Sebastian Hayes

‘Who is he?’ said King Egius. ‘What’s he done?’
‘He won’t give his name, or not to me,’ answered the Chief Councillor.
‘But he claims to have rid the Greek mountains of bandits and finished off Procustus.’
‘Procustus, eh?’ echoed the King.‘Well, there’s a lot of people who’ll be  glad of that. But not me. Without meaning to, Procustus and the bandits in the mountains have been doing us a favour all these years  — they’ve kept undesirables away from Athens. Anyone who’s anyone these days travels by sea. No, I don’t think I want to see this fellow. He may have been sent to assassinate me. Or, more likely, he just wants me to put him up. That sort of person stays one night, then the next and before you know what’s happening he claims to be a long-lost relative.’
‘Well, he does claim —’
‘I know what I’ll do,’ said King Egius interrupting him. ‘The yearly tribute of young men and maidens for the Cretan Labyrinth is due tomorrow. If he really wants to do something for Athens, he can go off and fight the Minotaur.’

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

The next day twelve beautiful young Athenian maidens and thirteen strong youths (counting Egius’s visitor) boarded a ship bound for Crete. The sails were painted black since most people did not expect the passengers to return alive.
‘Who are you?’ the Captain asked the mysterious newcomer.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t reveal my name for the moment.
”Well, we’ve got to call you something. You’re the last to arrive, aren’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘That makes you thirteenth man,’ said the captain. ‘Let that be your name. I wish I’d never let you on board at all.’
But the ship had an uneventful passage to Cnossus.

*                   *                      *                      *                      *

‘What is it, now?’ asked King Egius. ‘Another young man turning up uninvited and expecting me to put him up ? ’
‘No, sir,’ replied the Councillor. ‘But the young man you refused to see left you this.’
The Councillor handed King Egius awooden box.‘What does he want me to do with it   — put it under armed guard?’
‘He wants you to have a look at the contents. He said they would tell you who he is.’
Puzzled, King Egius opened the lid. Inside were a pair of sandals and a short sword.
‘Well, what of it ?’
The Councillor sighed.
‘I think I ought to remind you of certain matters,’ he said wearily.
‘Like what?’
‘In the first place, the kingdom of Athens is without an heir.’
‘Yes, I’m aware of that. That’s one reason why I’ve just got married for the second time.’
‘Yes, sir. But, do you recall the occasion when, on returning from Delphi some twenty years ago, you accepted the hospitality of the King of  Troizen.’
‘Yes, and he got me drunk on his second-rate wine.’
‘Drunk or not, sire, you succeeded in fathering a child on his daughter Aithra.’
‘I vaguely remember something like that. I also remember asking you to hush it all up.’
‘Yes, sire, but you also promised Aithra that if she bore a male child, she was to call him Thyzeus.’
‘Yes, it’s beginning to come back.’
‘She was to bring him up in ignorance of who his father was until he was twenty years old. Then he was  to go to a certain spot and roll away a rock from the mouth of a cave in which you had placed two tokens which he was to bring to you.’
‘Well, yes, there was some sort of arrangement like that. I can’t remember what the tokens were, though — can you?’
‘Yes, sir.’The Councillor pointed to the open box.
‘A pair of sandals and a short sword.’
‘And is there a name engraved on the sword?’
‘Yes. Thyzeus.’

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

In the absence of King Minos, whose whereabouts were unknown and had been for several years, the new arrivals in Crete were taken at once into the presence of Queen Pasiphay.

‘Young men and women of Athens, welcome to Crete !  Do not believe the absurd fables you have heard from the mouth of King Egius. We are an extremely civilized people and our national sport is bull vaulting, not human sacrifice. It is not our fault that we won the recent war — a quite unnecessary  war that was wholly provoked by Athens. However, as it happens, we have a temporary shortage of young women  so the best you Athenians maidens can do is to find young Cretans willing to  marry you as your predecessors did.’
And Queen Pasiphay pointed to several prosperous looking black-haired matrons sitting on a bench to the right looking very pleased with themselves.
‘And, as for you, young men, consider it an honour, and not a punishment, to have the chance to fight the Minotaur. You doubtless know the saying, ‘He who overcomes the Minotaur will be the next King of Athens’. Let this hope guide your swords and may the best man win!’

