The Sons of Memory - 9. The Love of a God

Theseus could have roared. He was so angry he stomped the grass under his feet when he walked back to the village, never seeing the people who wondered why they all had spent a night in uncomfortable positions like on a stool, on the threshold of their shops, behind a market stand. But they never cared because strange things happened before since the island had been occupied by a God.

He didn't know what to do. What he had seen was too much to comprehend. Just yesterday Arian was so promising. And now he had spent the night in the arms of another, giving him his virginity while he actually had spared it for him. So much for the first love of his life. Now he had to carry on in finding a partner he could trust.

He halted and looked to the ground. The storm that had shook his ship had come unexpectedly, like the discovery of this morning. They had hardly been able to hold the ship under control until the storm suddenly had stopped. Had this all happened per chance? And what had forced Arian to surrender to a foreign man?

Unnoticed he had walked on and had reached the shore far away from the harbour. There she was sitting on a rock, her golden aura inflamed her peplos and the sun set her golden helmet on fire. He fell to his knees, dazzled, never able to look up.

"My dear Theseus," she spoke with unearthly voice. "What bothers you? Speak." She looked friendly at him and he found the guts to look up into a pool of heaven blue eyes. He bowed very low, almost to his knees.

"Protector of Athen's people and myself," he mumbled. "I didn't know that the Gods are among us."

He heard a soft giggle. "We are always with you."

It couldn't be right. If she would be there always, he wouldn't have to suffer. But he didn't dare to speak.

"I know what your are thinking, Theseus." Athena rose and supported herself upon her spear. "But you have never lost the belief in us. I have seen it with my own eyes. I thank you for your faith and the sacrifices.

"But I just did what others are doing."

"This may be right. But you believe what you are doing. Now, listen. Eos told me what she had seen and she didn't like it. There's my brother who was often prayed to by the friendly people of Naxos." She pointed to a willow tree, where the God of the Muses leaned against, his Kythera in hand.

Theseus didn't know what to do. His feature was dazzling him too, so he had to squint his eyes. But he didn't dare to come up to his feet although this position - on his knees - was uncomfortable and shameful.

"Stand up, Theseus. The prince of Attica doesn't need to kneel." His voice had an echo and sounded loud over the land that Theseus seemed everybody in the village must hear it. But then, it was so soft, as if Apollo was speaking directly into his ear. "High goddess Hera decided to rescue you. We just follow her order." He smiled and Theseus seemed to sway. The smile stabbed his heart, then he had to smile himself. Of course. A god could work miracles. Even with his smile.

"But . . . I don't understand. . ." he managed to say then. "What has it to do with goddess Hera?"

"Well. . . our little brother, Dionysos. He is a nuisance." Apollo loosened from the tree and stood upright. Suddenly his face was dark and relentless. "It is time to learn a lesson." His eyes of a changing colour - once sapphire blue, then grey as a winter's morning - pierced Theseus'. Then they wandered over his face. Over his body, down to his naked feet. Theseus jumped from one foot to the other, for in his body awoke an ant's hill. He felt that the God liked what he saw but Theseus was too afraid to be pleased. After all, he didn't want to wake the interest of Apollo, God's gracious! But . . .

"You mean . . .'" Theseus stammered, "You mean, it was Dionysos, who was . . ."

Athena and Apollo nodded in unison. "He fell in love with the Prince of Crete a long time ago. He waited very long." They changed a view. "Surprisingly long. Perhaps he waited until Arian fell really in love so that his triumph could be higher. You understand?"

Theseus didn't move. He wasn't sure if he had understood right. Dionysos? The God of wine? Had he made Arian drunken?

Apollo laughed. "Not only drunken, my dear Theseus. It's a spell. Arian will not be able to loosen the spell by himself. Just when you love him. Really love him. And if you obey." Again Theseus felt the ant's hill when Apollo's eyes cruised his body. What would be the sacrifice for him?

Apollo nodded. You know it, he heard the words in his mind. I can never resist a man's strength. Theseus returned the God's stare. This is the price? You are not better than Dionysos.

