King of Ithaca (Adventures of Odysseus)

‘I would never cross her. Her maids say she has an ancient knowledge that gives her terrible powers. She can make a mother’s milk sour in her breasts or ruin a man’s crops for a whole year. Some say she can kill animals by cursing them – even small children, too. And if she chooses to, she can make a woman love a man against her will.’

Damastor put a hand upon her waist and squeezed her soft flesh.

‘And do you think Clytaemnestra will perform her magic so that Penelope falls in love with Odysseus?’

‘If I can convince her it’s for the good of her cousin,’ Neaera said, kissing him on the cheek. ‘I’ll visit her after breakfast tomorrow.’

Agamemnon had called his council of war. The kings and princes came as invited, bringing only their senior captains and advisers with them. Eperitus, Halitherses and Mentor accompanied Odysseus, and each felt the privilege of being there among so many great names. These were the elite of Greece, the pride of its young nobility, and in them burned the hope for its future.

No slaves were in attendance, as the meal that evening had been a frugal one, so with only a handful present from each suitor’s entourage the great hall was almost empty. Now, in the echo of their footsteps as they entered, they were able to appreciate the full size of the place. Without the distractions of food, wine or women the guests began to notice the splendid murals that decorated the walls, columns and ceiling, telling in vivid colour and larger-than-life imagery the rich mythology of Sparta’s past.

The air buzzed with their hushed voices as rumour spread her evils amongst the gathered warriors. They were excited by the prospect of war, though they did not yet know who or where the threat was from. But the thought of taking up their arms again in anger, after several years of relative peace on the mainland, excited everyone.

Foremost among them was Ajax, standing an imperious and awe-inspiring head and shoulders above everyone else, his eyes alight with the prospect of bloodshed. He was accompanied by his twitching half-brother, who had a habit of hiding slightly to one side of his giant sibling and peering out from behind his elbow. There also was Little Ajax, wearing his snake about his shoulders. His eyes were blackened and puffed up from the fight of the other day, but this did not prevent him from staring about himself with aggressive malice.

Diomedes saw the Ithacans enter and came over to greet them.

‘Magnificent, isn’t he?’ he said, indicating Ajax. ‘Can you imagine him in battle? Even the gods would fear such a man.’

‘That’s what he claims himself,’ Halitherses replied. ‘I’ve heard him bragging that he could defeat Ares and Athena put together, with his bare hands if he chose. That sort of talk will only bring trouble.’

Diomedes nodded. ‘It’s true he’s no respecter of the gods, but he’s still a man of honour and someone I’d be happy to count as a friend and ally. Agamemnon and I have spoken to him about the coming war and he’s taken the idea to heart. We didn’t give details – that’s for the council to reveal – but he’d go today if he could. He lives to fight and is totally without fear; if he’s afraid of death at all, it’s because he’ll no longer be able to fight and win glory for himself.’

‘There isn’t a man here like him,’ Eperitus said. ‘But his pride is dangerous. I hear he came without an escort because he resents the idea of needing protection. Apart from those two creatures that hang about with him, he fights alone. I even heard him say the rest of the suitors were little more than worried slave women, bringing so many soldiers with them. But I tell you truthfully, that kind of fearless independence makes a man unreliable and dangerous.’

‘Maybe so, Eperitus; but he’s also our greatest weapon. If you can believe it, they say his skin can’t be penetrated by any weapon, ever since Heracles’s lion-skin was laid over him as a baby. It’s also said that Heracles is the only man he respects. Can you imagine if those two ever came to blows? It’d be the war of the gods and the Titans all over again.’

Diomedes was clearly obsessed with the martial prowess of the king of Salamis. Having seen Ajax swatting aside the Myrmidons like ants, Eperitus shared his admiration of the man. However, he had always been taught to fight as part of a unit and remained naturally suspicious of anyone who fought alone.

They were joined by Menelaus, who greeted them in a friendly manner and said that things would begin shortly. Then, as he glanced about at the gathering, mentally counting off each of the suitors, something caught his attention.

‘Who’s that wearing the sheepskin vest?’

He pointed to a young man lingering in the shadows at the back of the hall. He was handsome but clearly of low birth; he had the appearance of a shepherd by trade, except that in place of a staff he carried a gigantic bow. It was even larger than the bow Iphitus had given to Odysseus, and Eperitus was relieved to see that the lad did not carry any arrows.