Ariadne(76)

‘And you?’ I asked. ‘Were you troubled in the night? Is your bed uncomfortable or anything not to your liking? Just say the word and I will have someone attend to whatever you require.’

He laughed a little. ‘No, thank you,’ he said. ‘I have no need of a bed.’

‘What do you mean?’ I asked. ‘You have our finest guest chambers; do you sleep upon the cold, marble floors? Or do Amazonians not need sleep at all?’

He looked confused. ‘Why wouldn’t we sleep?’

I smiled at him, charmed by his honest bewilderment. ‘I only joke, Hippolytus,’ I said. ‘Though I wonder sometimes if you are quite human like the rest of us. Your tales of the Amazons seem so magical and marvellous to me, perhaps you are something else entirely.’

‘We are mortal,’ he answered. A slight cloud seemed to pass over his face. ‘I simply choose not to sleep in a palace. I prefer to be close to my horses.’

I looked about the stable. It was a simple shack of bare walls and stone floor; nothing like the painted marble of the palace, bedecked with frescoes and mosaics and fine woven rugs. ‘But where—?’ I began, and then I saw a pallet of straw heaped up in one corner. ‘Really?’ I asked, a laugh burgeoning in my throat, though I did not think it funny exactly – rather, so unusual that I did not know quite what to make of it.

‘It is more comfortable to me than any bed of cushions,’ he said. His back was turned to me now.

I wondered if he were embarrassed and hastened to reassure him. ‘Of course, you may do as you please,’ I said. ‘This is your home and I desire nothing more than your comfort. If you are happy in the stable . . .’ I trailed off.

‘I mean no insult to you and my father,’ he said. ‘I just prefer to be outside.’ He began to comb through the mane of the horse at his side and it huffed softly, happily at his touch.

‘Be assured, we do not take offence,’ I said. ‘Your father would not care if you took it upon yourself to sleep on the roof. He has no thought for etiquette, I promise you.’

‘I am glad,’ he said. ‘It is one of the things I like most about him.’

I hesitated, then changed tack. I did not want to bring my husband any further into this quiet stable where Hippolytus and I spoke alone. ‘But your wife one day might object if you prefer to sleep amongst the horses than by her side,’ I said. I hoped that a gentle teasing might loosen him up a little. He seemed still so stiff, so reserved in my company. I longed to help this serious young man relax, to see a smile break across his face or hear him laugh.

‘I will take no wife,’ he said curtly.

He began to lead the great white stallion towards the stable doors. I had to step aside quickly to make room.

‘Surely it is too soon to say such a thing!’ I protested, not wanting our conversation to end so abruptly. ‘You have only just left your island, you have not yet seen what the world has to offer.’

He tossed his head. His hair gleamed in the dim light. It would be so soft to the touch, I thought.

‘I have dedicated my life to Artemis,’ he told me. ‘In honour of the virgin goddess, I will stay chaste. Now, I must ride out with this one, Queen Phaedra, for he is eager to run.’

I spluttered a little, searching for an answer, but in a moment he had swung himself up on to the horse’s back and cantered away from me, leaving me to absorb this strange revelation. Hippolytus, the son of the lusty Theseus, sworn to stay chaste? I knew he was unlike his father in every other respect, but this, I confess, took me aback. What strong and handsome youth, with riches and privilege at his feet, would choose a lonely life out on the hillsides for the honour of the cold and bloodless Artemis? I could not understand it.

He rejected glory and conquest, I knew. Hippolytus had not been raised with the stories that are meat and drink to men like Theseus. No brawny Heracles had lounged on couches in the Amazonian halls, bragging of vanquishing and murdering and searing his name across history, to ignite a ravenous fire in the young Hippolytus or awaken a vast appetite that would never be sated. Hippolytus was raised by women – powerful, ferocious women, yes, but murderous only in their own defence. The Amazons had no yearning to invade distant lands or rule faraway kingdoms, and they did not teach their young son the rampaging ways of his father. But I would not have thought that a life of solitude would be a consequence of this. I could not see why he would choose to stay single – unless there was a woman he loved already and could not have? I stopped in my tracks. That would explain this strange choice, surely? If he had fallen in love, and knew it could not be requited, then he might choose to submerge his passion in the icy waters where the followers of Artemis bathed alone, and try to soothe its burning flames.

A woman he thought he could not have. That was an idea indeed. I walked to the doors through which he had so suddenly exited, unwilling to say another word, suddenly eager to leave my company. Before he said too much? I reflected on this as my eyes flickered across the horizon. Already, he was a tiny figure on its furthest reaches, galloping down to the valley below. I had never been particularly keen on horses before, but as I watched him disappear now, I wondered what that kind of freedom felt like. Deep within me, I felt an echo of the Phaedra I had once been – a girl full of fire and determination, a girl who had wielded the club of Theseus on that fateful night in Knossos whose repercussions had spread to every corner of my life. A girl whose spirit I had thought snuffed out entirely by marriage and motherhood.