King of Ithaca (Adventures of Odysseus)

‘As ready as they’ll ever be, my lord. There are oarsmen waiting in the galley below, and we have a good crowd to ensure our departure is known by the whole island.’

‘I share your worries, old friend,’ Odysseus said, looking at the number of townsfolk who had come to see them off. ‘But our anchor ropes are cut and we must see this thing through to the end. I only hope I have a kingdom to return to when it’s all over.’

‘There’ll be a strong militia in place before the news spreads to Eupeithes,’ Damastor assured him. ‘Everything will be safe and secure.’

‘All the same, I pray the gods will watch over the place in our absence,’ Odysseus replied. ‘And may Mentor and the others have the good sense not to underestimate their opponents.’

At his signal the escort picked up their shields and spears and the slaves hoisted their burdens onto their shoulders. The expedition formed up in two files and set off, the townsfolk parting to let them through.

Odysseus walked beside Eperitus and they looked about themselves at the cheering crowds. The people called out Odysseus’s name again and again, honouring their prince as he set out upon whatever new mission his father had assigned to him. Eperitus caught the scent of the chelonion in his tunic and thought how little time he had had to get to know his new home. The Ithacan faces were unfamiliar and their voices strange compared with Alybas. He knew little about them or their island, where the hills were called mountains and the alien sea lay all around. And yet here he was, venturing into the unknown for the sake of a country and people not his own, but which he hoped one day would be.

He had spent only three days on the island, and with Odysseus as his guide had trekked its wooded hillsides and dusty cart-tracks by mule. The prince had shown him many of the caves and bays along the rocky coastline, where the high cliffs were thick with gulls. He named each different hill, copse and spring in both halves of the island, and pointed out the numerous little farms that they passed. Often, when they were hungry, the prince would stop at one of the farms and be welcomed with warmth and good food. He seemed to know everyone by name – including many of the children – and was greeted lovingly wherever he went. And the people had treated Eperitus with kindness and respect – partly because he was Odysseus’s companion, but also out of their naturally contented and welcoming natures.

He quickly came to understand Odysseus’s love of his home, and appreciated the time he spent showing him the island. But he also realized that the prince was not simply expressing his pride; he was saying goodbye to the place he loved. No one knew what the expedition to Sparta would bring or how long they would be away, so Odysseus was spending the final days before his departure with the place and people he loved above all things.

Eperitus wished he were not leaving Ithaca so soon and that the Fates had been kind enough to give him just a few days more to enjoy its hospitality. But the gods had other uses for him and he supposed that, like Odysseus, he must earn his place in the hearts and minds of its people if he was to establish himself amongst them.

As the group passed the outskirts of the town and left the crowds behind them, all bar a few children, they passed a group of young men standing by a spring. It was here, surrounded by tall black poplar trees, that the townspeople fetched their water. To Eperitus’s surprise the men greeted them with mocking jeers. One of them, a handsome man with close-cropped black hair and fine clothes – noticeably missing the whole of his right ear – was more abusive than all of his companions put together. Eperitus left the file with every intention of knocking the man’s teeth into the grass at his feet, but Odysseus stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

‘I’m surprised you have the courage to leave your master’s side, Polybus,’ he said. ‘And where’s Polytherses? Your sneering face seems incomplete without your brother’s alongside it.’

‘Keep your charm for the beautiful Helen, oaf-prince,’ Polybus replied. ‘The sooner you and your clowns are gone the better we’ll all feel around here.’

‘Which Helen is that, Polybus?’

For the briefest instant the other’s composure wavered, but he was quick to gather his wits about him again. ‘The whole of Ithaca knows you’re off to Sparta, expecting to bring back Tyndareus’s daughter as your wife. News spreads quickly on a small island, Odysseus, and the crew of Koronos’s ship was full of it. Your dim-witted guards may not know it yet, but it doesn’t take an oracle to guess what you’re up to.’