by Rick Riordan
Finally, after two weeks, the royal guards stormed the palace and captured King Lycurgus. Nobody protested. Nobody had liked the king much anyway. The guards dragged him kicking and screaming into the town square. They tied his limbs to four horses, then thwacked the horses’ rumps and set them running in four different directions.
Yeah. The king’s death was messy.
The people of the town released Dionysus’s followers. Immediately the plants began to grow again. Flowers bloomed. Grapevines overtook the palace walls and bore juicy bunches of grapes.
The townspeople learned to make wine. They started building Dionysus’s first temple. And that’s how Dionysus won his first victory.
After that, he decided to take his show on the road. He gathered his followers and began the Dionysus Grand World Tour of Madness and Wine-Tasting. (Mr. D won’t admit it, but he’s still got some unsold event T-shirts in a box in his closet—all size adult small.)
Some towns accepted Dionysus and his army of drunken bacchae without a fight. When that happened, everything was sunshine and smiley faces. The town got free wine and the knowledge of how to make it. The bacchae threw a big party. Everybody honored Dionysus, and the next morning the army moved on, leaving a bunch of broken glasses, crushed party hats, and people with hangovers.
Not everybody liked this new god and his followers, though. King Pentheus of Thebes distrusted Dionysus. The god’s army of drunks seemed dangerous and barely under control. But Pentheus had heard what happened to Lycurgus, so he played it cool when Dionysus came to visit.
“Give me some time to think about your offer,” the king said.
Dionysus bowed. “No problem. We’ll be in the woods to the east, holding our nightly revels. I would invite you to join us, but…” The god smiled mysteriously. “They are not open to unbelievers. Trust me, though. You’re missing quite a party! We’ll come back tomorrow to get your answer.”
The army left in peace and made camp in the woods.
King Pentheus was burning with curiosity. What was this new god about? Did he have secret weapons? Why were his revels closed to outsiders?
The king’s spies reported that many of his own townspeople had already accepted Dionysus as a god without waiting for the king’s permission. Hundreds were planning to sneak out of the city and join the revels in the woods tonight.
“I have to know more about this new threat,” Pentheus grumbled. “And I can’t trust secondhand reports. Too many of my own people already believe in this new god! I need to spy on Dionysus’s camp myself.”
His guards warned him it was a bad idea, but the king didn’t listen. He put on his black ninja outfit, painted his face with grease and ash, and sneaked out of town. When he reached the edge of Dionysus’s camp, Pentheus climbed a tree and watched the revels with fascination and horror.
The bacchae parties had gotten pretty wild as the army moved around Greece. Some of the mortals, nymphs, and satyrs were content to drink wine and listen to music. Others put on rowdy comic plays, because Dionysus had become the patron god of theater.
But a lot of his followers got much crazier. They built huge bonfires and leaped through them for fun. Others got drunk and staged wrestling matches to the death. Others…well, I’ll have to let you use your imagination. Personally, I’ve never been to Mr. D’s revels. If I went, my mom would ground me for eternity. But there was some crazy stuff going on.
Dionysus’s most hard-core followers were a group of nymphs called the maenads. During the revels they got so frenzied they felt no pain and had absolutely no self-control. They just did whatever came to mind. You had to be careful when the maenads were in the zone, because they could go from super-happy to super-angry in a split second. They were so strong and vicious…Imagine thirty drunk She-Hulks with razor-sharp fingernails, and you’ve got the general idea. They acted as Dionysus’s bodyguards and shock troops, so nobody would ever dare to whip the god again.
That night, they were dancing around Dionysus as he sat in his makeshift wooden throne, drinking wine and toasting his followers. He usually wore the same outfit—purple robes and a wreath of oak leaves. As a symbol of his power he held a special scepter called a thyrsus, which was topped with a pinecone and encircled with grapevines. If that doesn’t sound like much of a weapon, then you’ve probably never been smacked upside the head by a pinecone on a stick.
