For most of her life, she had relied upon her own almost unerring ability to find, to locate, whatever she was looking for. But today, after what had happened, she no longer quite knew what that was. Certainly she was not making an effort to locate Theseus.
"Father Zeus, why have you deserted me?" It was the first time in Ariadne's life that she had ever uttered such a prayer aloud. There was no answer. Of course she had not really expected one.
Homeless and friendless and lost, the princess considered hurling herself into the sea and dying. Maybe Poseidon would welcome her, grant her the peace that had escaped her on the earth.
She needed no extraordinary perception to be aware that something very strange, but something very real, that was not an inner vision, was approaching the island from well out at sea.
The president of the ruling council saw the strange-looking ship approaching before Nestor did, and called his attention to it.
"Another pirate?" the merchant demanded anxiously.
Nestor looked for a long time, shading his eyes with one hand. At last he said, "I don't think so. If it is, it's the weirdest-looking pirate I ever laid eyes on."
On second thought, when he had looked a little longer, he decided it might well be the weirdest-looking ship of any kind he'd ever seen. The vessel's mast and lines were festooned with greenery, its sides growing grass and vines that trailed in the sea as if they could be nourished by salt water.
As the princess watched the same ship from a different distance and angle, the thought momentarily crossed her mind that the craft might belong to Theseus, that he was engaged in some trick or magic, coming back to get her after all. But she could not convince herself of that, and did not try.
Now Ariadne could be sure that the strange vessel was coming in to land. But of course it was not going to land within a quarter of a mile of her, where the coast was all jagged and forbidding rocks.
Dionysus, immediately on landing, escorted Edith ashore, and tenderly sent her on her way homeward.
A smooth plank, magically supported, ran ashore and steadily supported those who walked on it.
Alex had done what he could, but had not been able to work any miracles of healing on the girl. But freedom and the prospect of being reunited with her family, along with a couple of days of proper nourishment, had had a strong beneficial effect. Edith now seemed quite capable of making her own way home through a friendly countryside.
Alex also dispatched a couple of sprites to dance attendance on the girl, to see that she came safely to her destination.
She was wearing soft, clean garments now, there were flowers in her hair, and she had passed a full day without weeping. "Thank you, thank you, my lord!"
"You are welcome. I envy you the joy of your homecoming. And I envy your family when they see you. There will be much rejoicing when you arrive."
Before walking away from the vessel that had brought him to Dia, Alex gave her to her faithful steersman, who was still with him. "This ship is yours now, good Acetes. Make what profit from her you can."
"Thank you, great lord!"
Ariadne's presence on Dia had been strongly suggested by Aegeus, before he was turned into a dolphin.
Some of Alex's sprites and powers, sent ahead to look around the island, now brought him a report.
But at first Alex could not believe what he was hearing. "Theseus has done what?"
The whisperer told him. Alternate waves of outrage and joy engulfed the latest avatar of Dionysus. She had been badly treated, mortally offended—but she was physically unhurt, and she was here.
Despite his recent access of divinity, Alex still felt very shy at imagining himself in the presence of the princess—he thought that with the Twice-Born to support him, he could face another god now, calmly enough, if required. But somehow this was different.
"She is only a mortal woman, why am I so nervous?"
His entourage had no answer to that question, but to chide him. It does not behoove a god to take the presence or absence of mortal flesh so seriously. These were the words of the disreputable Silenus.
His reply was stiff. "Thank you for your advice. But I am the god, not you." And it occurred to Alex to wonder, not for the first time, how and why Silenus, who had no real body, should show in his image all the ravages of dissipation.
You see me as I am, lord; your true servant, incapable of guile or deception.
Even Dionysus seemed to be taken aback by such a fabulous claim, and unable to find words for an immediate reply. Eventually Alex got out, "Oh, compelled to be absolutely truthful, are you?"
My devotion to the truth, Your Divinity, requires me to qualify that description. In pursuit of the highest truth it is sometimes necessary to deviate from strict accuracy in less important matters. In such a case—for example, in my service to yourself—the greater good to be accomplished must work to purify the means that are necessary to achieve it.
"I see. Of course. This is your roundabout way of admitting that you are an incorrigible liar. I ought to have remembered that fact before now."
I am most honored that Your Divinity remembers me at all.
Wondering how best to approach the woman he so desperately loved, Alex could this time find nothing very helpful in the long memory of Dionysus. Probably the god's usual approach to such matters was simply too different from his own. Left on his own, and feeling strangely awkward, the young man pondered how to introduce himself. To say "I am a god" would be no more than the simple truth, but an unaccountable shyness held him back from that approach. He was a god, but like the avatars of other deities, he was also something less—or something more. To say "I am Alex the Half-Nameless" would also be the truth, or at least a half-truth, but now seriously misleading.
In the end, Alex decided that he would neither announce his name to the princess at once, nor make any effort at disguise. Let Ariadne recognize him if she could—though, as he reminded himself, she had never been very familiar with the face of the young soldier whose only name was Alex. Nor had she ever seen him dressed in any other garments than the uniform of the Palace Guard.
