‘And you theirs.’ Athena put an arm about him and led him away from the pool, nearer to where Eperitus lay concealed. ‘Eupeithes is a fool. I might even kill him myself one day, but until then if you are to be king in your father’s place you first have to prove yourself worthy. The Pythoness wasn’t wrong when she told you that you will be king; but there are journeys to be made and alliances formed before you can hope to take your rightful inheritance.’
Odysseus stopped close to Eperitus’s hiding place and scratched his scar vigorously. ‘But if Eupeithes strikes soon and I’m away from home, then Ithaca will be lost.’
‘Don’t forget that you are only mortal, Odysseus,’ Athena warned him, rising to her full height. ‘Only the gods know the future, and you must place your trust in them if you ever hope to be king. I tell you truthfully that if a man follows his own designs and doesn’t place his fate in the laps of the gods, then his path will be dark, difficult and doomed to ultimate failure. I promise you my help, and you will receive it, but you must have faith. What is more, I want you to do something for me.’
‘Whatever you ask, mistress,’ Odysseus said, though with hesitation.
The goddess smiled. ‘I need you to go to Messene. I have a temple there which has fallen out of use. Hera put one of Echidna’s spawn there to spite me – a monster older than Python and greater in size. Now it’s keeping my followers away and even my priests dare not tend the altar.’ She slammed the butt of her spear on the ground in anger and spat. ‘I want the creature dead, and I want you to kill it for me.’
‘It won’t be easy, my Lady,’ Odysseus said, ‘but I will go if you command me to. What shall I tell my father?’
‘Let me take care of that. I promise you my help if you need it, too, though only once. You must test your own prowess, rely on your skill as a warrior and use the brains that you have in abundance. But there will be a time when even your art won’t save you, and when that moment comes you must use this to summon me.’
Athena opened her hand to reveal a small clay seal. Odysseus took it from her and held it up. By the light of the goddess’s radiance Eperitus, from his hiding place, could just make out that it was in the shape of an owl.
‘Break this and I will come to you,’ she instructed. ‘But it can only be used once. After that you must rely upon your own resources. And those of your companions, for I will not send you out alone. First you must take this one with you.’
Suddenly she bent over the bush where Eperitus was crouched and lifted him effortlessly into the open. He fell to the ground between their feet and lay on his back, shocked and surprised, looking up at them as they stared back down at him.
‘Eperitus!’ Odysseus exclaimed. ‘You’re supposed to be at the camp.’
‘And you’re supposed to be buying meat,’ he retorted.
Athena stamped the butt of her spear on the ground beside his head. ‘Silence!’ she commanded. ‘The gods have killed countless men for spying on their practices. And I’ve a mind to kill you, too.’
Eperitus twisted over and threw his arms about her legs in supplication. ‘Please, goddess, no! I only came to eavesdrop on Odysseus because he lied to me. It never crossed my mind to spy on you, your ladyship. Forgive me and I’ll honour you all my days; I promise to hold you closer to my heart than any of the other Olympians.’
‘That is only what I deserve,’ she said in a harsh tone. Then, with a degree of softness, she prodded him away from her legs with her spear. ‘Let go now, Eperitus. Let go and stand up.’
Reluctantly he released her legs and got to his feet, patting the dust from his cloak. He took a step back and lowered his head so as not to look directly at the goddess.
‘And if I told you to follow Odysseus to the ends of the earth, would you honour my wish?’
‘Yes, Mistress Athena,’ he answered. ‘My fate is already tied up with Odysseus. And I’m also sworn to follow the will of the gods. You can be certain I’ll do as you say.’
‘Good! Be true to your word and no ill will befall you, though I also offer you this warning: beware the charms of women. You have no experience with those vile creatures, Eperitus, and a wrong choice could be perilous. Odysseus, my parting advice for you is to be wary of your friends. And don’t forget my temple at Messene.’
In an instant she was gone. Eperitus waved his hand through the air where she had stood, but there was nothing.
Though the party was awake before dawn and did not tarry, it took them most of the next morning to reach the port where the Ithacans’ ship was harboured. The journey was uneventful as they descended towards the great gulf of water Eperitus had seen the evening before, though it was strenuous under the merciless leadership of Odysseus and Halitherses, who insisted on a quick pace with few stops. Despite this, their newest recruit was pleased to find that the other warriors had welcomed his inclusion in their ranks, albeit with coldness from Mentor.
As they marched Eperitus became aware of a strange smell in the air, which was neither pleasant nor offensive, simply alien to his nostrils. He also saw great white birds circling in the sky above them, the likes of which he had never witnessed until his arrival at Pythia. They had long, hooked beaks and wing spans large enough to cast shadows over the soldiers as they flew. He watched them riding the wind, swooping and rising in the bright sunlight, and felt an unfamiliar pang stir in his heart. He felt as if he was on the threshold of the new world he longed for, that soon now he would be able to shake off the rags of his past life and for the first time discover who he really was. He was turning a corner that would put Alybas and his father out of sight, and would set him on the path to his promised glory, where the bonds of the old world would no longer hold any power over him.
A transformation of spirit overcame his companions, too. They no longer seemed weary, nor stooped by the weight of their arms. Instead, their sombre mood had been replaced by a chattiness and excitement that Eperitus had not before seen in them. Their conversation was no longer a string of muttered curses or an exchange of complaints, as it had been only the day before, but turned now to the subject of Ithaca. They spoke eagerly of their wives and families, home cooking and wine shared by their own hearths. They were also talking of the sea.
Already Eperitus had seen tantalizing glimpses of this mysterious entity in the great body of water that was visible from the slopes of Mount Parnassus. Last night it had shone like silver in the moonlight, and this morning it was a dark mass upon whose surface the sunlight had shattered itself into a thousand pieces. But he knew that even this was only a channel that led to the sea, little more than the least twig on a great tree.
He lost sight of the shimmering waters as the party reached the plain below Pythia. As they followed the course of a boulder-strewn river that grew steadily wider and noisier they passed several pilgrims on their way to the oracle, escorted by local peasants acting as guides. The first sign that they were approaching a town was a group of girls washing clothing on the other side of the river. Shortly afterwards they began to pass huts and a few larger dwellings. Gradually the path became a road, populated by water-carrying women and their grubby-faced children, who looked blankly at the strangers as they filed past. A goatherd called a cheery greeting as he took his flock to drink at the river, but nobody else spoke to them.
Before long they were in the town itself, and followed the river, to the harbour. The great spread of water that Eperitus had seen at a distance now lay hammered out before him, a dark, shining mass that heaved quietly beneath the shore wind. This was not the sea – he could see land on all sides – but Antiphus told him it was an entrance to the gulf that split northern Greece from the Peloponnese, and which ultimately led out to the oceans of the world.