King of Ithaca (Adventures of Odysseus)

Nobody moved. The Ithacans had been in enough fights together now to know that the time to strike was still moments away. Before the Taphians had come into sight Eperitus had felt a knot of anxiety in his stomach, but now battle was at hand the tension eased out of him and an intense sensitivity to his surroundings took over. He was aware of every slight movement, every sound and, despite the twilight, every detail of each of his enemies. He could see the redness in their cheeks from sampling the wine, and the light of life in their eyes, shining with cheer because tonight they hoped to drink themselves into a stupor. But for them the night would never come, and their eyes would soon be dark for ever.

Odysseus signalled quietly to Antiphus, pointing at himself and then the driver to indicate his chosen target. Antiphus nodded in reply and indicated the lead Taphian. In the half-light of early evening neither shot would be easy, but Eperitus trusted both men to find their marks. Then Odysseus raised himself on one knee, waited for Antiphus to do the same, and in the same instant their bows twanged.

Both of the chosen men fell. The driver pitched sideways out of the cart, whilst the lead soldier half-raised a hand to his throat – where Antiphus’s arrow had struck – before dropping to the ground. The squealing cart halted and for a brief instant everything was silent as the surviving Taphians looked about themselves in consternation. Then Eperitus leapt to his feet and ran at them screaming, his sword raised above his head. The others followed, yelling insanely as they dashed across the short distance separating the trees from the road.

One man made a clumsy effort to loosen the shield from his back and turn it towards them, but failed to hold its weight in his hurry and dropped it. An instant later Eperitus’s sword had swept his head from his shoulders and sent it bouncing back down the road to the harbour. The remaining man on the wagon burst into tears and threw his arms out in supplication, pleading for his life in a garbled and hideous-sounding dialect. Realizing he had no heart for a fight Eperitus ignored him and looked for the other man, who he saw duck beneath a swathing cut from Halitherses’s sword and sprint up the road to the town.

Antiphus fell in beside his captain and raised his bow to shoot the man down, but before he could release the arrow from between his thumb and forefinger, Mentor and another soldier hurdled the stone wall and dived upon the fleeing Taphian, smashing him to the ground beneath their combined weight. He struggled ferociously, and not until more help arrived did they manage to control him.

Strangely, when the two men were hauled before Odysseus for judgement their attitudes reversed. When Odysseus revealed his identity, the old man who had gibbered insanely for mercy became silent and stared at the prince with defiance; the younger man, however, crumbled with fear and began begging for his life. He fell to his knees before the prince and wrapped his arms about his legs.

‘Don’t kill me, lord,’ he cried, his accent thick and barely intelligible. ‘Spare me and I’ll fight for you against Polytherses. We came here to support Eupeithes, but since he was deposed many of us have lost our reason to be here.’

‘Shut up, you grovelling piece of snot,’ growled his comrade.

Mentor cuffed him about the back of the head, persuading him to silence.

‘I’ll spare you,’ Odysseus said. The kneeling man looked up in surprise. ‘If you help us get into the palace.’

‘Say nothing, Mentes,’ ordered the other Taphian, earning himself another blow. This time blood trickled from one of his nostrils, proof that Mentor’s patience was thinning.

‘What do you say?’ Odysseus persisted. ‘I give you your life, and in exchange you get me into the palace.’

The man seemed suddenly uncertain, but as Odysseus raised the point of his sword and placed it against the soft flesh of his throat he swallowed quickly and nodded.

‘I’ll do it. I can tell you all you need to know about Poly-therses’s defences. If you let me return now, I can open the gate for you in the middle of the night.’

‘Don’t mock me, Mentes,’ Odysseus replied with a frown. ‘I intend to drive this wagon up to the palace gates with you at my side. And in return for your life you’ll not only tell the guard I’m one of the wine merchants, you’ll also see I’m made welcome for the night. Then, when the palace is sleeping, you can help me open the gates so that the rest of my men can enter. I want you close to me the whole time, close enough for me to slit your throat if you show any sign of revealing my name. And only when Ithaca is rid of Polytherses and your countrymen will I spare your life. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, lord,’ Mentes nodded fervently. ‘I’ve told you I have no love for Polytherses – I’ll do all these things you ask, and more if required.’