Theseus and Ariadne's thread

Long ago, the city of Athens had to send seven boys and seven girls to Crete every year, to the court of King Minos. Beneath his palace lay a labyrinth built by the clever Daedalus, so tangled that no one had ever found the way out. At its centre lived the Minotaur, a creature with the body of a man and the head of a bull.

That year, a young man volunteered to go with the others: Theseus, son of King Aegeus. "I'll go with them," he told his father, "and I'll bring them home." Aegeus held him for a long time on the dock, then watched him climb aboard.

In Crete, a young woman watched the newcomers from a palace terrace. She was Ariadne, the daughter of Minos. She thought it was wrong to shut young people in the labyrinth, and that evening she came to find Theseus in secret. "I have no magic sword to give you," she whispered. "But I have this." She handed him a ball of red wool. "Tie the end at the entrance and unwind it as you walk. To get out, just follow the thread."

The next day, Theseus stepped into the labyrinth with the thread knotted to a ring on the door. The passages twisted, split and doubled back on themselves. He passed walls he was sure he had seen before, but the thread kept sliding through his fingers, thin and steady. The deeper he went, the more the air smelled of straw and dust. Soon he heard heavy breathing, like a large animal asleep.

At the centre, the Minotaur rose and lowered its horns. Theseus was afraid, of course, but he kept thinking of the thirteen others waiting outside. The struggle went on for a long time in a cloud of dust, and when it was over, the Minotaur lay still. It would never again demand the children of Athens.

The way back was long. Theseus wound the thread round his hand, turn after turn, and the ball grew fatter as the light came back. When he finally stepped out, Ariadne was waiting by the door. "You followed it all the way," she said with a smile, and she took back the ball, almost as round as when she had given it to him.

That night, Theseus, Ariadne and the young Athenians slipped aboard their ship and left Crete without a sound. The boat glided over a very calm sea. The youngest had fallen asleep on the coiled ropes, wrapped in blankets, and Ariadne watched the stars with the red ball of wool in her lap. Theseus held the tiller, eyes half closed, rocked by the lapping of the water against the hull.