The Sons of Memory - 5. Fulfilment

He woke up when a hand was touching him on the naked shoulder. Startled he rose to find Arian standing there. "Your friends are in their chambers again. If you like to talk with them, you're free to do so. But I assume you're hungry."

Theseus took the bath towel, wrapped himself and followed Arian to his room. He was surprised to see this polite treatment. He felt almost like a welcomed guest to another cultivated kingdom. He couldn't deny that Crete was indeed a cultivated kingdom . . . despite all.

Surprised, he saw the table filled with dishes; fried fish with a spicy sauce, fresh bread, olives and goat cheese, dates, figs and grapes; everything Athens gets from foreign countries.

His mouth watered. But before he devoured the fish he took the bread, crumbled a piece of it to the ground and murmured words. And before he took the chalice full of Samos wine he sprinkled a little of it on the ground, praying to Apollo and Athena.

Arian sat opposite and watched him. "Ariadne is keen on you. She always wants what I have. But there's no chance for her, she being the king's daughter."

Theseus stopped chewing. "What do you have that she wants?"

"Well, men for instance. It's not considered proper for a king's daughter to jump from bed to bed."

Theseus had finished his fish and laid down the fork. "So it is true what they are telling. First you both rape the men before they are sacrificed.

Arian laughed. A rich sound and long missed. At the same time both heard the moaning of a female voice coming from another room. Arian lifted his brows but said nothing. After the moaning had exploded into a randy cry he said, "No rape. Just entertainment."

Theseus' heart started to pound. He rose and walked over to the bed. "Tell me about tomorrow."

"There's a labyrinth. It was built by Daedalus, a most skilful artificer. The labyrinth is an edifice with numberless winding passages and turnings opening into one another, and seeming to have neither beginning nor end, like the river Maeander, which returns on itself, and flows now onward, now backward, in its course to the sea."

"And what is hidden in the labyrinth?"

"Your fate."

His tunic was short. Very short. And when Arian sat down beside him on the bed, facing him, he had a glimpse of his bare buttocks. Beautiful firm buttocks, just perfect to take his manhood. Theseus shifted and gazed at Arian's blond, almost white hair he had bound into a braid, that fell over his back. Theseus imagined undoing this braid to see the hair flooding over the pillow beneath him. His eyebrows were surprisingly dark and made a perfect bow over his glass green eyes. It made the face clear in its structure, the mouth was soft yet had a hard line in it. It spoke of willpower, and the long scar that led across his forehead right under the hairline, made him look as if he was wearing a hair band, a ring around his head. Theseus liked it; he had several scars himself as proof of his adventures.

"You're bound to die", Arian said, while taking a black olive into his mouth.

"I'm not." Theseus told him, took the fresh bread and broke off a piece, watching Arian's raised brows. "You're not? How?"

"You'll give me a sword and I'll kill the monster."

"How do you know there's a monster?" Arian asked sharply.

"It's a rumour that spread to Attica. None of the youths returned to my hometown; so we assume they are fed to a brute."

Arian fell silent and chewed more olives. He drank from the spiced, heavy wine. Then he took the small leather bag he had brought and showed Theseus a red ball of wool.

"What's this? No sword?"

"You'll get a sword and this." Arian said solemnly. "We tie it at the gate to the labyrinth and it will lead us back."

"Us?"

Arian placed the goblet on the table and looked penetratingly at Theseus. "Us. My father promised to stop this unmerciful tribute once the Minotaur is dead."

"Minotaur?"

"A man with the head of a bull. Gloomy, fiery, brutal. A man eater."

Theseus tried to keep his countenance calm and unchanged.

"No one has ever survived," Arian continued. His stare was even deeper. "But I've never seen a man who came here that looked like you. Someone who has the power to fight. With me." He slid nearer. "Somebody who could fight with me. Together. All of them were just children. You're not."

His hand reached to his shoulder and loosened the fibula that held his chiton. His upper body was revealed and Theseus swallowed. He sensed power when Arian approached him. This was the first man who could overpower him. Yes. Arian's green eyes were near. Big, clear, not blinking. The lips curled up and spoke a word Theseus didn't understand, but it was too late; the lips had pressed upon his own and engaged him into a kiss that made him lose his mind. Theseus hands were all over Arian's body suddenly, tugging at the chiton but the leather girdle stopped him. His hand slid along Arian's strong legs, creeping under the hem of the cloth, tickling the ball sack, hairless, smooth like the rest of his body. He loosened his girdle and the chiton fell to the ground.

"You're coming with me to fight the bull?" Arian stood like a statue, looking at him.

"Yes." Theseus said and then there was just a tangle of arms, legs, sucking mouths and licking tongues, showing the scars they had, the trophies of all their victories, rolling over the bed, mouths clamped around cocks, exchanging all fluids they had to give.

Then Arian suddenly stopped the action when Theseus wanted to push his cock into the crack of Arian's buttocks. Sweaty and with loosened braid he sat upright. "I'm the master here", he said.

Theseus sat speechless then started to laugh. "That was my part actually." He remembered Ricos' words about being a sissy. Perhaps he had met now another sissy.

