Dark of the Moon

THESEUS

chapter 23

I KNOW from the first moment I see the Minotauros that I have nothing to fear from him. He's very tall and hideously ugly, but really he's nothing more than a child in a misshapen body. He seems painfully lonely and bored. The people who attend him wait until he's asleep to leave his food and to empty the bucket that he uses (badly) for relieving himself. He grins, showing crooked teeth, when I first come down to his dark, smelly chamber. I keep an eye on him, but I soon relax.

His sister, Ariadne, is quite different. She's small, and like all the Kretan women I've seen, she has black hair hanging in waves almost to her waist. She is not merely pale, like the rest of the noblewomen here; she has an unhealthy pallor. Her face looks, I think, like the mushrooms that appear in the deep forest after rain and glow against the dark earth. I understand that she rarely sets foot out of doors.

Her eyes are her most striking features. They're large, and so dark that the pupil is invisible in their depths, and long black lashes form a fringe around them. She is not pretty, but in an odd way she is beautiful.

I haven't admitted it to Prokris, but her plan now makes me uneasy. It was different when we were on the ship, sailing who knew where, with a hideous monster waiting to eat me on the other shore. It seemed logical then that once Prokris was established as queen, we would somehow kill the monster, liberate the Kretan people, and take over the country. She promised that she would marry me in exchange for my help, and I would become the island's ruler.

She never doubted that she would become the king's favorite wife, and indeed, the Minos does seem fond of her. But we were wrong about the rest of it. The Minos is not a king. He is the chief priest and some kind of lawgiver, but he is the subject of his sister, and she is the human incarnation of the moon goddess. Prokris can't make such a claim. She's obviously a mere woman, a mortal.

I have also found out that the people here are not ruled by fear of the Minotauros. They call him "our monster" with an air of pride. Most of them, anyway. Killing him wouldn't cause a great outpouring of gratitude and support. We certainly wouldn't be liberating anybody.

Prokris is very daring and manages to slip out of the women's quarters frequently, mostly because she has charmed the eunuchs who serve as the Minos's guards. One day, we sit in the crook of a tall cypress just outside the wall. Prokris likes being up this high. She can see into the compound where the Minos lives with his wives and children.

"They took all my things," she says. "Those women went through my bags and chests and took away my clothes and everything else I brought. They sneered and said they were fit only for barbarians. Imagine, these people calling Athenians barbarians!"

I'm about to agree, when I realize what she's said. "All your things? What about my sword?"

"They took that, too." She sounds glum but not alarmed. "Don't worry; they don't know you brought it. I said Aegeus had given it to me as a parting gift. They gave it to the Minos."

I suddenly feel vulnerable. It's not like I actually had the sword in my possession, but knowing that Prokris had possession of it had given me a sense of security.

"They did let me keep my wedding dress," she goes on. "But they took it away after the ceremony, and I think they cut it up and divided the fabric among themselves. The Minos didn't seem to care, but the women were just vicious."

Prokris tells me that Ariadne thinks she'll be a goddess one day. "She's mad," she asserts.

"Completely mad," I agree. But I wonder.

"It just isn't natural for this whole island to be governed by a woman," Prokris says. "Once you show them what a real ruler is like, a real king, they'll come to our side. How could they not?"

I understand her reasoning. A woman can't command an army—no soldier would take orders issued in a female's high voice—and the tasks that women are good at, spinning and weaving and tending to babies, take all their time. Still, I hesitate. The fields of Krete are fertile, and the trade ships stop here regularly, leaving all sorts of goods and departing heavy-laden with limestone and precious saffron. Tribute comes in punctually from the many subject lands. No one seems to fear attack. The maze of storerooms under the palace, except where Ariadne's befuddled brother spends his lonely days, is bursting with grain that the queen doles out evenhandedly to her subjects. They are well fed and seem happy.

My status here is unclear, now that it's become obvious that Ariadne's brother isn't going to eat me. I don't know if I'm an honored guest, a playmate for the Minotauros, a slave, or something else. I don't even know if they'd let me go if I asked, so I don't ask.

Prokris dismisses my concerns and counsels patience. "I'll be able to tell when the time is right," she promises. "You continue charming the little princess, and I'll lull the old man into trusting me completely. I'll know when it's time to move."

So I wait, trapped in her schemes.