‘What, now?’
She turned a knob. A hatch opened in the ceiling and a thousand gallons of scalding-hot water dumped on top of Minos. He wailed and shrieked and died in extreme pain.
Behind the towel rack, a secret door opened. Daedalus emerged.
‘Well done, my princesses,’ said the inventor. ‘You were always quick learners.’
The princesses hugged him.
‘We couldn’t let Minos arrest you!’ said the eldest. ‘You can stay with us now. Continue to advise us!’
‘Alas, my dear, I can’t,’ Daedalus said. ‘The goddess Athena clearly isn’t done cursing me. I have to move on before I bring more tragedy to this kingdom. But don’t worry. You’ll make excellent queens. And I have other plans …’
The old inventor embraced the loyal and murderous princesses. Then he disappeared into the secret passage and was never seen in Sicily again.
The princesses ran back to the throne room. Crying and screaming, they reported that their honoured guest Minos had accidentally slipped and fallen into the scalding-hot tub. The poor man had died instantly.
The Cretan guards were suspicious. When they saw the body of their king, he looked like he’d been boiled in a lobster pot. But what could they do? They were outnumbered at the palace. The fortress was too well protected for an all-out assault. To get proper revenge, they’d have to declare war, lay siege to the island and summon more troops from a thousand miles away. That was a lot of work for a king they’d never liked anyway. They decided to accept the princesses’ story that the death had been an accident.
The Cretans sailed away in peace. Cocalus kept the ass-load of gold. His three murderous daughters lived happily ever after and became excellent at torturing and tax collecting.
And Daedalus?
Some stories say that he lived his last days on the island of Sardinia, but nobody is really sure.
Unless you’ve read some of my adventures. Then you might know what happened to the old guy. But, since we’re sticking to the original myths and all, I’ll have to leave it there.
Besides, my pet hellhound is getting really sad. She knows that I’m writing about Daedalus, her former master. Every time she hears his name, she starts to cry and chew holes in my armour.
So was Daedalus a hero? You tell me. The guy was definitely smart, but his ingenuity got him into trouble at least as often as it saved him. Comic book superheroes always get the same bit of advice: Use your powers only for good. Yeah … Daedalus didn’t do that. He used his powers for greed and money and saving his own skin. But sometimes he also tried to help people.
Before you make up your mind, you should hear the other side of the story: what happened in the Labyrinth when a guy named Theseus came to town. It turned out Daedalus wasn’t the only smart person in Crete, and Minos wasn’t the only stone-cold killer. Ariadne and Theseus … they made quite a cut-throat team.
Theseus Slays the Mighty – Oh, Look! a Bunny Rabbit!
Wanna make Theseus mad?
Ask him, ‘Who’s your daddy?’
He’ll smack you upside the head real quick.
Nobody knows exactly who Theseus’s father was. We’re not even sure if he had one dad or two. The Ancient Greeks argued about it for centuries. They wrote essays and stories trying to figure it out until their brains exploded.
I’ll try not to make your brain explode, but here’s the deal:
The king of Athens was a dude named Aegeus. He had lots of enemies ready to take over his kingdom and no sons to carry on the family name. He really wanted a son, and so to get advice he decided – you guessed it – to visit the Oracle of Delphi.
Have you noticed how many of these stories have kings who wanted sons? I don’t know what’s up with that. You’d think no royal family ever had boys – like Greece was littered with kings standing on the side of the road holding cardboard signs that read:
WILL WORK FOR SONS.
PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME HOW TO
HAVE BOY CHILDREN.
GODS BLESS.
They should have made a deal with the Amazons, since those ladies were throwing baby boys out with the recycling, but – oh, well.
Aegeus went to the Oracle and made the usual offerings.
‘O Great Teller of the Future and Inhaler of Volcanic Gas!’ said the king. ‘Can I get a boy child over here, or what?’
On her three-legged stool, the priestess shuddered as the spirit of Apollo possessed her. ‘Have patience, O King! Avoid women until you return to Athens. Your son shall have a noble mother and the blood of the gods, but he must arrive in his own good time!’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Thank for your offering. Have a nice day.’