Anyway, Pentheus watched the revels from up in the tree. He started to realize that this new god Dionysus was much more powerful than he’d thought. Hundreds of Pentheus’s own townspeople were dancing in the crowd. Then he saw an older woman chatting with some satyrs by a bonfire, and his heart turned to lead.
“Mother?” he whimpered.
He didn’t say it very loudly, but somehow the god sensed his presence. At the other end of the clearing, Dionysus casually stood up. He drained his wine cup and strolled over to the tree. Pentheus didn’t dare move. He knew if he tried to run, he’d never make it.
Dionysus leaped up and grabbed a huge branch. It was heavier than any human would’ve been able to bend, but he pulled it down easily. King Pentheus was completely exposed.
The music died. Hundreds of bacchae stared at the spy in the tree.
“Looky here,” Dionsyus said. “The king is trespassing, making a mockery of our sacred rituals.” He turned to the maenads and the rest of the revelers. “What do we do with trespassers, my friends? Show him!”
The crowd swarmed the tree. They pulled down Pentheus and literally torn him to pieces. Even Pentheus’s own mother, overcome with the party spirit, joined the fun.
So, yeah…wine, music, dancing, the occasional gruesome murder. Dionysus definitely knew how to put on a show.
After that incident, not many cities stood in his way. Dionysus had a little trouble in Athens, but once he explained the situation (by driving a lot of Athenian women insane), the city welcomed him and started a yearly festival in his honor. Dionysus even traveled into Egypt and Syria, spreading the good word about wine. Sure, he had a few problems here and there, but if I told you about every time Dionysus drove a king mad or flayed him alive, we’d be here all day. Dionysus was just a never-ending fiesta of fun.
Hera made one last attempt to destroy him and almost succeeded. She separated Dionysus from his army and drove him insane, but Dionysus got better. He rode a talking donkey to an oracle in Dodona, where Zeus cured him. (Long story, and don’t even ask where he got the talking donkey.)
Then one day, Dionysus got married. It only happened because he got captured by pirates.
The night before it happened, the bacchae had thrown an especially huge party on the coast of Italy. The next morning, Dionysus woke with a massive headache. While the rest of the camp was sleeping, Dionysus stumbled to the beach to go to the bathroom.
(Yes, of course gods go to the bathroom. Um…at least I think…You know what? Let’s just move along.)
Anyway, he really had to go. He stood there for a long time doing his business, watching the ocean. Eventually a ship appeared on the horizon. It got closer and closer, its black sails billowing and a black pennant flapping from the top of the mast. As Dionysus watched, the ship weighed anchor. A rowboat came ashore. Half a dozen ugly-looking dudes got out and marched toward him.
“Arrr!” one said, pulling a sword.
Dionysus grinned. “Oh, no way! Are you guys pirates?”
Dionysus had heard about pirates, but he’d never met any. He was terribly excited.
The pirates glanced at each other, momentarily confused.
“That’s right, ye scalawag,” said the one with the sword. “I’m the captain of these salty seadogs. And you’re obviously a rich young prince, so we’re taking you hostage!”
(Note to self: Get somebody to check my pirate-speak before we publish this. It’s been a while since I saw Pirates of the Caribbean.)
Dionysus clap
ped his hands enthusiastically. “Oh, that’s fabulous!” He glanced back toward the sand dunes. “My army is still sleeping. I can probably spare a few hours before they wake up.”
The captain narrowed his eyes at the mention of an army, but he couldn’t see anyone over the tops of the dunes, so he decided the young prince must be bluffing. Dionysus certainly looked rich. Poor people didn’t wear purple robes or oak leaf crowns. They didn’t have nicely manicured hands, long flowing black hair, and good teeth. In fact, the captain had never seen a guy who looked so pretty.
“Get moving, then!” the captain ordered. “In the boat!”
“Yay!” Dionysus hurried to the rowboat. “Do I get a tour of your ship? Do I get to walk the plank?”
The pirates took Dionysus aboard and sailed away. They tried to bind him, but the ropes kept falling off no matter what they tried.
