King of Ithaca (Adventures of Odysseus)

Eperitus glanced across at Odysseus. After Messene, the men’s spirits had lifted; they knew that once they had passed the Taygetus Mountains and reached Sparta they would find food, drink and plenty of rest. In contrast, Odysseus had grown quiet and withdrawn. On the night before they entered the mountain passes that would take them to Sparta, he had invited Eperitus to join him as he went into the hills to hunt food. Whilst the prince had an arrow fitted to the great bow he was happy again, shooting rabbits at great distances and exulting at the magical accuracy of his new weapon. Often he would comment upon what a match there would have been between Apollo’s bow and the arrows of Heracles. But as they headed back to camp his despondency returned and the prince began to talk about Ithaca and his concerns for his countrymen under the yoke of Eupeithes and his Taphian army. He longed to return and fight, especially now he knew Helen’s husband had already been chosen, but Athena had told him to go on. Yet what would he find there? And what if he failed in his task and returned to Ithaca empty-handed, to lead the last of the palace guard to certain death against Eupeithes’s army?

‘I feel helpless, Eperitus,’ he said, kicking out at a pile of dead leaves and scattering them across the path. ‘I may be known for living by my wits, but I prefer to know where I’m going. I’d happily exchange places with you or any of the others. You’re soldiers and your job is to follow orders. If your captain says, “Slay that man,” then that’s what you do. But I have the fate of a whole people on my back. If I fail, Ithaca fails. And my captains are the gods – a more heartless and fickle bunch you couldn’t ask for. What matter if their earthly schemes don’t come off? They return to Olympus and forget their sorrows with ambrosia and nectar, whilst mortal corpses lie piled on the ground, their souls shepherded off to eternal misery in the halls of Hades. But what choice do we have but to obey their whims? I tell you in truth, I’d give anything to overturn my fate and dictate my own destiny.’

Talking about it put him in an even blacker mood, and when they returned to the camp he placed himself on guard duty and spoke to nobody for the rest of the evening. His silence continued throughout the next morning as they marched over the mountain passes to the Eurotas valley. But as Eperitus looked at his friend now, with the city of Sparta gleaming in the valley below, his stern expression had gone. He looked at the city as if he were sizing up an opponent. Here was the challenge that would require all of his wit and resources, and it was a test that he could not afford to fail. Suddenly his features were transformed by a smile.

‘Halitherses! See that the men are looking their best. We don’t want the Spartans mistaking us for a bunch of brigands, do we?’

Halitherses made himself busy inspecting their armour, making sure it was laced up tightly and sitting properly on their torsos. Then he tugged their shield straps and belts into place, checked that they still wore their little sprigs of chelonion – to remind them of their homes when they were tasting the delights of Sparta – and finally had them take out their whetstones from their pouches and sharpen the blades of their weapons so that they gleamed with a killing edge.

‘When you march through those gold-paved streets,’ he said, manhandling them into a double file, ‘I want you to walk with your chins held high and your eyes straight ahead. No looking at the pretty young Spartan girls, do you understand? Remember who you are, where you’re from and why we’re here.’

When they eventually reached the city, there were no pretty girls to be seen. In fact, other than a number of soldiers in various styles of armour and dress, they saw very few people at all. But the empty streets did not detract from the wonder of Sparta. Every wall was high and well built, each strong door ornately carved, and almost every house possessed a second floor. Empty windows stared down on them from every side as they marched up the steep and winding road towards the palace, and Eperitus marvelled to see such beauty and magnificence.

Eventually they reached the palace gateway. The doors were twice as high and twice as wide as their counterparts in Ithaca and were covered in beaten silver that gleamed dully in the watery afternoon light. As they arrived a soldier in full armour emerged from a large guard hut built against the wall to one side of the entrance. He looked strained and tired.

‘State your name and your business,’ he said, with a voice that sounded weary of dealing with foreign nobles.

‘I am Odysseus, son of Laertes, king of Ithaca. I’ve come to pay court to Helen of Sparta, by reputation the most beautiful woman in Greece.’

This last was added by way of a compliment to Sparta as a whole, but the guard captain remained unimpressed.