Ariadne(30)

Theseus leapt lightly down on to the deck. The black sails billowed and rippled in the breeze. The men moved in a blur of practised activity, each one performing his own task, and all of them working together as one. The wooden deck shifted beneath us as the ship began to glide through the waves.

Theseus came towards me. His arms were around me again, this time with tenderness. I leaned against the hard bulk of his body.

‘Come,’ he said gently. ‘Your dress is soaked. I have not rescued you from Crete to lose you to a chill.’ He led me across the deck, towards stairs that led below.

I followed. A curious calm was settling upon me now. What was done was done. I thought I was beyond surprise now, but I gasped when I saw the piles of treasure glinting at the foot of the stairs. Treasure that I recognised. Gems, ropes of pearls, ornately patterned swords and rich fabrics were thrown carelessly in heaps. Everywhere I looked, I saw the labrys – carved into pommels, stitched on to cloths, engraved and embroidered upon everything. Whilst Theseus fought in the Labyrinth, his men must have raided the palace.

‘I am sure you can find something dry,’ he said and courteously withdrew.

I gaped at the plunder around me and thought of Minos’ rage at this insult on top of everything else. I reached out and stroked the rich fabric of a gown that had once belonged to Pasiphae, though she had not worn it for many years now. It would be nice, I thought, to have some reminders of home with me. Daedalus’ pendant glimmered still at my throat; I had thought that was the only part of Crete I would be bringing. I picked up Pasiphae’s robe, the heavy fabric slipping between my fingers. My mother had always glowed radiantly in this dark red dress, I remembered. I wondered if I would as well.

*

We watched the ocean stretch out behind us from the deck of the ship, Theseus and I. We hardly spoke, but I felt the comfort of his solid presence as we sailed through the night. My eyes grew heavy at times, but he remained watchful and waiting. It was not until the dawn burned a thin line of pink at the distant edge of the sky that we saw land. Naxos loomed before us, rolling mountains dark against the rosy skies. I had never left Crete before and I leaned over the side of the boat, eager to get a glimpse of the world beyond my home. There was a bustle of activity all around the ship, but I was entranced watching Naxos take shape and before I knew it, we were back in the rowing boats, Theseus pulling us to the little bay.

As I stepped on to the golden sands of Naxos, the strangeness of the events of the past two days numbed my mind to shock or worry or fear. Instead, I felt like I drifted over that beach, barely touching the ground, my mind full of clouds. I saw that the island was beautiful – the water sparkled in the shallow cove and the mountains stretched around us companionably. The scorched brown scrub was dotted here and there with squat trees that stretched out friendly branches offering shade to parched travellers.

I wondered where we would seek shelter and rest. There was no sign of life anywhere that I could see. ‘Do you know this place?’ I asked. ‘Do you have friends here who will give us sanctuary?’

Theseus laughed as he grasped my hand firmly and led me over the beach. ‘No one lives here,’ he said. ‘We stopped here on our way to Crete. We knew that we would need somewhere to rest when we escaped and we wanted to scour the island for dangers so that we would know if it was safe.’

He walked rapidly, with intent and purpose. I struggled to keep up with him, my feet sinking into the soft sand. I could not emulate his long, light strides. ‘Is it safe?’ I asked.

‘No beasts troubled us and no brigands either,’ he replied. ‘It seems that the island is empty now.’

‘Now?’ The sun was beating down on me and I felt dizzy.

‘It seems there was somebody here, once,’ he said. ‘But they are long gone now and the island belongs to us alone.’ He glanced at me. ‘It is not much further,’ he said, his tone softening. ‘And we will be safe here. I will keep you safe.’

I wrapped his words around me as we walked, taking comfort in his simple and direct way of saying things. The enormity of what I had done was coming to me in flashes. My home was gone; I could never return. My family was gone; they would never acknowledge me again. I knew it to be so, but I could not feel it to be true except in these sudden bursts of realisation. The light of that strange, unthinkable truth would dazzle me for a moment and then it would be gone again, a fleeting sense of terrible loss.

I was wrestling with my disordered thoughts when I realised that we had stopped walking and I could feel Theseus’ eyes upon me. I looked up, wondering why we had stopped. We were in front of a house, small in size and built of simple stone but pleasant looking. ‘I thought you said the island was empty?’

Theseus was smiling. ‘For a long time,’ he agreed. He pushed the door and gestured for me to enter.

Inside, the air was musty, tickling the back of my throat.

‘I think it must have been a home built by a god,’ Theseus said, leading me through the shadows.

We were in a long kitchen and I reached out a hand to trace a finger through the fine layer of dust that had accumulated on the large oak table in the centre. The motes danced up at the touch of my hand, spiralling in the soft grey light.

‘A god?’ I questioned. ‘Here, in such a humble abode?’ I laughed a little. Gods dwelt in marble palaces, drank from golden goblets and reclined on sumptuous couches. They didn’t live in stone cottages on lonely islands.