The captain asked Dionysus who his father was, so they could demand a rich ransom.
“Hmm?” said Dionysus, examining the rigging. “Oh, my father is Zeus.”
That made the pirates very uneasy.
Finally the navigator couldn’t stand it. “Can’t you see he’s a god? I mean nobody mortal would look so…pretty.”
“Thank you!” Dionysus beamed. “My secret is wine every day and lots of partying.”
The navigator frowned. “We should take him back and let him go. This ain’t going to end well.”
“Spit on that!” yelled the captain. “He’s our prisoner and we’ll keep him!”
“I love you guys!” Dionysus said. “But all this excitement has made me really tired. Can I just take a quick nap? Then maybe we can swab the deck or something.”
Dionysus curled up in a pile of ropes and started snoring.
Since the pirates hadn’t been able to tie him up, they let him sleep. When he finally woke up, the sun was high in the sky.
“Oh, um, guys?” Dionysus stood and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “It’s getting late. My army will be worried. Can we go back?”
“Go back?” The captain laughed. “You’re our prisoner. Since ye wouldn’t tell us your real father, we’re taking you to Crete to sell you into slavery!”
Dionysus was tired of playing pirates. Also, he woke up cranky from naps. “I told you my father was Zeus. Now, turn the ship around.”
“Or what?” the captain asked. “You’ll pretty me to death?”
The ship began to rattle. Grapevines sprouted from the deck and crawled up the mast. Pirates yelled in alarm as the vines completely covered the sails and began snaking down the rigging. The crew ran around in a panic, slipping on bunches of grapes.
“Calm yourselves!” yelled the captain. “They’re just plants!” Then he snarled at Dionysus, “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, young prince. Time to die!”
The captain advanced with his sword.
Dionysus had never tried changing his form before, but now he was thrilled to discover he could. Suddenly the captain found himself facing a five-hundred-pound bear.
Dionysus the Bear roared at the captain, who dropped his sword and ran, only to slip on some grapes. The rest of the crew fled, heading for the prow, but a huge phantom tiger appeared on the foredeck, growling and ready to pounce. It was just an illusion, but the pirates were terrified. Everywhere they turned, Dionysus created a different phantom predator—a lion, a leopard, a jackalope; you name it.
Finally the pirates dove over the side. Dionysus decided the ocean was a good place for them to stay, so he turned them into dolphins, and off they swam. If you ever see a dolphin with an eye patch, chattering “Arrr, matey!” now you’ll know why.
The only pirate left was the navigator, who had stayed at the wheel, too terrified to move.
Dionysus smiled at him. “You’re the only one who recognized me as a god. I like you!”
The navigator made a squeaking sound.
“Can you take me back, please?” Dionysus asked.
“M-m-my lord,” the navigator managed. “I would, but with no crew, I can’t sail far. Plus the grapevines in the rigging…”
“Oh, right.” Dionysus scratched his head. “Sorry about that.”
The god gazed across the water. About a mile to the east, he spotted a small island. “How about there?”
“Erm, that would be Naxos, my lord. I think…”
“Perfect. Can you just drop me off? I’ll find my own way back to the army.”
So Dionysus ended up on the island of Naxos, which was uninhabited except for a beautiful young lady, who Dionysus found weeping by the edge of a stream in the woods.
She sounded so heartbroken that Dionysus sat next to her and took her hand. “My dear, what’s wrong?”
She didn’t even seem startled, as if she didn’t care about anything anymore.
“My—my boyfriend dumped me,” she said.
Dionysus’s heart twisted into a pretzel. Despite her red puffy eyes and disheveled hair, the girl was absolutely gorgeous.
“Who on earth would be so stupid as to dump you?” Dionysus asked.
“His…his name was Theseus,” the girl said. “I’m Princess Ariadne, by the way.”
She told Dionysus her sad story—how she’d helped this handsome guy Theseus escape from her father’s maze, which was called the Labyrinth. Theseus had killed the Minotaur, blah, blah, blah. That’s a whole other story. In the end, Theseus had promised to take Ariadne home with him to Athens. On the way, he stopped at Naxos for fresh water, dumped her on the beach, and sailed away.
