King of Ithaca (Adventures of Odysseus)

‘I’m not certain yet, but if I can put something in his food the night before the race, something guaranteed to make him ill, then he won’t be able to run and Icarius will be forced to concede. It might not be the way others would approve of, but my wits are my gift from the gods, just as Little Ajax’s is his great speed. The only problem is that I’ve no idea of herb lore and don’t know what I could use to poison him. Even if I could, I wouldn’t know how to administer it without the risk of others being made ill too.’

Penelope took Odysseus’s hand and held it. ‘You may have the method, my darling, but I have the means. Clytaemnestra knows the properties of every herb in the Eurotas valley, as well as how to use them. She’ll give me something to put in Little Ajax’s drink at tonight’s feast. I know the wine stewards, and they’ll do whatever I ask of them.’

Odysseus returned her grin. ‘You aren’t only beautiful and desirable, Penelope, you’re also very cunning. The gods could have made us for each other. And one day you’ll make the most wonderful queen Ithaca has ever had.’

It was the morning of the race, a fine spring morning with washed blue skies and a strong breeze blowing in from the Taygetus Mountains. Odysseus stood with Agamemnon, Tyndareus and Icarius under the shade of the apple orchard, waiting for Little Ajax to arrive. It was almost half a year since he had come to Sparta, and with spring approaching the prince felt more keenly than ever the urge to return home. Something in his blood told him matters were getting worse back on Ithaca, and that his people were crying out for him.

‘I don’t think he’s coming,’ Tyndareus announced.

‘Then the competition is void,’ Icarius declared. ‘Penelope doesn’t go to either suitor.’

‘Odysseus wins by default,’ Agamemnon corrected.

Icarius noticed a faint smile of triumph pass across Odysseus’s face and had to bite his lip. ‘He’ll come. Perhaps he drank too much last night.’

As they spoke, Little Ajax appeared at the entrance to the city walls. He was accompanied by Teucer, who twitched repeatedly at his friend’s shoulder as they approached. Odysseus, though frustrated to see his challenger had mustered enough strength to show up for the race, noted the fragility with which he walked. Little Ajax’s face was bloodless beneath his tan and there was not a man amongst them who did not notice the weakened state of the warrior. Suddenly he paused, put a hand on his stomach and ran behind the stone wall that encircled the orchard. Moments later loud noises declared unceremoniously the cause of his distraction.

Despite the chill wind that blew down from the mountains, Odysseus threw off his cloak and stood naked on the dirt road, ready to begin the race back up to the palace. When he finally re-emerged, Little Ajax quickly shed his own clothing and took up his place beside his opponent.

‘You bastard,’ he growled beneath his breath. ‘You did this to me, didn’t you?’

‘I’ve evened things up,’ Odysseus admitted. ‘And now I’m going to beat you.’

Little Ajax’s innards groaned in response, sending a spasm of pain through him like a punch to the midriff. He seized his stomach with both hands and bit back a grunt of agony.

‘Don’t be so confident, you Ithacan swine. I know it was you in Penelope’s room, though you’re too cowardly to admit it. But even blaming one of your own men won’t save her for you. I’m still the fastest man in Greece.’

At that, and without waiting for the signal, he sprang off. Odysseus looked in disbelief as the short, muscular man sprinted away from him. Within moments he was already back up to the city walls.

‘Go on then!’ Tyndareus bellowed.

An instant later Odysseus was in pursuit, running as fast as his legs would propel him. He was a strong runner, confident of his ability to compete with anyone, and he had the endurance for longer races such as this one through the streets of Sparta. He was also exhilarated by the challenge and felt a new release of energy flooding his arteries; the muscles in his legs bore his awkward, heavy frame with ease, and as he used his arms to balance himself and build up a rhythm he could sense his pace quickening. Despite Little Ajax’s head start, the race was on.