Ariadne(33)

I awoke as evening set in. Sand scratched against my face as I sat up; it showered from my hair where I’d cried and it had clumped in the tear-dampened curls. I had a terrible thirst and seized the water cask Theseus’ men had left, slopping it out into the earthen bowl beside and drinking it in great long draughts. Then, abruptly, I stopped. The water, tepid and tasteless as it was, felt so soothing against my parched throat that I wanted to drink and drink. But I couldn’t. I did not know how long I needed this single cask to last. The frantic desperation of the day had deserted me now and the aching hollow it had left made my bones feel like lead and my blood like tar. Would it make any difference if I drank every drop now? If I let it pour into the sand and disappear? It would be gone soon enough – and I would be left to die. Unless . . .

I cast a glance in each direction along the expanse of beach. Theseus had said there were no wild beasts that they had discovered on the island. But I wondered now if I could trust a single word he had said.

I pulled the sheet I wore more tightly around me. What were my choices? Die of thirst? Be torn to pieces by hungry animals? I stuffed my hand into my mouth to stifle my cries. Suddenly, I felt desperately exposed, my skin crawling with panicky goosebumps. What about Minos’ navy? He would have gathered a fleet by now; they would be scouring the waves for us. I knew what he had done to Scylla for betraying her father; what punishment would he have in store for his own faithless daughter?

I struggled to my feet, the stained gold fabric tripping me and my numb legs nearly giving way beneath me. I gathered up the food they had left. I didn’t know what I feared the most – a hungry bear or savage wolf loping from the trees, or the crimson sails of the Cretan navy appearing on the horizon. The water cask swung, reassuringly heavy in my hand, as I turned back the way I thought I had come. Theseus had led me along a gentler incline the previous day, but I could not trust myself to remember it, so I must attempt to climb up the vertiginous slope I had careered down this morning.

Despite the food and water I carried, I clutched the makeshift robe close to me. Although there was no one to see, and no need to protect my modesty, I shrank from the idea of dropping it. The island which had seemed so welcome, so sweet just yesterday now prickled with hostility and a thousand hidden dangers. I gulped back more sobs. If I gave way to weeping again, I would never stop. I might dissolve like Echo, weeping for the vain, cold Narcissus, and be nothing but a thin voice carried on the air. A death like that would be poetic. Painless. The opposite of whatever awaited me on this island.

I struggled up the steep, rocky path, my breath coming faster all the time. Fear upon fear crowded my head and I could hardly see what was in front of me, my mind was so intent upon conjuring up every horror it could. I saw the smears of Minotaur flesh and blood across the sands of Crete, and the water I had gulped down so fervently sloshed in my belly, the sour taste of bile brimming up. I pressed my hand to my sweating forehead and closed my eyes, breathing deep, ragged breaths one after the other. Keep moving, Ariadne, I instructed myself. And when I looked up, I almost laughed with relief as I saw the little house above me, just a short way ahead.

I reached the sanctuary of its courtyard and dropped the cask of water and the other supplies gratefully in its shaded recesses. Darkness had descended over the island almost entirely now, only the faintest line of orange on the horizon. I looked out across the dark sea. No sign of Minos’ ships on the horizon.

Even if Minos learned of Theseus’ return to Athens without me, I wondered if he would come to look for me. He would suspect that it was me who had helped Theseus, and my disappearance would confirm my complicity beyond question. But when he heard that Theseus reached Athens, radiant with solo glory, sharing none of the renown with a bride, would he deduce what had happened to me?

And if he heard the truth – that I had been abandoned by the noble, heroic man for whom I had betrayed my homeland – and even if he heard that it was Naxos where I stayed alone, would he waste a ship to come and retrieve me? What torment could he devise that would be worse than this lonely exile? My heart lurched in my chest. Minos’ indifference would be my punishment. Why chase me across the waves when he could leave me to waste away alone, unmourned and unburied? No one to perform my funeral rites would mean no admittance to Hades’ shadowy realms. If – when – I died here, this is where my lonely spirit would lurk forever. Minos need not come for me at all.

Mechanically, I turned back and entered the house. All was silent. The bed was still in the tumbled state in which I had left it that morning. I let the stained, torn fabric drop from my body. I crawled into the soft bed, my limbs aching with fatigue and my heart burning with pain. Pointlessly, I traced the shape that would have been Theseus beside me, where he had lain the night before when I had known a happiness beyond anything I could have imagined. I wrapped the covers around me, holding them tightly, pretending they were Theseus’ arms. And at some point in that bleak eternity, the fatigue overwhelmed the despair and I slept.

I dreamed that I saw the black-sailed ship on the horizon, growing bigger and bigger as it neared the shore. I ran to the beach, my hair streaming unbound behind me, my heart leaping painfully in my chest. Then Theseus was striding through the surf towards me and I hurled myself against him, the salt spray drenching us both. I felt his arms enclose me, the warmth and safety of him all around me, and he held me tighter and tighter. The waves churned but Theseus steadied me and we swooped through the cool, green water. The ocean closed over my head and I could barely see in the dim green but still Theseus held me and I did not need the air or the sunlight; I could stay in the vast, cold waters forever so long as I was clasped in his embrace. But as I tightened my arms around him, they closed on nothing but saltwater, filling my nose and mouth, and I screamed frantic, noiseless bubbles beneath the weight of the mighty sea as I tumbled into its night-dark abyss, all alone.