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

Day after day, over the following two weeks, Thyzeus watched one hopeful after another enter the labyrinth but not one of them returned.

At last Thyzeus’ his turn came. The Gatekeeper, a grizzled veteran of the last Athenian war, told Thyzeus to choose one of an impressive selection of swords. But Thyzeus rejected all of them.
‘What is the matter with these swords?’ asked the Gatekeeper, outraged. ‘They were made by Daedalus, the most famous smith in Greece.’
‘Maybe,’ said Thyzeus. ‘But I don’t like the look of them.’
‘But I cannot allow you into the Cretan Labyrinth without a sword,’ said the Gatekeeper. ‘It is against the rules.’
‘All right,’ said Thyzeus. ‘I’ll make one for myself during the night.’

The next day he returned with a sword made of two pieces of wood roughly nailed together.
‘Call that a sword!’ said the Gatekeeper. ‘Why, you couldn’t kill a mouse with a sword like that, let alone the Minotaur.’
Thyzeus did not reply.
‘All right, but don’t say you haven’t been warned,’ said the Gatekeeper. ‘Now choose a ball of thread.’
The Gatekeeper showed Thyzeus a selection of balls of thread.
‘Why should I need a ball of thread ?’ asked Thyzeus.
‘To stop you getting lost inside the labyrinth !  The ball of thread is on a spindle,’ explained the Gatekeeper. ‘You tie one end to your foot and it unravels as you go. Then you will be able to retrace your steps — if you manage to kill the Minotaur, that is.’
Thyzeus picked up each ball of thread and laid each one down again.
‘But what is wrong with these balls of thread?’ said the Gatekeeper even more outraged.
‘They were made by Arachne herself before she got turned into a spider. They are so strong, you could pull a horse across the ground with one of them and still it would not break.’
‘Maybe. But if they’re as good as that, why hasn’t anyone who’s entered the labyrinth made his way back here again?’
‘But I cannot allow you into the labyrinth without a ball of thread,’ said the Gatekeeper.
‘Queen Pasiphay does not permit it.’
‘All right,’ said Thyzeus. ‘I will make a ball of thread during the night and return with it tomorrow.’
The next day Thyzeus returned with a ball made up of plaited reeds and grasses.
‘And you think a ball of thread like that would save your life in the labyrinth?’ said the Gatekeeper.
‘It would break at the slightest jerk.’Thyzeus said nothing.
‘All right, all right, don’t say you haven’t been warned,’ said the Gatekeeper.
‘When do you want to go in?’
‘Now, if you like,’ said Thyzeus.

The Gatekeeper, shaking his head and muttering to himself, left Thyzeus standing there with a sword of wood in his right hand and one end of the plaited reeds attached to his left foot.
‘Well done!’ said a small girl with dark hair, who had been in the background all the time but whom Thyzeus had not even noticed.
‘You’re the first person I’ve ever heard of who’s refused a sword made by Daedalus or a ball of thread spun by Arachne.’
‘Who are you?’ asked Thyzeus suspiciously.
‘Ariadne. Daughter of the last king of Crete.’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Let’s say I’ve been sent to guide you through the labyrinth.’

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

Thyzeus and Ariadne made their way painfully along the passages cut into the mountainside. Sometimes they had to crouch to get any further. At set intervals a flaming torch fixed to the wall gave a little light. From time to time they came to crossroads and Ariadne, without a moment’s thought, chose one of several exactly similar pathways.

‘Where exactly are we going?’ asked Thyzeus.
‘To the Minotaur’s lair, of course.’
‘But isn’t it almost as difficult getting there as coming out alive?’
‘No,’ said Ariadne. ‘The Minotaur’s lair is close to the Centre of the World and all paths lead to it eventually, so it doesn’t really matter which one you take. But this is the most direct route.’

After what seemed to Thyzeus like hours or days of walking the pair came to a much larger cave with torches on all the walls. A huge signpost with hundreds of branches stood in the centre. The arm pointing back the way they had come was marked CRETE, another one was marked ATHENS, yet another SPARTA, another PERSEPOLIS.

