Part One: Crete
Chapter One
Almost everyone knows the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur, and how he won the heart of the fair Princess Ariadne of Crete, and sailed away with her as his bride into the sunset. Yet what everyone knows as the truth is a lie. My name is Lady Ariadne of Naxos, and this is my story, the story of the girl of the scarlet thread. Theseus was no hero of mine; except for the fact that he finished what I had began, I would have cursed his name before he set foot off of the island of Crete. But I was an ignorant child, and I had a lot to learn. But I learned it with the grace and skill of a princess. Hearken to my words; listen to my tale. Not all is as it seems.
The year I, Princess Ariadne of Crete, was born, tiny and wailing in my mother's delicate arms, my older brother Androgeus was murdered by King Aegeus of Athens. My mother wept as she nursed me, mourning her favourite son. My father, Minos, was furious, and thirsty for revenge. As the waves crashed against the shore of my island home, father declared war against Athens, gathering warriors and sailing away to fight.
King Aegeus, ever the coward, begged Father for a truce, and Father willingly agreed… for a price. Aegeus was to sacrifice seven youths and seven maidens every nine years, to be given to his fierce Minotaur as a feast. Aegeus could not refuse, for he was not prepared to fight against such an army as ours. Father returned to Crete with the first of the fourteen people, and as my sobs floated out of the castle window, they mingled with the screams of the maidens as they were devoured alive by the savage monster Father kept as a pet.
So even now, as a babe, my name was associated with the bloodshed of innocent people, a name that I would be shamed with for the rest of my life.
When I was but three years old, the Minotaur consumed some of the servants assigned to feed it, and Father allotted Daedalus, a brilliant architect, to design a place where he could keep the Minotaur from killing anyone else it wasn't supposed to.
I still remember the day, when I had just turned five years old, that I ventured through the castle to the prison, where Daedalus and his twelve year old son, Icarus, were being kept. The huge stone staircase leading up to the guarded room loomed before me, frightening me out of my senses. It was a dank smelling place, and there were no windows. Darkness engulfed me like a cloud around the sun.
Plucking up my courage, I cautiously ascended the stairs, my tiny pale face turning even paler when suddenly a smirking guard stuck his nose in my face. I screamed, almost falling down backwards the stairs. The guard grabbed me by the front of my gray tunic, jerking me roughly up the rest of the flight of steps. I trembled in his tight grip, his beady gray eyes glaring down at me.
"What are you doing up here, missy?" he growled.
"I… I've come to see the prisoners…" I stuttered. He laughed until he turned hoarse.
"I don't think so…"
Then a light, lilting voice drifted through the huge wooden door where the prisoners were living.
"Let her, in, man," said Daedalus. "I'd like to see the Princess Ariadne."
As the guard grudgingly let me through, my first question was, "How did you know it was me?"
He laughed, and his son joined in. "I've heard that you're the explorer of your family," he said, wiping away the tears in his eyes. "You remind me of my little girl." He suddenly looked sad, and I felt a surge of compassion. I timidly walked over to him, grabbing his huge hand in my own tiny one. Startled, he stared down at me, eyes wide with surprise, but he was touched.
"Why does Da keep you here?" I asked.
"Because he wants to keep me here forever as his slave." Sighing, he stared out of the tiny window over the rippling blue sea, his eyes full of longing. Then he turned to me. "Now it's my turn to ask a question. Why are you here?"
I hesitated, not quite sure myself. "Because I wanted the company," I declared honestly. Even though I was the only princess, I was ignored by Mother, who had more babes to nurse, and by Father, who had sons to boast of. I had no friends, and my brothers were too old for me to converse with. All the noble's children did not share my sense of adventure, either. I glanced at Icarus, into the deep blue eyes that I believed could look into my very soul. Then I looked into his father's eyes, and saw love and kindness.
"Can I stay here with you?" I blurted. Icarus smothered a snigger, but he couldn't keep his words in his mouth.
"Stay here, with prisoners?" he asked, unbelieving.
His laughter stunned me. I had been laughed at before, but not like this. It hurt, and I stuck out my lower lip in a pout, trembling. Icarus had the dignity to look ashamed, and he knelt down and grasped my hands in his own, his actions citing how sorry he was.
I leaned forward and hugged my arms around his neck. It had been something I always longed to do to someone, to feel as though I belonged to them, and was part of their family. Joy gurgled through my five year old soul as Icarus embraced me back.