He was still wearing around his neck the medallion of silver and gold that she had given him long days ago, but all of it except the chain was hidden under his purple cloak, where that garment was clasped around his neck.
When Alex saw her crouching in among the rocks, and the image of her as it appeared in the eye of Dionysus assured him that she had taken no great harm, his relief was so great that for a moment he could not speak.
When Ariadne suddenly became aware of the figure of a lone man standing there, wrapped in a rich cloak and gazing directly into her hiding place, she caught her breath in fear. Then she summoned up her courage and, with no trace of recognition in her eyes, demanded, "Are you a soldier?"
"No, my lady." And the young man opened his hands, showing them empty of weapons. Indeed he wore no belt or armor, and his tone was so humble that it set fear at rest.
But the wearer of such a fine cloak, standing idle in such a commanding attitude, could hardly be a slave or menial. "A landowner, then?" Ariadne demanded. "Or the priest of some local god? If you have no weapons, and no soldiers at your bidding, you'd better take shelter while you can."
"Why?"
"Why? You fool, pirates are ravaging the land! One shipload of them have run away like cowards, but others may still be here. More ships may be landing. If you don't care for your own safety, at least try not to give my hiding place away."
"That's the very last thing I'd want to do." Appearing concerned, he moved forward with alacrity, and slipped in among the rocks to stand beside her. There wasn't much room in her hiding place, and he had to stand very close to Ariadne.
Ariadne, her nerves already drawn to breaking point, had to fight to stifle a scream; but a second look assured her that the man was only standing there, calmly, being a perfect gentleman. Despite his fine clothes, there was still something humble about his attitude, and with an
effort she controlled herself. "I don't suppose you know where I could get my hands on a boat?"
"No, my lady. Do you think you would be safer in a boat?"
Why had the fates sent this idiot to pester her? "I don't know, but I've got to do something. I can't just hide among these rocks until I rot!"
"Certainly not. Would it please you to have some food? Something to eat and drink?"
"Yes! Please. I'm very thirsty. And hungry too."
Her mysterious visitor made a little bow, the best he could do in the constricted space, and took his leave. "I'll be back shortly."
He started away, then turned to call over his shoulder. "And I'll see what I can arrange in the way of transportation."
And when he had gone apart from her by thirty or forty yards, getting himself just out of her sight, Dionysus began getting his chariot mobilized, calling up out of its usual state of invisibility his whole exotic entourage.
"Should I send a sprite to her with wine and water?" Alex asked himself, muttering aloud. "No, those things I will bring to her with my own hands—in a minute. And—what an idiot I am!—food, too, of course. She said that she was hungry."
Critically he studied the display that was now being presented for his approval. Six or eight varieties of fruit, of course; that was good. He tasted a morsel of the presented cake. Not the very best he, Dionysus, had ever enjoyed, but—definitely satisfactory. There was no time just now to strive for absolute perfection.
Then he addressed his permanent escort. "And now, show me, how are you going to display yourselves?"
The entourage exploded suddenly into visibility, making an impressive array. Even the satyrs, commanded to appear more or less fully clothed, in suitable raiment, could achieve a kind of nobility. Alex would have been dazzled, but now, equipped with the mind of Dionysus, able to recall many occasions when the team had done much better, he was forced to judge it an inadequate, shambling sort of show.
"No, that is not good enough," he demanded of his inhuman servitors. "It's plain you haven't practiced this kind of thing for a long time. I have seen and heard better than that at a merely human court. Improve your costumes, and your manners, quickly. As for music, let us have first a fanfare, suitable for a great lady, and then a kind of serenade. But softly! Let her not hear until I have given my approval."
And now there seemed to be a greater variety of instruments tuning up to play. Strings and horns, flutes and timpani. And stuff for the eyes to feast upon: a whole panoply of lights and colors, gold and silver, scarlet and purple, was borne in the seeming substances of gems and fabrics. The whole scene was lighted by flames that burned coldly in the air, or with no heat greater than that of human bodies fired with passion.
"No, it must not turn into an orgy this time. No, it certainly shall not." Alex paused, trying to find the exactly proper words and thoughts with which to instruct his helpers, to produce exactly the effect he wanted. "Let the style of madness with which we approach the princess be of quite a different sort."
After the third or fourth revision of the whole display, all accomplished in accordance with the god's instructions, even the Dionysian memory at last found it acceptable. Besides, the princess must be growing impatient, and it would hardly do to let her faint from hunger.
And, besides that, Alex was reluctant to prolong their separation for even another minute. "That's more like it. Forward!"
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The slender, huddled figure stirred. Ariadne began to say, "Sir, I feared you were not coming back. If I could have only a cup of fresh water . . ."
Then, at the sudden crash of timpani and horns, she lifted her head, so all the colors of the flames of the procession were reflected in her heart-shaped face, between her hanging strings of grimy hair.
A moment later the princess had sprung to her feet in utter wonder at the leaping, marching music, at once sweeter and stronger than anything most mortal ears had ever heard. As the procession came fully into her view, swaggering and dancing past the entrance to her rude shelter, she remained motionless, getting a good look at every part of the parade. Spreading her hands in a gesture of unconscious grace, she stood there marveling.