Apollo broke out into a heartfelt laughter. It sounded like the wind in the trees. Well spoken. But think it over. You might enjoy it.

Loudly the God said, "Be back when the sun is rising to another morning. Help will be here. This is promised."

In the blink of an eye Athena and Apollo had vanished and Theseus snapped out of his trance. Instantly he wondered if this wasn't just a dream. But then his look fell upon the Kythera, that still leant against the willow tree. Apollo had forgotten it. Cautiously he touched the instrument and plucked a string. Instantly he held his palms over his ears, for it was a terrible sound. Deep like coming from Tartarus. Perhaps just a God was able to play it.

Prove your heart, Theseus. Was Arian worth it? To surrender? To surrender himself and probably to a God that demanded tribute for his help? The invincible Gods were relentless and selfish and even the soft Apollo could be brutal and unjust. Think about Marsyas... He skinned him because he thought he could beat Apollo in playing the flute - or was it the Kythera? But then he could be soft as a summer's rain when he mourned his beloved Hyacinthos and changed him into a flower...

But what would await himself? Stop being a coward, Theseus, he admonished himself. It's not about your own wishes and fright. Arian needs help and if you really want to keep him you have to bring a sacrifice. Apollo stressed the word really. If I would really love him. Do I? I'm not sure. Well, if you aren't sure, then you don't love. Was he worth loving? That's a stupid question. Love doesn't ask for worthiness. How many men did you possess? Definitely enough to learn that you loved none of them. Well, Ricos perhaps. Sort of. But they never matched yourself. Your counterpart. The other half. Arian did know it right from the start. He was so sure that he gave up his home for you and you took it for granted. He deserves better treatment and a little pain on your side.

Unintentionally he plucked another string of Apollo's Kythera. This time it was like lark's twittering invisible in the sky. Such a sweet sound his heart ached. Was this Apollo's answer? Would he be gentle with me? And did he love Arian enough to go through it? Perhaps for the rest of his life? He shrugged. Who knows what was to come. Feelings are a fickle thing. But right now and here he could answer the question with yes and he meant it. He wanted to be happy and make him happy. And if a sacrifice belonged to it - he would survive.

Chattering tore him off his musing. Looking up he saw Lykos and Sandokos coming up to him with some food and a bowl of fresh water. "Have you gone under the musicians?" Sandokos asked, pointing at Apollo's Kythera Theseus pressed tightly.

Lykos squatted beside him. "Problems? Where's Arian?"

Theseus sighed. He didn't know himself so weak and hurt. And it was hard to shake it off. What was the matter with him indeed?

Lykos plucked a string and there was again the sickening, deep sound. Lykos and Sandokos pressed their palms over their ears, and pulled grimaces. "What is this, for Hades' sake? Where have you found it?"

"Arian is gone," Theseus mumbled. But where to, he thought. Was he gone to Mount Olympus? No, Athena would have told him, and Apollo had given the order to wait here for him.

"Arian's gone?"

"The people are telling strange stories," Sandokos said. "About a God who has occupied the island. There's a place behind the oil grove." He pointed to the distance where Theseus had found Arian.

"There?" Absentminded he stood and stared, then he started to run.

"Theseus!"

The calls died away behind him.

* * * *

The doors, leading to the Atrium, were closed as were Arian's eyes. He lay in a water basin; blue dolphins on the bound and a mosaic of wine leaves and blue grapes. Dionysos' hands washed him with a sponge, loosen his muscles and making the pain vanish with each wipe. The God was sitting behind him, embracing him while he felt the engorged member in his back. He had the feeling that this stranger was everlastingly aroused, but he couldn't tell if he himself was the reason or if this was just his natural habit.

The door opened and several men enter the bath. They were naked except for furs they were wearing and put them on the ground. They carried plates with wine amphorae, grapes, nuts, bread and goat cheese. Arian's mouth watered. He watched the men of several ages entering the basin, grinning lasciviously and placing themselves around their pair. Arian was served a cup of wine he greedily drank and instantly the colours fluoresced. His head pulsated when he was fed grapes and white bread when Dionysos' hand started to crawl into the sparse hair at the base of Arian's member, Dionysos' own still one still poked the crack of his arse. He didn't feel pain anymore and this was a good thing. He always had been afraid of this pain - although a warrior should be used to it. He opened his eyes. How did he know that he was a warrior then?

