Theseus Read online

  Theseus

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Preview

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Copyright

  Theseus: The King Who Killed the Minotaur

  Tony Robinson and Richard Curtis

  Preview

  Aegeus grasped Theseus by the shoulders and looked deep into his eyes as he explained the horror. Theseus had never seen his father look frightened before.

  ‘Somewhere below the Palace of King Minos lives a monster called the Minotaur. It is half a giant man, and half a giant bull, with dark green scaly skin and broken teeth stained red with human blood. Every year, Minos sacrifices fourteen young Greeks to it. He sends them into his maze, which is so brilliantly designed – God knows by whose sick mind – so full of twists and turns that it’s impossible for anyone to find their way out. But the Minotaur knows every inch of it. The young men and women who enter it never come out – the monster eats them alive.’

  ‘And this year, it’s Athens’ turn to provide a meal for the Minotaur, is it?’ asked Theseus.

  ‘That’s right,’ replied Aegeus. ‘Tonight, in the temple, the young people will draw lots to decide who should go.‘

  ‘Well, I’ll go for one,’ said Theseus, ‘and try and sort this thing out.‘

  Dedication

  From Tony to Kate and Huw Illingworth, and in memory of Dave.

  From Richard to the Bad Girl in Black.

  Chapter One

  1 – A Snake in the Sandal

  It was night, a pitch black night. The sky was blacker than the blackest thing you’ve ever seen – and then a little blacker than that. The streets were full of deep, dark shadows. Everything was still. Then one shadow moved: it was a woman, dodging from doorway to doorway in the dark, with a small bundle in her arms. She was very old, bent double from fear and exhaustion, and she was crying. Suddenly, at the end of the street, three men appeared. Their swords were out. They were looking for her and ready for the kill. The woman flattened herself against a door and held her breath, terrified that she would be found. And then found dead the next morning. The men’s echoing footsteps grew louder and louder. Had they seen her?

  ‘I’m sure she went this way,’ snapped the tall one.

  ‘No, we’ve missed her,’ growled the short one angrily.

  ‘Let’s try by the harbour,’ added the one who was a pretty normal size, but had very bad teeth.

  They moved off and the old woman took her chance. She staggered round the corner and before her saw the looming outline of the Palace of the King of Athens. Holding tight to her bundle, she climbed the huge, high steps and prayed that when she reached the massive door at the top, someone would hear her knocking.

  And they did. The great brass doors opened and she found herself in an enormous dark room. Ghostly shadows seemed to move in its corners, like animals moving in a forest at night. But fear made the old woman bold, and she shouted into the darkness:

  ‘The King, the King! I must talk to the King! Bring me to King Aegeus!!!’

  In an instant the room was filled with the light of a hundred flickering lanterns. The shadows turned into people, and all their eyes were on the old woman whose shoulder was cut and dripped blood onto the stone floor.

  Another second passed, then the giant doors at the other end of the room crashed open, and there stood the King: he was short and stocky and the bronze crown on his head shone in the firelight.

  ‘Who wants me?’ he called.

  The old woman stepped forward. Her voice choked as she spoke.

  ‘My Lord – my King! Your summer palace has been attacked by soldiers. The Queen is dead. Everyone is dead!’

  The King’s face showed not a flicker of emotion. ‘Everyone?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘Everyone except The old lady reached forward to show him what she held in her arms. It was a baby boy. ‘Everyone except your son, Theseus.’

  King Aegeus gently placed his hand on the old woman’s shoulder and whispered, ‘My brother Laius has done this.’

  Then he wiped the blood from his hand, took his son in his arms and walked back through the towering doors. The whole palace waited to hear the sound of his rage and fury but there was silence – absolute silence. It was only later, just before morning, that the guard outside the King’s room heard him crying.

  *

  When his wife was buried, Aegeus proclaimed that his son, baby Theseus, was to be taken to the town of Troezen.

  ‘He will be safe there from my brother until he has grown to be a man. And when he is a man, then he will return home and together we will avenge his mother’s death.’