‘Where’s DELHI?’ asked Thyzeus.
‘It’s in the east, the far east.’
‘And ROME ?’
‘It’s just a village at present. But the whole world will hear about it quite soon.’
‘And PARIS ?’
‘It doesn’t exist yet. You see, you can get to anywhere at all from the World Centre, past, present or future — though in some cases you may have to walk for a long time.’
‘How long is long?’
‘Sometimes centuries.’
‘Well, which way is it to the Minotaur?’
Ariadne pointed to one arm of the signpost which said BEWARE OF THE MINOTAUR.
‘I’ll wait for you here. Good luck.’

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

And Thyzeus, still with the ball of plaited reeds attached to his left foot and holding his wooden sword in his right hand advanced along the passage. He soon came to an open area with an iron grill at one end, dimly lit. He felt a slight pull at his left foot, telling him that he had reached the full extent of the ball of plaited reds and grasses. Looking around, he saw several skeletons in the corners and what he took to be bodies that had not long been dead. There was a horrible stench. One or two bats were flying around aimlessly.

Then, suddenly, the grill raised itself automatically, and a strange creature with the body of a man but the face of a gigantic bull, holding a large round shield in one hand and brandishing an axe with the other, bore down on him. Thyzeus side-stepped, avoiding the axe blow, and swung his wooden sword at the creature who parried it with its iron shield and tried to swing at him again with the axe. Thyzeus evaded the axe blows and lunged forward, pushing the sharpened point of his wooden sword into one of the creature’s eyes. Sparks flew out and the monster moved backwards two steps. Thyzeus rushed forward in pursuit and, in so doing, he broke the thread tied to his left foot. The creature kept on moving backwards as if on a set track until it was once more behind the iron grill which came down with a crash, imprisoning both Thyzeus with the Minotaur.
Thyzeus threw away his sword, trusting to his own strength. He seized the monster by the throat and threw it onto the ground. He was surprised to find that its body was cold to the touch — as cold as a piece of iron. Once on the ground, it shook convulsively, then finally lay still.
‘Looks like it’s dead,’ said Thyzeus out loud.
Examining it, he saw that it was not an animal at all, just bits of metal and leather glued  together.

‘Well done!’ said a voice.Thyzeus looked up, startled.
‘So someone has finally killed the Minotaur — I never thought I would live to see the day.’
There against the rock face some way off was an old man with hair nearly down to his waist, attached to the wall of the cave by several long, thick, heavy chains. Alongside him on a table were various scrolls on which he had been drawing diagrams and making calculations.
‘Who on earth are you?’ asked Thyzeus.
‘I am the unfortunate Daedalus,’ said the old man, ‘you must have heard of me.’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I used to be court engineer at Cnossus and made the Minotaur as a toy for the amusement of  Queen Pasiphay,’ continued the old man. ‘But when I found out, seven years ago, that she was responsible for the death of King Minos, she sent me here to keep company with my greatest creation.’
‘So, you’re responsible for the deaths of all these youths, is that it? Maybe I ought to kill you as well.’
‘The Minotaur’s movements are planned in advance,’ explained Daedalus. ‘I could not stop him attacking you even if I had wanted to.’
‘Why didn’t anyone before me overcome the Minotaur?’ asked Thyzeus.
‘Because, on the orders of Queen Pasiphay, I fitted out the Minotaur  with a magnetic shield and every fighter’s sword got stuck to it. Even Hercules himself could not have torn it away. But for some reason you had a sword made of wood.’

Thyzeus looked all round the dismal cave.
‘How have you managed to exist here all these years?’ asked Thyzeus.
The old man pointed to a metal track on the ground meandering across the cave floor and ending up alongside him.
‘Food and drink are sent in to me once a day.’
Before Daedalus had finished speaking, a flap of leather, built into the cave wall and invisible up to then, raised itself up, there was a sudden burst of steam and a peculiar contraption fitted with wheels and pulling a metal tray behind it, came into view. It moved along the metal track eventually stopping directly in front of Daedalus. On the tray was a wooden bowl with some bread and olives, also a large jug  of water.

