King of Ithaca (Adventures of Odysseus)

For a moment Eperitus could do nothing but watch as the serpent tried to free itself of Odysseus’s grip, shaking its head like an untamed horse trying to throw its rider. But the man’s strength would not succumb, even when it butted him against the pillars, dislodging showers of dust from the ceiling. And then Eperitus’s fighting rage took him. His repugnance at the sight of the great snake was forgotten and he rushed in to the attack once more, leaping onto its back and forcing his blade between the tight-knit scales. His anger gave him strength and the blade slid between the overlapping plates into soft flesh, releasing a gush of black blood to erupt over his hands and forearms.

Just then he heard a crack and saw Odysseus tossed across the temple, still holding on to the fang which he had torn out of the monster’s jaw. He fell against the stone dais and moved no more. Eperitus tried frantically to drag Polybus’s blade free again to inflict further wounds, but the serpent took no further notice of him. It was intent now on the man who had twice wounded it, maddened to vengeful lust by the pain that swept in great waves through its body, from its dimmed eye to the barbs that had pierced its previously impenetrable flesh. Eperitus’s eyes were fixed on Odysseus, knowing he could not save him now from the serpent, and in that moment he realized all his hopes were about to die with him. Then he heard a cry of anger and Mentor came running out of the shadows.

In an instant he had placed himself between the beast and Odysseus. Dropping his shield, he slammed the butt of his spear into the ground by the prince so that the point faced directly up into the path of the monster’s head. Hardly noticing the newcomer in its rage and pain, it launched its full weight against Odysseus. The force drove Mentor’s spear point up into its brain and out through the top of its skull, killing it instantly.

Eperitus fell from the back of the slain beast and crawled to where Odysseus and Mentor lay flattened by the weight of the fallen creature. With Antiphus still unconscious, it took all of Eperitus’s remaining strength to lever the heavy head from the two men and topple it over to one side.

Fortunately neither man was badly hurt, and for all the violence Odysseus had suffered his only wound was a slight cut above his eyebrow, which was bleeding freely. They found Antiphus returning to consciousness, but he too had not suffered beyond a few bruises and cuts.

‘Where do you think Polybus is?’ he asked, looking at the dead monster.

‘There,’ Eperitus answered, pointing at the pregnant bump in the animal’s stomach.

Antiphus walked over to it and drew a dagger from his belt. While they watched him he punched it into the soft underbelly and, using all his strength, forced open a great tear in the stomach. Suddenly a huge volume of liquid burst across the temple floor, spattering Antiphus with gore and almost knocking his legs from beneath him. In the midst was a slimy parcel of meat, spilling out like offal from a sacrificed heifer. Fascinated, Eperitus took a step forward, but instantly leapt back in horror as a great horde of lesser snakes came rushing out of the rent in their mother and squirmed their way to freedom in the shadows of the temple.

The sight turned his muscles to water and he had to close his eyes and fight down nausea. He wanted to run as he felt scores of them sliding in cold masses across his feet, but the fear of dishonour was greater and he stood his ground. Only when the sound of them had disappeared did he dare open his eyes again. The larger object was Polybus and Antiphus had hold of his right hand. Using the blood-stained dagger, he sawed off the dead man’s bow-fingers, first one and then the other. When he was done, he dropped the limb back into the mess of gore and stowed his trophies in his pouch. He had a right to those fingers, Eperitus thought, and nobody questioned him.

Their task had been completed and Odysseus’s promise to the goddess fulfilled, so they recovered their weapons and walked out into the twilight of the winter evening. The heaviness had lifted from the temple and Eperitus, breathing the clean air, was suddenly overcome by a sensation of relief, even joy, at being alive. He realized that the worry of facing the serpent had made him tense for days, but from now on he would be able to enjoy the prospect of Sparta, where they would be feted in luxury by one of the richest kings in Greece.

Then a sound behind him made him turn, and he saw Polybus staggering down the steps towards him, dripping with the serpent’s bile and reaching out his maimed hand in a plea for help. The others turned also, as shocked as Eperitus to see the hideous ghoul who had somehow survived being devoured by the monster. Gone were his arrogant sneer and his self-confidence. Now his eyes were wide with terror, his mind lost for ever.