Valerio Manfredi - Odysseus - The Return

We finally arrived at the city gates. The doors were carved with figures of fantastic, unfamiliar animals. At the centre was an eight-pointed star, with four long points and four shorter ones alternating. From inside came the sound of flutes and cymbals, as if a celebration were under way, with singing and dancing. The air was completely still. Not a puff of wind, not the slightest breeze. I found it very odd to be on an island without feeling the wind’s breath. I remembered my youth on Ithaca well: every afternoon, whether it was winter or summer, the wind would pick up and swiftly cross the channel between my island and Same, ruffling the forest leaves with a thin breeze that soon became blustery, and could turn very cold in the wintertime.

I knocked with the pommel of my sword and waited. Just a few moments passed before the tall doors began to turn on their hinges and opened wide. We entered cautiously, hands firmly on the swords we held under our cloaks, and proceeded towards a deserted courtyard, following the sounds of merrymaking, which seemed to be coming from inside the palace. There were no guards, no warriors, nor were there any weapons hanging from the walls. They were decorated, instead, with ornamental objects: masks of unknown creatures and of men and women with unfamiliar features. Fanciful figures, symbols perhaps, cast in gold and silver surrounded them. The men walked behind me, murmuring low-voiced at the wondrous things on view. The light of the day was quickly fading but another light in front of us filtered from under a solid bronze door adorned with friezes of gold, silver and red copper, polished to a high sheen.

That door also fell open before we could make a move, letting us in to a big hall with tables prepared for a feast. At the head, on a silver throne, sat a strong-limbed man, not yet old despite the thick head of smooth white hair that shone like silver framing his face. All around him, reclining on couches covered with linen and purple fabrics, were young men and women, drinking wine from magnificently crafted glittering cups.

‘Welcome, foreigners!’ he said to us. ‘Come forward. Here you will be treated well.’

My heart leapt in my chest. What a difference from the atrocious welcome of the savage cyclops! Well, he’d got what he deserved, in the end, and although his curse dogged me I was not sorry that I had blinded him and condemned him to a lifetime of darkness.

Servants immediately added places at the table close to the throne for all of us, and when we had satiated our hunger and thirst for good wine, our host asked us to speak up: ‘Who are you, my guests? Where do you come from? What has brought you here? Not many men have ventured this far.’

I spoke, as I always did, and as always I did not tell the whole truth: ‘We are Achaians. We were returning from the war after having destroyed the walls of mighty Troy, but a strong gale dragged us far off course. For nine days and nine nights the storm tossed us on the sea. Then the wind let up and the waves carried us to your island. May the gods give you health and prosperity in exchange for your hospitality.’

‘Are those your ships that wait at the entrance to the port?’

‘They are. We did not want you to imagine that you had pirates at your gates.’

‘You did well. I have no weapons, as you can see, but I can count on much greater forces, and that’s why anyone who dares to come here with hostile intentions pays a high price. But send one of your men, now, to tell the others to join us. Here they will find water and food; they will have nothing to worry about. The news of the fall of Troy has reached our ears. Tell me about it, I pray you, for my curiosity is boundless, and my sons and daughters will be glad to hear your story as well.’

We stayed for one long month at the court of Aeolus, his wife, and his sons and daughters, all united in marriage amongst themselves. Every day, as evening fell, the king invited us to his table, ready with a thousand questions for me about the war, its bravest heroes, our most daring endeavours. He never tired of listening to my stories and I never tired of telling them. This is how a guest repays the hospitality he receives, by recounting events that the master of the house will never be able to see or experience in person. I could feel his interest becoming keener day by day. He asked about Hector and Achilles, about Great Ajax and about the king of Achaian kings, Agamemnon. At times he even clapped his hands like a child when I began my tales.

The strangest thing was that he never asked to know my name, as was the right of any host with his guest. Nor did I tell him who I was. He called me his ‘guest’ or his ‘dear friend’ and that was fine with me. One evening it was I who bid him to speak: ‘Oh lord who reigns over this island, I would like to ask you some questions, for I am always desirous to learn that which other men do not know.’

‘Speak, then, and I will answer you.’

‘From the moment we arrived, I have never felt a breath of wind. How is this possible? I have never seen an island without wind, although the islands are quite numerous in my homeland and I have visited a great number of them.’

‘I shall tell you why: I am a tamer of winds and I have power over them. This power has been given to me by the gods. They know well that I have never abused this gift.’

‘I had imagined as much,’ said I, ‘and I would thus appeal to you for that which lies closest to my heart. My companions and I have suffered greatly under the walls of Troy and on our voyage at sea as well. Our greatest desire is to see our home again, the land where we were born and where we have our houses and our families. On this unfamiliar sea we despair of finding our way. Help us, I beg of you, tell us how we can find our home again.’

The lord of the winds smiled: ‘I will be glad to do so, because I have much enjoyed this time with you. Prepare for your departure and tomorrow I will join you at the port.’

We took our leave, rendering homage to him and to the queen, and returned to our ships. I was happy because I felt that the end to our troubles and tribulations was near. Would we have to cross the wall of fog again? Would we return to familiar waters, recognize the invisible paths of the sea?

The next day, the ships were ready, loaded with food and water, and the men were sitting at the rowlocks, their hands gripping the oar handles. When Dawn tinged the sky and the sea foam pink, Aeolus, the lord of the winds, appeared on a litter borne by eight servants. Next to him was a well-sewn skin, its mouth closed with a silver chain. He stopped in front of me: ‘Listen well to what I am about to tell you, even if it seems impossible to believe. In this bag, I have trapped every unfavourable wind that could push you off your course. The only one I’ve left free is Zephyr, which blows from the west. All you need to do is steer straight and you will arrive at your island.’

I never took my eyes off Aeolus as he spoke. I was careful not to miss any tiny movement of his face or his lips, any change of the light in his eyes, and it seemed to me that, after having pronounced the last word, a shadow crossed his features. It was barely perceptible, and yet his mouth seemed to twist into a mocking, or perhaps pitying, smile. I swiftly told myself that I was imagining it, because my heart wanted to believe completely in his promise. When I thanked him I had tears in my eyes. His servants stowed the big sack, made of a single bull hide, under the planks at the stern of the royal ship, my own, and I went aboard. I had the signal for departure hoisted and the horn sounded once, twice, three times.

The fleet made a wide circle inside the port, then my ship ventured out into the open sea and behind us the other ships, sailing in an oblique line so that I would never lose sight of any of them, by day or by night. My eyes turned back to seek out Aeolus, the tamer of winds, and the walls of his city reflecting the light of the sun. I left a lookout at the bow and went to the stern so I could govern the steering oar myself. All day and all night.