  ‘But no road in the world is as dangerous as the road to Troezen,’ cried the old nurse. ‘It’s full of bandits and ogres and man-eating monsters so disgusting it makes your hair turn white just thinking about them.’

  Aegeus gave a flicker of a smile. ‘I won’t be taking any risks with the life of the next King of Athens,’ he replied. ‘My son and I will go by sea.’

  *

  So they sailed safely to Troezen: but when they arrived, the King didn’t go straight into the city. Instead, he took his six strongest soldiers to a nearby hill on the top of which sat an enormous stone.

  ‘No man has ever lifted this stone,’ he said. The soldiers weren’t surprised. It was massive. Then King Aegeus added, ‘You lot will be the first.’

  And so the poor soldiers took off their helmets, rolled up their sleeves and got down to work. They heaved, they strained, they made funny little groaning noises. Their veins stood out on their foreheads like big blue worms and their muscles bulged like coconuts. And finally, fffffiiiiinally, the stone moved. But it didn’t go shooting up above their heads – in fact, it didn’t even reach their knees. No – all these tough guys could manage was a gap the size of a thimble between the stone and the earth. Immediately Aegeus slipped a sword and a pair of sandals beneath it before DOOOMMMPH!!, the rock crashed down again and the men collapsed in an exhausted sweaty heap.

  ‘When Theseus lifts that rock on his own and retrieves that sword and those sandals, that’s when he will be ready to return to Athens,’ Aegeus announced. Then he placed his son in the trust of two specially chosen old friends and returned to Athens. By sea.

  *

  The old friends just happened to be the two greatest teachers in Greece. If anyone could bring up a boy worthy to be King of Athens, it was them. One was called Daedalus: he was tall, thin, clever, shortsighted and the greatest inventor in the world. The other was Hercules: he was also tall, but strong, the strongest man in the world. And the fastest runner. And the best fighter. Daedalus was going to teach Theseus to be clever. Hercules would teach him to be … a Hero.

  *

  For the next ten years, the pattern was the same. Every day Hercules raced Theseus up the hill and round the big stone, and every day Theseus ran a little faster.

  And in the evening, Daedalus taught him maths.

  Every day Hercules challenged Theseus to tear up trees and wrestle with snakes, and every day Theseus got a little stronger.

  And in the evening, Daedalus taught him geometry.

  Every day Hercules and Theseus banged their heads against the city walls, threw javelins at eagles, and fooled around with lions, and every day Theseus grew a little wilder.

  And in the evening, Daedalus made Theseus work out difficult problems like: ‘How do you calculate the amount of water in a bath?’

  And in the end, Theseus had had enough of the man in glasses.

  ‘Look,’ he said one night, throwing his exercise book firmly in the
dustbin. ‘I’m not interested in maths, I’m not interested in geometry and I’m definitely not interested in the amount of water in a bath, or for that matter in a shower or a wash-basin. All this brain-box stuff is a waste of your time and a waste of mine. Please will you go away.’

  Daedalus was silent. His pupil might be cocky, he might be rude, but he was the King’s son and Daedalus cared what happened to him. He was going to have to learn that strength without brains was like a horse without legs – useless.

  ‘Go away,’ Theseus repeated firmly.

  ‘Very well,’ said Daedalus, sadly. ‘You’re the Prince — I’m only the teacher. I pray that you will learn by yourself the importance of brains, and that you won’t pay too heavily for this mistake.’ Then he packed his inventions – his pen that wrote underwater, his self-tying shoelaces and his luminous book for reading after dark – and left the city.

  ‘That’s the last I’ll see of Theseus,’ he thought as he trudged off into the sunset. Which just goes to show how wrong even the cleverest bloke can be.

  *

  So now Theseus spent all his time with Hercules, and he grew stronger and stronger until one day, the day of his fifteenth birthday, he woke up, looked out of the window at the big stone on the hill-top and knew, just knew that he could lift it. He strode out of the town and someone shouted at him, ‘Theseus, where are you going?’ But the young Prince didn’t answer. He just kept on walking until he came to the bottom of the hill.

