King of Ithaca (Adventures of Odysseus)

Ships were easy to find when they reached the coast at dawn of the next day, and Odysseus had soon hired two merchantmen and their crews for the return to Ithaca. Eperitus was the last to board, and as he walked up the gangplank onto the unsteady craft there was a murmur of excitement amongst the Ithacans. They were going home at last and their conversation was full of the sights and sounds of their island, mixed cautiously with memories of family and friends. But they had also regained the sense of purpose that had been denied them in Sparta. As guests of Tyndareus they had been a burden, vagrant soldiers given temporary lodgings for the sake of their master. There, only Odysseus was of any importance and only he could influence their collective destiny. Now they were returning to fight for everything they held dear, and each man would be vital in the coming battle. On Ithaca, for better or worse, they would come into their own again as their spears and swords challenged the usurpers for the right to rule.

Neither Eperitus nor Odysseus told them about the supernatural events of the previous night. All they revealed on their return was that Damastor had shown himself to be a traitor by attempting to kill Odysseus, for which he had paid with his life. If Odysseus spoke with Penelope about it he did not tell Eperitus, and for his own part Eperitus did not share with Odysseus the fact that Clytaemnestra had warned him about Damastor.

Even between themselves, they had exchanged few words about the incident. Eperitus had thanked Odysseus in the straightforward manner of a soldier, and Odysseus had accepted his words of gratitude with a simple nod. The fact that he had sacrificed his best hope of regaining his homeland was not mentioned by either man, and they now turned their minds to the challenge that lay ahead. But both men knew that the bond between them had deepened. Each had saved the life of the other, and warriors do not forget such matters, even if they do not talk about them.

Rough seas and heavy rain made the passage difficult. They sailed all day and night, battling high winds and squalls with the Ithacans busy helping the ships’ crews in their struggle against the elements. Eperitus sat in a corner and was ill throughout the whole of the journey, an experience made much worse by the sensibility of his restored body. The only consolation was that the Spartan soldiers shared his agony, gazing emptily out from their own wretched corners of the deck, their faces pale and their half-lidded eyes filled with despair. Not one of them managed any sleep, and when the next morning there were shouts from the Ithacans that their destination was in sight, they were incapable of sharing in their jubilation. Only Penelope seemed unconcerned by the constant buffeting of the waves, and joined her husband at the prow to stare at the low silhouette of her new home.

Thick grey clouds meant they did not see the face of the sun that morning, although they sensed the sunrise in the east. The sea had calmed sufficiently for the merchant ships to anchor by a rocky cove off the south-eastern tip of the island – the only place on that rugged coast where they could disembark their human cargo with any degree of safety. Odysseus knew the spot well and had directed the ships’ captains here deliberately. To have landed anywhere else would have risked their being spotted, and the prince was keen to retain the element of surprise.

As soon as the last group of passengers had been rowed to the small pebble beach, Odysseus paid the remainder of the agreed fare and the ships hauled up their anchor stones once more. The crews waved to them and wished them well before setting sail again and drifting back out to sea.

The Ithacans spent a few silent moments looking about themselves and listening to the sounds of the breakers hitting the rocks and the wind whistling across the rugged cliff-face before them. Odysseus stamped his feet on the shingle, as if to convince himself it was real, then put his fists on his hips and took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the air of his home. The men felt no need for ceremony or pompous words to mark their return, and when Odysseus started up the narrow, ill-defined track that climbed awkwardly to the top of the cliff, they followed.