Daedalus gestured to Thyzeus to help himself.
‘Don’t they send you in any wine?’ asked Thyzeus.
‘Unfortunately not. I have a little that I keep in reserve for special occasions. Maybe later…’
‘But what’s all this?’ asked Thyzeus pointing to the metal track and the metal contraption.
‘The rail-road!’ said Daedalus.  ‘The transport system of the future!’
‘What gets it going?’ asked Thyzeus.
For answer, Daedalus poured some of the water back into the contraption, fiddled with a lever and, after a few moments, the contraption moved backwards along the track, puffing and giving out steam, entered the leather flap and disappeared from view.
‘Steam has more strength than ten horses,’ said Daedalus. ‘The day will come when we will not need human slaves because mechanical ones will do the work for us instead.’
‘Who invented that thing?’
‘I did,’ said the old man. ‘With some help from my son.’
Thyzeus reflected on all this.
‘But if you’re so clever, how come you can’t escape from here?’
‘I am an engineer and not a wizard,’ said Daedalus with dignity. ‘I harness powers that already exist, I do not invent them.’

After Daedalus had finished eating, he shook his body and all of the heavy chains fell off him, except one.
‘I have already filed through all but one of these chains. But even if I managed to file through the last, it would do me no good, for after seven years sitting here, I would never be able to walk out of the labyrinth.’
‘Well, it looks like you’ve had it then,’ said Thyzeus.
‘Maybe,’ replied Daedalus. ‘But maybe not.’
And the old man pulled on a projecting piece of metal to his right.The lever activated a complicated system of pulleys reaching right up to the roof of the cave. To Thyzeus’ astonishment a panel slid back to reveal a blue expanse.
‘Is that the sky?’ asked Thyzeus.
‘It is,’ replied the prisoner. ‘The same sky as there is above Athens, and above Crete.’
‘And are those real birds?’ Thyzeus said pointing to distant dark shapes moving around high above.
‘They are real. I know that because sometimes they fall in here — that is one reason why I keep the skylight closed.’
Thyzeus shook his head, not sure what to make of all this.

‘Well, if I cannot be of any further use to you,’ said Thyzeus eventually, ‘maybe I should try to escape from here myself.
’Wait!’ and the prisoner held up his hand.‘There is someone I want you to meet.’
And the old man pointed upwards to the sky.
‘Your son can fly like a bird, is that it?’ said Thyzeus, wondering if the old man’s long imprisonment had not finally affected his mind.
‘Why not?’ answered Daedalus. ‘If birds can move about in the air, why should not we? In future years flight will seem no stranger than crossing the sea.’
At that very moment a great bird swooped down and alighted on the edge of the moveable panel on the roof. To Thyzeus’ astonishment it turned into a young man of roughly his age who unclipped his two large wings and jumped down into the cave holding a large package in his hands.

‘Let me introduce you,’ said Daedalus. ‘This is my son, Icarus. And this is….?’
‘Thyzeus,’ said Thyzeus. And the two shook hands.
‘I think I saw you at Cnossus,’ said the new arrival. ‘Why are you not dead?’
‘Because he had a sword of wood and a ball of thread that broke at the first jolt,’ Daedalus answered for him.
‘Very clever,’ said Icarus, genuinely impressed.
‘Is the Minotaur, then, no more?’
Daedalus nodded.
‘I was lucky,’ said Thyzeus modestly.
‘Nonetheless…’ said Icarus.

‘But,’ he added, turning from Thyzeus to his father, ‘there is not a moment to lose. Queen Pasiphay knows that I am plotting something — she surprised me in my workshop and caught sight of your pair of wings. I had to make a quick exit. Fortunately the wings are now complete,’ and he opened up the package to show his father.
His father examined them.‘I couldn’t have done a better job myself,’ he said.
‘There’s no time for a trial run,’ said Icarus. ‘We must leave no later than tonight. Queen Pasiphay will have already sent soldiers into the labyrinth with orders to kill you.’
‘A pity you didn’t bring a third pair of wings,’ said Thyzeus. ‘I need to get out of here myself.’
‘Do you think it is child’s play making a pair of wings?’ said Icarus disdainfully. ‘Only my father could have designed them and they took me two years to make.’
‘I could kill you both and steal your wings,’ said Thyzeus.
‘It would do you no good,’ laughed Icarus, not at all put out. ‘You do not know how to fly. But instead of talking, why not do something useful?’
And Icarus brought out a very long file, giving one end to Thyzeus. Together they moved back and forth until they had filed right through the last link of the chain holding Daedalus to the wall.
‘Liberty at last !’ said Daedalus shaking off the last chain. ‘Who knows, maybe I shall miss this dungeon once I am gone from here. After all, it has been my home for seven years.’

