King of Ithaca (Adventures of Odysseus)

‘How could this have happened?’ Eperitus asked him. ‘And why didn’t the sentry see anything?’

‘Damastor was asleep again,’ the prince replied, tight-lipped. ‘And as for the blaze, it was probably an ember from the fire, caught by the night breeze.’

‘Sabotage is a more likely explanation,’ Eperitus replied, but Odysseus was already hastening away to issue more orders to his men.

Damastor’s search for the mules was unsuccessful and they were forced to leave with nothing but the food they had in their pouches. Soon afterwards it began to drizzle, and they cursed their bad luck that it had not rained the night before. At least then the trees would have been too wet to catch light, and they would not have needed to leave the road and cut across country to avoid pursuit.

Nobody spoke. They followed a route that kept them out of sight of the road. It took them through valleys and along the reverse slopes of hills, through woods and along riverbeds so that they were not seen by unwelcome eyes. Without the road their going was slow and Odysseus would occasionally climb a hill to check their position in relation to the road south. By afternoon the men were tired, being generally unfit and unconditioned to long marches. They also began to find that they could no longer continue south and remain invisible to anyone using the road.

Odysseus, Halitherses and Eperitus made their way up to high ground and saw that the road had now split in two. One route followed the coast as it bent outwards and then plunged south again; the other curved away from the coast and turned inland, heading east through the mountains.

‘Which way now?’ Eperitus asked.

‘Using the coastal road will take us days,’ Odysseus answered. ‘It circumvents the southern mountains, then angles back up to reach Messene. I’ve sailed around that cape many times and know it would be a long journey on foot. But if we take the road through this valley,’ he added, pointing east, ‘it should lead us to the northern end of a broad plain. From there it forks again: southwest to Messene, or east over the Taygetus Mountains to Sparta. Polybus would expect us to head through the valley, but he wouldn’t anticipate us doubling back to Messene. I think we should take the risk and hope to lose him there, if indeed he is following us. What do you say?’

‘I wouldn’t want to follow the coastal road and lose the cover of these hills,’ Halitherses said, stroking his beard and looking across at the open stretch between their hiding place and the junction below. ‘At least if we head east we can keep ourselves concealed a while longer. There’s still the open plain to come, where we’ll have to take to the road again for a time, but we can deal with that when it comes to it.’

By last light, after pursuing another skulking course through the foothills and woods that skirted the main road, they finally emerged from the other end of the valley. There before them lay the open plain of Messene. Only the northernmost reaches were visible – the remainder obscured by a last spur of the mountains to their right – but they could see that it was a broad and fertile place. There were fields and orchards, and quiet villages that lay dozing beneath the shadows of the hills. And there, just beyond the rocky spur, they could see the road splitting again. One branch continued south-east towards the Taygetus Mountains and eventually Sparta, whilst the other veered south to Messene.

They increased their pace to a run as Odysseus led them out of hiding and into the vulnerable open spaces about the road. The sun had set, but until they passed the rocky spur it was still light enough for them to be seen from the steep hillsides to the west. Eperitus was at the back of the group, and as he reached the fork in the road he noticed something shining in the dirt. He paused as he reached the object, and looked down to see a dagger in the damp mud, the blade pointing south in the direction they were running.

‘Come on, Eperitus,’ Odysseus shouted. ‘This is no place to rest.’

Shamed by the insinuation that he was tired, Eperitus sprinted to catch up with the rest of the men. Whoever had dropped the dagger would have to do without it.

They did not push on towards Messene that evening. Visitors in the night are rarely made welcome in a town, so they made camp in the foothills of the western mountains. It was a grim and cheerless assembly, without the warmth and light of a fire and with nothing but the meagre rations in their pouches to provide a meal. The watch was tripled and nobody enjoyed an unbroken night’s sleep.