King of Ithaca (Adventures of Odysseus)

He turned to go to the other side of the hilltop, and as he did so gave Eperitus a long look and nodded his head for him to follow. The young warrior waited a short while then went to find him.

Odysseus sat on his haunches, his elbows balanced on his knees and his hands wilting at the ends of his outstretched arms. He was looking out towards the sea. Though winter had begun the sky had few clouds and the sun was bright as it climbed towards its apex, enabling a keen-eyed observer to see for great distances. The prince did not look at Eperitus as he joined him.

‘You wanted me, my lord?’

‘No formalities here, Eperitus. Sit down.’

Rocks were scattered everywhere, none of them flat or smooth enough to sit on, so he squatted next to Odysseus and faced the sea. The landscape was typical of southern Greece – hilly, boulder-strewn, punctuated with scrubby plants and olive groves – but it felt an empty and lonely place.

‘What will you do?’ he asked.

‘That isn’t my decision,’ Odysseus replied, opening his hand to reveal the small clay owl that Athena had given him. ‘She told me to go to her temple at Messene.’

Eperitus looked at the object resting in the palm of his friend’s hand and recalled the goddess’s instructions, as well as her promise to help Odysseus at the time he needed her most.

‘That’s why I wanted you to follow me, Eperitus,’ Odysseus continued, looking at him with his intelligent green eyes. ‘You were there. You saw her and heard what she said. I can’t share that with Mentor or Halitherses, so I need you to help me decide.’

‘We won’t be able to defeat Eupeithes without using the owl to call on Athena’s help,’ Eperitus began. ‘But she won’t come unless you honour her command to go to Messene first.’

‘Even with the help of a goddess it’ll be a difficult task,’ Odysseus said. ‘We’re too few in number. But you’re right either way: we must at least rid her temple of the serpent, as she has commanded. We can decide between Ithaca and Sparta then. And yet . . . and yet I fear for my parents. My every thought burns with anxiety for them! Ithaca will still be there if we return tomorrow or in ten years, but I can’t delay if by doing so I risk the lives of my father and mother.’

‘From everything I’ve heard it seems that Eupeithes is a coward,’ Eperitus said. ‘Surely he wouldn’t dare murder Laertes?’

‘No, he wouldn’t. But he has Polybus at one ear and Polytherses at the other, and the Taphians may yet decide to do away with them all and take Ithaca for themselves. They wouldn’t spare its king and queen.’

‘I can’t make that decision for you, Odysseus,’ Eperitus replied. ‘But if you want the opinion of an outsider, then go to Messene first. That’s the sum of my wisdom on the matter. And now I should go back, before Mentor suspects me of being up to mischief

As he rejoined the camp, he saw Mentor sitting on a rock and staring at him. His arms and legs were tied with fresh bandages – replaced that morning – and the few hours sleep he had gained during the night had eased his look of exhaustion. Eperitus was about to look away and find a friendlier face, when Mentor rose to his feet and walked towards him. The man’s accusations of treachery were still fresh in Eperitus’s mind, and the ordeals Mentor had been through did not lessen his anger towards him.

‘What is it?’ he said, sharply.

Mentor stared at him for a moment, then offered his hand. ‘I owe you an apology, Eperitus. I judged you too harshly when we first met, and I haven’t made things easy for you since. But the events at the palace have changed me, and I just want to say I was wrong to speak as I did.’

Eperitus held Mentor’s gaze for a moment longer, then forced a smile to his lips and took his hand. ‘I’m glad we can be friends, Mentor.’

Odysseus returned shortly after and wasted no time in informing the men of his decision. They would head for Sparta, travelling via Messene to buy new supplies. Even those who were eager to return home and fight it out did not question his decision, and Eperitus sensed the prince’s authority grow then. Before, he felt that the men followed Odysseus because he was the son of Laertes; now it was because they were learning to trust him. The only voice of dissent belonged to Damastor, who still insisted they should return to Ithaca. But his protests were short-lived in the face of Odysseus’s silence and he resigned himself to the long journey ahead of them. And so they marched late into the evening, following the coastal road and hoping to put some distance between themselves and any pursuit.