Ariadne(60)
‘The task of judgement will become, in time, too great for Hades to manage alone. I see a day, Ariadne, when your own father, King Minos of Crete, shall rule over Hades’ Plain of Judgement, and he shall cast sentence over all the dead.’
‘My father?’ I spluttered. ‘How can that be?’
Dionysus shrugged. ‘I see that it will come to pass but the meaning and intentions of Hades’ mind are impenetrable to me.’
I no longer feared to see Minos’ crimson flags on the horizon since Dionysus had come to Naxos. I had begun to hope that I could live free of my father. But now I was struck with the appalling vision of him enthroned in the land of the dead, standing in judgement over my quailing soul. I knew there would be no mercy in his pitiless gaze. No leniency dispensed for the sake of our shared blood. I imagined the satisfaction he would take in determining my eternal punishment. The thought of it hung heavy in me.
‘I did not know where I would find my mother amidst this vast throng,’ Dionysus continued. His eyes rested on me; he knew how fear had seized me but he went on with his tale. ‘But Hades knows every soul that sets foot there and within a moment, one of his hooded messengers beckoned me forward, to the great palace itself. The plain that sprawled in front of that mighty edifice was filled with anxious spirits whose moans and cries rose into the cavernous dark, above a cacophony of despair. After their fate was decided, they would drink from the River Lethe and the raw, miserable knowledge of their death would be soothed.
‘I stepped across that plain, towards the vast colonnade of marble pillars at the front of the palace. In the very centre rose the huge throne of Hades; a dark, gnarled wooden construction, hacked from a monstrous tree that had stood there in the bowels of the earth since the dawn of time. I could believe its roots coiled deep into the dirt beneath us, holding that throne fast in place for all time. When the stars collapse in on us all and the world is consumed by fire, when everything is reduced to white dust, Hades will still sit and rule his swollen kingdom.
‘When he spoke, his voice was a deep, slow rumble, thick with damp earth and the cold smoke of ashes. “Dionysus, I see that you have journeyed to my Underworld. None of the gods has ever attempted such an undertaking, though all have the power. Why do you come?”
None can hide their purpose from Hades in his realm. He knows the mind of every creature that walks there. I cleared my throat, a puny sound in this cavernous, echoing place, and spoke. “I never laid eyes on my mother. She was snatched away too early by the cruel trickery of jealous Hera. I wish only to see her once.” I did not speak of my burning questions, the torment that had gripped me since the death of Ampelos and the need to ask why. Why mortals bloomed like flowers and crumbled to nothing? Why their absence left a gnawing ache, a hollow void that could never be filled? And how everything they once were, that spark within them, could be extinguished so completely yet the world did not collapse under the weight of so much pain and grief.’
Dionysus laughed bitterly. ‘I did not speak my questions aloud, but I did not need to. Hades knew. “Your mother fulfilled her purpose,” he told me. He placed his words like heavy stones on the ground before me, but there was no unkindness in his tone. “She left a baby destined for greatness. Her life was not an uncompleted one. It made you a god, rather than a man. Why would you wish it to be otherwise?” In truth, I did not wish such a thing. I had never longed to be a man or to relinquish my divinity. I only wanted to understand the price that was exacted.
‘Hades sat tall and straight upon his wooden throne. His face betrayed no interest in my thoughts or motives. He did not seem to care for an answer. “Semele approaches,” he told me. “You may speak with her, look upon her as you wish. But she is one of my kingdom now and she will not know you or understand what you say. Her memory of the world could only be restored by her return to it, and such a thing is forbidden.” I raised my head, startled. Those cold, black eyes still stared into mine. But before I could say anything further, I saw my mother drifting towards us.
‘How Hades had silently compelled her, I could not say. How I knew at once it must be her, I cannot explain. Simply that I recognised her, without having ever seen her or heard tell of her appearance beyond that she was beautiful enough to incite the fatal interest of Zeus. My bones, my sinews, my blood all knew her. I felt the truth of it, unmistakeable and solid to the core.
‘She did not know me. Her empty eyes drifted past me. She did not turn her head when I spoke. And when I tried to take her arm, my fingers rippled through nothing but smoke. “She will follow.” Hades’ said and his breath was clammy fog in my ear. I had not heard or seen him rise but he was at once close behind me. “You may walk with your mother in my city, young god, but when your talk is done my ferryman awaits to take you back across the Styx. Remember, he takes you and you alone.” His warning dripped ice through my spine.
‘I began to walk hastily, jerkily, not knowing where I was going – only that I must get away from this dread god. And my mother followed, no more than a barely animated shade, moving without purpose or direction, unseeing but always at my side. Still, absent as she was, it was the first time I had walked with my mother.’
The slight break in Dionysus’ voice as he said this made me look closely at him. His face was taut with emotion; a sadness that made his ageless face appear childlike in its vulnerability and, beneath that, a stirring of simmering fury. Dionysus was a god and gods did not have to suffer the indignities of grief. I knew well enough from all the stories that when a god mourned, someone else would suffer.