‘Go and see if there is a city nearby,’ I told one of them, our herald, ‘and if possible find out who governs it. Perhaps they will be able to tell us where we find ourselves, and the route we must follow to return home. We’re travelling through a remote region that none of us knows.’
I watched as they reached the shore and approached the spring. A girl soon walked up to them. She was very beautiful and wore a bright gown of multicoloured wool, with golden necklaces and glittering pendants on her ears. She was carrying a jar on her head and had come to the spring to draw water. The men seemed to be conversing with her. It was only then, when I saw them next to her, that I realized how tall she was. Gigantic.
The girl raised her finger, pointing to something behind the hill. The men waved and signalled to us that they were going to follow her.
Eurylochus came up to me: ‘I don’t like this place. It seems deserted and yet it feels like someone is watching us from those towers up there.’
‘If they are, they’ll see that we have no hostile intentions. We’ve made no show of arms. We’ve just sent out a few men, who’ve asked a girl for directions. We’ll wait for them to come back. Don’t worry – they’ll return soon.’
We waited all afternoon for our comrades to come back. Euribates and Elpenor put out fish-traps and nets. The sea bottom was crawling with shrimps and crabs bigger than any I’d ever seen before. I sent a few more men to shore to collect reserves of fresh water. They filled jars at the spring and passed them from hand to hand in the low water until the last man of the chain hoisted them aboard ship. Standing in the water had the odd effect of distorting their proportions, so that the part of their bodies outside the water seemed long and their legs short and stubby. prepare for spending the night. It would have made sense to go ashore, light fires and cook a meal and then stretch out on the sand to sleep comfortably, but something told me that Eurylochus was right.
‘We’d better stay on the ships until our men return. It will be safer.’
I had just said this when I heard shouts coming from the area where the spring was. Two of our men were scrambling down the slope that led to the sea as fast as their legs could carry them.
‘We have to get away from here!’ they were yelling. ‘Fast! Fast!’
They dived into the sea and swam swiftly to the ship of Perimedes, the chief of the Cephalonians, who quickly pulled them on board. I drew up with my own ship so that it was nearly touching theirs. ‘What happened?’ I asked.
‘Laestrygonians! Fierce, gigantic savages!’ replied the herald in a ragged voice. ‘They got our shipmate, cut him to pieces and devoured him. It’s a miracle we got away.’ Their eyes were filled with terror. Gasping to catch a breath, they were sobbing like children. And these were my tough, seasoned Cephalonian warriors. I didn’t wait an instant, and shouted out: ‘Let’s go! Head east! We’re getting out of this trap! Row, row, row as fast as you can, set to it!’
These words were not out of my mouth when an incredibly loud noise rent the late afternoon silence. I saw an enormous boulder rolling downhill along one of the gullies carved out by rainwater. It was picking up speed at a tremendous rate as it fell. A short rise at the bottom of the long slope gave it the lift it needed to go sailing through the air. It fell square on one of our ships, breaking it in two. Screams of pain and despair echoed behind us but I shouted for my men to keep rowing. There was no time to stop or try to save the crew flailing in the frothing waves.
Another boulder appeared at the rim of the crater that crowned the high cliffs encircling the harbour and, as if pushed by invisible hands, started rolling down towards us. Then another, and another, and yet another: it was a frightful sight and the din was terrifying. One after another, the ships were struck, broken, smashed, reduced to shapeless wrecks. The sea was covered with splintered planks and ruined gear. The beautiful, agile ships that had braved so many a violent storm had been destroyed and the clear, calm mirror of our hidden haven was thick with blood and dust, strewn with corpses, wounded sailors and survivors who were desperately trying to swim to shore. That was when we learned what the boats were for. Giant brutes boarded them clutching harpoons, and steered them through the water, spearing anyone who was still alive as if they were fish. They pulled the bodies on board and took them to shore. It wasn’t difficult to understand what they were going to do with them, given the reports of the men who had already met up with them.
