Ariadne(56)

I squirmed and twisted, felt myself caught in a slippery net, and hurled myself against its sides in a desperate attempt to escape. My breath was a panicked gasp, clawing at my throat for air as I sat bolt upright, the blankets tangled around me. The dawn light flooded the room and I was alone. I took a long, slow breath and shook my head, trying to loosen the hold the dream still had upon me, letting the fear dissipate in the quiet solitude of morning.





20


Phaedra


‘Where have you been all day?’ Theseus was surly, slumped across the low couch that ran the length of one wall of our wide chamber. Above his head, the sun streamed in through the window cut into the stone, casting his face into shadow.

I was brought up short by the unexpected sight of him. I had assumed he was out riding in the hills, hunting some poor creatures far more puny than the monsters he preferred to battle; venting the frustrations that always accompanied his sojourns at home on the blameless stags and boars that roamed our mountains. Instead, it looked as though I was to be the target. I stood taller, shaking my hair back from my face and looking him straight in the eyes. ‘I have been at court,’ I said coldly. The words I didn’t say hovered unspoken: The people expect their King to be there. What kind of King allows his wife to take on his duties in his place?

‘What fascinating problems did you hear today?’ he scorned. ‘A farmer accusing his rival of appropriating his mangy sheep, perhaps? A bee hive placed too near to a neighbour’s house? Someone’s dog has bitten a passer-by? I am sorry indeed to have missed it.’

‘They are your people,’ I reminded him. ‘Their lives matter to them and so they should matter to you.’

He snorted. The silence lay heavy in the room.

‘There was talk today that might have interested you.’ I took up a comb that lay on my dressing table and began to pull it through my curls. The traipsing in and out of so many people into our great hall stirred up so much dust, I could feel it clinging to my skin and hair. Taking his lack of response as an invitation to continue, I went on. ‘The Laurion hills in the south are yielding more and more silver by the day. It was suggested that some of these riches could be used to build more ships.’

Theseus shrugged.

‘Does Athens seek a bigger navy?’ I asked. I didn’t bother waiting for an answer. ‘Minos’ ships were once the scourge of Greece, but no one seems to fear the power of Crete any more.’

‘Your brother is no Minos,’ Theseus said.

It was true. Whilst my brother ruled quietly on Crete, the confusion and fear that the surrounding islands had felt in the immediate aftermath of the Minotaur’s death had given way to a daring lack of respect – and even open contempt – for the ruling seat of Knossos now. Athens had seemed to gain a greater prominence as Crete fell further into shadow. I had begun to notice that our small citadel was now flooded daily by traders and merchants from near and far. ‘Do you think we are as powerful now as Crete? Can we raise a fleet equal to theirs?’

‘Better,’ said Theseus.

‘But Athens is small,’ I argued. ‘The silver deposits give us wealth, but do we have the might that Minos wielded? Can we muster enough men from this city alone to fight and conquer as he did?’

‘Do you seek to lead an invasion?’ Theseus asked.

The edge of mockery in his tone incensed me and I flung aside my comb with greater force than I intended. It skittered off the edge of the carved wooden table and bounced against the marble slabs of the floor. ‘My father held this city hostage for three years,’ I snapped. ‘Surely you want to protect us from any who seek to emulate his reign? How better to do that than by augmenting our own power?’

He sat up, eyeing me with not a little suspicion. ‘Carry on, little Phaedra.’

Little Phaedra. He thought of me still as the thirteen-year-old girl captivated by his boasts. I would show him that I had spent my years learning; whilst he wandered the world in search of excitement, I had been here watching and waiting. ‘The mountains give us a natural defence against anyone seeking to take us by land; no army that has ever existed could cross them,’ I said. ‘We draw our water from the river, straight to the citadel; no siege could cut us off from fresh supplies. Our coastline is long; it is our weakness but could become our strength.’

His eyes were cold now as he looked at me steadily.

‘We are vulnerable to attack by sea; that is how Minos took Athens at first. I think it is wise to build a stronger navy; the foundations of a mighty fleet that will ensure our power for centuries. But if we have more ships, we need more men.’

‘And where do you propose we find them?’

I threw my arms out wide, carried away with my own ideas now. ‘Look at Attica. All around us are small villages and towns. Each one is tiny by itself, but if joined together with us, we could command a dozen times more men than we have now.’

‘You wish for us to raid them?’ Theseus was on his feet, his face alight.

‘Not take them by force,’ I said slowly. Observing his disappointment, I laid a hand on his arm, made him look into my face. ‘I saw how Minos ruled as a tyrant,’ I reminded him. ‘He held Athens in the grip of fear and dread, and look how much loyalty you bore him. They will not be ours if we raze them to the ground.’