Laertes stared at the merchant with disdain. ‘You’ll never be ruler, Eupeithes. Betrayal begets betrayal and your actions will only earn you treachery in return. Kneel before your rightful king now, and pray to the gods he’ll have mercy on you.’
Eupeithes stepped forward and waved his hand dismissively. ‘A king is but a representative, the bearer of a title and a position, but he is nevertheless a man who will ultimately die. A nation, however, is something which surpasses the individual. It outlives us all and must be honoured above any one man. I act for our nation and that’s why I must replace you, Laertes. You have failed your people with idle hands and a self-regarding mind.’
‘You see things with the eyes of a merchant, Eupeithes,’ Laertes replied. ‘You don’t see there are other things in this world beyond how much a man does or does not possess. You were born into a wealthy family who trained you to think about the acquisition of riches, to know what to buy and where to sell, and you have spent your life as a trader in goods. That makes you an excellent man to trust when it comes to money and making a profit.
‘I, on the other hand, was born into a ruling family. I was trained to think about the welfare of my people, to provide for them and protect them. From boyhood I was taught to fight and to lead troops; I was told how to take from the people in times of plenty, so that I could give to them in times of hardship; I was shown how to watch every part of my kingdom, from the harvest, to the work of the craftsmen, to the trading of the merchants and the scheming of the nobles, so that there was balance and harmony. And that’s how I’ve spent my life, be it for better or worse. But whatever truth there is in your accusations, I have kept this nation together. It’s only through you that Ithacans have spilled each other’s blood on the soil of their homeland. Only you, Eupeithes, have divided these islands and destroyed the one thing that has kept them together and at peace for so long. In your very first act you have invited our oldest enemies onto our shores, killed your compatriots and put the future of these islands into question. The biggest mistake I made was in allowing you to spread your lies amongst the people.’
As both groups listened to the king, his voice filled with authority despite his tiredness and wounds, Mentor heard the sound of others coming down the corridor behind him. Looking about himself, he snatched a long Taphian spear and a shield from one of the many bodies in the courtyard and retreated back into the shadows, pressing his body as close to the wall as possible. Just as he did so, Koronos walked out into the courtyard, followed by Polytherses and the remainder of the Taphians, who had broken in through the great hall.
Laertes saw the approaching reinforcements and knew that the battle was lost. Realizing their desperate situation and not wanting to waste more lives, he threw down his weapons in surrender and ordered his men to do the same.
Eupeithes had won a stunningly quick and complete victory. By clever deceit and ruthless determination he had overthrown the king and taken power. And as Mentor slipped away unnoticed through the palace gates, he knew that only the return of Odysseus could save Ithaca now.
Chapter Eleven
THE ROAD TO MESSENE
Mentor raised his head and looked at Odysseus. ‘There’s something else,’ he said. Despite his hardships, he sat tall and as straight as a spear. ‘The fishermen who helped me escape told me a galley had already left for the mainland. A force of Taphians was aboard, led by Polybus. Eupeithes knows that until you’re dead there will always be hope and resistance amongst the Ithacans. He also knows from the crew of your ship where you landed, so he intends to hunt you down while you’re still within his reach.’
After breakfast, they gathered in the shade of the trees where Odysseus had called them to council. Other than Eperitus, every member of the expedition had family and friends back in Ithaca. However, it was so incredible that their homeland could now be under the rule of Eupeithes that for a while nobody knew what to say.
It was Damastor who broke the silence. He had a wife and infant son at home and did not want to leave them to the mercy of Taphian pirates. There was no choice, he argued, but to go to the nearest coastal town and take a ship back to Ithaca. They knew the countryside better than the Taphians and could observe their numbers and defences from the hills surrounding the town. If they sailed by night the invaders would not even be aware of their return, and then they could gather an army of the people and wrest the island back from Eupeithes.
There were murmurs of agreement, but little enthusiasm. Laertes’s defeat had lowered their spirits and put doubt into their minds. Eperitus could see from the lifeless expressions that they questioned their chances of defeating Eupeithes’s much stronger force. Even Halitherses looked sullen and dismayed. Only Odysseus seemed unbowed by the news. Instead, his eyes were fixed on the distant shoreline as he pondered what to do.
After a few moments he stood and looked at his men, their dirty, tired faces raised in expectation. If they hastened back to Ithaca now, he explained, they might catch Eupeithes unprepared and the islanders angry enough to fight. But it was more likely their small force would be massacred, gifting Ithaca to their enemies for ever. The alternative was to continue to Sparta, where they might gain powerful allies and come back with a force that could optimistically challenge Eupeithes. And yet that would also give the usurper time to establish himself and strengthen his position.
‘Whatever we may think,’ said Halitherses, ‘the decision has to be yours, my lord. We all have homes and families on Ithaca, but you are the heir to the throne. You know what’s best, and we’ll commit ourselves to your judgement.’
‘Then I’m going to pray on the matter,’ Odysseus announced. ‘If you’re wise you’ll do the same. I’ll decide when I return.’
He turned to go to the other side of the hilltop, and as he did so gave Eperitus a long look and nodded his head for him to follow. The young warrior waited a short while then went to find him.
Odysseus sat on his haunches, his elbows balanced on his knees and his hands wilting at the ends of his outstretched arms. He was looking out towards the sea. Though winter had begun the sky had few clouds and the sun was bright as it climbed towards its apex, enabling a keen-eyed observer to see for great distances. The prince did not look at Eperitus as he joined him.
‘You wanted me, my lord?’
‘No formalities here, Eperitus. Sit down.’
Rocks were scattered everywhere, none of them flat or smooth enough to sit on, so he squatted next to Odysseus and faced the sea. The landscape was typical of southern Greece – hilly, boulder-strewn, punctuated with scrubby plants and olive groves – but it felt an empty and lonely place.
‘What will you do?’ he asked.
‘That isn’t my decision,’ Odysseus replied, opening his hand to reveal the small clay owl that Athena had given him. ‘She told me to go to her temple at Messene.’
Eperitus looked at the object resting in the palm of his friend’s hand and recalled the goddess’s instructions, as well as her promise to help Odysseus at the time he needed her most.
‘That’s why I wanted you to follow me, Eperitus,’ Odysseus continued, looking at him with his intelligent green eyes. ‘You were there. You saw her and heard what she said. I can’t share that with Mentor or Halitherses, so I need you to help me decide.’
‘We won’t be able to defeat Eupeithes without using the owl to call on Athena’s help,’ Eperitus began. ‘But she won’t come unless you honour her command to go to Messene first.’