The King Must Die (27 page)

Meantime Lukos had been talking to the man with the cat, whom I now heard saying, "Yes, yes, no doubt; but does it signify much? These mainland kings breed like conies; I daresay he has fifty." Lukos said, "But this one is legitimate. More than that, the heir... Certainly I am sure; you should have heard the scene. And what is more, he came of his own desire. An offering to Poseidon, so I understand."

A young woman, with large doe's eyes painted to look larger, said, "Is it really true, then, that the mainland kings still immolate themselves? Just like the old songs? What it must be, to be a man and travel, and see these wild savage places! Tell me, which is the prince?" A friend lifted to her mouth her peacock fan, and whispered, "You can see."

They both slanted their blue-lashed eyes, and then looked down. I began to notice that whereas these ladies looked at the girls, and spoke of them, as if they were already dead, toward us men they were not quite the same. I believe, on that first day, I wondered why.

Two of the men had just walked round us to stare their fill, not lewdly like the gamblers, but coolly, as if we were horses. I heard one say, "It passes me why Lukos put on this show. If he had kept quiet till the bidding, he might have had a chance himself." The other said, "Never; he's not the only one who knows form. It must be something to him to be talked about; or he would have sold the news, we all know where." The first man looked round, and said dropping his voice, "No one from the Little Palace. If he is the last to hear, Lukos will be sorry." The other, without speaking, raised his brows and moved his eyes. I followed their glance.

Another chair was coming; or, rather, a kind of car. Two great oxen drew it, whose horns were painted crimson and tipped with gold. A tooled leather canopy on four poles shaded a thronelike chair, in which sat a man.

He was very dark; not russet like the native Cretans, but greenish-dark like the ripe olive; and as thick as a bullock. His neck was no narrower than his head, and only a line of blue-black beard marked off one from the other. Coarse oiled black curls hung on his low brow; his nose was broad, with wide black nostrils. One would have said a beastlike face, only the thick mouth was a mouth that thought. And the eyes told nothing. They only stared, while behind them the man seemed making ready to do what he would do. They put me in mind of something seen long ago, which I could not recall.

The chair came up and the servant who led the oxen stopped them. The court people made graceful salutations, touching their finger-tips to their brows; the man's answer was rough and careless, hardly more than wagging a finger. He did not get down, but beckoned, and Lukos came up bowing. I could just catch their words.

"Well, Lukos, I hope you have pleased yourself today. If you thought to please me, you are a greater fool than you look."

From a chief among warriors, it would have been nothing much. But after all the fine manners and courtly speech, it came like a savage beast breaking in among people who were afraid of it. They had all drawn back, lest they should seem to listen.

Lukos was saying, "My lord, no one here knows anything. This show in the harbor, the boys and girls put up themselves, for sport. People thought I trained them, so I said nothing, and kept the truth for you. There is more here than they think."

He nodded as if saying openly, "Well, you may be lying, or perhaps not." Then he ran his eye along us, while Lukos whispered in his ear. Amyntor, who was near me, said, "Is this Minos himself, do you think?" I looked again, and raised my brows. "He? Never. The house is Hellene. Besides, that is not a king."

As these words left me, I heard all the twittering voices sink, like bird song before a storm. We had stood there so long, being talked of like cattle without understanding, I had forgotten we could be understood ourselves. The man had heard.

The courtiers looked as scared as if I had thrown a thunderbolt among them, which they must pretend not to see. I thought, "What is all this to-do? Either the man is King, or he is not." Then I saw his eyes on me, large staring eyes that bulged a little. And I remembered where I had seen them; they were like the eyes of the Palace bull at Troizen, just before he put down his head to charge.

"What have I done?" I thought. "That old woman at home was right to call me a meddler. I was resolved to get us talked of here, and what has come of it? This brute, who can clearly have what he wants, now wants to own us; the worst master in Knossos, without a doubt. This is what comes of presuming; I should have left everything to the god." And I began to wonder how I could get us out of it.

Just then he stepped down from his chair. From his bulk I had expected him to stand six feet or more; but he was hardly the common height of a Hellene, so short were his thick legs for his trunk. As he got nearer, I felt something about him that gave me gooseflesh. It was more than his ugliness, or his wicked look; as it might have been something against nature.

