Ariadne(44)



I gaped, dumbstruck. I took a step closer, then another, then touched my hand to the jewel-toned liquid. The wine was warm against my fingers, sweet when I licked the droplets from my skin. I pushed my hair back from my forehead, squinted closer, gazed all around and finally laughed out loud with disbelief.

Another miraculous gift given; another astonishing transformation. The island was no longer a bleak and barren place of fear, with the lingering trace of death on every breeze. Now, every molecule of air fizzed with an invisible promise, the world alive with possibility. I knew now that I must be in the presence of something far mightier than I had ever known. A queasy fear mingled with the excitement and joy I felt. Who knew what might come next? The courtyard felt close and stifling, the powerful fumes of wine snaking through the warm air. I felt my hair prickling the back of my neck. Clutching at my arms, trembling, I made for the rocks again to look for the ship. I yearned for the sea breeze to blow away the confusion and to quell the gnawing panic. I had been saved, or so it seemed. But for what purpose?

On board that ship must be whoever had made the wine flow and the grapes spring, ripe and luscious, from the barren ground. I strained to see, every nerve in my body jangling with anticipation. More than anything, I feared that the ship would change course. That it was not headed for Naxos at all but would divert, swing around and disappear into nothing again. But it did not. It advanced ever closer, grew ever larger as it sailed on towards the beach.

From my vantage point up on the rocks, I began to see how strange it was. The mast was tall and large white sails billowed from it. But as I watched, I saw tendrils of greenery begin to creep up the tall wooden pole. I saw the vines stretch and curve and the leaves thicken and swell. Before my awestruck eyes, I saw great branches burst out over the very top of the vessel and from these overhanging creepers, bunches of grapes popped out one after another. They hung over the ship in ponderous clusters, far bigger than those that grew behind me, but with the same purple sheen.

I heard shouts from the deck. Men were racing back and forth beneath this preposterous, unthinkable sight. I could see them pointing, their faces upturned, their mouths stretched into rounded ‘O’s of shock. And as they darted this way and that in panicked dismay, I saw wreaths of ivy twisting and twining along the sides of the ship like living serpents clutching the vessel within their inescapable coils.

The ship drifted closer, right beneath the rocks now, so that I could see the crimson river which began to flow at the prow of the ship, spilling across the wooden boards. The men lifted their feet and shook the hems of their robes which, I could see, were stained bright red. It looked like a bloody tide swamping the ship, but I knew it must be wine – rich, red wine, seeping into the wood and spreading across the floor in an unstoppable flow.

One figure sat unmoved amidst the chaos. I could make out a circlet of golden curls glinting in the sunlight. The men swarmed in panic, but this figure – I could not tell if it were a boy, a man or perhaps a woman – was perfectly still, perched by the mast. I thought I could hear the lilting melody of a laugh, rising above the shouts of the crew.

The ivy and the vines crept faster along the ship, spilling over the edges, more and more grapes swinging from the branches splayed out high above the sails. The rushing figures slowed gradually and I saw them kneel, one by one, before the golden-haired figure in the centre. The shouts of fear died down and all was silent, except for the lapping of the waves and the rustling of the greenery that now festooned the ship.

I craned over the cliff edge; the ship, drifting beneath me now, was so close that I could see the bowed sailors’ dark hair lift and ruffle in the ocean breeze. The golden-haired figure stood up and I saw he was a young man. His figure was slight but he stood at the centre of the prostrate circle with a confident, loose-limbed ease. I could see that he opened his mouth to speak but the soft breath of Aeolus carried his words away on the wind. In his hand, he held a slender wooden staff that was entwined with a thick vine bursting into leaf at the top; yet another cluster of grapes quivered at the head as he swung it in a careless motion.

The effect was instantaneous. The bodies of all the men kneeling face down before him convulsed in one sudden motion. They writhed, slamming their fists on the deck and groaning terribly. Horror gripped my spine in its icy grasp but I could not look away as, one by one, their backs swelled into great rounded humps. Sleek grey skin tore through their robes, exploding their bodies into long silver shapes that I could not make sense of at first. The creatures that had been men just a moment ago rolled across the ship, their mighty tails slapping the wood that human fists had pounded in desperation. Weird yelps and squeaks rose up to me – a melancholy, garbled song. As I watched, the confusion resolved itself all of a sudden into shapes I understood. Around the laughing golden youth, where there had been twelve men, there were now twelve dolphins arching their unwieldy, unfamiliar bodies in the abruptly alien air. No – not twelve, eleven. One remaining man had hauled himself to his knees and watched the scene, aghast, his hands clutched to his face and his mouth agape.

One of the dolphins managed to clumsily fling itself against the side of the ship and dive into the deep blue water. I could see the relief transform it as it leapt sinuously into the waves and away from the suffocating fear on board. The others quickly followed suit, hurling their big grey bodies frantically against the sides until they could find their freedom. As the last one blindly struggled over, the waves were broken by the arching shapes of the dolphins leaping through the water around the ship.

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