And you thought breaking up by texting was low.
Dionysus was furious. If Theseus had been around, the god would’ve turned him into a bunch of grapes and stomped him.
The god comforted Ariadne. He summoned wine and food, and they began to talk. Dionysus was good company. After a while, Ariadne began to smile. She even laughed when Dionysus told her about the pirates. (I guess she had a strange sense of humor.)
As quick as that, the two of them fell in love.
“I will take you with me, my dear,” Dionysus promised. “I will never leave you. When I ascend to my throne on Mount Olympus, you will be my queen for eternity.”
Dionysus kept his promise. He married Ariadne, and when he was finally recognized as a god and became the twelfth Olympian, he made Ariadne his immortal wife. Oh, sure, he still had occasional flings with mortals. He was a god, after all. But as far as Greek stories go, they lived happily ever after.
Dionysus’s last big adventure on earth, before he became a full-time god: he decided to invade India.
Why?
Why not?
He had traveled all over the Mediterranean and into Egypt and Syria, but whenever he tried to spread the good news about wine farther east, he always got stopped by angry locals. Maybe that’s because Mesopotamia was where they invented beer. Maybe they didn’t want any beverage competition.
Anyway, he decided to make one final push to expand his market share. As far as the Greeks were concerned, India was pretty much the end of the world, so Dionysus decided to go there, take over, teach them about wine, and come back home, preferably in time for supper.
His drunken followers gathered by the thousands. Some stories say that Hercules joined Dionysus for the expedition, and they had some major drinking contests along the way. Other stories say that the twin sons of Hephaestus, the Kabeiroi, rode into battle on a mechanical chariot and fought bravely. A couple of times, they got a little too brave and were surrounded by enemies, at which point Hephaestus himself had to come down, spray the enemy with his divine flamethrower, and bring his kids back to safety.
Dionysus rode at the head of his army in a golden chariot pulled by two centaurs. A lot of towns surrendered to him in Syria. The drunken army made it all the way to the Euphrates River and constructed a bridge to get them across—the first time Gree
ks had gotten that far.
The bridge isn’t there anymore. What did you expect? It was made by a bunch of drunks. It probably fell apart in about a week.
Everything was going great—until the army reached India. Those Indians knew how to fight. They had their own magic, their own gods, their own bunch of nasty secret weapons. Their holy men, the Brahmans, would sit on the field of battle, looking all peaceful, and Dionysus’s army would roll up, thinking the enemy was surrendering. As soon as the Greeks got close, the Indians would fire rockets into their midst—jets of flame and blinding light, massive explosions that caused panic in the troops.
After a bunch of tough battles, Dionysus finally made it to the Ganges River, which was the holy river of India. He assaulted one last fortress—a big castle on a hill as tall as the Acropolis back in Athens. His centaurs and satyrs tried a frontal assault, climbing up the rocks, but the Indians set off some magic explosions that were so powerful the Greek front lines were vaporized. Supposedly you can still see the afterimages of satyrs and centaurs burned into the cliffs where the battle happened.
At that point, Dionysus decided enough was enough. They’d made it to India. They’d introduced wine. Dionysus had collected a sweet assortment of exotic predator cats, like tigers and leopards. He’d even taken the leopard as his new sacred animal and started a fashion craze by wearing a leopard skin as a cape. The army had taken a lot of treasure. They’d met new and interesting people, killed most of them, and generally had a good time.
Dionysus built a pair of pillars on the banks of the Ganges to prove that he’d been there. He bade the Indians a tearful farewell and marched back to Greece. He dropped off a load of treasure at the Oracle of Delphi in honor of the gods, and for a long time, there used to big silver bowl in the Delphic treasure room inscribed: TAKEN FROM THE INDIANS BY DIONYSUS, SON OF ZEUS AND SEMELE. (One of the old Greek writers saw it. I’m not making this up.)