A greedy mouth engulfed the tip of his penis and it rapidly raised and enlarged to its full length. An involuntary moan escaped his mouth. But instantly it was covered with another pair of lips while he felt at the same time a cock enter in him from behind. Water splashed as more satyrs approached him, starting to lick at his balls, suck his cock and yet another bit his nipples. Arian was floating, not aware of his lustful cries, not knowing if he cried for pain or for pleasure. His hand groped around, found a mop of wiry hair, or a leg, a pole standing upright or a naked arse. His mouth was stuffed with a penis he greedily sucked at it.

Dionysos' movements shook his body and from half closed eyes he saw the foreign, wild man mating frantically. It rang in his ears while the room was echoing from panting and moaning, from sounds of flesh to flesh. Then they were gone, leaving just the God with him, still filling his bowels with his powerful pole, never knowing an end.

Arran saw white flecks floating away that was probably his own seed - or of the others.

"This is what awaits you, beloved. Say yes, and you'll be immortal like me." Dionysos hissed into his ear.

Arran saw a shadow from the corner of his eyes. There was a figure peering through one of the windows that led to the garden around the palace. The blue eyes were big and shocked. Motionless he stood there, never able to go away. He had a raging hard on but wasn't aware of it. What Theseus had witnessed was so over the top that he was indeed in a state of shock. Arian doesn't seem to recognize him - as Apollo had said. He was under a spell.

The God of wine turned his head and looked directly into Theseus' eyes. A nasty smile played around his lips. Theseus saw one of his hands playing with Arian's cock, made it still again and Arian seemed to enjoy it. Theseus heart ached. Perhaps he should leave Arian where he was? Being a toy of a God couldn't be that bad. Could it? Was it? Of course it was bad, Theseus' inner voice told him. There was more than never ending sex. But what if Arian didn't want nor need more. Did he have the right to interfere?

There's a spell Theseus thought. Arian never made the impression that he was just a sex toy. He had been waiting for him - Theseus - he had told him. Then, when they were fighting the Minotaur.

Dionysos took a chalice and led it to Arian's mouth. Arian dank and sighed contentedly. His stiff penis stuck out of the shallow water, powerful, as Arians' being was. It jerked when Dionysos long fingers touched it. Probably the God was still in him from behind. He wouldn't leave much for Theseus when he was finished with him.

Theseus felt anger growing. If Arian just would fight the spell! Theseus tried to enter the room by jumping through the window opening, but he couldn't. An invincible wall was hindering him. His palms were stopped when he tried to reach inside and once more the God's amber eyes met his. Now they were not smiling but had a relentless look, that reminded him of Apollo's face. You don't joke with the Gods, Theseus realized and despair started to spread over him. There was nothing that he could do, just wait until the next morning.

Dionysos emptied himself again into Arian's body. This was finally the fulfilment of his dreams he thought. That Athens' prince had been a helpless witness just heightened the fun. It was more than fun he thought. If Arian would stay, the silent and weak willed toy, it would be like the Fields of Elysium.

"I will call for Ganymede to bring us Ambrosia," he said low. His voice was echoing over the water.

"Ganymede?" Arian asked dazed. He felt so tired yet excited. Every muscle seemed to be inflamed, but he didn't dare to complain. His arse started to hurt again when Dionysos pulled out of him. He was still hard and slowly Arian felt repulsed. This wasn't human indeed. He turned and stared into the God's amber eyes. "Who are you?" he asked seriously.

Dionysos offered him the chalice of red wine. "Drink, you will feel better."

Arian sat his lips at the cool bronze metal and felt better indeed afterwards. The pain in his body subsided.

"Don't you like the wine?"

Arian nodded.