Then my nurse barged in, worried-sick and quite mad. She grabbed my hand and dragged me away from them, but it was only temporary.
By the time I was six years old, I had made it a habit to visit Daedalus and his son at least once a day, listening to his stories and playing games with Icarus. I became an adopted member of their tiny family.
It was from him that I learned that the Minotaur was my half brother, the result of one of my mother's sin with a bull. Because they had enraged the gods, instead of a regular son being born, this monster had. Half bull and half man, it lived off the flesh of humans. It had bit off its nurse's finger, and from that point on, had been kept in a pen. Often servants who displeased Father were punished by being the next victim to the Minotaur.
On rainy days when Nurse couldn't take me outside to search the beach for seashells and anemones, I listened to Icarus spin yarns about his homeland. He talked about returning one day, on the wings of the gulls, he would cry dramatically. I could hear the guards' contained snorts of incredulity through the door, but I believed him. I could imagine a gull swooping in through the castle window, gradually growing bigger until the two people could fit onto its back. Then it'd sail away on the breeze… leaving me alone. The thought hurt and startled me, and I tried my best to push it from my mind. It might never happen… but I was about to find out for sure.
One day as I was leaving their room, I noticed a feather peeking out from under Daedalus' bed. Curious, and before anyone else could stop me, I hunched down and looked under the bed. What met my eyes was the strangest thing I'd ever seen: large wings built for men, constructed with large pieces of wood and feathers stuck together with the wax of candles. I ran my hand over them, feeling the softness of the wings. Many gulls had shed many feathers to make those creations. I longed to try them on and fly away, floating on the drafts of the west wind.
I turned and stared up at Icarus and his father, my green eyes full of wonder.
Icarus was biting his lip, glancing at his father frantically.
"What are these for?" I asked curiously. Daedalus took my hand and gazed into my eyes intensely.
"Can you keep a secret?" he whispered. I nodded empathically.
"Those are going to carry us back to Athens," he confided. I tore my hands from his grip.
"You're leaving?" I squeaked.
"We need our freedom."
I knew that, but I couldn't bear the thought of letting them go. Pleading, I hugged his knees, begging him not to leave until I was at least eight years old. My tears soaked his skin, and the guards started to ask what was happening inside.
Daedalus hurriedly promised, and I left that day pleased. Two years seemed like such a long time.
I was wrong. Before long, I turned eight years old, and the design for the Minotaur's pen was finished. I gasped as Daedalus and a now fifteen year old Icarus showed me the plan. It was a large, twisting maze, full of dead-ends and booby traps.
Icarus beamed proudly as I ran my tiny hand over the chart, my fingers tracing the paths. But I had a question.
"How would you get out?"
Icarus and Daedalus exchanged knowing glances. They had become used to my constant questioning, something that others would have quickly punished me for.
"You aren't supposed to escape," Icarus pointed out. I frowned.
"I knew that," I snapped. "I'm not stupid."
Lately Icarus had become extremely annoying, treating me like I was either dim-witted or invisible. His father assured me it was simply a phase that all young men went through.
"Then I'm glad I'm not a man," I'd huffed, and Daedalus had laughed and hugged me to him. "You'll go through similar things soon enough."
"You would need to bring a ball of yarn of thread along with you, and let it trail out behind. Then when you wanted to leave, retrace your steps. But I don't know why you'd want to enter it in the first place." Daedalus chuckled.
I shrugged. "I was just curious."
Icarus rolled his eyes. "Come along, Father," he said, grabbing the edge of his tunic and pulling him along as the guards opened the door. "It's time to show the king."
Icarus, his father, and I all entered the throne room together. It was a large pavilion opening up onto lush green gardens filled with pink and yellow flowers. Two large seats were placed in the middle, surrounded by slaves with fresh fruit and water. They were feeding Father and Mother by hand, but they were dismissed as we neared them. I was dressed in the simple garb of a servant, but I was whisked away by Mother, who scolded me for acting like a commoner. She sent me off to my room to practice my lessons with Hellene, my governess. Sighing, I decided to slip away to the seashore instead. Hellene wouldn't miss me; I learned more from my lessons with Daedalus than with her. She was probably off flirting with one of the nobles, leaving me absolute freedom for the afternoon.
I rushed out of the castle to the sea, where the waves crashed against the rocks, sending a salty spray to kiss my face. I spread my arms and twirled around, dancing, as free as the gulls in the air. I loved to dance; to feel wild and in control at the same time, and to feel no limitations to my dreams. Laughing, I swirled until I was so dizzy that I collapsed on the sand, giggling. Some of the village children came forward hesitantly, but I grabbed their hands and towed them towards the rocks, urging them to come and climb with me. Smiles broke out on their faces, and we clambered up the crags, searching for crabs and colourful rocks.
