‘My lord, I saw brave men outnumbered and surrounded. It was easy to decide who needed my help most.’
‘And if my son’s men had been in the majority?’
Eperitus raised his head and met Laertes’s gaze. ‘In that case, my lord, I might have slain five Ithacans instead.’
The king smiled at his reply, but it was not a smile that brought any sense of warmth or relief.
‘You are on probation, Eperitus of Alybas,’ he told him. ‘But I’ll watch you.’
This time he fixed the young warrior with a stare that he would not release. Eperitus met his eye, but as he did so he felt the keen gaze stripping away the fragile barriers that concealed his innermost thoughts. Quickly he lowered his eyes for fear that the old man would follow the passages of his mind into areas he had not even dared to explore himself.
‘Yes, I’ll watch you like a hawk,’ Laertes repeated, before turning to the others. ‘Now, where are you, Koronos? Stand up so my old man’s eyes can see you. I’ve called you all here because Koronos has news for us from Eupeithes’s camp. Stand up, man, and take the speaker’s staff.’
A middle-aged noble with pitch-black hair raised himself from the chair closest to the king and took the staff from Odysseus. Eperitus could see that he was wealthy by the quality of his clothes and his well-kept, well-fed appearance. From his confidence before the Kerosia he also guessed he was a man of position, used to deference from others.
‘My lords, your ladyship, King Laertes is fortunate in having me as his close and faithful ally, for I bring news which those of us loyal to his rule must act upon immediately. Sometime ago a god put it into my mind to bribe one of Eupeithes’s slaves into my service. This man has become my eyes and ears in the traitor’s household, and there’s little of that man’s scheming that I don’t know about.
‘Eupeithes is an Ithacan and familiar to us all. But allow me to enlarge on what we know of this man, if only for the sake of our guest.’ Koronos bowed briefly to Eperitus. ‘Though he is a noble, a wealthy merchant, a powerful orator and a man of political ambition, he has never before sought to bring violence to these islands. For some time now we’ve been subjected to his speeches in the marketplaces, so we know he claims to be a patriot . . .’
‘Patriot!’ snorted one of the Kerosia, a man bent with age who could barely straighten his back to vent his disgust. ‘He’s a fat, pampered coward with no mind for anything other than increasing his own wealth! Who can forget how he sided with the Taphians when they raided our allies, the Thesprotians? Can a man who attacks his country’s friends call himself a patriot?’ The old man stopped to draw breath and, in honour of his age, nobody dared interrupt him. Not even Koronos, who held the speaker’s staff. ‘I was among the crowd of islanders who wanted to kill him for his treason. We chased him from his farm on the north coast all the way to the palace – you’d never have thought such a fat man could move so quickly.’ He took breath again, wheezing in his excitement. ‘Only Laertes had compassion on the man, and gave him sanctuary in this very house. He and the boy’, he pointed his stick at Odysseus, ‘held the gates, forbidding us entry and persuading us to return to our homes. And this is the family he wants to overthrow!’
After a respectful pause, Koronos continued. ‘Thank you, Phronius. If we all bore grudges as tenaciously as you, perhaps Eupeithes wouldn’t have wormed his way back into the hearts of the people. But, nevertheless, he claims himself a patriot and a respecter of the gods, and he spreads his lies amongst those who’ll listen to him. He claims Laertes is an idle king, an incompetent ruler who wants to keep Ithaca in stasis, never growing or rising to fulfil her potential. He tells us that, if he were monarch, he’d make our small knot of islands into a kingdom to be reckoned with. And the people are listening to him! They believe Eupeithes when he tells them he’ll bring new wealth to their towns and farmsteads, when he promises to build a palace to rival Mycenae, and that he’ll make powerful alliances with other states. And I’ll tell you what’s even more dangerous: he has the ear of many of the nobles of these islands.’
Koronos looked round at each member of the council, sliding his gaze from one set of eyes to the next, pushing home to them the prospect that Laertes was losing his grip on the populace.
‘But for all his influence, for all his patience in stirring up the people, he doesn’t have the majority of support. Perhaps a quarter of the people and nobles are for him.’
‘Nonsense!’ shouted Phronius. ‘A tenth at the most.’
‘Another quarter is sympathetic,’ Koronos continued, ‘but undecided. The remainder are loyal to the rule of Laertes and will never support a usurper, even if some of them agree with Eupeithes. Because he knows this, the traitor has changed his plans. And that is what brings me here.’
At this point Koronos signalled to one of the slaves, who came over and refilled his cup. He took a mouthful and looked around again.
‘Eupeithes, for all his treachery, doesn’t want to kill our great king. He still feels a debt of honour for the time that you shielded him from the mob, my lord. But he’s also a politician, and fears your death would win him more enemies than friends. Therefore he’d rather see you retired with the agreement of the nobles than murdered like a dog. And yet he has gathered about him men who are not so discerning. These men, most notably the twins Polybus and Polytherses, are tired of waiting for public opinion to turn in their favour. They’re pushing for action now, and they mean to have their way.
‘Until recently, I’ve been content for my spy to report the daily goings-on: the name of any new nobleman won over to Eupeithes’s cause; the travelling plans of the traitor; any new schemes he has dreamed up to oppose the rule of our king. These are the things that have been reported to me for months, but a few nights ago Eupeithes was visited by the twins and they spoke together long into the night. My man served them throughout and has relayed every word to me. These men don’t care for their country – they want only wealth and power. They’re also young and don’t share their leader’s patience in sowing dissent for a popular and peaceful removal of the king. They’ve spent the winter recruiting hard and raising funds, intent on recruiting a force of mercenaries. They even mentioned the Taphians, who their master still has secret connections with, and Eupeithes has agreed a plan to attack at the end of spring and take the throne by force. My lords, the time of political strife is passing. We must sharpen our swords for war.’
Chapter Seven
ODYSSEUS’S CHALLENGE
Tyndareus paced the floor of the great hall. Fired by his idea for gathering together the best of the Greeks, Agamemnon had sent mounted messengers to spread the word that Helen was to be married and her father was inviting suit from the greatest kings and warriors in all Greece. Perhaps fearing that the Spartan king would change his mind, he had dispatched the heralds that same evening. By now news would have reached every corner of the Peloponnese, whilst merchant ships would already be carrying messages out to the islands. Some horsemen might even have reached northern Greece, especially as this was a time of relative peace and the only trouble on the roads was the occasional brigand.
The king sighed. He might have a few days or even weeks of grace as Greece’s greatest men made preparations to come, but he also knew how much these men hated each other and would not want their rivals to steal a march on them. Though they would want to come with a full retinue, they would also be keen not to waste time in getting to Sparta: each would want to stake a claim on Helen before some other suitor could work his way too deeply into Tyndareus’s favour. He imagined that within a month the cold, echoing walls of the great hall would be filled with the clamour of many mighty voices.