We found Sciron’s treasure—including my own equipment—after a thorough search of the area. Hidden further back in the forest behind the cliff was a large stone house disguised by tree branches stacked against it. If we hadn’t suspected that Sciron had a stockpile somewhere, we would’ve never found it.
I later discovered that Sciron was quite an infamous brigand, wanted in Athens and other cities for his crimes. He’d been operating his scheme for years but had never been found, moving every few months to avoid detection, presumably leaving his treasure unguarded or perhaps under the protection of the giant turtle that dwelt at the bottom of the cliffs. Maybe the turtle followed Sciron about given that he was a source of constant fresh meat?
Theseus smiled smugly at me when he heard that Sciron was a wanted criminal. Eventually, word also spread that Theseus had done the bandit in, thus further enhancing his reputation.
I had originally thought that it would take me at least a couple of years to gather the wealth and prestige I needed to return to Crete. I had a vague idea that I would use the money to buy a small ship, approach Crete by night, and rescue Phaedra. I would then set myself and her up on an island far away from Minos.
Sciron’s wealth filled me with hope. I would be able to return far sooner than expected. Theseus and I would arrive in Athens rich men indeed.
I also began to reconsider my feelings toward Theseus. He was what he was. He wasn’t an evil man; he just had a slightly warped sense of justice. He hated bandits, outlaws, and brigands with a vengeance and was determined to punish them using their own instruments of death. He thought it rather fitting. I considered it a little barbaric.
I longed to reach Athens by now. I’d had my fill of adventures for the moment and wanted nothing more than to spend a few uneventful weeks in that city without being surrounded by death.
We set off again. Night was beginning to fall when we came across a house built of rough-cut blocks standing by the side of the road. We were tired, having made good progress that day. We guessed, correctly, that we would reach Athens after another day’s travel.
It was a little cold that night. Both Theseus and I didn’t relish another night out in the open, especially when we were so close to Athens. We were about to knock on the door of the house, willing to spend some of our wealth on a bed and hot food for the night, when the door opened, seemingly of its own accord.
A man stood there, small, wizened. He had a gray wispy beard with hair that matched. He squinted heavily at us.
“Hello,” he croaked, his voice dry as a sun dried leaf. “Do you seek a bed for the night?”
Theseus and I looked at each other. I knew what Theseus was thinking. This old, shriveled man couldn’t possibly offer us any threat.
“We do indeed,” said Theseus. “A bed, a hot meal, maybe a goblet of watered wine by the fire. We’ll be on our way come sunrise and can pay with good honest coin.”
“Enter and be welcome,” he said, standing to one side to let us pass. He smiled a toothless smile. We found ourselves in a square room, furnished simply with an old wooden table and four chairs. Another couple of chairs were being warmed by the fire, which blazed invitingly. I wanted nothing more than to go and rest my weary legs beside that warmth.
“Take a seat, gentleman,” said the old man, indicating the chairs by the fire. “Supper is not far away. I hope you like soup. It’s the only thing that I eat these days without my teeth. Fortunately, I always make more than I need. Old habits.”
Theseus and I made ourselves comfortable. My chair creaked alarmingly as it took my weight. Fortunately, it didn’t break.
“Your name, sir?” asked Theseus. He took off his sandals and wiggled his toes closer to the fire.
“Procrustes,” said the old fellow, bustling around his tiny kitchen adjacent to where we sat.
“I am Theseus. This is Asterion.”
“And where do you venture?” he asked, shuffling over with two wooden bowls that he set in our laps. He handed each of us a wooden ladle.
“Athens is our goal,” said Theseus. I had begun to notice that Theseus always took the lead in conversations, relegating myself to the background where I said little or nothing. Not that I minded, but I found it interesting that Theseus had begun speaking for me. His pride ensured that he would always take the role of leader. It made sense. Most people addressed Theseus instead of me. I guessed it was partially due to my fearsome appearance. Then again, Theseus was much fairer to look upon and much more charming. I have noticed over the years that it is often the most handsome or beautiful individuals that get all the attention, even if they are as dull as a mud stained rock. I understand that. It is human nature.
“Athens, yes. Lovely place that,” said Procrustes. “I once lived there.”
As we ate, Procrustes told us about the life he once lived. He had moved out to the countryside once his wife died and his children had left home, preferring the quiet and isolation to the bustle and noise of city life. I joined in the conversation where I could.
Procrustes asked us many questions. He was particularly interested in my horned helmet and asked where I’d gotten it. I told him the same story I’d told Theseus.
The soup was unremarkable, but he served it with rough bread, which we used to mop up the juices puddling the bottom of our bowls. After dinner, he brought us a large goblet of watered wine each.
“A toast,” declared Procrustes. “To adventures and long life.” We touched goblets and drank.
It was an enjoyable evening. Procrustes was a fine host, eagerly replenishing our goblets as soon as they were empty. Theseus and I thought nothing of it given that Procrustes was clearly not a threat.
