‘There’s nothing we can do about that now, Odysseus,’ said Damastor, appearing at his side. ‘The council has decided this is the only way to save Ithaca from rebellion, so we’d better go and pray that the gods protect our homes and families until we return.’
A short time later they passed over the wooded ridge and headed down to the small harbour where the galley was bobbing gently on the waves. Mentor was there to meet them and Odysseus immediately took him to one side. Eperitus did not hear what was said, but assumed that the prince was warning Mentor of the possibility of a traitor. Mentor nodded and set off up the beach, but as he passed Eperitus in the file he stopped.
‘I’m left behind to nursemaid the king while you get the privilege of escorting Odysseus to Sparta. Well, at least you won’t be hanging around in the palace, because . . .’ He drew closer and lowered his voice. ‘Because I don’t trust you. We don’t know you or your family, so if anyone is spying for Eupeithes it’s a foreigner like you. And I’ve told Odysseus as much, so you won’t catch him off his guard either.’
‘I’m no traitor,’ Eperitus spat, but Mentor was already striding down the slope to the bay.
book
TWO
Chapter Nine
IN THE LAND OF THE WOLFMEN
The north wind was full in the galley’s sail and drove the vessel irresistibly forward across the waves. It ploughed great furrows into the sea and made the going particularly rough, though it was not enough to hamper the speed with which the gods had blessed them after their late start. Eperitus stood at the prow of the ship, fighting for breath in the teeth of the gale. The Peloponnese flanked him on the left, its mountains silhouetted blue in the afternoon haze, whilst beneath his feet he could hear the waves slapping against the thin planking of the hull.
Sensing a presence, he turned to see Odysseus standing at his shoulder. The prince’s arms were behind his back and his gaze was fixed firmly ahead. It was the same look that he wore when at the helm, observing the wave caps for the best currents and watching the distant clouds for warnings of a change in the weather, whilst keeping an eye on the shoreline for safe anchorages along the way. He looked as strong as a bull, his burly frame unfazed by the blustering wind that had been tearing the air from Eperitus’s lungs. One could almost believe there was no wind, were it not for his narrowed eyes, the flapping of his red hair and the billowing of his great black cloak.
‘You know, Eperitus,’ he said, his smooth voice perfectly audible in the wind, ‘I wish I wasn’t here. Not very heroic, really, am I? Not for a prince of his people.’
‘What do you mean?’ Eperitus asked.
‘I mean that to be great a man must leave his home and family and go out into the wider world, seeking to carve a name for himself in the ranks of his enemies.’
‘I suppose it’s hard to win fame by staying at home.’
‘But that’s exactly what I’d rather do,’ Odysseus sighed. ‘Part of me dreams about slaying monsters, sacking cities, ravishing beautiful maidens and coming home laden with gold. What man doesn’t? And yet in my heart I could wish for nothing more than sharing meat and wine with friends in the great hall at home, talking about the local girls, the harvest and fishing. The closest I like coming to adventure is listening to a good story around a blazing fire.’
Eperitus envied Odysseus his contentment in such things, but never having experienced a true sense of happiness in his own home he could not understand it. All he wanted was to see the world and write his name into one of the tales that Odysseus liked to hear beside the hearth.
‘So why leave Ithaca?’ he said.
‘For the same reason that you left Alybas, I assume,’ Odysseus replied. ‘To prove myself! To achieve something that will allow me to go home to my people and hold my head up high.’
‘That isn’t why I left Alybas,’ Eperitus muttered.
Odysseus seemed not to hear. ‘Of course, it’s unlikely Helen will choose me above her wealthier and more powerful suitors, and it’s probable Tyndareus has already chosen her a husband. Which makes me wonder what the idea is behind this gathering of kings and princes – it’s a lot of trouble to go to for nothing. But either way, I may be able to form friendships and alliances that will carry weight back home. That’s the real reason my father sent me on this journey. But tell me this, Eperitus: do you think the most beautiful woman in Greece might choose me for a husband?’
Eperitus considered the possibility, matching what he knew of Helen’s legendary beauty to the little he had learned about Odysseus. ‘You’re as likely to be chosen as any other suitor. You’re a prince, soon to become a king. You have wealth and power, and you’re a great warrior – any sensible woman would be out of her mind to reject you.’
A great shout followed by laughter came from the benches. Some of the escort were playing a game with marked ivory cubes, and their constant chattering and clamour had become a feature of the voyage. The game would shortly be broken up, though, as the sun was already dipping beyond the island of Zacynthos to the west and the helmsman would soon be seeking a convenient landfall.
‘The problem is that a woman as desirable as Helen can afford to pick and choose between suitors,’ Odysseus said thoughtfully. ‘Have you ever been to another palace outside of Alybas?’
‘Of course,’ Eperitus confirmed. ‘Your own.’
Odysseus laughed. ‘Well-travelled indeed, I see. And how does the palace at Ithaca compare to the one in your own city?’
‘They’re about the same. Yours looks older, but has more servants and guards.’
Odysseus nodded sagely. ‘Well, my friend, the nobles that we’ll meet in Sparta come from much grander places than you or I. They have wealth beyond your most fantastic dreams. My beloved Ithaca is little more than a hovel compared to the cities they rule. Wait until you see Tyndareus’s palace – that’ll give you an idea of the power and wealth of the men I’m competing against, and why it’s likely Helen will choose another before me. In truth, the odds are too heavily stacked against me.’
‘You must believe you have a chance, though, or why would you go?’ Eperitus insisted.
‘In the hope of forming alliances, as I said, and perhaps of bringing something back that will make the journey worthwhile. And also for my father’s sake. It’s his command, and a father must be obeyed, don’t you think?’
Eperitus shifted uncomfortably under Odysseus’s searching gaze. ‘That depends upon what your father expects you to do.’
‘Then can a man have more wisdom than his father?’ Odysseus challenged, his voice firm but no less persuasive. ‘Can any son rightfully contest his father’s authority and expect his own children to obey him?’
‘My father tested my loyalties to the extreme,’ Eperitus responded sharply, ‘and I responded in the way that I believed was right. I disobeyed his will, yes, but I’d do it again. The choice he gave me was absolute, and I chose the only option that a man of honour could take. I proved myself better than he.’
Odysseus looked at him seriously. ‘A man doesn’t become great by overthrowing his father, Eperitus. It’s unnatural and opposes the will of the gods.’
Eperitus stared fiercely at his captain. ‘Answer me this, my lord: does Eupeithes have a son?’
‘Yes, an infant named Antinous.’
‘And when Antinous becomes a man, would you expect him to support his father against the king? If you were Antinous, what would you do?’
Odysseus shook his head and sighed. ‘So, at last I understand,’ he told Eperitus, patting his shoulder reassuringly. ‘Ever since we first met, I’ve been wondering why you won’t name your father. He betrayed your king, didn’t he, and you had no choice but to disobey him.’