That answer frustrated Aegeus. He grumbled all the way back to his ship and prepared for his long voyage home.
If you travelled overland, Delphi wasn’t that far from Athens. But back then you never travelled overland, unless you were crazy or desperate. The roads were mostly muddy cow paths or treacherous mountain passes. The few usable stretches were infested with bandits, monsters and tacky outlet malls. Because of this, the Greeks always travelled by boat – which wasn’t exactly safe, just safer.
To return to Athens, Aegeus had to sail all the way around the Peloponnese, the big dangly chunk of land that makes up the southern Greek mainland. The trip was a pain, but since Aegeus wanted to make it home alive he didn’t have much choice. His enemies back home would love to catch him on the road, where they could ambush him, chop him into tiny pieces and make it look like the work of random monsters or enraged sheep.
So King Aegeus sailed around the Peloponnese. Every once in a while he docked at a city and had dinner with the local king. Aegeus would share his sob story and ask his host’s advice about the Oracle’s words. The local king would always be like, Oh, you want a wife? I can totally hook you up. My niece is available!
Everybody wanted a marriage alliance with a powerful city like Athens, but Aegeus remembered what the Oracle had said. He was supposed to avoid women until he got home. He kept declining offers for beautiful brides, which did not make him any less grumpy.
After weeks of travelling, he reached a little town called Troezen, about sixty miles south of Athens. All Aegeus had to do now was cross the Saronic Gulf and he’d be home.
The king of Troezen was a guy named Pittheus. Because his city was close to Athens, Pittheus and Aegeus knew each other pretty well and hung out sometimes, even though they had rival patron gods. Athens was all about Athena. Troezen’s patron god was Poseidon. (They had good taste down there in Troezen.)
Anyway, the two kings got to chatting about the Oracle’s prophecy.
Pittheus said, ‘Oh, heck, you need a wife? I’ve got a single daughter – you remember Aethra, my oldest?’
‘Dude, I appreciate it,’ Aegeus said, ‘but I’m supposed to avoid women until I get home, so –’
‘Aethra!’ called Pittheus. ‘Get in here, would you?’
The princess swept into the dining hall. ‘Hi.’
Aegeus’s jaw hit his plate. Aethra was all kinds of gorgeous.
‘Uh,’ said Aegeus. ‘Um, uh …’
Pittheus smirked. He knew his daughter had this effect on men. ‘So, as I was saying, Aethra is single and –’
‘B-but the prophecy,’ Aegeus managed.
Pittheus scratched his kingly sideburns. ‘The Oracle didn’t say you shouldn’t marry a woman, right? She said you should avoid women. Well, you’ve done your best. You’ve avoided women for weeks. You didn’t ask to see my daughter. She found you! So I think we’re good.’
Maybe Aegeus should have argued with that logic, but he didn’t.
Right there in the dining room, they had a quick Vegas-style wedding – the priestess of Hera, the flowers, the Elvis impersonators, the whole bit. Then Aethra went back to her room to change into something more comfortable while Aegeus rushed off to reapply his deodorant, brush his teeth and await his lovely bride i
n the honeymoon suite.
How did Aethra feel about all this?
Pro and con. Like I said earlier, women back then didn’t have much choice about who they married. Aethra definitely could’ve done worse. Aegeus wasn’t a bad-looking guy. He and her dad were friends, which meant he would probably treat her well. Athens was a big powerful city, so that would give her a lot of street cred with the other Greek queens.
On the negative side, Aethra already had a secret boyfriend – the god Poseidon.
As Troezen’s patron, Poseidon had first noticed the princess making sacrifices to him at the seaside. He’d decided to court her, because Aethra was super gorgeous. In no time she’d fallen for him.
Now that she was married to another guy, Aethra didn’t know what to do.
After the ceremony, while her new husband was brushing his teeth, the princess slipped out of the palace. She ran down to the seashore and waded to the nearby island of Sphairia, where she and Poseidon usually met.
Poseidon was waiting for her in a hammock between two palm trees. He was rocking a Tommy Bahama shirt and Bermuda shorts while drinking a fruity beverage out of a coconut shell.
