King of Ithaca (Adventures of Odysseus)

Eperitus was fascinated to hear of this indestructible warrior and plagued Odysseus with questions that he could not answer. But there were other things the prince told him of, personal revelations about his feelings for a woman in the palace. He would not share her identity, and Eperitus did not ask, but as he often spoke of Helen by name it became clear that the woman he loved was not Tyndareus’s matchless daughter. The only thing he would say about her, in a tone that wavered between frustration and despair, was that she disliked him; indeed, she would not even honour him with the briefest glance or a single word beyond the formal requirements of palace life. From these few clues, Eperitus eventually guessed that he was talking about Penelope. He remembered how the cool and intelligent princess had spoken harshly about Odysseus on the Ithacans’ first evening at Sparta, and since then he had noticed how she made a point of avoiding him at the nightly feasts. Eperitus had also seen the prince’s eyes seek her out amongst the crowds. Indeed, he would have felt pity for his friend had he not also noticed how Penelope’s gaze would occasionally linger on Odysseus when he was not looking.

But Odysseus’s was not the only confidence Eperitus shared.

Helen would often arrange to meet with him in the temple of Aphrodite, where she came disguised in Clytaemnestra’s black cloak with the hood pulled over her face. Careful of her mistress’s reputation, Neaera would always accompany her and remain just beyond the temple doors as they spoke. Although Eperitus knew his life was at risk if he were to be found in such a situation, he could no more resist Helen’s pleas to meet than he could stop the sun from rising. At first her intoxicating beauty drew him, but it did not take him long to see past her physical attraction to the young, frustrated woman beneath.

Amid the shadows cast by the torchlight, Helen would ply him for news of Odysseus, talk with him about the Ithaca he hardly knew and share with him her dreams of fleeing Sparta. Then she would press him to tell Odysseus that she would marry him, if he would help her to escape.

This forced Eperitus into an ever-narrowing corner. Knowing the gods had decreed she be given to another – and that Odysseus was falling in love with Penelope – he was forced to rely on the excuse that Odysseus could not return to Ithaca whilst it remained in the hands of Eupeithes. But he also realized that to run away with Helen would estrange her from her family and lose Odysseus the power he needed to win back his homeland. As the prince was already forming strong friendships, especially with Agamemnon and Diomedes, Eperitus was not prepared to make him choose between the unrivalled temptation of Helen and the possibility of an alliance with one or more of the other nobles.

His only hope was for Ajax to arrive so that the planned council could take place, after which Helen’s husband would be chosen. What would happen then was in the hands of the gods, and beyond the influence of lowly warriors like himself. Just how Tyndareus and Agamemnon had planned for that day he could not guess, though he hoped the friendships that had formed between the nobles and warriors alike would prevent a quarrel in the palace. Despite this, many of the common soldiers were already predicting a split amongst the suitors, and that war between the Greek states would surely follow. All for Helen’s sake.

At first, Neaera would tell him when to meet the princess, but one day it was Clytaemnestra who sought him out.

‘Where’s Neaera?’ he asked, suspicious of the sudden change in messenger.

‘Don’t be concerned,’ Clytaemnestra replied, guessing his fears. ‘I know all about Helen’s foolish desire to run away with Odysseus. Do you think she’d be using my cloak as a disguise if I hadn’t allowed her to?’

Eperitus looked at her coldly. ‘I hadn’t given it any consideration,’ he said. ‘But you still haven’t answered my question.’

‘If you must know, I volunteered to take Neaera’s place. Does that surprise you?’

‘It surprises me that Agamemnon’s wife is acting as a go-between for Helen’s private affairs,’ Eperitus responded. ‘I know your husband intends to hold a council of war, and it wouldn’t help his plans if the bait disappeared before all the fish had been caught.’

Clytaemnestra’s nostrils flared briefly, but she was quick to control the flush of anger she felt at Eperitus’s suggestion. ‘Then you presume to know too much, soldier,’ she said. ‘If you think I would dream of spying for Agamemnon, you’re gravely wrong. Do you know that he murdered my first husband and our child, just so that he could make me his own? I find the man detestable, and if I can spite his plans by helping my sister to run away, then so much the better.’