By the time their fathers came in from fishing, we had collected bountiful handfuls of rocks. But they dropped them eagerly and rushed to meet them, wrapping their arms around their waists in a loving hug. They waved to me as they strolled to their tiny cabins, their fathers' arms around their shoulders, and their head held high and proud.
They left me like that, alone on the rocky cliffs, my hands full of colour, but my heart full of sore.
That night I tossed and turned in bed, my thoughts haunting me. I had never thought about who was my real family, but ever since I had witnessed the intimate scenes between the commoners, I wondered if anyone loved me like that.
I had over five siblings, whom I didn't even know by name. Icarus had been distant lately, and even Daedalus seemed distracted. I knew he was worried about the winds, and when the best time to leave would be. They were hoping to return home to Athens, and I was just trying to figure out where I belonged.
The next day when I visited Daedalus, my heart was heavy. The light in his eyes told me that soon he would be leaving, and he and Icarus walked about with an easy step. Icarus grabbed my hands and spun me around in joy.
I smiled feebly, allowing him to pull me along. But when he let go to dance around by himself, I sat down on his bed and swiped the tears from my eyes. Daedalus took a seat beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
"We have to leave," he said softly, reading my thoughts. "We can't stay here forever." I nodded, but that's when the tears started to roll slowly down my cheeks. He embraced me, and I buried my face into his tunic, letting the smell of candles and the salty sea overwhelm me.
I gulped and leaned back, shaking. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I inhaled deeply, gathering my courage.
"I love you, and I'll miss you," I said. He ruffled my hair tenderly.
"I love you too, daughter, and if I could, I'd carry you to Athens myself," he said. His face was aggrieved. "I had a little girl just like you, and she died, drowned when she was ten. Her mother died in childbirth."
Tears welled in his eyes, eyes that had seen so much, yet survived.
Icarus came over and gave me a tiny hug. "I'm sorry that I've been so mean," he apologized, and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
"I forgive you," I said.
Then I turned to hurry out of the room, but Daedalus caught my arm. He handed me a scroll. "Your father is going to have this built, along with the maze. I know how much you like to dance." I gaped as I unrolled a plan for a smooth stone dancing pavilion. I whipped my head to gawk at him.
"For me?"
He nodded. "I saw you dancing on the beach," he admitted. "I thought you would like this."
"Thank you," I said, amazed at the gift. "I didn't think anyone knew."
I hurried out of the room, or else I would have begun to bawl, and I didn't want to alert the guards that something might be wrong.
I strode past them, determined not to cry, and my straight-backed frame with my reddish brown waves bouncing must have seemed funny to them. I hurried to my room, placing the scroll on my dressing table, in a place where I'd easily be able to see it from my bed. Smiling, I dropped onto my bed and curled up like a tiny dog. I closed my eyes and urged sleep to take over, and the god Hypnos was good to me, sending sweet dreams of flying over the sea with the gulls, away from Crete, towards the swirl of pink and yellow that was the dawn, and casting my worries down into the ocean.
As I trudged up the staircase to Daedalus' prison room, I was nearly stampeded by the guards, who flew down the steps, calling for the king. "It's the prisoners!" they were shouting. Alarmed that they may be injured, I ran to the room, only to find it empty. I searched around, and, right under the big open window, in a ray of golden light, laid a single feather. I picked it up and smiled.
"May you get there safely," I whispered, stroking the dull gray and white spines of the plume.
I turned and looked out the wide window, where the sky was blue and the sun high in the sky. Sticking my head out, I felt the warm gentle breeze that threatened to carry me outwards, out over the ocean, and towards Athens, where freedom reigned.
The day after Daedalus and Icarus left, I stayed in my room all morning, contemplating if I would ever leave for some unknown shore. I daydreamed of soaring over the deep blue ocean, full of monsters and nymphs, towards barren shores not yet traversed by men. Smiling dreamily, I fiddled with the feather until I heard a knock on my door. Sitting up alertly, I gasped as a rough-looking guard barged in, grabbing my arm and dragging me from my bed. I struggled against his grip, kicking his shin. He cursed and slapped my cheek.
It stung. I yelped and glared up at him. "What are you doing?" I cried. "Who are you?"
