He still liked to tug at my fur and whenever Odysseus or Penelope were around, they would make sure that he was not too rough with me. Soon enough, my bandages came off and the splint removed from my leg. I wasn’t exactly ready for another boar hunt but was quite capable of engaging with Telemachus and his busy fingers. Whenever Odysseus or Penelope weren’t around, the nursemaid, Eureklya, kept a watchful eye on both of us to ensure our play didn’t become too vigorous—not that she had anything to worry about from me. I would rather the boar gut me again than accidentally harm Telemachus.
I continued to sleep in the bedchamber during my convalescence although I sensed that Penelope would have preferred otherwise. Unlike Odysseus, she was one of those people who, regardless of her feelings toward me, still considered me a dog. Dogs did not sleep in her bedroom. I think I was starting to annoy her by being underfoot all the time. On more than one occasion, she had tripped over me even though I did my best to avoid being a nuisance. My guess was that once I was fully healed, I would no longer be welcome next to her bed. My status with both Odysseus and Telemachus was altogether different. To Odysseus, I was considered a treasured companion and to Telemachus, a joyful playmate. I knew that if Odysseus had his way, I would sleep forever beside him.
The matter came to a head one dark, stormy night. Embarrassing as it is to confess, I often felt scared during storms. Flashes of lightning filled the air and cracks of thunder shook the tiles on the roof. My sleep was broken and restless but something other than the storm was troubling me. A feeling of unease; something out of place.
There was a strange presence in the room. Someone, or something, was in there with us. Slowly, I raised my head. It was very dark in the room but my night vision is much better than any human’s. A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the space and I saw a figure standing next to Telemachus’ cot. He had the appearance of a beautiful youth, with curly golden hair. His innocent appearance was belied by his warrior garb—gleaming armor and a bow and quiver of arrows slung over his back. He gave no indication that he was aware of me and like the earlier night when the woman had come, Odysseus, Penelope, and Telemachus slept on, oblivious.
I remained where I was, unsure what to do. The last visitor to this room had meant no harm. Why would this one be any different? He smelt like she did.
And then I saw it in the next flash of lightning. The youth had pulled a small dagger from his belt. He held it over Telemachus, his intention clear.
Instinct took over. I jumped to my feet and launched myself at the intruder, aiming for the vulnerable spot at his heel, unprotected by his greaves. I bit hard, but was dismayed when my powerful bite barely pierced his flesh. The youth however, cried out in a surprisingly deep voice. He kicked me off but growling, I flew at him again, this time aiming for his throat. My jaws were almost on his exposed jugular when he suddenly disappeared. There is no other way to explain it. One moment he was there, the next, gone. Instead of making contact with his body, I struck the only other solid object in my path. Telemachus’ cot.
The next few moments were confusing for all concerned. Telemachus’ cot went flying. I tumbled to the ground next to my wailing human brother. Odysseus was on his feet, a dagger in his hand. Penelope was reaching for her son, her face screwed up into a mask of maternal shock and anger. Lightning flashed again in the room adding to the chaos. I cowered, refusing to give in to my instinctive desire to seek sanctuary under the bed.
The initial panic over, Odysseus, still clutching his dagger, bent to light an oil lamp. The room sprang into stark relief.
“How is Telemachus?” asked Odysseus, striding over to Penelope’s side to check on his son. Comforted by Penelope’s breast, Telemachus had ceased his cries.
“He has a bruise on his head but he is otherwise fine,” said Penelope, her voice tight. “A little scared, much like us.” She paused for a moment and looked from me to her husband. “Odysseus,” she said finally, in a tone that brooked no argument, “get Argos out of here.”
“He was probably frightened by the lightning,” said Odysseus. “It … ”
“Odysseus!” said Penelope. There was an edge to her voice. “I’m sure it was an accident, but I cannot risk the life of our son because of a scared dog. Argos is almost fully healed now. There is no reason why he can’t sleep outside in the hallway.”
