At the little horns poking through the grey curls.
“Time to eaaaat,” bleated the goat-man.
Odysseus reached behind him for some kind of weapon—a loose rock, a club, a handful of sand—but there was nothing. So he did the only thing he could think of: he scrambled backwards until he felt a cold stone wall behind him.
The creature shook its head. “Don’t taaaaake on so, maaaanling,” he chided. “Do mortals no longer remember old Silenus?”
“The satyr?” Odysseus had thought such creatures mere nursery tales.
“Aaaaat your service,” Silenus said, then did a little capering dance on his goat legs, ending in a surprisingly graceful bow.
Odysseus was suddenly annoyed at being mocked by such a stinking, ugly creature. He stood, careful not to hit his head on the roof of the cave, and said, “I am Odysseus, prince of Ithaca.”
The satyr’s brow creased in thought. “Aaaaaa, yes—Ithacaaaa. Sour grapes. Ugly women.”
“My mother—” Odysseus began.
“Aaaall men’s mothers aaaare beautiful,” Silenus said quickly. “Now eat? Or do you intend to follow drowning with staaaaarving? The gods cannot die. But a maaaan need not choose to die twice.”
Odysseus suddenly realised he was not only terribly hungry but thirsty as well. “Water. I’d like water.” He wrinkled his nose. “That is, if you have any.”
“Here, maaaanling.” The old goat-man held out a small wooden bowl filled with water.
Odysseus reached a bit tentatively for the bowl. Then he swallowed its contents down in a single gulp. “More.”
Silenus got him another bowlful from a large pottery krater by the cave mouth. “Drink slowly, else you will bring it aaaaaall back up. Fresh waaaaater is in short supply on this island.”
“I’d guessed that,” Odysseus said, wrinkling his nose again. But in spite of the old satyr’s advice, he drank the second bowl as quickly. And when he felt the water threatening to rise up, he calmed himself by closing his eyes and waiting for the spasm to pass.
“Now eat,” Silenus said.
Odysseus watched warily, but when the old satyr passed him a large palm leaf heaped with nuts, berries, and boiled roots, Odysseus was suddenly so hungry, he quite forgot his host’s smell. He devoured the humble meal as if it were a palace feast.
“Eat the leaf, aaaas well,” Silenus said.
Maybe a goat can eat that, Odysseus thought, but all he said aloud was, “I thank you, kind sir, for the food and drink. I confess I was startled by your appearance.”
“Staaaartled …” the satyr said, and smiled slyly.
“I wasn’t afraid,” Odysseus said, “if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Not aaaat all.” Silenus nodded.
Before Odysseus could answer, something scuttered across the floor. The old satyr snatched up a club from somewhere behind him and brought it down with a loud whack. Smiling, he picked up the dead shrew by the tail. “Caaaare for seconds, young prince?”
Odysseus shook his head. Suddenly the nuts, berries, and water rushed up again, and he barely made it outside the cave in time.
Once his heaving stomach was emptied, Odysseus sat down in front of the cave mouth. It was quiet outside. Even the seabirds had grown silent.
The old satyr offered him a bowl of water, and this time Odysseus sipped it, making the single bowl last a long time.
Silenus dropped down beside him. Outside, the goat-man’s stench was bearable.
Just.
“How caaaame you here?” Silenus asked. “I raaarely have visitors.”
“Rarely?”
“Well, never before, aaaactually.” He sighed, and his long beard fluttered.
Odysseus thought about telling the old satyr the truth about his escape from the pirates. But the truth was so unheroic. If he was to gain the satyr’s co-operation, he’d have to impress it. He gave a moment’s thought to what he would say and a deep crease grew between his eyebrows, but the creature didn’t know the significance of that.
“I set out from Ithaca with five ships under my command,” Odysseus said, thinking five surely sounded better than one. And my command was grander than saying he’d been nursemaided by a merchant captain. “We sailed south to the land of the Egyptians, where we burned their cities and took their cattle, women and gold.”
Silenus leaned forward, his dark eyes bright with interest. “Is thaaaat where you injured your leg?”
“No, that was later,” Odysseus said, really getting into the story now. “We were attacked by Poseidon’s watchdog, a great serpent of the sea. It swallowed my first ship, bit the second in half, and then started to pluck the men from my own ship one by one by one with its huge yellow teeth.”
Silenus showed his own teeth, which were the colour of sand.
“I seized my spear,” Odysseus continued, “ramming it into the monster’s neck, but not before one of the serpent’s teeth gored me. Ignoring the pain, I ground the spear deep into the monster’s flesh. It struggled frantically, and I was whipped off the deck and flung far across the sea, far out of sight of my comrades.”
“Aaaaaaa,” said Silenus.
Taking this for a sound of appreciation, Odysseus continued with grand gestures. “Seeing an island, I swam for it. And … here I am.” He took a sip of the water. Really, he thought, it could have happened that way.
Silenus rubbed his beard. “Perhaaaaps,” he baaed slowly, “customs have changed since I was maaaarooned here. Aren’t you raaaaather young to be leading a waaaar baaaaand?”
“I am a prince,” said Odysseus. “Do you doubt me?”
“You’re right, maaaanling. What a poor host I aaaam to doubt aaaa prince’s word. Or thaaat a prince’s wound so recently got is aaaalready so well knitted up.”
Odysseus glanced down at the scar on his thigh, which was a dark line now, no longer the pulsing red of a new goring.
“Why should I question aaaaa story thaaat is the only real entertainment I’ve haaaad in my long exile?” The goat-man grinned.
Odysseus had the grace to look embarrassed. But only for a moment. “Marooned, you said. Exiled.”
This time it was Silenus who seemed uncomfortable. “It was aaaa misunderstanding,” he said. “Some nymphs. Too much wine. The usual thing. But I’m a saaaatyr. Whaaaat did they expect?” His voice rose in indignation. “How could I know this paaaarticular misunderstaaaanding haaaappened in Aaaaartemis’ saaaacred groves? No sense of humour, thaaaat one. None of the gods know how to laugh. Very full of themselves, they are. Aaaaartemis got her brother Aaaapollo to straaaand me here. A punishment. Long forgotten. On their paaaart. Not mine.”
Odysseus finished drinking the water. “Haven’t you even tried to escape?”
The satyr looked at him and shrugged. “Ever seen aaaa goat swim? I thought not. Still, perhaaaaps you’ve been sent by the gods to end my exile.”
Setting the bowl down, Odysseus asked carefully, “What do you mean?”
“Follow me,” said the satyr, standing.
Odysseus stood as well, but carefully. He didn’t want to lose another stomachful of water.
Ambling in a rolling gait, the goat-man seemed entirely at ease. He led Odysseus along a small rocky ledge that jutted out over the sea. Odysseus had to pick his way with a great deal more care.
On the lee side of the path were stunted trees from which a single little wren was singing its own morning song.
“I caaaan work my passaaaage,” Silenus was saying. “I’m aaaa good cook, just drop me off aaaat the first convenient spot. Cytheraaaaa, perhaps, where delicious Aaaaphrodite first rose out of the sea. Or Naaaaxos.” He smacked his lips. “Yes—it’s faaaar too long since I saaampled the sweet Naaaaxos wine.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Why—one of your ships is come to find you, O prince,” Silenus said, beaming. “Look down there in the baaaay. You could tell them how I rescued you. You could taaaake me aaas aaaa paaaassenger.”