I found myself alone, with my ship and my crew, outside the port. I had lost the entire fleet that had followed me to Troy, which had departed from the port of Ithaca so many years earlier amid blaring bugles and fluttering standards. Unhappy companions of so many battles, of so many adventures! I wept bitterly. My shipmates wept for them, an endless stream of tears. I couldn’t stop thinking about those who I had forced, against their will, to leave the land of the flower-eaters, the land of oblivion. They would still be alive, enjoying seductive pleasures, free of any worries. If not happy, at least untroubled. Now they were only dead meat, butchered for the meal of ferocious savages.
WE DIDN’T STOP until we got to the open sea, out of reach of their boats, and then we dropped anchor. I was desperate for help, for advice, but my goddess was silent! It was no use invoking her. Regardless, in the silence of my heart, I prayed with agonized intensity that she light a tiny spark, no matter how small, in my mind, so that I might understand.
It was dark above us and below us. The sea was a sheet of bronze and the moon was new, but all at once the light ignited inside me and I understood everything with a clarity that stunned me.
What had happened was exactly the same as in the land of the cyclopes, although ending in a very different way. Then, as now, we had reached a perfect port where the waves were utterly still and a group of us went inland to reconnoitre. One of our men here had been ripped apart and devoured by a gigantic creature, and several of our comrades suffered the same fate in the cyclops’ cave. But this time, the aim of the brutes was frightfully precise, and the boulders that were thrown struck our ships and sank them. All the ships but mine. The message was clear and it was evident who had sent it to me: the god of the abyss. The blue god with his seaweed locks had finished what his son, blinded by my own hand, had not succeeded in doing. Smashing my vessels, sending ships and crews to the ocean depths.
Terror flooded my heart. One single hope: if Athena had lit that light in my mind so that I could clearly understand the significance of the events, perhaps she would also try to show me the way out. In that part of the world, where the sea knew no bounds, Poseidon was so strongly present that she could not appear to me, not while I was awake nor while I was sleeping, not as an ethereal mist, not in disguise. What she could do was stimulate my mind to understand and see clearly the designs of the gods, to seek a way to escape, to find the path that Fate had prepared for me, for Fate was stronger than the gods themselves.
That was the saddest night of my life, because I had never lost so many of my comrades before, not even on the bloody fields of Troy. I wept until dawn brightened the horizon, until the stars in the sky paled and vanished in the growing light. Like the other survivors, I remembered our dead companions in silence, shedding bitter tears, distilled by pain, into the water of the god who was our enemy.
At the hour when the sun appeared I glimpsed an enormous dark shadow gliding under the surface of the water, which rippled as it passed. Was it the god of the abyss, alongside my ship? Was he studying the keel, strong and well made, but fragile against his infinite power? Was he already planning how and when he would destroy her?
Perhaps, and yet my heart did not want to surrender. Because I had something that the powerful god of the seas and the ocean did not even know about: my fear of death and my boundless love of life, not only my own but that of the others, of my shipmates, my friends, my distant wife, the child I had never seen grow up. I would fight. I would fight to my last breath, even more furiously than I had under the walls of Troy. And when my time came
, I would face Death by staring into her empty eyes.
I spoke to the lord of the depths, that shifting shadow under my keel: ‘Oh god of the blue locks, you have heeded the prayers of your son, who I myself, Odysseus the son of Laertes, blinded. But where were you when I watched him pull the limbs off my comrades, grind their bones between his teeth? I listened as he belched up their flesh while he snored, that revolting bloody monster. What should I have done? Waited until he devoured every last one of them? What I did wasn’t enough – I should have ripped out his heart and eaten it. It was my right, the right of a guest violated and offended, a right that your brother, the great Zeus himself, holds sacred.