‘Hey, babe,’ he said. ‘What’s new?’
‘Well … um, I got married.’
‘Say what?’
Aethra told him what had happened. ‘I – I suppose I could run away with you,’ she offered hopefully.
Poseidon smiled. He liked Aethra, but not that much. Gods always moved on, eventually. This seemed like as good a time as any.
‘No, no,’ he said. ‘Aegeus is a good guy, for an Athenian. He’ll make you a fine husband. This will have to be goodbye for us, babe, but it’s been great. Honestly!’
He snapped his fingers. A disco ball lowered from one of the palm trees. ‘Last Dance’ began playing in the background, because Poseidon was a total sucker for Donna Summer. Don’t ask me. It’s impossible to hang out in his palace without him playing that old disco stuff.
Anyway, they had one more quality evening together. Then Aethra hurried off to see her new husband, who must have been really careful about brushing his teeth, because he didn’t notice how long his bride had been gone or the fact that she smelled like Sea Breeze aftershave.
Aethra and Aegeus spent their honeymoon in Troezen. Aegeus wasn’t anxious to get home, since all he had waiting for him there were problems and enemies. After a few weeks, the king started having strange dreams about his new wife swimming across the Saronic Gulf with a baby boy in her arms.
Finally he asked Aethra about this.
She blushed. ‘Well … I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant.’
‘That’s awesome!’ said Aegeus.
‘Except … I’m not sure if you’re the dad.’
She confided to her husband about her fling with Poseidon.
Aegeus took the news better than you might expect. The gods were always falling in love with mortal princesses. He couldn’t blame Aethra for being swept off her feet by an immortal hunk with supernatural good looks and limitless power. And he couldn’t curse Poseidon without getting hit by a tsunami or swallowed by an earthquake.
‘Okay, I understand,’ said Aegeus. ‘But if the child is a boy I am going to claim him as my son, all right?’
‘What if it’s a girl?’ Aethra asked.
Aegeus sighed. ‘Let’s think positive. A boy would be awesome! I’ll make some arrangements.’
‘Arrangements?’
‘You’ll see.’
The next day, Aegeus took Aethra to a hill outside the city. At the crest stood a boulder the size of a two-car garage. A dozen of the king’s men had wrapped ropes around the boulder and were harnessing them to a team of horses.
‘Whoa,’ Aethra said. ‘You’re going to move that rock?’
‘Yeah, here’s the deal.’ Aegeus walked over to a shallow pit next to the boulder. He unbuckled his sword. ‘This sword’s hilt has the royal crest of Athens on it, see?’
‘The owl and the olive branch?’
‘Yeah. And those are my initials on the pommel. It’s an excellent blade – Celestial bronze and everything.’ He tossed the sword into the pit. ‘I’m also burying these.’
From one of his servants, he took a polished wooden shoe box. He opened it for Aethra, and inside were … you guessed it. Shoes.
Aethra whistled. ‘Those are some nice sandals.’
‘Oh, yeah. Leather soles. Good-quality straps. Arch support. These shoes will last a lifetime.’ Aegeus tossed the shoe box in the pit.
Now you might be wondering: what was the big deal about a pair of shoes? But back then good kicks were super hard to find. You couldn’t just stroll into Foot Locker and score some Adidas. If you wanted to be a hero, making your way through monsters’ lairs, vipers’ nests and battlefields, you didn’t want to go barefoot. You definitely didn’t want to be slipping on blood and gore in a cheap pair of flip-flops. Good shoes could keep you alive just as well as a good sword.
Aegeus’s men grabbed the ropes. The lines went taut. The team of horses strained. Very slowly, they dragged the giant rock until it covered the pit.
‘There,’ Aegeus said. ‘If our child is a boy, wait until he comes of age and then tell him that I left him some gifts under this rock. If he can retrieve them, he is worthy of being my son. He should then make his way to Athens.’
Aethra frowned. ‘You want me to tell him this? Where will you be?’