Arian's dark eyebrows jumped up. "Beat the monster and we toss coins for who is doing whom." His eyes were laughing.

"Settled."

"Settled."

Theseus hadn't enough of his mouth though, so he pulled him closer again, his hands roaming over Arian's shoulders. "I always win." He muffled.

"Do you? Me too." Arian slid into his chiton and Theseus looked surprised. "You're not staying with me tonight?"

Arian shook his had. "No. I will see you when the sun is rising."

Mount Olympus

Rosy-cheeked Eos just arrived at the halls of Mount Olympus. She dropped down her blood-red chiton she was wearing when she played sundown for the human's down on earth and dressed into her comfortable robe. Then she placed herself next to Hera, watching her usually miserable face. She's getting old, Eos thought, amused that she had a couple of thousand years to stay very young - measured by earthly time. Even the Gods were aging when they didn't have their weekly portion of Ambrosia. And Hera - inflamed with rage at the dalliances of her husband, Zeus - had occasionally forgotten to eat.

"How are things, my dear?" Eos said with honeyed voice.

"Oh well, my dear. Those bandages are killing me." Hera pointed to her legs. "My dearest Asclepios came around to do his monthly visit and gave me this for my veins. Then he gave good advice for my sciatica."

"You should simply keep it warm."

"Of course it does me harm", Hera said reproachful. She didn't hear all that well lately. "And then look at this old horny chap." She pointed over to a God with wine-leaves all over his head, he had decorated himself with them. "That's really amusing. Did you know that the time is ripe for this Cretan prince?"

Eos watched the God looking into a big, flat bowl of red wine as if he had fallen in love with himself, like Narcissus. But Narcissus was saved since Eros and Butterfly had redeemed his brother's soul to rejoin both in Hades' Underworld. Eos sighed contently. This had been an adventure the Olympic Gods had long to chatter about.

"No, dearest Hera, let me know about our Dionysos. Has he fallen finally for himself because he's always looking too fondly into the wine-mirror?"

"Oh no, my dear. He is watching the Cretan prince. You know that my husband, Zeus, visits Mount Ida each year on Crete where he had been brought up by the goat Amalthea when his father was after his life. Do you remember?"

Eos nodded. Of course she didn't remember because it happened long before her time.

"Well, Dionysos accompanied him once when Arian, the son of Crete's king, grew up to a stunning male beauty. Dionysos fell in love instantly. He told us that his beauty even matched Apollo's or his little friend Hyacinthos - may the Gods be gracious with him. Well, he's not my taste exactly."

"And now? Dionysos indulges himself in adoration from a distance?"

"No! I told you that the time is ripe to pluck him. Dionysos will abduct him to Naxos. You know that this is his favourite island. He's working on a love-nest." Hera giggled hoarsly. "About time that he vanishes. I have born him too long, this bastard."

Eos remembered the old grudge coming from an affair Zeus had had with the earthly woman Semele. Hera in her rage, came to Semele and advised her to ask Zeus to appear in his real figure. Semele accepted and Zeus had vowed by the river Styx to fulfill Semele's plea. So he had to appear in fire and flame - his real figure. Semele burnt to ashes but Hermes quickly saved the unborn Dionysos, and sewed the baby into Zeus' calf where he grew until he was born. Hera's grudge wasn't calmed so Dionysos had to be raised up in the mountains, dressed as a girl, until Zeus had brought him here to Mount Olympus. After all he was his son - one of the many.

Dionysos now took the bowl and carried it cautiously away, into his private rooms in the palace. His tamed panther followed on silent feet. There he stretched out on the feather bed beside his master.

Dionysos didn't want to miss what happened in the palace of Knossos, especially now that Arian and Theseus were a tangle on the bed. He felt a tickle in his loins, so he tugged at his tunic until he lay naked on his stomach, the feathers tickling his wet erection.

This Theseus was well equipped - this he had to admit and Dionysos forgave Arian's horniness. He couldn't wait until he would have Arian for himself to teach him the love of a God, to feed him Ambrosia, and... Ambrosia, holy Earthquake! He jumped up and rang a tiny, golden bell. A minute later a youth entered his room, decoratively dressed in a blue tunic, feet naked, the hazelnut eyes framed and underlined with a thin coal line: Ganymede, Zeus' private toy.

Ganymede looked briefly at Dionysos' straining erection and the droplets running along the veined shaft. The tray he carried trembled a little and the small bowl with rosy Ambrosia threatened to slip down.

Dionysos laughed quietly. "My shy Ganymede. Am I that exciting to watch?" He took the tray and put it on the table, then he stroked the youth's smooth cheek. "Come here, share this with me." He held out the golden spoon and fed Ganymede before he took some himself. His cock was quivering.

"Is Zeus out and you are lonely? You know I don't interfere with the matters of my father, but . . ."

"Zeus is out," Ganymede said with a young voice. He knew that the love of a God was pure heaven, so he never minded a side track with others like Apollo or Hermes. Zeus didn't have to know. His hand snaked around Dionysos' penis and he smiled when the God of the wine and grapes closed his eyes.