Odysseus sighed. “As you wish, my wife.” He looked at me and raised his eyebrows as if to say “What can I do? Don’t blame me.”
I had never felt so bad in my entire life. Accident or not, I had brought harm to Telemachus. I wished that I could tell Odysseus and Penelope about the stranger who had tried to murder their son. But of course, I could not. There was nothing I could do. If I stubbornly refused to leave, I would just embarrass myself and worse, risk aggravating my master.
Resigned to my fate, I walked to the door and waited while Odysseus opened it and moved my bed into the hallway. Watching him, I couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of helplessness and despair. Without me, Telemachus was in danger. There would be nothing stopping the stranger from returning.
Odysseus watched as I made myself as comfortable as I could on my goatskin, circling three times to ensure I had the perfect sleeping position. I looked up anxiously at Odysseus, convinced that our relationship was ruined. Sensing my vulnerability, he patted my head reassuringly.
“It’s not your fault, Argos. I know it was an accident, but my wife and son come first. In this, I bow to Penelope’s superior wisdom.”
He returned to his room and shut the door behind him. The noise echoed along the hallway with a note of finality. Outside the palace, the storm continued to rage. Burying my nose under one paw, I shivered with fear. Fear for myself but mostly for Telemachus.
Chapter Six
Months passed. Thankfully, the golden youth did not return but I was ever conscious that he might and slept lightly, ready to leap through the door at a moment’s notice.
Telemachus and I continued to grow. By the following spring, I was fully grown and Telemachus was walking. We continued to bond but I was aware that eyes were constantly on me.
From that moment during the storm, Penelope watched me very carefully whenever I interacted with her son. To be honest, I was surprised that I was still allowed to play with him at all but I gathered that there had been some drama when Telemachus had demanded—and been denied—my companionship. Telemachus was a happy, good natured boy but he was also spirited and willful. His first word was “Argos” so it’s not surprising that he reacted badly when told that he couldn’t play with me.
I guess Penelope decided it was easier to give Telemachus what he wanted rather than endure a screaming, angry infant every time he saw me. And he did see me a lot. It was inevitable. Wherever there was Odysseus, so was I, his shadow—other than the bedroom, of course.
If Penelope wasn’t around to supervise, then it was his nurse, Eureklya. Odysseus watched us too, but not from any thought that I might hurt his son. He knew I wouldn’t. He watched us because it brought him joy. Confused about what had happened during the storm, I could tell that he was wrestling with the problem, turning it over in his mind. He suspected that something else was going on. He was not called cunning or clever Odysseus for nothing. Affairs of state, however, meant he had to set the problem aside for the time being.
Once again, a king from a neighboring island came to discuss a potential alliance. This was Meges, King of Doulikhion, son of Phyleus. He was a great bear of a man, larger even than Eumaeus and sported a huge beard that put Eumaeus’ own to shame. He towered over Odysseus and was almost as broad across the shoulders. With him came numerous retainers and his son, Elatus. Elatus was nothing like his father—slightly built with a weak, beardless chin. I recognized the smell of them both from their earlier visit and it was not a scent I savored.
Odysseus tolerated Meges but their relationship was marked by a threatening undercurrent which I could almost taste. This was because Odysseus had all
owed Meges to remain sovereign of Doulikhion, even though it actually fell within Odysseus’ own kingdom. “Greetings, Odysseus, son of Laertes,” boomed Meges as he and his son rode up to the palace. Only Meges and Elatus were mounted. The rest of their retainers were on foot. Even I knew that it was unnecessary and slightly ostentatious to bring horses to the island when Odysseus would have provided them for his guests. Meges was making a point. Only rich kings could afford to own and keep horses.
“Greetings to you also, Meges, son of Phyleus,” said Odysseus, spreading his arms wide. “Welcome to Ithaca.” To honor Meges, most of Odysseus’ household was gathered outside the palace to welcome their guests. This included Penelope, Telemachus, Eumaeus, and of course myself, sitting obediently at my master’s side. Even Amycus was there, but because of his disfavor, found himself near the rear of the massed retainers. I was quietly pleased by that.