‘Do not think of that,’ said Icarus and he disappeared into the back of the cave, returning with a pitcher full of red wine and three beakers. He solemnly poured out some wine into the three beakers, handed two of them to Thyzeus and Daedalus and poured some of the rest of the wine onto the ground.
‘Who’s that for ?’ asked Thyzeus.
‘The Minotaur,’ laughed Icarus. ‘The monster that never was.’
‘Until we three meet again !’ said Thyzeus raising his beaker.
Daedalus and Icarus touched it with theirs.
‘Except we never shall,’ said Icarus.‘Why not?’ asked Thyzeus. ‘Try to look on the bright side of things.’
‘If we return to Crete, we are dead men,’ said Daedalus. ‘Even the creator of the Minotaur and his son cannot fight against hundreds.’
‘So what do you intend to do?’ asked Thyzeus.
‘As for me, I aim to fly across the sea to Sicily,’ said Daedalus. ‘I know the king there and he will be glad to engage me as Court engineer.’
‘I don’t trust him,’ said Icarus. ‘He may turn out to be no better than Queen Pasiphay.’
‘Where are you going, then?’ asked Thyzeus.
‘Me?’ said Icarus. ‘I am going to a place where there are no wars, no one ever gets ill or grows old and no one dies. I shall never stop flying until I reach Olympus.’
Daedalus shook his head.
‘I have warned you, my son, that the higher you fly the stronger will the sun’s rays be. The heat will melt the wax that holds the feathers together and you will fall to the ground long before you reach Olympus.’
‘We shall see,’ said Icarus raising his beaker. ‘What about you?’
‘I?’ said Thyzeus. ‘I suppose I shall return to Athens and claim my reward.  It seems that at my birth it was foretold that I would be the next King of Athens.’
‘Who knows who has made the best choice?’ said Icarus filling up the three beakers once more.
And since, in Greece, it is bad luck to wish someone good luck and good luck to wish someone bad luck, they each of them spoke with this in mind.
‘May you get lost in the interminable windings of the labyrinth!’ said Icarus to Thyzeus.
‘May your strength fail so that you can no longer move your wings!’ said Thyzeus to Daedalus.
‘And may the wax on your wings melt!’ said Daedalus to his son.
The two Cretans strapped on their wings, climbed up onto the roof and threw themselves into the air. Thyzeus watched them until they were no bigger than distant seagulls, and then turned to make his way back to the Signpost at the Centre of the World.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

But when Thyzeus reached the Signpost at the Centre of the World, Ariadne was nowhere to be seen.
He stood there wondering what path to take, staring stupidly at the thread of broken reeds and grasses.Suddenly, he felt a hand at his mouth pulling him back into the shadows.
‘What the —‘
‘Ssssh!’ said Ariadne.
In the distance, magnified by the cave walls, came the sound of tramping feet.A band of soldiers in full armour marching in step appeared from the direction of Crete. Their Captain examined the signposts and beckoned to his men.
‘Follow me!’ and he strode down the pathway marked BEWARE OF THE MINOTAUR.
‘We must get out of here at once,’ said Ariadne.
‘Yes, I agree. But where should we go ?’
‘It doesn’t really matter — anywhere but Crete. I’ve got a rendez-vous, you’d better come with me,’ said Ariadne pointing to an arm of the giant signpost which said  NAXOS.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

