Glyn Iliffe - King of Ithaca (Adventures of Odysseus)

Seeing that the Ithacans’ first onslaught had sent three more of their comrades to Hades and had robbed them of the advantage in numbers, the courage quickly drained from the other Taphians and they fled down the hillside. Only the warrior who faced Eperitus remained, a giant who stood a full head and shoulders above his opponents. He showed no fear as he faced the five Ithacans. Throwing his spear contemptuously to one side, he drew his sword and beckoned Eperitus to attack.

The young warrior did not disappoint him. Confident after the swift defeat of the others, Eperitus stabbed his spear forward to penetrate the man’s guard. But, though huge, he was not as slow as Eperitus had hoped and easily deflected the spear thrust with his shield. In the same move he brought his sword down upon Eperitus’s shield in a crashing blow that sent him reeling backward with his left arm numbed. Eperitus looked up from the shock of the attack and saw the Taphian raise his arm for a second swing.

Often the gods will give a man the power to think faster than the chaos and confusion about him, sharpening his awareness and enabling him to react with the speed of instinct. As the giant warrior brought his sword down in a deadly arc, his guard opened. Without thinking, Eperitus twisted aside and pushed his spear into the gap. He felt the elastic resistance of the man’s skin popping beneath the sharpened bronze, followed by the slippery welcome of his stomach as the weapon buried itself in his innards. The Taphian’s sword left his hand and bounced off Eperitus’s shield. He fell sideways and his great weight almost tugged the shaft of the spear from his assailant’s grasp. Then with a snap the intensity of the moment was gone. Eperitus pulled the spear from the twitching body and turned to the others, who were already running back up the hill to join their prince.

He looked up the rocky slope. The battle now raged at its summit, which was a small knoll on top of the larger mass. It would take them only a little while longer to skirt the mound, giving it a wide enough berth not to be noticed by the Taphians, and then climb up behind them.

‘Wait!’ he said, catching up with his comrades. ‘If we rush straight into the fight the Taphians will still have the advantage of the higher ground; if we go around and attack them from behind we’ll throw them into panic.’

Mentor looked up the hill, weighing up the suggestion as he watched the tight skirmish in which his lord and friend was fighting. ‘Then we’ll need to be quick. Come on.’

Carrying their spears at their sides they set off at an even run. A goat track led around to the other side of the hill and made the climb much quicker. Soon they were ascending from the other side of the hill and forming a line behind the Taphians.

The sight that greeted them was a desperate one. The Ithacans had by now been encircled by the greater mass of their foes, and bodies and broken or discarded weapons lay strewn all around. Odysseus’s squat, muscular form stood out in the centre of his men, fighting off two Taphians as if he were fresh to the battle. At his side was Halitherses, straining shield-to-shield against another of the mercenaries.

As he had done at Parnassus, Eperitus launched one of his spears into the back of an enemy soldier, then charged at the remainder. Another warrior turned in shock at the death of his comrade, only to receive Eperitus’s second spear point in his throat. The momentum of the thrust snapped the man’s head back and broke his neck, killing him instantly and toppling him to the ground. On either side more Taphians fell to the spears of the others. Still more were killed by Odysseus and his group as they broke through the circle of their stunned foes.

The effect of the attack was devastating. The brief and chaotic butchery that followed left only seven opponents standing, including Polybus, and these withdrew steadily before the Ithacan onslaught.

Polybus raised his sword and ordered his men forward. They were the last and the best of the Taphians and obeyed the command without compunction, whilst Polybus turned his back on them and ran. Halitherses and Mentor stood at each end of the rank of Ithacans and ordered them to stand firm and meet the attack. But as the two lines met a hand fell on Eperitus’s shoulder and pulled him out of the battle. It was Odysseus.

‘Come with me. We still haven’t finished that discussion with Polybus yet.’

Antiphus was next to them and heard the prince’s words. ‘I’m coming too,’ he said.

Odysseus did not question him, but simply turned and set off at a run in pursuit of Polybus. They followed him down the reverse slope of the hill, instinctively finding their footing amongst the treacherous boulders and rocks. Already Eperitus could see their quarry before them, running beside the course of a small stream that cut between large, steep hills. The narrow valley was green with the recent rains, and as they reached the swollen watercourse they found a level footpath that gave them more speed. Ahead of them they could see that Polybus had cast off his spear and shield and was stretching the distance between himself and their pursuit. They followed his lead, retaining only their swords and Antiphus’s bow.

Despite the heavy fighting, Odysseus showed no sign of fatigue and soon began to close on Polybus. Eperitus had never seen a man so short and stocky run with such speed, and he and Antiphus had to keep up as best they could. The stream wound its way between the spurs of the hills, which sometimes hid Polybus from sight, only to reveal him again as they passed each bend. Then, just as Eperitus’s legs were tiring beneath him, he saw Polybus head uphill. Odysseus mustered fresh energy and sprinted to where he had left the path, but there he stopped. By the time they had caught up with the prince, Polybus was nowhere in sight.

‘Where did he go?’ Antiphus asked, his hands on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath.

Odysseus pointed up the hill. ‘He’s in there.’

They looked up. Another path led to the summit where, surrounded by olive trees and overgrown with scrub, a large stone building stood. Judging by its stern silence it was disused.

‘What is it?’ Eperitus asked.

Odysseus smiled and, as if to himself, said, ‘The temple of Athena.’

Chapter Thirteen

THE TEMPLE OF ATHENA

The temple was larger and more impressive than any Eperitus had ever seen before. In Alybas they worshipped at natural places associated with the gods: groves of trees, caves or mountain springs. The only man-made objects were altars and statuettes, perhaps the occasional hut, but nothing so awe-inspiring as this. And yet what had once been a place of beauty and reverence was now a scene of waste and devastation.

They stood by a painted statue of Athena, its once rich colours faded by the sun, and looked through the entrance of the walled compound that surrounded the temple. The decorated wooden doors had been thrown down and lay shattered amidst a chaos of other debris and destruction in the courtyard beyond. Parts of the wall were staved in and the rubble was strewn about at random, punctuated by broken vases, upended tripods, clothing and even an overturned cart. Who, or whatever, had caused such damage had immense strength, and clearly did not fear the wrath of the gods. They drew their swords from their belts and walked in.

Inside the compound they could see the greater extent of the desolation. Half a dozen olive trees – sacred to Athena – had been wrenched out of the ground and left to wither in the sun. There were innumerable shards of pottery spread about, the tatters of ornamental drapes that must once have hung inside the temple itself, and dozens of clay figurines. It looked as if a whirlwind had sucked out the contents of the temple and regurgitated them over the courtyard, then resumed its chaotic path of destruction until there was nothing left to ruin but the plastered stone walls of the building itself.