"I'm the God of it. And now you're mine." Dionysos pressed his lips upon Arian's and Arian just realized this moment that Dionysos had never kissed him before. He had been too busy touching other parts of his body. Arian didn't like it. His breath tasted like sour wine and his tongue was spongy and rummaged in his mouth as if he had lost something. Arian tried to escape but Dionysos' arms held him like a vice. He had surprisingly strength and Arian wondered why he wasn't able to free himself. He was strong himself. Then he had another flash: Soft, luscious lips were caressing his mouth, a tongue that outlined his lips. Tasting sweet like a peach. Involuntarily his eyes wandered to the window opening to see if the stranger was still looking but he was gone. Strangely he associated his flashes with the foreign man - what was his name? Theseus? But he couldn't remember wherefrom he knew it.

Dionysos was still kissing him and Arian felt sick. The stiff penis was poking his belly. Should this be his future? To be pierced and impaled, pummeled and sucked off? His body never getting a rest, like the God's one never seemed to be in need for a rest?

But the price was eternal youth. He had promised him Ambrosia. Wasn't this the dish the Gods were served there on Mount Olympus? Would he have a chance to fight him? Fight a God? No. The Gods are invincible.

Dionysos bit his under lip and Arian tasted blood. With a jolt he loosened his body. Dionysos looked a little befuddled. He certainly had too much wine ... and too much sex. Arian's face blurred. But he didn't notice that the Cretan Prince was unwilling. "Where got you this from?" Dionysos outlined the long scar around Arian's forehead.

"A hit from a sword", Arian answered instantly. Dionysos looked mistrustful at him. Why he could remember while he actually shouldn't? "Whose sword?" he asked.

"I don't know."

Dionysos wiped over it with his finger and it vanished. Lovingly the God watched his work and found it good. But Arian still wondered who had given him the scar.

I don't know about you, beloved, but I 'm still terribly hungry," Dionysos said with a sly grin. Arian was certain that he didn't mean the desires of an empty belly. Again nausea rose. He couldn't go on. He would die here. Fucked to death so to say. He threw a sharp glance into the God's face but couldn't say anything. He touched his forehead where his scar used to be. He had never felt annoyed, it stressed his state as Cretan warrior but now that it was gone, he was pleased. He smiled at Dionysos. "Where am I going to sleep?" he asked.

"We." Dionysos corrected him and took him by the hand. Their naked feet left wet foot prints on the ground. Dionysos' bedroom housed a bed with feather covers and fluffy pillows. Wine leaves covered the walls. When Arian touched them, they appeared living plants growing in huge buckets, winding around wooden supports. Beams of the setting sun lit the walls.

"I'll show you Olympus, beloved. You'll see then what you are looking for," Dionysos said enthusiastically and filled a dish with red wine and wiped his hands over it. The he pulled Arian to his side.

There were golden and crystal rooms that seemed to hover on clouds. He saw goddess Hera swinging a white cow skin, a tamed peacock by her side, watching her attentively. Behind her three crystal steps led up to her ivory throne.

"What is she doing?" Arian asked.

"Look." Outside it started to rain softly. "She's making rain when her husband is too busy." Again he wiped over the surface and another picture appeared. Bearded Zeus amused himself with a young man in his bed. Arian blinked.

"Ganymede," exclaimed Dionysos, not without jealousy in his voice. "I have a go with him from time to time." He closed his eyes and concentrated. Ganymede, on his back, opened his eyes and looked directly into Dionysos' eyes. "I called him to serve us Ambrosia."

Arian watched in awe when another picture appeared. This time it was Apollo in a pine tree grove. He was engaged in a talk with nine males, different ages, in the distance Pegasus, the winged horse, peacefully grazing. Upon Apollo's shoulder sat a white mouse. It knew the secrets of the earth and whispered into the God's ear. Apollo turned his bluebell's eyes and smiled, his gaze focused upon Arian. Arian jerked back.

"Does he know we are watching him?"

"Perhaps." Dionysos wiped over the surface and the pictures vanished.

"Ganymede will be here very soon. What are we doing until?" Dionysos grinned lasciviously. Both were still naked and the God's pole already started to rise again. Arian stepped back quickly. He was tired and exhausted and sad. He didn't know if he wanted all this. His heart couldn't forget the foreign man at the window. Theseus . . .

