Little Theseus had a secret. He then lived with his mother in a tiny hut on a wild, sea battered part of the coast called Trozen. For all of his poor house and worn-out clothes, he was proud, because he had a secret. He knew he was son of a king. His mother had told him during a storm when they had only a very small catch of fish.
Great, now were lost AND late.
Uhhh... We missed the turn.
But mother, then why are you not a queen and I a prince? Why don't we live in a palace instead of a hovel?
Politics, my son. Your father has a cousin, a very powerful lord with 50 sons. They are waiting for your father to die so they can divide the kingdom. If they knew he had a son of his own, they would kill the son immediately.
A king, truly, and one day you will know his name.
When can I go to him? When can I go there and help my father?
When you’re grown. When you know how to fight your enemies.
This was Theseus’ secret...and he needed a secret to keep him warm in those long, cold, hard years. One of his worst troubles was his size. His being small for his age bothered him terribly, for how could he become a great fighter and help his father against terrible enemies if he couldn’t even hold his own against the village boys? He exercised constantly by running up and down the cliffs, swimming in the roughest seas, lifting logs and rocks, bending young trees; and indeed he grew much stronger, but he was still very dissatisfied with himself.
(Daily vertical jog) ⇦
Either that's the spice isles, or we missed our turn.
The Niña, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria
One day, when he had been beaten in a fight with a larger boy, he felt so gloomy that he went down to the beach and lay on the sand watching the waves, hoping that a big one would come along and cover him.
I will not live this way! I will not be small and weak and poor. I will be a king, a warrior...or I will not be at all.