The Oracles of Troy (The Adventures of Odysseus)

She reached the throne where none had sat since Odysseus’s departure and ran her hand over the carved wooden back. Her husband had left her in a strong position, with the support of the Kerosia and the people behind her, but he had also left a viper in the form of Eupeithes, the power-hungry merchant who had once tried to usurp the throne. By allowing him a seat on the Kerosia, Odysseus had gambled on the hope that giving him some power might placate his greater ambitions. He had also gambled on a prompt end to the war and a quick homecoming. This was despite the oracle he had once shared with his wife, that if he went to Troy he would not return for twenty years. He had never felt restricted by prophecies, though, and had promised to return to Ithaca before anything could threaten his kingdom. So far, he had been wrong. Now the viper had raised its head and struck its first blow.

A low howl of wind shook the doors, causing her to look up. Again, they did not open and she headed back towards the alcove. Eupeithes had bided his time, of course. It was even possible he had never intended to make a bid for power, but the length of Odysseus’s absence, combined with disillusionment among the nobility, had stirred his dormant ambitions. Either way, he had made his move now and suddenly, unexpectedly, the Kerosia was his to control – and only the king could overrule the council of elders. Having bought Polyctor’s loyalty years before, after Phronius’s accidental death – or murder, as most suspected – Eupeithes had been able to bargain for Oenops, another of his cronies, to take the old man’s place. That had left Nisus, Halitherses, Mentor and Laertes – Odysseus’s aged father – still loyal to the throne, but recent events had changed the balance again. While Halitherses had secretly sailed to the Peloponnese with Telemachus, taking Odysseus’s heir to safety in Sparta, an assassin had been caught in the boy’s empty room. Eupeithes was the obvious one to have ordered the prince’s death, but the assassin had sworn his employer was Nisus of Dulichium.

Penelope looked over her shoulder at the ring of chairs around the hearth. They were still draped with furs for the members of the Kerosia who had met that morning to discuss the allegation against Nisus. As the accused, Nisus was unable to take his own seat, and with Halitherses travelling to Sparta with Telemachus that had given the majority to Eupeithes. The verdict was almost a formality: Nisus was guilty of treason and had been sentenced to be executed the next day. What was more, Eupeithes had used the absence of Halitherses to have his own son, Antinous, voted on to the Kerosia as Nisus’s replacement. At a stroke, the Kerosia was now in Eupeithes’s hands and there was nothing Penelope could do about it.

The doors creaked open and a splash of weak moonlight cut a wedge across the dark floor. A cloaked figure paused in the doorway, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the gloom before slipping into the hall. A second, shorter man followed him.

‘Who’s that?’ Penelope called, anxiously.

‘Penelope, it’s me.’

The tension eased from her muscles as she recognised Mentor’s voice.

‘You were longer than I expected,’ she said, moving from the shadows into the warm firelight. ‘Were you delayed?’

‘A little. The guard on the gates is one of the new men that replaced the reinforcements sent to Troy. I don’t know I can trust him, so Eumaeus and I found a way in over the palace wall.’

Mentor crossed the great hall and kissed Penelope on both cheeks. He was handsome with a neatly trimmed beard and hard, confident eyes. The stump where his right hand had been severed by a sword was cased in leather, and though the wound had prevented him from going to war at Odysseus’s side it had at least ensured Penelope his friendship and support in trying to preserve her husband’s kingdom at home. Beside him was a man with a red-brown face and a head of thick, curly hair. Eumaeus was a slave, but as loyal to Odysseus as anyone on the island.

‘What about Nisus’s guard?’ Mentor asked.

Penelope shook her head. ‘A Taphian.’

Eupeithes had a long association with the Taphians, old enemies of Ithaca, and had insisted a troop of the tall, ruthless spearmen be added to the palace guard.

‘Then we have to kill him,’ Mentor said, throwing his cloak aside to reveal the sword tucked into his belt. ‘We’ll take the body with us and dump it into the sea – at least then we can claim Nisus bought his loyalty and helped him to escape.’

‘Eupeithes will never believe that.’

‘It’ll seem the most likely explanation, and until he can disprove it he won’t be able to accuse anyone else. Are you still willing to draw the guard away from his post?’

Penelope nodded and crossed to a small door at the back of the great hall. The two men followed.

‘Wait either side of the door,’ she instructed. ‘I’ll make him follow me into the hall and then you can … do whatever is necessary.’