Authors: Mary Renault
Two were drawn from Athens; and then I heard the name of one of my Guard, a lad called Menesthes, whose father was the master of seven ships. He went out firmly, only looking back once at his friend and once at me. Next came an Athenian, whose mother made an outcry as if she were being torn in pieces, so that the boy went white, and trembled all over. I thought, "Mine would never have disgraced me so. But it is my father I should be thinking of. It is worse for him that for most of them, seeing he has no more sons." I looked over to the dais where he was standing. The Priest of Poseidon was just putting his hand in to draw again. At that same moment, there was some stir in the crowd, a woman fainting or some such matter. I saw my father look aside, to see what it was.
Stillness fell on me, as if Helios drew rein in the midst of heaven. If a man could prevent knowledge before he has it, I would not have known. But it was there, before I could forbid it. From ten years old, I had sat in the hall of judgment, looking at people. Before I could understand the cause, I knew already who was concerned and who was not. I looked at the line of eyes, fixed on the urn, all together like the soldiers' javelins. But my father was not afraid.
It came home to me slowly, creeping on the heart. My belly and loins grew cold; shame seemed to coat my very flesh, like a skin of dust. My mind ran to and fro, coursing a rank scent. "What was on the lot he dropped in for me? Not a blank; someone might see it. Some other youth has been given a second chance. Perhaps he is drawn already; I shall never know."
So I thought. Then anger leaped on me like a storm-wave, drumming in my head and shaking my body, so that I was almost mad. I stared out before me, and saw on a high dais a man wearing a kingly robe and necklace. And it seemed I looked upon my enemy, on a stranger who had spat in my face before the people; my fingers longed for his throat, as they had for Kerkyon's while we wrestled for the kingdom.
I stood half out of my wit, with Night's Daughters black about my head, clapping their wings of bronze. And then Apollo, Slayer of Darkness, came and freed me. He took the shape of the youth beside me, who touched my shoulder saying, "Theseus, steady."
The red cleared from my eyes. I could speak, and answered, "These Cretans make me angry." Then I could think.
I thought, "What was it? What has my father done? What every father here would do if he could. And he is King. He has to think for the kingdom. It is true enough that I am needed here. I ought not to think like a warrior only. Has someone else gone to Crete for me? I have led such lads to war, and never thought I wronged them, though some were sure to die. Why then do I hate my father, and myself still more, and feel I cannot bear my life?"
Meanwhile a lot had been called; it fell on Amyntor, a high-born Eleusinian, wild and proud. Unlike the last boy or because of him, he came out gaily, waving to friends and joking. The priest made ready to draw again.
"What hurts me?" I thought. "What is this anger?" I looked at my father; and remembered how he had invoked Poseidon, praying him to choose the victims. And I thought, "Yes! That is it! He has mocked the god, the guardian of the house, who brought him to beget me. Well may I be angry! This man has mocked my father."
Now I understood myself.
I could not speak the thing aloud to the god, for all the people to know it. So I kneeled on one knee, and set my hands on the earth, and whispered so that only he could hear. "Earth-Shaker! Father! If you have been robbed of any offering, tell me, and show me what to give."
I waited, to feel if the earth would tremble; but the dust under my palms was still. Yet I knew he had a message for me, and did not want me to go away. So I bowed my head lower, till my hair trailed in the dust; and then he spoke to me. I heard, as if it rose from the depths of earth, the sound of the sea-surge, waves that mounted and broke in hissing foam, and their sound said, "The-seus! The-seus!"
Then I knew what the god was asking.
It was like a spear in the heart. I had come here to take a chance of one in thirty. Now when I saw before me the certain thing, sorrow fell black upon my eyes and the sun grew cold. I thought of what I had planned to do in Athens: small things I had hoped to force my father's hand to, great ones when my own time came. I knelt where I was, with my hanging hair hiding my face and my name sounding in my ears, and thought of my life; of hunting with the Guard, of feasts and dances, of my room with the lion walls; of a woman I wanted, and had meant to speak to at the festival; of my beautiful horses, who had scarcely felt my hand; of the war paean, the bright rage of battle, and the triumph song. And I thought, "The god cannot mean, it. He sent me here to be King."
