The girl giggled. "You mustn't say such things, Master Theseus! Ariadne's the loveliest woman in all Knossos."
"What—?" Theseus' broad brow furrowed, and he stood with mouth half open, looking more than a little stupid. "Are you trying to confuse me, wench? If this Ariadne's such a beauty, why must she send secretly for prisoners from her father's dungeon in order to find lovers?"
An uneasy shadow seemed to fall across the maid's pretty face. She moved restlessly. "It—it's the curse of Pasiphae, Master Theseus."
"The curse of Pasiphae—?" Theseus looked blank. "What's that, wench? Tell me of it."
"Of the curse?" The girl's smile grew suddenly stiff, and her hands moved in a small, nervous gesture.
Then, quickly, she came close to her barrel-chested companion and slipped her arms about him. "No wonder you're the pride of Athens, Master Theseus! Close to you this way, I feel your strength. It brings a woman all sorts of thoughts—"
Belligerently, Theseus scowled and pushed her back. "None of that, wench! This curse—tell me about it!"
The girl drew a deep, unhappy breath, "If you must, then—" And, after a moment's pause: "You know, of course, that Pasiphae is King Minos' wife; Ariadne's mother?"
"Yes."
"And also that she lusted after the sacred bull of Zeus—"