Ariadne(24)

‘But Aegeus was right!’ Phaedra’s voice was earnest, breaking through whatever it was that held Theseus to me in that moment. ‘You should have raised an army! Far better to wait until you could win and save them all, rather than die now in the place of just one!’

She had not understood. She did not know why he had come; she believed it to be a noble gesture but a futile one. I almost laughed. Having heard his story, she still believed that Theseus could walk into that Labyrinth and not return.

‘Phaedra,’ he said to her, a hint of warmth and humour in his voice now. No icy glare for her. ‘You amaze me with your boldness. Already, you have achieved great feats that belie your age and your sex.’ He inclined his head towards the club she had brought back to him. ‘But what lies ahead of me, little Princess, is too dangerous even for you to risk. I thank you for what you have done tonight. I owe you more than I can say and I give you my word that I will repay that debt a thousand times. But I must ask one more favour of you, lovely Phaedra, and that is that you go now back to your bed and you do not breathe a word of this to anyone.’

His words and his warm tone thrilled her, I could see, but he had taken the wrong tack with my younger sister. ‘Back to bed?’ she sputtered, incredulous. ‘I followed you to help you to escape; Ariadne and I will guide you to your ship so that you can sail back to Athens and bring your army! That’s the plan, is it not? That is why Ariadne brought you here?’

‘Princess, I think you do not know what armies do,’ Theseus said. ‘You would not wish for one at your shores if you did. I do not bring war to Crete. I have come to walk with my brothers and sisters into the lair of the Minotaur; such is my duty as the heir to Athens’ throne.’

‘How will your bones, crunched and scattered across the Labyrinth floor, sit upon a throne?’ she demanded. I flinched at the image, but she was fearless. ‘What good will your company do when all of you are devoured by that monster?’

Asterion, I wanted to correct her. But she had the right of it; he was no shining star. He was a brutish monster and she was right not to cloud her vision with memories of our mother cradling him as he slept and the raspy lick of his infant tongue. She was free to stride ahead, determined.

Theseus continued to smile. Her defiance did not seem to offend him. ‘I assure you, Princess, it will not come to that. But I cannot tell you more; I would not risk you. You must remain innocent of it all.’

‘What about Ariadne?’ Phaedra shrilled. ‘She cannot lie to our father. I could keep a secret if wild horses were wrenching me apart like Sinis’ pine trees. But Ariadne will crumble the moment she is asked! Why would you not send her away?’

‘Ariadne will not be here to be asked,’ Theseus said.

Phaedra stilled. ‘Why not?’

Theseus glanced at me. I heard Daedalus’ words clear as a bell and I knew that he thought them, too. ‘Ariadne will be with me,’ he said evenly. ‘She has risked herself too much already in freeing me tonight. She cannot stay.’

Phaedra gasped. ‘And I can? Without Ariadne? You would . . . she would . . .’ She looked from me to Theseus and back again, panicked. ‘I cannot stay without her!’ The urgency in her voice was undeniable.

Theseus was about to speak, but I placed a hand on his arm and he stopped abruptly. ‘She’s right,’ I told him softly. ‘She can’t stay here any more than I can.’ I took a hard breath. ‘When you kill the Minotaur tomorrow—’ At this, Phaedra gasped. I carried on, the words coming from some place within me I had not known before tonight. ‘Minos will suspect she knows something when I am gone. We have to take her with us.’ Where I was proposing we went, I couldn’t say. Theseus and I had not spoken our plans aloud. I had not known, for certain, until this moment that he meant to take me with him, though I knew I would have to go. And in what capacity did I leave with him? I wondered. His hostage? His accomplice? His wife?

Theseus sighed. ‘Ariadne, I will not deny a request from you. She must not come near the Labyrinth. You will be outside the door. When I have finished with the beast, I will guide the hostages out and you and I will run with them to my ship. Phaedra must be there already, waiting for us.’

She stiffened, her little fist clenched in victory and her eyes luminous. ‘I will be there,’ she said.

‘My men have sailed but a short distance away,’ he told us. ‘The black sails disappeared from Cretan view, but my men are ready to row back when darkness falls again tomorrow. They will be waiting for me at a small cove, just east of here, and will take us out to where the ship hides. We will have sailed before any alarm is given. When the palace awakens the next morning and Minos discovers what has happened, we will be far beyond his reach.’

Phaedra listened intently as Theseus gave her directions to the cove, but my mind was far adrift, out on the wine-dark waves that would carry me away from here tomorrow. I was startled back by the pressure of Phaedra’s hand squeezing mine. ‘I will see you in the morning, sister,’ she was whispering, her eyes like stars, and then she was gone, her dress fluttering in the breeze behind her as she ran back towards the palace.

She was gone, as abruptly as she had arrived, and Theseus and I were alone again together.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I didn’t know she would follow us, I didn’t realise—’