He began to walk round us, and to look us over. He handled the boys like a steward buying meat; but with the girls he was shameless, in spite of the people watching; I saw he thought himself above their opinion. Melantho was angry, which pleased him; Helike, who I suppose had had things to put up with in her calling, stood in silent scorn; Nephele winced, which made him laugh and slap her bottom. Watching him draw near Chryse, who was my darling of all the girls, I said to her quietly, "Don't be frightened. You belong to the god." His eye slewed round at me; and I saw he was leaving me to the last.

To seem careless, I looked away; and my eye fell on a litter that had not been there before. It had been set down on its feet not far away; but the curtains of thick rich stuff were still close-drawn. One of the bearers was fetching Lukos over. He went at once, bowing low before it, and setting his clenched hand to his brow in the salutation we use for gods. The curtains parted, a little crack that showed nothing; though I could hear no voice, someone within was speaking, for, to hear better, he sank down and knelt with one knee in the dust.

At this I expected the rest to do some homage. But after one glance they went on as if nothing were there. It made a deep mark upon my mind. I had thought I knew a little about command, and what is due to a man of standing. "But this is something," I thought, "to summon invisibility, like a god." I had no time to think more; for the man had come to me.

He looked me in the eye; then he put his black hairy hands on Chryse and ran them all over her. Anger almost burst me; but I guessed that if I struck him she would be first to pay. So I commanded myself, and said to her, "Take no notice. The people here are ignorant."

He turned, moving faster than I had thought he could, and took hold of my face by the chin. His body was scented with musk, heavy and sickening. He held my face with one hand and slapped it across with the other, so hard that my eyes watered. Something weighed down my right arm; afterwards I found the marks of Chryse's nails. I should have forgotten everything, but for her; there was strength under her sweetness. Beyond, among the courtiers, I heard a murmur, as if custom had been offended; they sounded indeed more shocked than I was, for no one expects a slave to have any rights, and I should have been ready for such things, but for the care taken of us on the ship. At the sound he turned round swiftly, to find their faces blank; they were expert at this. For my part, I hated them only because they had seen it. I was afraid they might think I was weeping.

With my face still in his hand, he said, "Don't cry, little cockerel; the bulls will hurt you more. What do they call you, where you come from?"

I answered aloud, so that no one should think I was crying, "In Athens they call me Shepherd of the People; and they call me Kerkyon in Eleusis. But in Troizen, they call me Kouros of Poseidon."

"What is it to me," he said breathing in my face, "what titles your tribesmen give you, you mainland savage? Tell me your name."

"My name is Theseus," I said. "I would have told you before if you had asked me."

He struck my face again, but this time I was ready and stood still. There was a pause, while some thought was born behind his staring eyes.

The closed litter still stood there. Lukos had gone away, but the crack still gaped a little, though I could see no hand. The man had not looked that way since it had come, being busy with us. I wondered if whoever was inside would be angry to see him slighted. "Surely," I thought, "the odds are on anyone hating him, from a god down to a dog. And he was not called to speak. But nothing in Crete is simple."

"Kouros of Poseidon!" he said to me grinning. "And how are you Poseidon's? Your mother went bathing, did she, and met an eel?" He turned round to the courtiers, who offered thin laughter, like people paying a tax.

I said, "I am his servant and his sacrifice. It is a thing between him and me."

He nodded, with a scornful mouth and blank stare hiding his mind, looking all round, to see he had the people's eyes. There was a gold ring on his forefinger, heavy and big; he drew it off, and tossed it in his palm. Then he flipped it in the air, so that it drew a bright line in the sun, and fell beyond the wharf into the sea. I saw it gleam and sink. And from the crowd of Cretans came a strange murmuring, as if they had seen impiety, or some ill omen.

"Well, Kouros of Poseidon," he said, "if you are so thick with your fish-daddy, he will give it back to you. Go down and ask him."

