Twisted Mythology: Ariadne Read Free Page A

Labyrinth.  Minos had a steady stream
of other polis’ who paid a tribute in youths destined to become her
half-brother’s next meal along with a staggering number of criminals from
across Crete and slaves from across Hellas.  The monster would never grow
hungry.  But the possibility still loomed over them, and Ariadne knew they
lived with fear daily.

Chapter 3
     
    The King and his court came to their feet upon the arrival
of the Athenian tributes.  They were given no applause; instead they were
greeted with silence.  Every conversation ceased upon the herald bellowing out
their names.  As she guided them to an empty table near the center of the hall,
not even a whisper from the court reached her ears.  All the tributes were
greeted in this fashion.  Minos had explained to her that he did not want the
tributes to feel mocked.  They were already terrified, and he had no wish to
add to their fears.
    Ariadne saw them installed at their table and their plates
and goblets filled before she joined her parents at the high table.  She stood
next to her mother and listened to her father recite the history of the war
between Athens and Crete.  She watched the tributes as the King’s voice carried
across the great hall.  Only Theseus seemed to be listening intently; he seemed
to study every word.  At the end of her father’s speech, she almost expected to
hear the Athenian shout that Minos had spouted out a list of lies.  Tributes
were known to do it, if not at this feast but while they waited to meet the
monster.  Yet Theseus breathed no one contradicting word, despite the moment of
silence the King gave him and his companions to object.  When it became clear
the Athenians would not give the court a show, her father commanded his guests
and his court to enjoy the feast.
    After a few moments, Minos turned to her and asked, “What
are your initial thoughts on this batch of tributes?”
    She smiled.  “All but one seem afraid.  The one called
Theseus has the look of one who dare to try his luck at escape.”  She recounted
her observations to her father along with the Athenian’s request to train with
a weapon’s master.  “Perhaps wooden weapons can be delivered to them and they can
practice amongst themselves.”
    Her father chuckled.  “At least one tribute from every group
can be persuaded to switch their allegiances in lieu of meeting the monster.  I
can always use another soldier.”  He paused to sample the wine.  “Make friends
with the tributes.  See if any of them know what this Theseus is planning.”
    “It will be my pleasure, my lord,” she replied.
    Near the midnight hour, when the court spent more time
yawning than eating and chatting amongst themselves, she escorted the tributes
back to the shrine.  She saw the maidens delivered safely to their rooms before
retiring to her own.  The servants helped her into her nightclothes even as
they tried not to yawn in her presence.  Ariadne would have liked to give them
some reward for their hard work but until the last tribute was sent into the
Labyrinth, they all would be closely watched.  There were be time for rest
later, she knew.  She crawled into bed, falling asleep almost as soon as her
head hit the pillow.
    Her dreams that night took her to Naxos, to the camp of the
new god, Dionysus.  Night had made it difficult to see despite several fires
scattered around the site.  The Maenads, the women who followed the god, danced
around several fires to the music played by the satyrs.  Laughter and shouting
echoed above the music.  Ariadne wanted to join them, she wanted to dance
alongside them, and follow the god as he toured the world spreading his cult. 
What would she give to be one of them?  Her vision shifted to the sole fire
without Maenads dancing.  Two figures could be seen around the fire.  One was a
satyr passed out with a large wine flask still in his hands.  The other was a
man dressed in a robe of deep purple and a