"Father Poseidon," I whispered, "take something else from me. I will not ask to live long, if I can make a name and be remembered in Athens. Now it will be as if I had never been born. If you want my life, let me die here in battle, and leave some record, a bard's song and a tomb." I heard the name called of some Athenian. It was the last of the seven. "Lord Poseidon, I will give you my horses, the best I ever had. Take anything but this."
The sea-sound grew fainter in my ears. I thought, "He will accept the horses." Yet it was not fading as always before, dying in air, but with a long sound of withdrawal, ebbing and slow. And I thought, "The god is leaving me."
I listened. It had a note that said, "Do as you please, son of Aigeus. Look, there is your father. Forget my voice, which you will not hear again, and learn to reign as he does. Be free. You are not mine, unless you choose."
I looked back at my life, as far as my childhood. "It is too late," I thought, "to be Aigeus' son."
I got up, and threw the hair back from my face. The last-drawn boy was being fetched out. He had not come of himself, being afraid; now as they led him off, he kept looking about, as if he could believe in this happing to anyone but him. "He will be surprised," I thought, "when he finds he is right." I almost laughed; for I had felt the god return to me.
My heart had lightened. It felt secure, as on a lucky day. I breathed bright air. The threat had lifted, the bronze wings and talons hovering to pounce. Fear fell back from me; all was well with me; I walked with the god. As I went forward, an old man's voice said in my memory, "The consenting sets one free."
I walked with a light step to the dais, and leaped upon it, and said to the herald, "Give me that last lot."
He gave it. There was a voice speaking my name, but I kept my face turned away. Drawing my dagger I crossed out the name scratched on the sherd, and wrote "Theseus." I gave it back to the herald, and said, "Call again."
He stared. A hand I knew reached over and snatched it away. So I shouted to the Cretan, "That call was wrong, Captain. The name on the lot is mine."
A noise began among the crowd. I thought they were going to cheer again. But instead I heard a great wail of mourning, lamenting to heaven, as when the herald cries that the King is dead. I did not know what to do with these sounds of grief. In my heart was a solemn music. As I stepped out toward them, a hand clutched at me, but I shook it off, and called aloud to them, "Don't grieve, Athenians. The god is sending me. He has called me to the bulls, and I must obey his sign. But don't weep for me. I will come again." I did not know these words till I had spoken them; they came to me from the god. "I will go with your children, and take them into my hand. They shall be my people."
They had left off weeping, and their voices sank to a hush; only here and there you could still hear some mother sobbing, whose child had gone. I turned, and faced my father.
I saw the face of a man who has got his death-wound. It was like the shape of a frightful dream, from which one has thought to waken. And yet, as if his eyes mirrored my own, he too looked like a haunted man who has shaken off the pursuer.
He suffered, that at least was sure, and it broke from him in anger. With no care who heard, he asked me why I should hate him, and abandon him in his last years to his enemies; how had he wronged me; what had he done? It must be witchcraft, he said; he would have me exorcised, and what I had done in madness should be annulled.
"Sir," I said, "do you think I would have done this of myself? I know the voice of Poseidon. You must let me go, or he will be angry. It is bad dealing, to rob a god."
When he looked away, I was ashamed. He suffered enough already. "Father," I said, "the god means good to us. Everything is well. If the bulls kill me, he will accept the sacrifice, and take off the curse. And if I come home again, that will be good too. All is well; I feel it."
The Cretan Captain was edging up to listen. My father gave him a look that made him move off, humming and playing with his wrist-seal. Then he said quietly, "It seems no man can outrun his fate. How did you know your name was not in the bowl?" Our eyes met. Then he said, "I could not do it. I fancied men saying for ever after, 'He feared his son, who was a leader and a warrior. So at tribute-time, he sent him to the bulls of Crete.' "
His words amazed me, that such a thing should have crossed his mind. "Father," I said, "it must be the Goddess. She is angry with us; she hates all men who rule."
I heard a cough near by. It was the Cretan, getting impatient. It came to me that now by my own act this man was my master.