"Your father wants to see you," he said gruffly. "And my name is Adrastus, captain of the guards."
"Well you don't have to come and grab me like that. And you don't have to slap me!" I sniffed disdainfully. "I'm just a little girl."
He looked a tiny bit ashamed. "Sorry about that," he mumbled. "Highness."
The name threw me off a little. No one had ever called me by that title, and it made me uncomfortable. "My name is Ariadne," I corrected him stiffly.
Baffled, Adrastus quickly righted himself. "I'm sorry Ariadne."
I nodded, pleased with his progress. "Now you're getting it."
His hand flew to his mouth, but only to cover the hint of a smile. "You're a different one, you are, child."
I didn't know what he meant, but it didn't matter. As Adrastus led me away, I chattered ceaselessly to him about rocks and the ocean, and how I loved to climb.
Finally he stopped our descent down the hall and looked down, meeting my eyes. "Do you have anything to do around here, girl, other than bother people?" His tone was rough, but his eyes twinkled merrily.
I shook my head. "Other than lessons, which are very tiresome," I answered.
He laughed a huge, hearty chuckle that sounded much like a lion's roar. I jumped, startled.
"What if I give you some real work to do?" he asked. "Then you won't be such a bored little girl."
I agreed, but I couldn't brace myself for what would come soon.
"Now what does Father want with me?" I asked.
His sunburned face became very serious, and his grip on my hand tighter. "Ouch," I complained, but he didn't pay attention. His step quickened, and I struggled to keep up. I tripped over my own feet, and would have gone sailing had he not been holding on so tightly to my hand. As it was, my knees were dragged along the cold marble floor for a few metres, badly skinning them. Bruised and slightly bloody, I allowed him to haul me down the hall. Then we entered Father's private chambers.
I cowered behind the guard's bulky body, nervous. I had never been in Father's chambers before, and it meant that it was a very serious matter. I glanced around, avoiding Father's glare. His rooms backed out onto a balcony overlooking a spread of dirt that would soon be the Minotaur's maze.
"Look at me, girl," Father demanded. "I won't bite." But he hardly sounded gentle as he took my chin between his fingers and yanked it up so I was looking him in the eyes. I gulped. "What do you … I mean, what would you like, Father?" I squeaked.
He frowned. "Do you know where Daedalus and Icarus, the prisoners you spend so much time with…" he wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Do you know where they went?"
He was looking straight into my eyes, probing them for answers. His cold blue orbs unnerved me, and I knew he would be able to tell if I was lying or not. But I tried my best anyway. I wouldn't betray Daedalus to him. "No," I answered as calmly as I could, but my eyes were wide with terror. He sensed my fear like a hound to the scent of a hart.
The slap came quickly and hurt very much, leaving a red imprint on my pale cheek. I yelped and rubbed it hard, hoping to massage the sting away. But I couldn't massage the anger I felt in my heart. A deep, undying hatred welled up in me, so much I surprised myself. Without a thought to what I was doing, I grabbed his hand and bit it, hard. I tasted blood, and tried not to retch.
The roar that met my ears nearly deafened me, and I dropped to the floor, covering my ears, but the yell still rang inside my brain like a bell.
I was pulled upwards by a strong, furious Father, who lifted me clear off the ground and began to shake me back and forth, until I had no choice but to open my eyes. What I saw was disgust in his eyes. That was when I knew: he hated me. Ever since I had been born on the day his beloved son had been killed, he thought of me as a bad-luck charm.
"I should feed you to your brother!" he shouted. "Get out of my sight, and may the curse of the gods be upon you!" He threw me away like a used wad of scrolls, and I landed on the cold marble ground a few metres away, on my back. The wind knocked out of me, I lay there for a few moments, trying to catch my breath. Then I got up and scrambled away, tears streaking down my cheeks. But I didn't sob.
I don't know how long I ran, or how far. All I knew was that I had to get away. I rushed through the castle gardens, out through the high walls that surrounded us, and found myself on the verge of the sea. Blindly, I ran straight into the waves, my grief driving me on. It was when salty sea water went up my nose and the current crashed me about that I realized what I'd done. I screamed and kicked as the ocean tried to pull me under, coaxing me into its watery depths. Waves rolled over me, leaving me coughing and spluttering as I tried to keep afloat. I searched frantically around for a rescuer; but there were no fishermen out on the sea, and all the other villagers were inside eating their humble bread. Just as I was about to say my last prayers to Poseidon to make my death quick and merciful, big strong arms encircled my waist, dragging me out of the water. Gasping, I clung to the stranger's tunic and trembled.