“This is my son, Elatus,” said Meges. “When last you saw him, he was but a youth. Now he is a man.”
“I can see that,” said Odysseus cautiously. Everyone could clearly see that Elatus was barely into his teenage years. Hardly a man yet. “Greetings, Elatus,” he said politely.
Elatus inclined his head. “And to you also, great Odysseus. My father has told me much about you.”
“All good, I hope,” said Odysseus, chuckling.
“For the most part,” replied Elatus with a half-smile. Meges looked at his son sharply and something passed between them. Elatus lowered his head.
“Well then,” said Odysseus, forcing a smile. “We have much to talk about, then. Come. We have prepared a feast in honor of your arrival.”
Meges and Elatus dismounted and led their retainers into the great hall where they were escorted to other parts of the palace to refresh themselves.
Later that night, the true banquet began. Although Odysseus sometimes entertained commoners in his banquet hall, this night it was reserved solely for the highborn. Eumaeus, as Odysseus’ most loyal and trusted friend was there, even though technically he was a commoner.
Penelope attended of course, sitting to the left of Odysseus at the head of the table. Meges and his son sat at the far end, in the place reserved for honored guests. It was a large hand crafted table made from some imported wood and could seat around thirty guests. Tonight, only half those places were taken. Meges and Elatus had only brought four other members of their party. They were the only ones deemed worthy to sit at the same table as the kings. Their other retainers were being entertained in the great hall. The remaining places were filled by senior members of Odysseus’ household, friends, and companions.
I sat next to Odysseus’ chair, not because I was hopeful of scraps from the table, but because that was my place. Having said that, if any scraps were thrown my way, I ate them without hesitation. While I like to keep up the appearance of dignity, I am not above chewing on any tasty morsels that cross my path.
The night wore on and both Meges and Elatus were heavily in their cups. Odysseus was drinking sparingly, sipping from a goblet of heavily watered wine.
“That’s a fine dog you have there, my lord Odysseus,” said Meges. I had observed him staring at me outside the palace and now he had moved from his chair in order to get a better look. “May I?” he asked, reaching out one huge hand.
Odysseus shrugged. “If Argos will allow it,” he said mildly.
I did allow it even though I was not accustomed to being touched by anyone other than Odysseus’ immediate family. I did not want to disgrace my master by growling or snapping even though Meges’ hands were rough. He inspected my ears, teeth, and limbs thoroughly. Perhaps a little too thoroughly for my liking.
“He’s a big brute. Strong looking. Must be fast. You wouldn’t have named him Argos if he wasn’t.” Meges grinned and straightened, taking his hands from me. I stood more proudly hearing those words. I knew that, compared to other dogs, I was a fine specimen. Certainly not the largest or the strongest but I had my fair share of both. As for speed, well, that was a different story. I had never met a dog or any other creature that was faster than me. I was faster even than Odysseus’ great horse.
This is not false pride and I am not one given to boasting. I merely point out the facts. Since my recovery, Odysseus had taken me on a few more boar hunts and I had not encountered a boar that I could not run down.
“No dog was named better,” said Eumaeus, taking a gulp from his goblet. “Never seen one faster. Makes him a great hunter.”
“And he’s loyal, too,” said Penelope. “His loyalty and obedience to Odysseus has to be seen to be believed.”
“I could do with a dog like that,” mused Meges. He glanced at Odysseus, a calculating look in his eye. “I confess, royal Odysseus, that other than to discuss an alliance, I had another motive for coming here to Ithaca.”
Odysseus raised one eyebrow. I knew that my master had been expecting this. “And that was … ?”
“Your dog, Argos. I have heard of him. I have heard how he defeated a boar the likes of which has never been seen before. There are whispers that the boar was Hades-born.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” said Odysseus, smiling, but there was an edge to his voice.
“I will get to the point,” said Meges. “I would like to buy your dog.”
