the maidens she had not spoken with upon her arrival and introduced herself once more. They murmured their names under their breaths.

  She sighed. Never before had she been required to make friends. She grabbed a chair the youths had vacated and sat down close to the maidens. How could she possibly get these maidens to like her? Not knowing where to start, she decided to recite what s
he remembered of the last new tale she had heard regarding Dionysus. The longer she spoke, the closer the maidens came, until they made a circle around her.

  “Thetis, I understand, hosted Dionysus after he was forced to flee,” she said to conclude her story.

  “I’ve heard this tale before,” one admitted, “but I never heard if he ever went back to seek his revenge.”

  “Nor have I,” Ariadne told them. “Perhaps there is a tale about this new god that I have not heard before that you might be able to tell me.”

  They grinned. “Has anyone told you the story of his abduction by pirates?” Her eyes lit up. A tale she had not heard before! The maidens giggled and then spent a few moments arguing who would get to tell their host the tale.

  A moment later, a girl said, “Well, it is well known that Dionysus is a handsome sight to see, and that by the way he dresses, he might be the son of some mortal king. He found himself alone on a beach, and growing tired, he decided to take a nap. While he slept, a pirate ship came ashore, its crew in search of treasure or a pretty maiden to make off with. They found little, if I recall the story well enough, but as they crossed the beach back to their boat, they caught sight of Dionysus sleeping. Thinking him a prince, they carried him to their boat. They spoke of a ransom they would get from his kingly sire.

  “Only one of the pirates, the helmsman, had not gone ashore with the others, and when he saw his fellow sailors tie this handsome youth to one of the masts, he grew fearful. He might be a god, the helmsman told them. But the captain mocked him for his cowardice. He ordered the crew to set sail. Far out to sea, Dionysus woke up and begged to be let go, saying that he was a god. The pirates laughed and kept sailing.

  “But suddenly, and despite the winds, the boat refused to budge. The sails bled wine and the god himself grew in size, almost filling the boat. Some say the roars of leopards and tigers could be heard, that the shadows of these beasts could be seen on the sails. Out of fear, the pirates jumped overboard, save for the captain and the helmsman. The captain, it is said, got eaten alive by a leopard. The helmsman was rewarded for his loyalty. I hear he travels with Dionysus no matter where the god goes.”

  “What of the pirates who jumped ship?” Ariadne drowned. “Did they drown?”

  The maiden shook her head. “They were turned into a gray fishlike creature who can often be seen accompanying ships and boats at sea.” She leaned in, a smile on her lips. “I think I may have seen one swimming alongside our boat on the voyage here.”

  Ariadne smiled. Now, more than ever, she wanted to join this god and be one with the Maenads. She just needed to figure out how.

  Chapter 4

  Ariadne spent the first few days staying close to the maidens, hearing every new tale they had to recite to her about Dionysus. Many were just variations on the ones she had already heard, but the more often these stories were told, the more she wished to join Dionysus. She imagined the god making his way to Crete with his followers; it would be the easiest way for her to be able to run away with him when he eventually moved on. It also seemed the most practical, but also the most unlikely. There had to be another way but her mind could not grasp at it, not with her other duties occupying so much of her time.

  She still had to maintain the shrine and be a hospitable host to all the tributes, while trying to deduce what plans of escape Theseus might be making. She had to consider she might have imagined the Athenian youth was plotting something when he was simply trying to look out for the others. Whether or not it was in her head, her father had given her orders, and she would obey them to her dying breath should it come to that. The maidens soon took over the cleaning of the dormitory. They seemed to enjoy it, and it gave her the opportunity to follow Theseus as he made an excursion to the palace. She kept a respectful distance, staying close enough to be able to see him yet far enough that she could not hear what he had to say to the members of her father’s court. She gathered by their gestures that he was asking for directions, to where she would soon learn.

  Daedalus, her father’s architect, kept workrooms at the far end of the palace. Rumors said he kept his plans for the Labyrinth hidden away inside. Others whispered that the plans had been burned once the maze had been completed. Whatever the truth was, Theseus would never learned it no matter how persuasive his tongue could be. Ariadne hid a smile as she watched Athenian slip inside the workroom with his guard at his heels. A moment later, she seated herself on a stool just outside. Theseus did intend the monster harm, after all. She would have to tell the King, but in good time. She would see what she could learn to be able to give the King as much information as possible.