"Shhh, it's all right, Princess," murmured the man, stroking my wet curls comfortingly. I wept into his already drenched tunic, and looked up into the brown eyes of Adrastus.
"You," I sniffed. "I didn't think that you liked me that much."
"Well, I only came because I felt sorry for you," he responded gruffly, but I could tell by the softness in his eyes that he was lying. I grinned, my lips wobbly.
"Can you take me home?"
He nodded, and as he carried me back towards the castle, I fell asleep in his arms.
That night I awoke coughing. My throat was dry and sore, and I was cold all over. I snuggled deep down beneath the fleece thrown over my bed, but then I felt too hot. I tossed and turned, and sometimes my throat hurt so much tears sprung from my eyes. I tried to call for my nurse, but I had lost my voice. As I struggled to sleep, I wept silently. I felt weak and vulnerable, and I hated it.
When I didn't arrive for breakfast with Mother and Father the next morning, they sent a slave to search for me. The girl arrived to see me sprawled out on the floor, unconscious. Frightened, she hurriedly called for my nurse, who fled to my royal parents claiming I had a horrible, infectious disease.
One of Father's wise men came in and shook me awake, checking my temperature.
"I don't know what she has, but she should be isolated from everyone else. It may be deadly."
Father stared down at me, eyes hard. "This is just the beginning," he whispered. "This is your curse."
I had never thought to believe in such things, but my eyes widened in terror, and I struggled desperately against the guards' hold on me as they dragged me away towards the same prison room where Daedalus had been imprisoned. They threw me in there and locked the door, leaving me to die.
Wobbling precariously, I managed to heave myself onto the straw bed. Then I fainted.
I don't know how long I slept, and I don't know what happened during that time, but the next I knew, I awoke in a warm hovel in the village, with a worried-looking woman and two children hovering over me. I tried to scream in surprise, but it came out as a hoarse croak. "Wha…" I choked on my own words.
"My name is Dana," the woman said kindly, her brows furrowed with concern. "I am the wife of Adrastus, and these are our two children, Danae and Adram." She smiled down at her offspring with such tenderness that I felt a lump in my throat.
She then turned and got a cool cloth, laying it across my forehead. She stroked my hair back from my face, her soft fingers firm and cool. I sighed and closed my eyes, falling into a peaceful sleep.
Sunlight filtered through the open window, seeping through my thick eyelashes and convincing me to wake up. Fluttering them to avoid blinding myself, I struggled to sit up on the cot that I was laid out on. Yawning, I stretched out, wincing as muscles cramped.
I glanced around the small room, feeling a bit better, but my head was still pounding with a headache. A cough escaped my throat, and suddenly Dana was there, fussing over me like a mother hen. I smiled up at her. Dana was a small, petite woman with sparkling gray eyes and a wide smile. Her light brown hair, bleached by years of the sun, was pulled back in coils, a few loose tendrils curling around her heart shaped face. The two children, Danae and Adam, crowded around her, their faces creased with anxiety.
Danae was a tall, ten year old girl with her mother's long brown hair and light gray eyes. They reminded me of the depths of the ocean, penetrating and mysterious. Her hair was roped back in a braid, which hung down her back. Her little brother Adam was a six year old with a mischievous smile and twinkling green eyes. His dark brown hair fell across his face, and he reminded me of the god Hermes.
The tiny family patted my hands and urged me to lie back down. Reluctantly, and with many protests, I obeyed. Adrastus entered the tiny hovel, his guard's tunic a dull red and his sandals worn and nearly broken. I wondered why Father didn't dress his servants better, but I had stopped trying to unlock the mystery that was the king.
"I'm off to work," he said quietly, embracing his wife and patting the heads of his children before making his way over to me. I gazed up at him through feverish eyes, and he took my hand. "I hope you're healing nicely," he said huskily. I nodded, but as heat suddenly overtook my body, I began to sweat and toss. He glanced at his wife, who ran to their tiny cupboards and began to rummage around for herbs. He came back with an arm load of them, and began to apply them all over my forehead. I didn't know what she was doing, but it made me feel peaceful and drowsy, and I eventually sank back down into sleep.
A/n: this is the start of a story that I want to one day publish. This is meant to give Ariadne a character that people can identify with, and I understand that the timeline may be a bit off. Constructive criticism is welcome, as I want to make this story the best I can. Please review! Luv, Becky