  ‘He’s going to try and lift the big stone,’ went up the cry. And everyone dropped their knitting and their tools and their toy soldiers and streamed out of the dty to follow him. It was like the Pied Piper of Hamelin – in a second, whoosh, the city was empty, everyone running at the heels of Theseus, no one of course believing for a moment that he could lift the thing. ‘It took six big men to lift it when the King was here, and that was only just,’ said someone with a long memory.

  ‘Still, it makes a day out,’ agreed a couple who’d brought along some bread and cheese.

  When they reached the stone, everyone gathered in a circle – peasants, soldiers, children, stray dogs, peanut sellers – and in the centre. Theseus stripped down to the waist. He took a deep breath, and everyone, went silent. Then he crouched, squeezed his fingers under the rock … ‘I bet that hurt,’ said one kid … and heaved. And heaved. And, inch by inch, the rock left the ground; at first it was toe high, then knee high, then waist high, and finally right above his head. With one last explosive push, he threw it aside and it rolled down the hillside, flattening vines, olive trees and goats, until it flew over the white cliff and smashed into a thousand pieces on the beach below. Everyone screamed, and cheered, and threw their hats in the air, even the couple who hadn’t noticed that, along with the vines and the goats, their bread and cheese had been fair and squarely squashed.

  But Theseus didn’t watch the stone as it rolled away. He was staring down at his feet. There, where the stone had been, was a short, stubby, rusty sword with a big chunky ruby in its handle and a pair of old leather sandals. A snake was sticking its head through the top of one of the sandals, and its eyes were shining with hunger. But a man who could throw a boulder wasn’t going to be worried by a little snake, even though its poison sacs were bulging and its tongue was quivering in a distinctly threatening manner. No, Theseus just flicked it out of the way, and placed his feet firmly inside the shoes.

  ‘I’ve done it,’ he said. ‘Now I’m going back to Athens.’

  ‘But there’s no ship ready,’ Hercules pointed out.

  ‘Ship, my foot! I’m going by land.’

  Everyone gasped – ‘What about the bandits, what about the ogres, what about the …’ and their hair began to turn white as they thought about it. But Theseus just smiled, picked up the sword and left Troezen forever. As far as he could see, he wasn’t worthy to be Prince of Athens if he couldn’t deal with a slightly tricky journey.

  *

  After ten days, he saw a village ahead of him, and beyond it a great forest growing up the sides of a mountain. He strode briskly towards it, when suddenly villagers in big green hats came running up to him crying, ‘Whatever you do, don’t enter the forest!’

  ‘Why not?’ asked Theseus, not breaking his stride for a moment.

  ‘Because you’ll fall into the clutches of the Great Tosser,’ they shouted, every one of them shivering with fear.

  ‘O, yeh – and what’s his game?’ asked Theseus, heading on.

  ‘He tosses people off mountains,’ they replied, but already Theseus was too far away to hear. He strode on into the forest, unafraid.

  The sky above him grew darker and the air around him grew colder. The path wound higher and higher. On Theseus’ left side the huge trees rustled with unseen creatures. On his right was the mountainside, rocky, sheer and dizzyingly frightening.

  Then something burst out of the trees. It was a little man the height of a small umbrella stand.

  ‘Prepare for combat,’ said the little man, standing still and perfectly balanced, ready to attack. ‘One of us must die.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Theseus and with a deft left-footer kicked the little man off the mountain. ‘It’s you.’

  Higher and higher Theseus climbed until suddenly two enormous trees blocked his path.

  ‘What a bore,’ he thought. But then he looked down, and noticed something very strange. The trees were wearing sandals. In fact, they weren’t trees at all. They were legs; and perched on top of them was a huge body, and on top of the body Theseus assumed there must be a massive head because, from somewhere up in the clouds, a voice came bellowing down to him.