We were still a moment, looking at one another. Then I turned and ran to the wharfside and dived in. It was quiet and cool in the sea, after the hot wharf with its staring crowds. I went down and opened my eyes, and saw the shining sea-roof above me, and, below, the harbor floor patched with dark sponges, and strewn with the refuse of ships; broken pots and baskets, sodden skins of fruit and gourds, and old gnawed bones.

I thought, "He has made game of me. He knew I would not deny the god. Here I am diving for him like the slave-boy of some poor fisherman getting shellfish for his master. He did it to break my pride; no, to kill me, for he saw I would not come up with empty hands. If I die down here, it will be on my own head; no one can say he murdered a sacred victim. Yes, he is a beast that thinks. Someone should kill him."

All this while, I was searching about in the dirty water. I had breathed in before I dived, but not enough, having no practice in it, and already my chest felt tight. "My eyes will blacken soon," I thought; "then I am done." There was a stone before me, and under it a squid waving its arms as if it mocked me; out and in; it seemed to grow bigger and smaller, like something in a dream. And then I heard a roaring in my ears, like waves beating on shingle. "You boasted of me, Theseus," said the voice of the sea, "but did you pray to me?"

So I prayed with my heart to the god, since my mouth was sealed with water. "Help me, Father. Save my people. Let me avenge my honor." The blackness cleared from my eyes; and I saw in the mud under the squid a bright thing settling. I snatched at it; the slimy grip of the squid lashed my wrist, then he took fright and let go, filling the water round with his black ink. He must have seized it for food, and given it back at the command of the god.

I shot up to the light, and breathed like one coming back from the dead, and swam toward the wharf steps, with my hand clenched on the ring, for it was loose upon my finger. The Cranes waved and called my name. Then I looked at my enemy. I saw he had got ready, while I was down there, what he would say when I came up ashamed, or when I did not come. Now his mouth straightened and set. But his round stare did not alter. Presently he said in his coarse arrogant voice, "Well, well, it seems you have missed your calling. A fish-boy, sure enough." And he held his hand out for the ring.

I drew it off and looked at it. It had a goddess carved on it, with a high diadem and serpents in her hands. I held it out on my palm, so that it could be seen; I did not want him saying I had cheated with a pebble. "Here is your ring," I said. "Do you know it?"

"Yes," he said, his chin looking lower on his thick neck. "Give it here."

I took a step back. "You have seen it, then. But it was an offering to Poseidon. We must give it him back again." I threw it into the water, and said in the silence, "If you want it, it is between the god and you."

Everything was so still that the ring's splash sounded clearly. Then all the poor Cretans, the porters and sailors and rowers, started jabbering together as shrill as monkeys. Even from the Palace people came whispering and twittering, like birds hidden in leafy trees. I looked at the covered litter. The crack was a little wider, but still one could not see in. I felt that this unseen watcher had made me dare to throw the ring back in the sea, and wondered if it was sense or madness. The circles of its fall died on the water; and I turned to face its master.

I had looked to see him swollen with anger, and readied myself to be beaten if not worse. But he was quite still; hard, still, and staring. Then his head went up; his mouth opened; and the place was filled with his bellowing laughter. It startled the harbor gulls, and they flew up screeching.

"Well done, fish-boy!" he roared. "Your fish-father gets the prize! Commend me to him; tell him not to forget Asterion!" He rocked round laughing on his heel, toward his ox-car. It brought him round facing the litter, he saw it then for the first time. For a moment the laughter slipped from his face, like a mask when the string is broken. But he caught it back again, and the chair shook as he drove away.

3

The Knossos road climbs from the port between orchards and silver olives. It is a rich land, within its deathly cliffs. The black troops still escorted us; but Lukos avoided me, which I did not find strange, for I had angered a powerful lord, and that is a catching sickness. The houses of the rich merchants lining the road were like small palaces; I was always expecting one to be the house of the King, but ceased to ask when I saw the black men grinning.

We passed the houses, and Lukos came nearer, like a man pondering a doubtful horse. I said to him, "Who was that man in the ox-car?" He looked about him, hiding it, in the way of the Palace people; then he said. "You were foolish. That was the King's son, Asterion." I laughed and said, "A starry name for an earthy thing." He answered, "It is not for you to use it. The style of the heir is Minotauros."