Alex/Dionysus had made no effort to disguise himself, or to conceal his new nature. Still there was no sign as yet that the princess had recognized either the god who now stood before her, or the young soldier who had once pledged his undying loyalty.
But when the parade had passed, and turned, and was coming back again, her wondering eyes became fixed on Alex. As he approached she could see that he was carrying in his right hand a crystal flagon of what appeared to be clear, sparkling water, and in his left, a delicate dark bottle of what must be wine. Beside him and a little to the rear, a silver tray of choice dishes floated waist-high in the air, pastries and cheese and fruit borne by invisible hands. Mechanically she took the water from his hand and drank.
Never in her young life had the Princess Ariadne looked upon any god but the cruel Shiva; but now she understood at last that she stood in the presence of some very different deity.
The proud neck of the princess, that in the course of her young life must seldom have been bent to anyone, bowed low, but only for a moment. Then she raised her head again.
"You are—you must be—the Lord Dionysus." Somewhere in the back of her mind passed the thought that this was the form Theseus had been planning to put on. But evidently that effort had miscarried—the young man now standing before her was certainly not Theseus.
"Whatever I am, my lady, I owe to you," the noble-looking youth said now. And to Ariadne's amazement, she now beheld what seemed the enormity of a god going down on one knee, offering obeisance to a mere mortal woman.
But her wonder at the gesture was overwhelmed in a new mystification. At last her attention was fully concentrated on the one who stood beside her.
She said, "But . . . it seems to me that I have known you. Your face is almost the same as that of a young soldier I remember, the one named Alex. How can that be?"
In sober fact it was hardly strange that the princess should remember him—only a few days had passed since they were engaged in planning desperate deeds together—but still Alex felt a rush of joy at the acknowledgment.
"My name was Alex then," he said. "And it still is."
"I don't understand," she breathed.
"Don't you? Princess, I think you must be well aware of how I came into possession of this Face."
Her cracked lips made a perfect O. "I? How should I know?"
"Don't you?"
"Great Dionysus! I have no idea what my lord is talking about. You are the second god that I have ever seen. The first was more a devil. Never in my life have I laid eyes on the unworn Face of any god."
Wondering, Alex raised a hand to touch the medallion that still hung around his neck. "You gave this to me, when I was no more than a young soldier."
"Yes. Yes, so I did." A sharp sound made the princess turn her head. Around them, the surfaces of barren seaside rocks were cracking, green shoots peeping forth, the tendrils of vines beginning to make progress.
Again she faced the man before her. "You?"
He wondered if the troubles she had endured had left her mind confused. "Yes, my lady. My name is Alex," he repeated. "I am the new avatar of Dionysus. Here, sit down." On a rock behind the princess, soft green moss had already grown thick enough to make a cushion.
"Yes," said Ariadne, nodding her head slowly. "Thank you." She sat down. But her face indicated that what she had just heard explained nothing for her. "Yes, I did give my medallion to—to the young soldier. But what of it?"
"The Face of Dionysus was concealed inside it." And Alex snapped the two halves of silver and gold apart, displaying the empty compartment. Then he sighed; obviously the princess was as surprised as he had been at the revelation.
Dionysian memory suggested . . . if not an explanation, then a likely place in which to seek one. Whenever the god's affairs t
ook a turn that he himself found particularly mystifying, the solution was usually found to have some connection with his inhuman associates.
With one of them in particular.
As the result of a silent summons, Silenus once more appeared as their spokesman.
Dionysus posed the question in a godly voice. "Can you explain this business of the medallion, Silenus?"
Everything has worked out in a most satisfactory way, Lord Dionysus. Again Your Divinity is united with a congenial mind, in a suitable host body.
"I begin to understand," said Alex after a pause. "It was you who put the treasure where I found it."
Evidently the satyr took that comment as approval. My lord is perspicacious as always. I ask no special reward. But would it not be a good thing, lord, to begin a celebration at once? The lady appears to be in a receptive, congenial mood.
"It would not be a good thing," Alex rebuked his servant sharply. "Not what I suppose you mean when you say 'celebration.' Certainly not with this lady. Do not suggest it again."
Of course not, lord! Silenus seemed aghast at the possibility.
"Do not suggest what?" the princess queried, obviously mystified, and Alex understood that her mortal ears had heard nothing of what Silenus said to him.
"Never mind," the god continued sternly. "We can speak of all that later." The last remark was addressed to his entourage; he had more questions that he meant to ask of them, especially of Silenus.
But for the moment he focused on Ariadne once more. "I would be pleased if you would allow my servants to minister to you."
There were suddenly in the air clouds of fragrant steam, and gauzy curtains, enveloping the princess. Now her wide eyes, along with the rest of her, disappeared from the view of the man-god who watched.
A sprite, taking the form of a nearly invisible blur in the air beside his head, whispered a suggestion to him.
"Oh yes, her clothes," Alex responded, in a whisper too faint for the lady herself to hear. "Of course. What to do? Yes, good idea. See to it, I command you!"
Ariande's Web Page 31