King of Ithaca (Adventures of Odysseus)

Quickly, as if afraid that he might lose his determination for the grim task, the prince knelt down beside one of the soldiers and placed the palm of his hand firmly over the man’s mouth. His eyes flickered open and looked up, but before he could react Odysseus had cut open his throat. The first victim died at once, his ruptured arteries jetting thick gouts of blood up Odysseus’s bare arms.

Without pausing he moved to his next victim, this time sitting astride the torso and leaning his weight onto the hand with which he covered the man’s mouth. In an instant he sawed through the soft flesh of his windpipe and stood again to move to the next Taphian.

Mentor and Antiphus waited no longer and joined in the butchery with silent determination. They gave little thought to the work, beyond the occasional grimace of disgust at the amount of blood that covered them, and very soon two dozen men lay murdered in their sleep. Not one had made a noise and few had even woken to set eyes upon the avengers who killed them.

Then the air changed and Odysseus looked up from his tenth victim. There was a faintness now in the sky above the stables, and he knew that if the attack were to come it would be soon.

He stood. The others finished the work at hand and stood with him. Odysseus tucked his gore-drenched dagger into his belt and drew the long sword that hung there. He gestured his men towards the gates: to surprise the sleepy guards and kill them would be the work of moments. Mentor and Antiphus drew their swords beside him and together they looked through the open portal at the shadowy city beyond. And then they heard a noise behind them.

‘Stay where you are,’ said a familiar voice. They turned to see the scar-faced Taphian, standing with a bow in his hand and an arrow fitted. It was aimed directly at Odysseus. ‘I knew there was something not quite right about you,’ he continued. ‘You’ve got too much of the warrior about you to be a mere merchant, and now I find you slitting the throats of my countrymen. But before you die I will find out whether you are more Spartan scum, or one of Odysseus’s men.’

Odysseus drew himself up and looked scornfully at the Taphian. ‘Don’t trouble yourself – I’ve concealed my name for too long as it is. I am Odysseus, son of Laertes, and you are trespassing on my father’s property.’

For a moment the concern on the Taphian’s face was visible, even in the darkness. After months of living uninvited under this man’s roof, helping himself to his food and wine, he felt now like the trespasser he was and longed to be anywhere other than in his presence. But he soon quashed his own dismay and, realizing that the key to Polytherses’s ultimate victory was at his mercy, smiled with satisfaction.

‘Guards!’ he called to the men outside. ‘Guards! Get in here and shut the gates. Bolt them. I think we can expect visitors soon.’

His loud voice woke the surviving men in the courtyard, who propped themselves up on their elbows to see what was happening. Somewhere in the town outside a cockerel cried out to herald the first light of dawn. And at that moment a horn sounded a single note, rising clear and strong through the morning air.

Chapter Twenty-nine

THE BATTLE FOR ITHACA

‘Come on then, lads,’ Halitherses said. ‘These Taphians have already overstayed their welcome; let’s send them to a new home in Hades’s halls. Eumaeus! I want you at my side with that hunting horn.’

He stood before a mixed force of guards and men from the town. There were over fifty of them, waiting for the first grey light of dawn to edge the darkness. Those who had escorted Odysseus to Mount Parnassus and Sparta had seen battle already and were calmly preparing their weapons and armour for the coming fight. The younger townsfolk, though lacking training or the proper arms and protection, were buoyed by thoughts of glory and making a name for themselves on their tiny island. The older men were stern-faced, thinking of the consequences of failure and determined to accept nothing less than victory. They knew that if Odysseus had been successful they would be inside the palace before the Taphians could wake, with every possibility of catching them entirely by surprise. But if he failed and the gates remained shut, then their attack would be short, bloody and fruitless.