‘My dear, you know those strange dreams I’ve been having? They’re getting worse. If you come with me to Athens, I’m sure my enemies will kill you. They’ll never allow you to give birth to my heir. Even if the child were born, he’d never be safe in Athens. It’s best I return home alone and keep our marriage a secret. That way my enemies will think I’ve failed to have a son. They’ll be content to wait for me to die. Once my son is old enough to defend himself, he can come to Athens and take his rightful place as the crown prince!’
‘So you want me to stay here and raise the kid by myself for, like, sixteen, seventeen years.’
‘That would be great. Thanks.’ Aegeus kissed her. ‘Well, my ship is waiting in the harbour. Love you! Have a good pregnancy!’
Aegeus sailed back to Athens and left Aethra in Troezen to wait for her child to be born.
She kind of hoped she would have a girl, because then she could rest easy. Neither Aegeus nor Poseidon would care … being the enlightened feminist guys that they were. Aethra could raise her daughter in peace and not have to worry about shoes under boulders.
But if the child were a boy … well, Aethra at least hoped he would grow up to be a hero. Then both of his dads would be proud to claim him.
As you can probably guess, she had a boy, and the Greek storytellers spent the next thousand years arguing who his dad was. Some said Aegeus. Some said Poseidon. Some said he had two fathers, which I’m pretty sure is medically impossible. Then again we’re talking about gods, so who knows?
As for Aethra, she raised her son by herself for the first seventeen years, which took a special kind of heroism.
Aethra’s son was big and healthy, which you’d expect, since he had one or two powerful dads. She named him Theseus, meaning the gathering, maybe because she hoped he would gather all the people of Greece together into one big happy family. Or maybe because the kid was so high-energy that Aethra and a dozen nursemaids had to spend all day trying to gather him up.
Most demigods I’ve met have attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. It keeps you alive on the battlefield, because you’re so aware of everything. But Theseus was the original ADHD poster child. He was hyper in diapers. He was bouncing off the Corinthian columns. He was the super-caffeinated kid, the deficit demigod, the – well, you get the idea. The kid was a handful.
As he grew, he quickly ran out of things to do and bad guys to kill. All the monsters near Troezen? Toast. Bandits, murderers, evil geniuses trying to take over Ancient Greece? Forget it. They were dead before Theseus’s naptime.
 
; By the time he was seventeen, Theseus was so skillful in combat and so incredibly bored that his mom decided to send him to his father’s city. She needed a break.
She led him to the hill with the huge boulder.
‘My son,’ she said, ‘your real father is Aegeus, king of Athens. Or he might be Poseidon, god of the sea. Or possibly both.’
She tried to explain the details, but Theseus lost interest. ‘What’s with the rock?’
‘Aegeus said that when you were old enough, I should bring you here. If you can figure out a way to move the boulder and retrieve the gifts beneath, you should seek out your father in Athens.’
‘Gifts? Cool!’ Theseus walked once around the boulder, then pressed his hands against the stone.
‘Don’t get a hernia,’ his mother warned. ‘Your father used a dozen men and a team of horses to –’
BOOM.
The boulder toppled over and rolled downhill.
Theseus had the attention span of a gerbil, but he was a genius at sizing up his opponents – even if that opponent was a large rock. He had noticed immediately that the boulder was lopsided and top-heavy on the left. Over the past seventeen years, the soil on that side had eroded. All Theseus had to do was give the stone a good push on the right and down it went.
Of course, Theseus wasn’t so good at foreseeing consequences. The boulder barrelled through a nearby village, destroying several huts and scaring some pigs before rolling to a stop.
‘Sorry!’ Theseus yelled downhill.
He knelt by the pit where the boulder had stood. ‘Nice sword. And – OH! SHOES!’
Theseus strapped on the sandals. He ran a few laps around the hilltop to break them in. ‘These fit great!’
‘Yes,’ said his mother. ‘They have excellent arch support. But, Theseus, about your destiny –’
‘Right!’ He leaped around like a ballet dancer. ‘How do I get to Athens?’
‘There are two routes,’ his mother said. ‘One is an easy trip by sea, directly across the Saronic Gulf.’
‘Boring!’ Theseus drew his sword and continued to jog in circles, slashing at imaginary enemies, though his mother had told him a thousand times not to run with sabers.