The room went silent. Penelope was watching her husband carefully. I could feel the tension in the air. Eumaeus and Odysseus’ other companions had frozen. I half expected them to pull weapons from their belts.
“Argos is not for sale,” said Odysseus. The words came out as barely a whisper but they were clearly audible to all in the banquet hall.
“Come now,” said Meges, with forced cheerfulness. “Everything is for sale. Name your price.”
“Not for any price,” said Odysseus, his voice tight, controlled. “I will say this one more time, Meges, and heed my words carefully because I am not accustomed to repeating myself—Argos is not for sale.”
Meges was undeterred. “I will give you three horses for him.” Even I pricked my ears up at that. No dog was worth one horse, let alone three. I was incredibly flattered that I was deemed so valuable but also a little worried. It was a ridiculous offer and one that was impossible to refuse. Would my master really sell me? No man would turn down an offer like that.
But Odysseus did. “You seem a little hard of hearing, Meges. You are my honored guest here in my palace and as such, free from molestation. But ask again, and honored guest or not, you will feel my sword.”
Meges blanched at this. He was a big, powerful man—clearly a warrior—but Odysseus was also a warrior, one whose prowess on the battlefield was legendary. Only a fool would challenge him. Meges was no hero and certainly no match for Odysseus.
A little shaken, Meges stopped pursuing the matter and wisely resumed his seat next to his son.
“What about a contest then?” asked Elatus. Ah, I thought. Here it is. This is probably what they had planned all along. It was well known that Odysseus struggled to refuse a contest or wager.
“I’m listening,” said Odysseus.
“My royal father let me bring my own dog to your island, O’ noble Odysseus,” said Elatus. “I left him with your Master of Kennels. What I propose is this. We release a hare. The first dog to catch it is the winner.”
“And what of the stakes?” asked Odysseus. He was leaning forward slightly but his face betrayed nothing. Only those who knew him really well could tell how interested he was.
“I assume it would be foolish to suggest that the winner gets to keep the loser’s dog?” ventured Elatus. One look at Odysseus’ face told him to move on. “Ah … ah then, how about a horse’s weight in gold?”
I heard someone gasp. It was a huge amount of money. Enough to keep five hundred soldiers armed and fed in the field for months. Not many kings could afford to make such a bet. Even Odysseus, who was considered a wealthy and powerful king, would think twice about the amount. But Odysseus loved a wager. Not only that, b
ut he would lose face by refusing or even haggling. Meges and Elatus had him and Odysseus knew it.
“Very well,” agreed Odysseus. “We will have your little contest, tomorrow at dawn.”
“My husband … ” said Penelope.
“I have made my decision,” said Odysseus stubbornly. And indeed, he had. Like his wife, once Odysseus had made up his mind, there was no changing it. Penelope had the last say on many matters in the palace but wagers were not among them. It was considered men’s business and the opinions of women were not welcome.
“Now, if you excuse me,” said Odysseus, “I wish to retire for the night.” Without a backward glance, Odysseus departed. I trotted behind, sensing that he wanted to be alone but knowing that he would make an exception for me.
In the adjacent anteroom, a voice stopped him. “My lord. A moment of your time.” It was Eumaeus.
“What is it, Eumaeus? I am tired and in no mood for idle talk.”
“This is not idle,” said Eumaeus, lowering his voice so that the words came out in a whisper. “I came to offer counsel even though I can plainly see that you desire no such thing.”
“Speak then,” said Odysseus roughly. “The sooner you do, the sooner I can go to my bed.”
“I believe Meges and Elatus seek to cheat you. They will use the money to raise an army with which to take Ithaca.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” said Odysseus tiredly. “But they can cheat as much as they like. Argos will win regardless.” My chest swelled with pride at these words, but I felt the insidious touch of doubt creep into my self-confidence. Odysseus was risking a great deal—possibly even his kingdom—on me. I was fast but I knew that Meges and Elatus must be planning something. Why else make such a huge bet? I didn’t want to let Odysseus down. I would rather die.
Argos Page 5