  An hour later, Theseus emerged, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. He would draw blood soon if he did not stop and he seemed to have little intention to do so. He whispered something under his breath that she could imagine was either a curse or some obscenities. She smiled and came to her feet. With slow steps, she came around to where her father’s guest could see her. He jumped at the sight of her and failed to return her smile. The guard retreated to a respectful distance so not to hear their conversation.

  Ariadne chuckled. “I could have saved you a trip, Theseus of Athens. Plus your anger would not be getting the best of you now. If you would have come to me, I would have told you that Daedalus had sorcery performed on him so that he would not be able to tell you or anyone else how to get in and out of the Labyrinth.”

  “And have you walk straight to the King?” he asked.

  She laughed again. “He already suspects you of planning something. He thinks you are plotting escape, and he will until I say otherwise.” His eyes widened and his lips parted slightly. Her grin grew. Let the Athenian think he had just made an ally. “Come, the noon hour is nearly upon us. I have no doubt my servants are carrying platters of food to the shrine as we speak.”

  Theseus closed his mouth and gave her a respectful bow. He stayed two paces behind her as he followed her through the place back to the shrine. She spotted her servants taking the path between the shrine itself and the dormitory. The other tributes had started gathering inside by the time she arrived with Theseus on her heel.

  In the following days, he began spending time in her company. At first he paid her compliments on how she continued to make him and his fellow Athenians welcome. Even the most trivial thing did not go unmentioned. He moved on her beauty next, beginning with her “stunning” black hair. She tried to pretend as though she had heard such pleasantries regularly. She knew his words to be lies; he had no affection for her at all. Did he think that she had not seen him only the day before making one of the maidens blush with his sweet words whispered into her ear? He was trying to win her over, or perhaps he thought he already had. While the other youths continued their training in the courtyard, Theseus found excuses to be by her side, even when she found a moment to continue her weaving.

  “Is this what I can expect to find in the Labyrinth?” he asked her one day, a smile on his lips.

  She returned the grin. “Would I let you see it if it did?” she returned.

  Theseus chuckled. “Someday, Princess, someone will learn the secrets of the Labyrinth and put an end to your father’s monster. Is it beyond your imagination that I dream of being that hero? I could be with your help. All I need is for someone Daedalus trusts to learn the way. I would hope it might be you.” With the grin on his face growing larger, he caressed her arm with his forefinger. Ariadne pretended it was Dionysus’ finger instead. “I would take you back to Athens with me, make you my wife. My father is a powerful man back home.”

  She wondered if he had made these same promises to the maiden, that she would become his bride if she could only convince Ariadne to give her the information he needed to kill the monster. He must be truly stupid. Ariadne pushed his hand away and continued to add to her weaving. It would be such a shame to leave it unfinished. She truly enjoyed weaving, even on the days it felt like just another chore to be done and when her body
ached so badly that she could barely stand on her own. Her mind could be far away from Crete or close by. A grin forced the edges of her lips to curl up. Naxos was Crete’s closest neighbor and her father’s advisors still claimed that Dionysus lingered there.

  “Is that smile for me?” Theseus asked, pulling her out of her dreams even before they started.

  She let her smile broaden as she turned towards the Athenian youth. She wanted nothing more than to drop her shuttle and bloody his lip with a well-placed punch. Reason and her father’s orders kept her hands steady and her mind focused on learning whatever Theseus had planned. “If you want it to be,” she replied in the most pleasant voice she could muster. The Athenian laughed at her words. He watched for a few minutes more until the other youths begged him to join them in the courtyard.

  “Go, Theseus of Athens,” she encouraged. “I have duties to perform that would be best done without a shadow. Put some more meat on your bones for the monster.”

  Despite her words, it still took him a moment to drag himself away. Ariadne turned to watch him leave, and as soon as he vanished through the door, she let out a sigh. He had been like a child following its mother around, truth be told. She found herself less productive in his company. She would have had more rows in her tapestry without his unwelcome flattery. Her shoulders sagged as she turned back towards her loom. She had chores to complete before the evening meal. Reluctantly she abandoned her weaving and joined her servants in their apartments to change the bed linens and dust.

  She oversaw the delivery of food and drink to the tributes before excusing herself to join her mother and sisters. They had already started to eat by the time she arrived, and she came right in the middle of her sisters recounting what duties they had performed on behalf of their mother that day. Ariadne listened in silence, as she always did, nor was she asked to give an accounting of her day. She never did when there were tributes in residence. After her sisters finished their meal, her mother dismissed them. Only when her sisters had left the room did her mother speak again.