  ‘Turn back, stranger,’ it went. ‘I am the Great Tosser.’

  ‘I thought the Great Tosser was the little bloke back there,’ replied Theseus.

  ‘No,’ boomed the bellowing voice. ‘That was my cousin – the Little Tosser. He was just on a training scheme. Now prepare for combat, one of us must die.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Theseus for the second time that day. But this time he wasn’t very happy about it. How could he possibly win a fight against something the size of a small castle?

  Then his mind flashed back to long ago – all those boring old chess games he’d been forced to play with boring old Daedelus. And what was it Daedelus kept telling him?

  ‘Always go for your opponent’s weak spot.’

  And as he remembered, he glanced down at the Tosser’s right sandal. He could see the giant’s little toe sticking out, all fat and pink and hairy, and it wiggled every time the Tosser spoke.

  Theseus immediately dropped to the ground, seized the toe in both hands and yanked it backwards.

  CRAAAAAAACK!!!!! went the toe, the Tosser jack-knifed with pain, and as his great red face loomed into sight to inspect the damage, Theseus leapt into the air and nutted him on the nose.

  ‘WHAAAAARGHH!!’ went the Tosser as he rocked backwards on his heels. Round and round went his arms like two giant windmills as he desperately tried to regain his balance. But he was too big and heavy and clumsy. He snatched at a branch – it came away in his hands. He grabbed at a tree – and pulled it up by its roots. Then slowly, so slowly it seemed like slow motion, the Great Tosser toppled backwards off the path and fell

  down! down! down!

  the mountainside and crashed onto the rocks below. He lay there dead as a dodo – and that’s very dead indeed.

  Night came, and Theseus just kept on walking. Early the following morning he came to a clearing dotted with toadstools and little clumps of pine trees.

  A friendly old peasant in a red hat popped out from behind a tree. ‘Whatever you do, don’t go any further,’ he urged, ‘Or you’ll fall into the clutches of Pine Bender.’

  ‘Really?’ said Theseus.

  ‘Yes, really,’ replied the old man. ‘He drugs travellers with mysterious potions and when they’re asleep, he bends the topmost branches of two pine trees down to the ground, and ties their arms and leg
s to them. Then he lets go, the pine trees shoot up into the air, the travellers are ripped up the middle and their mangled bodies are left dangling from the tree tops.’

  ‘Thanks for the warning,’ murmured Theseus, turning slightly green.

  ‘You look a bit shaken, son,’ said the friendly peasant. ‘Why not sit down with me for a minute and have a flask of Dandelion and Burdock.’

  Gratefully, Theseus took the flask, tilted his head back and poured a stream of the refreshing liquid into his mouth.

  He gazed up. What a glorious forest it was! The pine trees grew hundreds of feet into the air and their tops were covered with beautiful red flowers. Beautiful blood red flowers.

  Wait a minute! Pine trees have funny little pine cones, thought Theseus. Not beautiful blood red flowers. These weren’t flowers at all!!! They were the left over bits from the bodies of poor unfortunate travellers.

  SPLOOODGE! Theseus spat the poisoned Dandelion and Burdock straight into the friendly peasant’s face and ripped off his red hat. But it wasn’t only the hat that came off. As Theseus pulled the hat, the peasant’s whole face seemed to come away in his hand as well. Because it wasn’t a face at all, but a Friendly Peasant Mask, underneath which lurked his drinking companion’s real features. And they were horrible features. Instead of pleasant blue eyes, Theseus saw vicious yellow eyes, black teeth and slaver dribbling down the monster’s chin.

  ‘You are Pine Bender,’ said Theseus, his eyes shining with anger.

  ‘Yes,’ squawked Pine Bender and dark brown spittle shot from his mouth as he rushed towards Theseus, his hands like vulture’s claws about to rip the flesh off their victim. But Theseus was too quick for him, and in a second had him tight under one arm. Then, as Pine Bender kicked and wriggled and whined, Theseus pulled down two pine trees with his free hand and tied the struggling murderer to the topmost branches.