‘Athena?’ Eperitus asked, pausing to look at the king, who avoided his eye and carried on walking. Eperitus ran to catch up with him. ‘What did she say? Was it about Penelope again?’
He knew Odysseus had long enjoyed the blessing of the goddess. As a child he had often seen her in his waking dreams, sitting on his bed at night and comforting him when he was lonely. She had once saved him from a wild boar, and when he became a man he had repaid her by making her his patron goddess. Ten years ago she had appeared before him and Eperitus on Mount Parnassus – where they had gone to seek the advice of the oracle – and then at Messene. A few months later she had brought Eperitus back to life after he had died saving Odysseus from the knife of an assassin. But since then the king had seen or heard nothing of her – until she had come to him in a dream two nights ago, telling him Penelope would shortly give him a son.
‘She didn’t speak this time,’ Odysseus said. ‘We were standing on a plain under the moonlight, with the sound of the sea behind me and the smell of brine in my nostrils. Before me was a great city built on a hill. Its walls and towers were gleaming like silver, and it was both beautiful and terrible at the same time. Even though Athena was beside me the sight of that city struck me with fear and sadness, as if it were a symbol of the end of my happiness. Of all happiness.’
‘What does it mean?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps nothing, but I don’t think so – it left me with a feeling that doom is approaching. You remember the words of the oracle, of course: I will be king over my people for ten years, and then I will have to choose between my home and Troy. This is the tenth year of my reign, Eperitus.’
Eperitus recalled the meeting in the caverns beneath Mount Parnassus, where the priestess had spoken the prophecy that had haunted the king for so long. It was there, also, that she had told Eperitus his fate was bound up with Odysseus’s, for good or bad.
‘I haven’t forgotten the words of the Pythoness,’ Eperitus replied. ‘Yet I can’t see what will happen to force such a choice on you, or, if it comes, why you can’t just remain on Ithaca.’
But Odysseus did not reply. Before long they saw the orange light of a fire through the trees. As they approached, a man stepped out from the shadows and levelled his spear at them.
‘Not a step closer,’ he ordered, brandishing the weapon threateningly in an attempt to disguise his own nervousness. ‘Who are you and what do you want here?’
‘Apollo and Ares, come to bring death and destruction to all who stand in our way,’ Eperitus replied, pushing the point of the spear away from his chest.
The man was similar in height to Eperitus, but had short, hairy legs and a large stomach that hung down over his belt. He squinted at Eperitus through his small, pig-like eyes, then with a half-sneer of recognition raised his weapon and stepped back.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said with badly disguised contempt. Then, turning to Odysseus, he gave a quick bow before offering his hand. ‘Welcome back, cousin. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you in this darkness.’
Odysseus gripped the other man’s wrist and smiled. ‘Who let you stand guard, Eurylochus? Everyone knows you’ve got the eyesight of a mole.’
Without waiting for an answer, the king clapped his cousin on the shoulder and strode off towards the welcoming light of the campfire with Eperitus at his side. They could see the figures of several men eating and drinking around the vivid orange flames, and the rich aroma of roasted meat made their mouths water in anticipation.
‘I don’t know what you’ve got in mind for dealing with those bandits,’ Eperitus said, ‘but I pray to the gods you’ll leave Eurylochus here. He should never have been allowed to come with us, Odysseus – he’s a clumsy, self-important idiot with no idea about fighting. If we’re not careful he’ll put us all in danger.’
‘Laertes insisted he come,’ Odysseus replied with an indifferent shrug, ‘and I wasn’t going to argue with my own father about the matter. Besides, if you’re lucky Eurylochus’ll get his head chopped off and you’ll never have to put up with him again.’
Eperitus ignored the comment. Eurylochus had shown him nothing but disdain since he had been made captain of the royal guard ten years ago, a position that Eurylochus, as Odysseus’s cousin and a lesser member of the royal family, felt should have been given to him by right. The fact he had skulked out of the greatest battle in Ithaca’s history – against a rebellion supported by a Taphian invasion force – did not stop him from despising Eperitus’s good fortune. Nevertheless, Eperitus did not want to see the fat fool slain needlessly.
‘And how do you intend to defeat two-dozen heavily armed warriors, assuming they refuse your invitation to return peacefully to the mainland?’ he asked as they paused at the edge of the broad clearing.
‘That’s easy,’ Odysseus answered blithely. ‘You’ve been itching for a chance of glory, Eperitus, so I’m going to send you to fight them.’
Chapter Two
THE QUEEN OF SPARTA
Alone wolf stood on the empty road and sniffed the cold air. The sable heavens were filled with stars, whilst a thin crescent of moon was rising over the dark peaks of the Taygetus Mountains in the west. Its light shivered on the surface of the fast-flowing river that ran alongside the road, the noise of which almost drowned out the gentle bleating of sheep that had drawn the hungry wolf down from the hills.
Seeing the low wall of a sheep pen not far from the road, she knew from experience that a man would be sleeping across the single entrance, his crook close to hand. But the animal had not eaten in two days and was desperate. She trotted across the field towards the enclosure, drawn by the sound and the smell of the fat sheep within, instinctively readying herself to jump the sleeping shepherd and snatch a lamb. Saliva was already dripping from her pink gums as she anticipated the taste of warm flesh running with blood, when another sound stopped her in her tracks.
Turning her head to the south, where the smell of the sea was carried strongly on the night breeze, the wolf saw a line of torches moving up the road, carried by tall men in armour that glinted in the moonlight. Skulking low to the ground, her grey fur indistinguishable amongst the rocks and scrub, she watched the procession coming closer and closer until it was no longer safe for her to remain. She raised herself and was about to run back towards the hills when a low whistle stopped her. Looking back at the men, she saw one of them hand his armaments to a comrade and leave the road. He strolled directly across the field towards the waiting animal.
Curiously, the wolf realized she did not feel afraid. She watched the man pull something out of a bag that hung from his shoulder, dangle it from his fingertips and give another low whistle. The smell of dried meat caught the wolf’s nostrils. Against her instincts, which seemed unable to function naturally in the man’s presence, she began to edge closer towards the strip of flesh that hung from his hand. Then, her caution forgotten, she lifted herself to her full height and trotted straight up to the proffered meat.
‘I knew you were hungry,’ the man said, feeding the length of beef into the animal’s jaws and stroking her mane of coarse hair. ‘And you don’t want to go risking those sheep. You leave them alone and go find yourself a rabbit or two instead.’
He stood and pointed to the hills. The wolf looked up at him, her yellow eyes shining, then turned and ran off into the darkness. Paris watched her go with a smile on his lips, before returning to the road where his men awaited him.
There were a dozen of them, all grinning with pleasure at their leader’s mastery of the wild animal. A handsome young warrior stepped forward and handed Paris his spear and tall, rectangular shield.