I assumed it was the wine making me tired. I felt groggy and a little dizzy. Looking over at Theseus, I could see he was also suffering. His eyes were bleary and he swayed slightly in his seat.
Procrustes looked at us both and smiled, his gums gleaming in the firelight. “I believe it is time for you young heroes to take to your beds.”
Theseus and I were in no position to disagree. Wordlessly, we followed him to an adjoining room. Inside were two beds.
“You are fortunate, young warriors. I had these beds specially made for my sons.”
“What … what’s so special about them?” Theseus slurred, supporting himself against the doorframe.
"Why, it has the amazing property that its length exactly matches whosoever lies upon it,” said Procrustes. They didn’t look so special to me, but then again it was hard to tell through my blurred vision.
Eagerly, we both lay down. My great size ensured that my feet hung over the end of the bed. Procrustes had been exaggerating, but I was so tired I didn’t care. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was asleep.
Ω
I awoke from a restless sleep filled with faces of the dead. My eyes opened slowly, resentfully. It was still dark, but the gray light of dawn was just starting to peak in through the single window. Time to start the last leg of our journey.
I tried to sit up and failed. It was only then that I realized something was wrong. I found that my hands and feet were securely bound to the posts of the bed. I looked over at Theseus. He was still asleep but was tied in the same way.
“Theseus,” I hissed. “Theseus, wake up!”
Theseus slowly roused, gradually becoming aware of our predicament. His eyes widened in horrified realization. We were trapped. Procrustes must have drugged our wine. Our confidence in our superiority had been our downfall.
Before we could begin to struggle free, Procrustes shuffled into the room.
“Ah, young warriors. I see you’re awake.”
“What is the meaning of this?” demanded Theseus. “Free us immediately!”
Procrustes shook his head and smiled sadly. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I have promised my beds new victims and new victims they must have.”
He was clearly mad. Not that I’m an expert but a
nyone who wants to sacrifice you to a bed can’t be completely sane.
“You are probably wondering about the magical properties of these beds,” he said, insanity sparkling in his eyes. “Their length does indeed exactly match those who lie upon them. Of course, that’s only with some adjustment.”
He looked from me to Theseus. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully when he saw that my feet dangled over the end of the bed. “I think we’ll start with you,” he said, eyeing up Theseus. “Your large friend here presents more of a challenge. Not to mention a mess.”
He retrieved a bronze bar from a darkened recess of the room and inserted it under Theseus’s bed. He then began to wind, singing softly to himself. Procrustes may have been mad but he meant what he said. The bonds on Theseus wrists and ankles began to tighten, trying to stretch Theseus so that he fitted the bed.
Theseus thrashed about wildly, struggling against the inexorable pull of his bonds. It was useless. Procrustes had tied both of us securely. I suspected this wasn’t the first time he’d had visitors. Theseus began to scream as the rack took up the slack. It was muscle, sinew, and flesh against metal. The result was inevitable.
Procrustes was paying me no attention whatsoever. He was grunting and singing with his back to me as he slowly wound.
Desperately, I assessed my situation. I had to save Theseus. Not only that, but I had to save myself. Once Procrustes was finished with Theseus, he would turn his attention on me. I suspected that his solution to my size would be rather simple, hence his reference to mess. In order to make me fit the bed, he would chop off my feet.
During our drugged sleep, Procrustes must have taken off my helm, obviously thinking that my horns would provide me with a weapon during my struggles. I can imagine his surprise when he found that the horns weren’t part of my helmet. But, there was nothing he could do about it. And that gave me an advantage.
While his attention was elsewhere, I twisted my neck. If I could only move my horns into a position where they could saw through the bonds securing my wrists. It was incredibly difficult. The angle was all wrong, but desperation drove me. At last, I moved into a position where my horns could begin to saw through the rope on one of my wrists.
It was desperate, painful work, and I moved with as much haste as I could muster. Sweat began to trickle from my forehead, running into my eyes and ruining my vision. My neck began to seize up. I dared not look at Procrustes for fear of losing contact with the rope. I prayed silently to Poseidon for aid, hoping Procrustes would not glance in my direction.
Perhaps my father heard me. With a last flick of my horns, the rope parted. One of my hands was free! Quickly, I tore the rope from my other hand and sat up. The noise of my struggles had gone unnoticed by Procrustes, who was still busy winding. The screams of Theseus were drowning out all other noise in the room.
I freed my legs. Procrustes must have seen something in Theseus’s eyes as he looked in my direction. The old man turned just in time to see me lurching to my feet. Before he could react, I wrapped my arms around him in a wrestler’s embrace. Surprisingly, he was stronger than his appearance implied and struggled furiously. I had no choice but to tie him up. I could hardly release him while I freed Theseus.
The obvious choice was the bed. Despite his wild struggles, I tied him securely by wrist and ankle. Only then did I turn my attention to Theseus.
“Help me,” said Theseus weakly, his voice hoarse from his screams.
I nodded and swiftly undid his bonds, helping him to stand. I had to steady him but he recovered his strength quickly. He was, after all, a son of a god. Luckily, despite Procrustes best efforts, his limbs had not been pulled out of their sockets.