Then he had another flash . . . a promise to give his cherry to him . . . throwing a coin who would have the favour and the pleasure . . . Pleasure? Well, yes. It was pleasure. Or it should be, he corrected himself, when his heart would be connected. Now all he had was a tired body that needed a rest. He felt Dionysos' hand trying to arouse him, but he failed.

A deep wrinkle appeared between the God's eyes. "Do you have enough of me?" Do you want a chalice of wine?"

Arian shook his head.

"So what else?" Dionysos embraced Aran, thrusting his hips forward, poking his belly with the stiff tool. "I'm sure you love a God's approach, nobody is better on earth. I offer you everlasting pleasure so I demand a little responsiveness from your side." His voice was sharp and Arian flinched.

Dionysos sensed it and he laid his palm upon Arian's eyes. Instantly Arian felt better and the sexual drive started again. His penis enlarged and Dionysos giggled. "Much, much better."

But from outside there was bird's wings overdrew the rain's rustle in the night. A ruby eyed, golden eagle, big enough to carry a man, landed in the garden outside and Ganymede stepped from it. He stroked the bird's neck, the eagle unfolded his wings and rose in the air.

"Ganymede!" Dionysos called pleased. "How do you feel about a threesome?"

Ganymede pulled a face. "I had my share already, Dionysos."

"So? You're never averse to a little dalliance, are you?" Dionysos said crossly.

"Let's have Ambrosia," Ganymede answered quickly.

Arian was frightened. He didn't want to eat, he didn't want to be immortal. Not so soon. Not yet. Not without a talk with the stranger. He looked pleadingly at Ganymede who returned the stare. Arian seemed to see pity in his hazel eyes, understanding and a conspiracy perhaps. Ganymede blinked. Was this a silent sign? He conjured a silver box from his bag he carried and golden spoons.

"Let me fix it quickly," he said and walked over to a corner were he placed the box and picked two plates. Arian couldn't see what he was doing but Dionysos whispered into his ear, "It is a special mixture the secret Ganymede knows exclusively. And Zeus of course. It will taste heavenly, I promise you."

Arian's heart pounded. What should he do? Refuse to eat? He was sure Dionysos would force him. And then? He would be immortal for always and forever; he didn't know that it was possible to reverse the effect. After all Ganymede had eaten it too, once a mortal human, just because Zeus fell in love with him and brought him to Olympus for his private pleasure he now had to serve all the Gods. And this until the world would fade. Was this his destiny? The price? The price for what? What had he done to arouse a God's interest? He wasn't that great of a beauty, there was nothing interesting in him. Was there?

Ganymede turned, reaching out two plates with a rosy dish. It looked too pink to eat but Dionysos eagerly grabbed it, held a spoonful under his nose and sniffed. He gave approving sounds and in a second he had gobbled it up. "Now you'" he said, licking his lips. He held out another spoon but Arian didn't open his mouth. Instead his eyes were fixed on Ganymede. The young man nodded and smiled a little. Perhaps he could eat it, Arian thought. And he opened his mouth and swallowed. It didn't taste that good as Dionysos had promised. When he ever had expected that he would feel funny afterwards, like having a stomach ache or something, there was nothing. He didn't feel strange, nor immortal.

Dionysos' eyes blinked sleepily and he yawned. "Bedtime, beloved." He wanted to say something else but suddenly his body fell over and landed upon the feather bed. Arian looked dismayed at Ganymede but the young man still smiled.

"About time, Arian," he said. "He'll sleep until the morning when Apollo comes."

"Apollo?" Arian didn't know what to think. "Can I flee?"

"No. You have to wait here. Don't be afraid. Apollo will come to your help."

"But, I have eaten this . . ."

"This was nothing. No Ambrosia. Dionysos is so easy to deceive in his wine befuddled brain." He laughed. It sounded like a bell. "Apollo will come and everything will be good. This is promised."

With that he left the room and Arian didn't see him anymore. He didn't know what to do. He stared at the snoring God, laying there upon his bed like a beached whale when a panther slipped through the ajar door. He stretched out beside his master and started a deep purring. Arian didn't move. He watched the lithe animal until the blackbirds announced another morning.