‘You took many lives yesterday in exchange for a single eye put out, the lives of brave men. Each one of them had a house, a wife and children, and had fought with courage for years and years under the walls of sacred Troy, always dreaming of the day he would return to his distant homeland. None of them will ever return. But I will bring my shipmates back home, in this royal ship of mine that still holds the treasures of Troy. When I meet the parents of those you killed I’ll tell them how and by whose hand their lives were spent, so that they may raise a mound on the seashore and sacrifice victims to their shades. They will finally find peace, you can be sure of it. I do not know what will become of me, because it’s impossible for a mortal to escape the wrath of a god as powerful as you, but Fate is a veiled divinity, stronger even than the gods. I will seek my destiny in every corner of land and sea, I will follow my path to its very end and not even you will be able to stop me.’
The black shadow slithered down to the depths of the sea and vanished in the dark. I gave orders to weigh anchor and loosen the sails.
WE SAILED for days and nights, drinking the water of the Laestrygonians contained in big jars at the stern. Then one day, at the first light of dawn, Perimedes, who had climbed to the top of the mast, sighted land.
It was a long promontory that extended into the sea right in front of us, covered with a thick blanket of shrubs and bushes. Here and there an oak could be seen, and there was a dense wood of tall oaks further inland. We all lined up at the bow, but there were no cries of joy as there would have been had our fleet been with us. We were alone, and we stood silently gazing at this unknown land, until the ship touched sand at the beach.
We all disembarked and I gave orders for all the men to don full armour, since I didn’t want one more comrade to die a defenceless victim. After we had ensured that the ship was solidly anchored we began to walk and headed to the highest point of the promontory. From there we could see a wide, deserted gulf and, beyond a brief stretch of sea, a small island. It was very beautiful and completely forested. Eurylochus approached me: ‘Look,’ he said, ‘down there, past that clearing. Smoke!’
He was right. A slender column of smoke was rising from a spot where the forest seemed thickest, just beyond a clearing. Flocks of birds soared from the trees, white wings wide. Their shrill cries were muted by the distance. A single house stood on the entire island. We could spy no further signs of human presence, nor had we seen any on the mainland, where we had anchored the ship.
‘Who could be living in a place like that, wanax?’ asked Euribates.
‘Maybe a shepherd. He might use a raft to take his sheep to pasture,’ replied Eurylochus.
‘There’s no trace of any other structure,’ I said, ‘as far as the eye can see.’
I could feel irresistible curiosity growing in me. I had to go. I wasn’t thinking of the dangers that might be lurking there, I wasn’t considering that Poseidon in his wrath might have devised a way to do away with us once and for all. I said: ‘We’ll return to the ship and then we’ll go and see who lives on that island. We’re armed, and still numerous, but we’ll take no risks. We have to understand where we are and how far we are from Achaia. We’ve been sailing blindly for too long, without a route. We have to search for someone who can help us.’
My shipmates nodded in agreement and together we returned to the ship and cast off the moorings. Each man took his place at the oars. The sea was calm enough and the sky was luminous. Once again, the world opening before our eyes seemed to be free of dangers. We went ashore on a wide, completely deserted, sandy beach. There was not a single human footprint, but traces of a great number of seabirds. The waves were barely visible, but they curled over the sand for a very long way.
We secured the ship and, one after another, set foot on dry land. I assigned six men to go with Eurylochus to discover where the smoke was coming from, and then to come back and tell us.
‘It won’t take you long. As you’ve seen, a man could easily walk the entire perimeter of the island in half a day. Do not stop for any reason. We’ve suffered too much grief already. Come back, and remember that every moment of delay will cost us anguish and worry.’
Eurylochus promised that he would obey my orders and he set off on foot with his men. They soon disappeared into the thick growth of myrtles and wild olives.
When the echo of their footsteps and their chatter died away, the deep silence was broken by a song. A clear, melodic voice. The voice of a woman, as sweet as that of a bride sitting at her loom.
6
WE WAITED UNTIL LATE AFTERNOON, but nothing happened. They did not come back. When evening drew close and we still didn’t see them, I reasoned that they’d been invited to stay for dinner and a cup of good wine. Nothing bad could come of it. They had already suffered such unspeakable pain, what else could possibly happen?
We waited the next day as well, but when I saw they weren’t returning I decided to go and look for them. They knew we would be worried. I’d made them promise to return as soon as they could. In any event, even if he had decided to enjoy the hospitality offered, Eurylochus would have surely sent one of the others back to tell me, given that it was such a short distance.