Eventually, he gently pushed me away, standing without support. He looked down at Procrustes with a blank expression on his face.
Procrustes stopped his struggles to free himself, sensing impending doom. He met Theseus’s stare and flinched with what he saw there.
“You might want to leave,” said Theseus. Even though he wasn’t looking in my direction, I knew he was talking to me.
I also knew what Theseus planned. I had no illusions as to what sort of man Theseus was by now. Although I didn’t agree with his methods, I understood them. There was no sense arguing with him. I suppose I could’ve stopped him, but it was like the incident with Sinis and the pine tree repeating itself. A part of me knew that Procrustes was getting what he deserved. But, then again, he was just an old man. For a moment, I thought about forcing Theseus out of the room, leaving Procrustes tied to the bed, but what then? The next traveler who passed would free him, enabling him to try his evil madness on the next poor unsuspecting adventurer. I also was aware that once Procrustes had finished with Theseus, I would’ve suffered the same fate. Or worse.
I knew that there was no other option. I also knew that I wanted no part in it. Without a backward glance, I left Theseus to his revenge.
Chapter 11
I was sitting down under a tree, far from the stone house of Procrustes but still in view of it, when Theseus finally emerged. At first, I had removed myself just from the house itself, sinking wearily to the stone steps below the door but that wasn’t enough. I could hear Procrustes’s screams like he was next to me.
I was forced to walk several dozen paces before the wind carried the noise of his suffering away from my ears. And there I waited. It seemed like hours, but surely it wasn’t. I doubt even Theseus could’ve been so cruel to extend the suffering of Procrustes that much.
I had our equipment and supplies stacked neatly next to me. I’d found them easily enough. Procrustes had simply placed them on the table in the main room. He probably thought there was no need to hide them. As far as he was concerned, we weren’t going to be in a position to use them again.
Thankfully, my helmet was amongst the pile. After lowering it onto my head, I felt comforted. It’s funny how you can get used to something so unusual. The helmet had become an extension of myself. I felt almost naked without it.
Theseus cast around, looking this way and that before locating me. He strode in my direction. As he got nearer, I saw his eyes. There was death in them.
“Is it done?” I asked. To this day, I don’t know why I asked the question. Perhaps a part of me hoped that maybe Theseus had spared him even though I knew in my heart he hadn’t.
Theseus nodded curtly and began loading himself with weapons and supplies. I noticed that he had another sack, presumably loot taken from Procrustes. More wealth covered with the blood of our victims.
I knew better than to remonstrate with Theseus by now. He did what he thought necessary. For his part, he probably scorned me as a weakling, squeamish, someone unable to do what must be done. Theseus always considered himself a leader of men, a risk taker, a decision maker. Leaders had to make difficult decisions. I guess that’s why I was never cut out to be one.
It took us the whole day to reach Athens.
We said little to each other as we strode on, side by side. Finally, Theseus broke the silence.
“You have horns on your head,” he said, not looking at me. “They’re not part of your helmet as I supposed.”
I nodded, not knowing quite what to say.
“I have heard of such a man. They say he is the son of King Minos of Crete. Others say he is the son of a bull.”
“Theseus,” I said, touching him lightly by the arm, forcing him to stop. “I wanted to tell you, but I foolishly delayed. The King wants me dead. I thought it would be safer for you not to know.”
“They say you are a beast,” said Theseus, looking me in the eye. “That your horns mark you as such.”
“Theseus, I can explain,” I said.
“There is no need,” said Theseus, taking me into his arms. “I recognized my brother straight away. You, like me, are the son of Poseidon. You saved my life. Again. You are not a beast. I name you for what you are. My friend.”
And with that, Theseus and I dealt
with the awkward subject of my horns. It was that easy. Despite everything, Theseus was extremely loyal and forgiving. He never forgot a debt and judged a man on his deeds rather than his appearance. In many ways, Theseus was a good man—a slightly mad one at times, but then again, who am I to judge?
Ω
Night was falling by the time we passed through the city gates, but not before guards challenged us.
“Who are you and what is your business in Athens?” asked their Captain.
“My name is Theseus, Prince of Troezen. I, along with my companion and brother, Asterion, a hero and son of Poseidon, have rid the countryside of bandits and outlaws.”
The Captain and his men seemed surprised and perhaps a little intimidated by this statement. A man with lesser bearing than Theseus may not have been taken at his word. I suspected that if I had spoken instead, we may have been thrown out of the city. As it was, despite his youthful appearance, Theseus was believed, aided by the growing rumors of his deeds that had slowly trickled into the city.
“I have heard of you,” said the Captain. I almost expected him to bow. “Have you some place to stay tonight?”
“No,” said Theseus haughtily. “But we have ample funds. We will find an inn somewhere in the city.”
“No need for that,” said the Captain hastily, eager to please. “You would honor us if you stayed with the city guard tonight. We have good food, soft beds, wine, and a warm fire.”
Theseus nodded. “We accept with pleasure,” he said.
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