Ariadne(41)

‘He only managed to kill the Minotaur because of Ariadne!’ I stopped myself from saying more. For reasons known only to himself, Theseus had not incriminated me. Perhaps Artemis’ pitiless gaze had swept past me as well.

‘That is true.’ Deucalion’s eyes were thoughtful, his tone reasonable. ‘The people of Athens can see that Minos’ children are not Minos. We can show them that his tyranny is over and our bitterest enemy could instead be our greatest ally. But our words are not enough. We need to make reparations, earn their trust. Above all, we must avoid a war when Crete is poised on the brink already, about to topple into chaos at the slightest push.’

‘Why would they ever trust us?’ I asked. I could not imagine what he meant.

‘We took twenty-eight of their children to be devoured in our Labyrinth,’ he went on. So calm, so measured. ‘I suggested to Theseus that we give them in return only one of ours.’

I froze.

‘Your hand, Phaedra, in marriage, when you come of age. A Princess of Crete wedded to the King of Athens. This would secure their support instead of bringing down their fury upon our heads, surely you can see that.’

‘The King of Athens?’ I asked, horrified. ‘You want me to marry Aegeus?’

He shook his head, rapidly. He laughed, then collected himself, remembering that he spoke of selling me. ‘No, no, Aegeus is dead. Theseus said that in his grief and confusion at our sister’s death, he forgot to change his sails from black to white. Aegeus stood on the cliff edge every day, scanning the sea for the return of the Athenian ship. When he saw it approach, still hung with the black sails of mourning, he thought that his son had died in our Labyrinth. He flung himself into the sea and so Theseus stepped off that ship already King.’

So another Athenian life had been claimed by us. No wonder Deucalion thought he made a fair trade. A bargain, for Crete to lose only one girl, it would be said.

‘He loved Ariadne,’ Deucalion said to me gently. ‘He will grow to love you in her place. He has served our family well. We are lucky to have this chance.’

‘So, in five years, I go to Athens?’ I asked, uncertain.

He shook his head. ‘We cannot expect them to believe we will keep our word. You will sail as soon as possible.’

I stared at him.

‘They will care for you. The palace of Athens is grand and beautiful. You will live well there.’

Alone in a city, where everyone would hate me as an emblem of everything they had lost at the hands of my father. Deucalion spoke as though it were a gesture of unity between Athens and Crete, but I would be a hostage to the fragile peace he sought. I backed away from my brother, hand clasped to my mouth. I had thought he brought salvation with him. Instead he had traded my existing bondage for another.

My brother was true to his word. A ship, heaped with riches to appease Athens and bearing an envoy ready to beg forgiveness, idled in the harbour the very next day. It waited only for the final gift. Me.

My face felt stiff as I walked towards the ship, my legs heavy and dragging. I had never really known a childhood in Crete but I had known nowhere else. My heart lifted slightly when I saw Pasiphae standing at the dock, waiting to bid me farewell. She was still prone to fits of trembling; I might see slow tears sliding down her cheeks, and her eyes would sometimes cloud over in a conversation. But in the precious days since we had lost Ariadne, the Minotaur and Minos all at once, I had felt that my true mother was somewhere inside. Now, she held me close, and I let myself soften and give way to her embrace.

Perhaps the gods had done with her now. I hoped she would be left alone to grow old without their interference.

Deucalion stood tall, unwavering, the last person between me and the ship. He rested his hand on my shoulder, fixed my gaze in his. ‘Be brave, little sister,’ he said to me. ‘Athens is a magnificent city. You will flourish there.’

I didn’t answer. Somehow, there was nothing to say. I stood on the deck and watched the waves fall away between me and my home. I wept at first, I cannot deny it. But as the hours slipped past, I could not cry any longer. I began to wonder what the Athenian palace would be like. What it would be like to see Theseus again. I confess that on that night with Ariadne, I had been jealous of their time alone together. I had yearned to join forces with him, to rain down fire upon my own city and punish them all for what we had endured. But now, I found that I would have given any number of moments with Theseus for just one more conversation with my sister. I seemed to feel a thousand years older than the girl who had sprung upon them with Theseus’ club that I had stolen myself. What I wanted from Theseus now, above all else, was answers.

It was a long voyage. I wished that we could stop at Naxos, so that I could lay flowers for Ariadne, but Deucalion had been clear that we sailed direct. My mind raced too much for sleep; my body was prickling with anticipation, nervousness and I don’t know what else. As we neared Athens, I gripped the rail on the deck until my knuckles turned white. My handmaiden, a quiet girl who, it occurred to me, had left behind her home and family too in order to accompany me, tugged at my sleeve and tried to persuade me to submit to having my hair brushed and my dress changed before we arrived. I only capitulated when I saw how young she was and thought of how afraid she must be too.

He was there to greet us. I had not known whether or not to expect it. He stood there, leaning against the harbour wall, shading his eyes with his hand. Still just as handsome, I noted dispassionately. My gloom did not lift with the sight of his face, or the touch of his big hand wrapped around mine as he helped me down from the ship.