I unslung my sword, and put it into my father's hands. "Keep it for me," I said, "until I come again. What the god wants me for, I do not know. But if a man came back from the bulls of Minos, he would have offered his life many times for the god to take, and many times renewed his dedication. Then perhaps some power might come to him, to lead the people. So I was taught, while I was a child. I will be such a king as that, or else I will be nothing."
He came near and took my face between his hands, and looked in it long. It was seldom I thought of him as a priest. But now I felt it. He said at last, "Such a king will be King." Then he paused in thought, and said, "If that day comes, paint the sail of your ship with white. I shall post a lookout on Sounion Head. When his beacon burns, the god will have a message for me. A white sail. Remember."
"My lord," said the Cretan in his high cool voice, "it is all one to me whether your son comes or not, provided there is no disorder. But kindly settle the matter now. These women will be tearing each other's eyes out."
I looked round. The mothers of the chosen youths were disputing which of their sons should be released in place of me. Their menfolk were coming up; he was right in fearing trouble.
"There is nothing to dispute," I said. "The last lot carries my name. Herald, proclaim it."
The last-drawn boy came up and knelt and put my hand to his brow, and begged to do me some service. He seemed a poor creature. I looked past his shoulder, and saw Bias weeping. He had more sense than any of the Companions; but I saw in his face a tale he had never told me. There was nothing to do but take his hand.
"Father," I said, "let the Eleusinians have their own Assembly, unless the women try to seize power again. Everything is in order."
I had not finished; but the Cretan had had enough. He yapped at his troops, sharp as a dog-fox, and they formed a hollow column, all stepping in line, a wonder to see. My father embraced me; I felt from his touch that he never looked to see me more. The mothers of the victims were bringing little bundles of food, put up in haste for the voyage. The last boy's mother came up shyly, bobbing with hand on brow, and gave his bundle to me. " As I fell in line, I remember thinking I would have looked a better suit out, if I had known I was going to Crete.
BOOK 4 CRETE
1
"I was a king and a king's heir," I thought as the ship cast her moorings. "Now I am a slave."
She was a big ship. The figurehead was a bull, with a flower on his brow and gilded horns. Amidships between the rowers were the black soldiers; there was a bridge for the rowing-master, and for the Captain's chair. We victims lived on the afterdeck, and had an awning to sleep under, just as if we had paid our passage. We belonged to the god, and had to be brought unspoiled. There was a guard all day on us, and a double guard all night, to see no one lay with the girls.
It was a time of pause with me. I had passed from my own keeping. I lay in the god's hand, as once in boyhood, cradled on the sea. Dolphins raced along with us, diving under the waves, and blowing "Phoo!" through their foreheads. I lay and watched them. My life was still.
South of Sounion a warship, a fast pentekonter, took us in convoy. Sometimes on island headlands we saw pirate camps; the beached ships and the lookout tower; but none put out after us. We were bigger game than they had teeth for.
These things passed by me while I took my ease as one who hears the harper. "I am going to sacrifice," I told myself. "But Poseidon claimed me, who once was no man's son; and that is mine for ever."
So I sprawled in the sun, and ate and slept and watched the sights, and heard unheeding the sounds of shipboard. Morning broke rose and gray as we threaded the Cyclades. About sunup I heard angry voices. There are many on a ship; we were passing between Kia and Kythnos, and there were things to see. Yet the sound drew tugging at me, and made me look. One of the Athenian boys was fighting an Eleusinian. They rolled grappling on the deck; the Captain was strolling up the bridge toward them, with weary eyelids, like a man who has done this a hundred times. A thin-lashed whip was looped in his hand.
It woke me like mountain water. I took a running leap on them, and pulled them apart. They sat gaping and rubbing bruises; the Captain shrugged and walked away.
"Remember yourselves," I said. "Do you want to be beaten by a Cretan, before those slaves? Where is your pride?" They both began speaking at once, with the onlookers taking sides, I shouted for silence, and saw thirteen pairs of eyes all fixed on me. There was a check in my mind, and I thought, "What now?" It was like reaching for your sword when your side is bare. "What am I doing?" I thought. "I am a slave myself. Can there be a king among victims?" The words echoed in my head.