Glyn Iliffe - The Gates Of Troy (Adventures of Odysseus)

‘I am not a dog, mistress,’ he muttered. ‘But I have sworn to serve the king, and I remain a man of honour.’

‘Good,’ Athena said. ‘For Odysseus will need you soon, more than he has ever done. A storm is approaching that will shake the world of men to its roots and plunge the whole of Greece into darkness.’

Odysseus, who had been looking inquisitively at Eperitus, now turned to the goddess. ‘Ithaca too?’ he asked.

‘Yes, my dear Odysseus, even your happy little kingdom. A war is brewing that will wreak death and destruction beyond the imaginings of gods and men. And when it comes, even your scheming brain and quick wits won’t be able to save you or your people from its effects.’

‘War?’ Odysseus repeated, as if the word were new to him. ‘Then is this why you’ve come to me again, after all this time? To warn me?’

Athena stepped towards him and ran her fingers through his long, auburn hair. ‘I’ve never been apart from you, Odysseus, even if you haven’t seen me. But, yes, I have come to warn you. I’m forbidden to say exactly what my father Zeus has in mind, but you will realize soon enough. Remember what the Pythoness told you in the caves below Mount Parnassus: “As father of your people you will count the harvests on your fingers. But if ever you seek Priam’s city, the wide waters will swallow you. For the time it takes a baby to become a man, you will know no home. Then, when friends and fortune have departed from you, you will rise again from the dead.”’

Odysseus lowered his face and frowned, his eyes moving as the thoughts raced through his brain, piecing together the fragments of information that had been scattered before him. Then, after a few moments silence, he looked up at the goddess. ‘A war against Troy – the city in my dream,’ he said. ‘Agamemnon wanted it ten years ago, and no doubt he still does. But if he couldn’t unite the Greeks then, how will he do it now? And how can any war last for the time it takes a baby to become a man? What could keep a man from his home and family for twenty years?’

‘The same things that men have always fought over,’ Athena commented sardonically. ‘But you should not try to foresee the future, Odysseus – prophecy is not one of your gifts. And remember, the words of the oracle are always enigmatic.’

‘But the Pythoness only said these things would happen if Odysseus goes to Troy,’ Eperitus added. ‘That means he still has a choice.’

‘Choice is an illusion that brings misery,’ Athena replied. ‘You mortals are always regretting your choices, after all. But you’re right, Eperitus – a choice of sorts remains.’

‘Then I will not go,’ Odysseus said, firmly. ‘I can’t go! I’m king of these islands, and if there are dark times ahead then my duty is to protect my kingdom and its people.’

‘Nobly spoken, Odysseus,’ Athena smiled, though her grey eyes looked sadly at the man over whom they had watched all his short life. ‘But there are things more compelling than kingdoms – sacred duties and binding oaths . . .’

‘ No !’ Odysseus shouted, turning away and staring into the trees. After a time spent in silence, he turned back to face the goddess. ‘No, my lady. I have a wife who I love more than all the things this sweet life can offer – a woman for whom I gambled everything, and who will soon be the mother of the son I have hoped for for so long. My place is with my family, and nothing Agamemnon can offer or threaten will draw me to war with Troy.’

‘And you, Eperitus?’ the goddess asked, turning her unyielding gaze on the captain of the guard. ‘How will you react if the call to war comes? There will be more glory to be had in Ilium than even your courageous heart can long for – will you follow your yearning for battle?’

She did not move, but Eperitus felt the strength of Athena’s will upon him, tempting him with his desire to seek fame against the armies of Troy and using it to test his loyalty to his friend.

‘My place is at the king’s side,’ he insisted, looking from the stern eyes of the goddess to the impassive face of Odysseus. ‘If war is coming, I will wait for it on Ithaca with Odysseus.’

‘A friend’s loyalty can be tried in many ways,’ Athena persevered. ‘Have you forgotten the words the priestess spoke to you under Mount Parnassus?’

Eperitus thought of the oracle’s bitter-sweet promise, of glory mixed with the threat of his own treachery for love’s sake. ‘No, my lady. Her warning has never been far from my mind, and I’ve always been cautious of women because of it.’

‘Even a cautious man can be caught off his guard,’ Athena said. ‘A time is coming when a female will tempt you from the path of your true destiny, but that cannot be avoided now. When a man called Calchas finds you, listen to what he says. His words will point you to your greatest desire, and warn of your greatest fear.’

She turned to Odysseus and looked at him with undisguised affection. ‘Now I must return to Olympus, but before I do I have some parting words for you, Odysseus.’

‘Yes, my lady?’

‘I know you were thinking of staying on Samos for a few days and hunting boar,’ the goddess began, glancing across at Polites and Arceisius who were already stirring, ‘but you must forget your plans and return home as quickly as you can. Penelope is already in labour.’

And with her final words ringing in their ears, the goddess was gone.

Chapter Six

NEW BEGINNINGS

‘What happened?’ Arceisius asked, rubbing his head as he sat amongst a knot of ferns. ‘I feel like I’ve been asleep for a week.’

‘Get up,’ snapped Odysseus, pulling him roughly to his feet. ‘We’re going back to Ithaca, straight away.’

The others were stirring and looking about themselves in confusion. Antiphus took Eperitus’s hand and, with an exaggerated groan, rose to his feet. He patted the dead leaves from his cloak and looked his captain in the eye.

‘What’s going on, Eperitus? Why did we just fall asleep like that? And where’s that old man?’

Eperitus glanced across at Odysseus, who was helping Polites out of a clump of thick fern. The king caught his eye and, after a moment’s pause, walked over and placed an arm about Antiphus’s shoulder.

‘He wasn’t just an old man,’ the king said in a low voice. ‘He – I mean she – was Athena.’

‘Athena!’ Arceisius exclaimed loudly, catching the king’s words. ‘The goddess Athena?’

‘Of course the goddess,’ said Eperitus irritably, gesturing for his squire to keep his voice down. ‘She appeared to Odysseus and me after she’d put you lot to sleep.’

‘But why would an immortal appear to you?’ asked Polites in his deep, ponderous voice. ‘The gods haven’t spoken with men since before our grandfathers were born.’

‘You’ve a lot to learn if that’s what you think,’ Antiphus sniffed, looking at the Thessalian with something between dislike and distrust. ‘Athena has shown herself to Odysseus many times before now. The king is her favourite.’

‘That’s enough, Antiphus,’ Odysseus ordered. He had told his close friends some years before that the goddess had appeared to him and Eperitus on Mount Parnassus and at her temple in Messene, and the news had quickly become common knowledge throughout Ithaca; but the king still felt uncomfortable whenever people mentioned it. ‘The fact is, she came to tell me that Penelope is in labour and that I should return home as soon as possible.’

‘Zeus’s beard!’ Antiphus shouted, causing the rest of the men to look over. ‘But Actoris said the child wouldn’t come for at least three weeks.’