A few hours walking later Ariadne and Thyzeus emerged from the darkness of a cave onto the sunlit sands and bent pines of Naxos.
‘I have been waiting for you all afternoon,’ said a perfumed, half bearded young man in spotless linen garments leaning against a tree.
‘I thought you must have lost your way inside the labyrinth.’
‘Oh no,’ said Ariadne going up to him and kissing him on the mouth. ‘I know my way about the labyrinth better than I know you.’
‘Is this the slayer of the Minotaur?’ asked the Persian looking youth in a bored voice.
‘Yes,’ replied Ariadne.
‘Congratulations, ’ said the Persian youth.
‘I’m afraid you’ll have to make your own way back from here,’ Ariadne said to Thyzeus. ‘You can hire a boat in the harbour.’
‘I’ve no doubt I can,’ answered Thyzeus. ‘But I had hoped that after all we’ve lived through we could spend at least one or two nights together. After all, I killed the Minotaur.’
‘Tell him,’ the Persian youth said to Ariadne.
‘I’m afraid we don’t belong to the same level of reality,’ said Ariadne. ‘You may be a hero but I’m an immortal’.
‘And I may not look like a god, but, for all that, I am one, believe me,’ said the Persian youth.
‘And I can turn nasty,’ he added.
Ariadne looked up at her companion questioningly.
In answer the Persian looking youth tossed a couple of gold coins onto the ground.
‘For your passage,’ he said.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

Back at Cnossus, reports of the end of the Minotaur and Daedalus’ amazing escape leaked out.
‘But there’s no news of thirteenth man,’ said a sailor on the ship that had brought Thyzeus to Crete and was about to make the return voyage.
‘He must have died fighting the Minotaur,’ said another sailor.
‘He’s a hero!’ said someone else.
‘Come on, come on,’ shouted the Captain striding onto the ship. ‘We haven’t got all day.’
‘Do we hoist the black sails or the white?’ a member of the crew asked.
The captain hadn’t thought about this.
‘White sails,’ said one sailor. ‘The Minotaur’s dead, isn’t he?’
‘Yes, but all the young men are dead including thirteenth man,’ said another.
‘I say black sails.’
In the end, the crew decided on a compromise. The sails were white on the front side, black on the back.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

King Egius sat on a high rock anxiously waiting for the ship from Crete.
‘I can’t see anything in this mist, can you?’ he said to his Councillor.
As he was speaking the ship from Crete went by. But then the mist began to clear.
‘What colour are the sails?’ asked King Egius.
‘White,’ lied the Councillor.~
‘They’re not,’ said King Egius, ‘I can see that for myself now. They’re black as the night when my only son was conceived, and black as my own ingratitude.’
‘Watch where you’re going,’ said the Councillor.
But it was too late. King Egius in despair had thrown himself into the sea — which is why it is even now called the Aegean.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

Thyzeus bought a passage and eventually arrived back at Athens where he found everything in confusion.
‘King Egius did not leave an heir,’ someone in the street explained.
‘Isn’t there anyone suitable?’ asked Thyzeus.‘No. There’s some talk about a mysterious young man who left a box with the late King before he went off to Crete.’
‘Was he the one who killed the Minotaur?’ asked Thyzeus.
‘So they say. They call him thirteenth man. But he must have died in the attempt.’
‘I’d say he’s still alive,’ said Thyzeus.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *
In the end the Councillor asked any young men who claimed the throne of Athens to come forward and tell him what was in a certain wooden box.Twelve young men presented themselves. At the last moment Thyzeus arrived and was made to wait outside the judgment room.
One young man, confronted with the box, said, ‘Gold’, another ‘Rubies’, another ‘Laurels’ and so it went on.
‘A pair of sandals and a short sword,’ said the twelfth youth.
‘A lucky guess,’ said Thyzeus marching in when he heard this.
The Councillor looked up.
‘Ask him to tell you what name’s written on the blade,’ said Thyzeus.
The Councillor looked at the young man. He could not reply.
‘We’ve met before,’ Thyzeus said to the Councillor. ‘The name’s Thyzeus.’
‘Yes. I remember you now. That’s the name on the blade all right.’
‘What do you want me to do with these pretenders?’ asked the Councillor. ‘Put them to death?
‘No,’ answered Thyzeus. ‘I don’t want to start my reign with murders. Send them to work in the kitchens, something like that.’
‘Very well.’The Councillor walked out onto the balcony and addressed the assembled crowd.
‘King Egius is dead. Long live King Thyzeus!’
‘Long live King Thyzeus’, thousands of voices roared back.

Sebastian Hayes

Note : The illustration at the beginning is by Lisa Lennon.  This story is part of a collection of tales to be issued later this year entitled “The Foundling and Other Stories” (new edition) with illustrations by Lisa Lennon. S.H.