‘Wait for me,’ I told the others. ‘Do not move from here, I’m going alone. If by nightfall I haven’t returned, leave. Weigh the anchor and get away from here. Imagine that I have embraced each one of you, like brothers, before you set sail.’
Elpenor regarded me with an odd smile. The light skipped across his eyes, causing them to glitter with golden specks. ‘Come back soon, wanax. I don’t think we’re going anywhere without you. We’ve been together too long.’
I smiled back and then set off with a long stride. I crossed a thicket of low bushes first and then a stretch of sand that must have been carried there by the wind that blew between two high cliffs. I then entered a forest of centuries-old oaks, advancing cautiously, with my hand on the hilt of my sword. The wood was strangely quiet. The trees were still full of leaves, but I could hear no birdsong or the fluttering of wings. Not even a cricket chirped to disturb that deepening silence.
All at once, I became aware of a sensation I knew well: a sort of tremor under my skin, a sudden chill in my heart and the certainty that someone was near. Just then, a voice made me jump. My sword sprang into my hand.
‘You won’t need that here.’
A beautiful youth, with the sun in his hair, was sitting on a boulder a few steps away from me. He was holding a flower.
‘Do you live on this island? Is that your house with the hearth smoking?’
‘Not really. I come and go. It’s a tranquil place, this. Hardly anyone ever passes by but the few who do never leave.’
I drew closer. ‘What do you mean by that?’ I asked.
‘Just what I said. Why, does that seem strange to you?’
‘No, if it weren’t for the fact that I mean to stay for a short time and leave again as soon as possible.’
‘Why such haste?’
‘I want to know where my men are. I sent them to search for that house and they never came back. Do you know anything about that?’
He smiled.
‘And there’s something else I find strange about this place,’ I added. ‘It’s warm here, and yet there’s always a wisp of smoke rising from that house.’
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‘They must be cooking something. Perhaps they’re expecting guests. Perhaps they have guests.’
Cold terror seized me. My mind filled with monstrous, ferocious creatures who feed on human flesh. But a voice sounded in my heart: ‘That’s not the danger.’
‘Who are you? Can you tell me your name?’ I insisted.
‘I’d better not. But there is something I can do for you.’
He pointed at a plant not far from us. It wasn’t too big and it had tough, leathery leaves: ‘Take it.’
I grabbed hold of it and yanked with all my strength but it wouldn’t pull free. I unsheathed my sword.
‘No, you have to pull out the whole thing.’
‘I can’t.’
‘It’s easy, look.’
He reached out a hand, closed it around the tuft and uprooted it easily. He shook the dirt off, letting it fall on the ground, and held it out to me. ‘This plant is special,’ he said. ‘It’s called moly. Have you ever heard of it?’
I shook my head.
‘You have to eat the whole root before you go to that house. It will protect you.’
‘It isn’t poisonous, is it?’ I asked.
‘On the contrary. Go now, follow the smoke.’
‘Thank you. I’ll do as you say. Farewell.’
I set off.
The voice sounded again, behind me: ‘Don’t ever part from your sword.’
‘I never do,’ I replied, turning.
There was no one behind me.
I cut the root into pieces and ate it. It tasted like bitter almonds, and dripped a sour juice. I went forward, following the swirl of smoke that I could see above the tops of the trees. I’d gone a good distance; it seemed as though I must have crossed the entire island, from one side to another. I finally reached a clearing and then suddenly heard the distant, suffocated roar of a lion. I knew it was a lion because I’d heard them in the land of the flower-eaters and I’d spotted one prowling outside the village. A lion! I drew my sword. But other voices were joining the roar now: howls, snorts, growls, hisses, as if a slew of wild animals were roaming the island. Birds of prey, enormous reptiles. I felt my skin crawling and my heart froze in my chest. What was this place? Where had my world disappeared to? Had I lost it forever?
Odysseus: The Return Page 7
