Argos

by Simpson, Phillip

  “Those gods and goddesses who wish Odysseus harm. It is not good enough for them to punish Odysseus himself. They wish to torment him by bringing calamity upon those who he cherishes most.”

  “So, one of the gods did cause Telemachus to fall into the crevice?”

  Athena nodded. “They did indeed. The gods, in case you didn’t know, have the ability to take on almost any form. Did any of those goats seem unusual to you?”

  I shook my head. “No,” I confessed. That was the truth. I would’ve thought that even disguised, I would still be able to sniff out a god. Clearly I hadn’t.

  “That was because some of the gods have decided to play the game a little … unfairly,” she said, a tiny smile playing at the corner of her lips. “We are not meant to directly interfere but it seems that after the events at Troy, the game has changed. During those battles, many of the gods and goddesses—myself included—directly intervened in the outcome of the conflict, going so far as to kill mortals or to influence events. Zeus himself has forbidden such intervention in the future but that hasn’t stopped some of the others. You should have been able to smell a god, but it seems that the god in question took on every aspect of the goat. And I do mean every aspect. Something that is considered disdainful to the rest of us. That is why you couldn’t smell it.”

  “Ah,” I said, thoroughly confused now.

  “As I warned Penelope, Odysseus now has an even more powerful immortal enemy. Poseidon. Odysseus killed his son and now Poseidon wants his revenge. An eye for an eye, if you will.” For some reason, Athena found this last statement amusing. Her smile broadened. “The only thing stopping his revenge is you,” she continued, composing herself. “Telemachus for his son. You have foiled him once, he will keep trying until he succeeds or until Zeus takes an active part in this game and stops him. If you are no longer in a position to thwart him, Telemachus will be much easier prey.”

  “And how will he ensure I am no longer in a position to thwart him?”

  “I cannot give you the details. Be warned though. It will happen soon. Possibly sooner than you realize. I can, however, help you in other ways.”

  Without appearing to move, she was suddenly right next to me. She bent down, touched me gently with one hand, and closed her eyes.

  Something surged through my body, sizzling my nerves, igniting every part of my being. I don’t mind admitting that it hurt—a lot. I felt like I was on fire. My soul was seared in it. My body shook and then thankfully, I lost consciousness or whatever passed for consciousness in a place like that. Before I descended once again into darkness, I comforted myself with the knowledge that when I awoke, I would be back on Ithaca and some sort of normalcy would resume.

  I was wrong. When I did return to the land of the living, it was not to the place I expected.

  The quiet, sheltered spot where I had slept in the sun was gone. At first, I was confused. Had Athena transported me somewhere else? I was curled up on cold, hard planks. I stood and tried to stretch but found that I could not stand properly. There were stout wooden bars all around me.

  Despite being disorientated, I quickly realized where I was. In a cage.

  I don’t think I could’ve stood properly in any case. For some reason, my legs were quivering and my vision was a little blurred. There was a scent around my muzzle that was familiar.

  Some sort of blanket or covering was covering the cage. It let in enough dim light for me to see clearly but there were no gaps or tears for me to peek through. Then I became aware of another fact. Wherever I was, or whatever I was on, was moving.

  I had enough experience with boats to recognize the slow rise and fall of water beneath me. If that wasn’t enough of a clue, the strong, sharp smell of salt assailed my senses. So, I was in a cage on a boat. That only left two questions. Why and who?

  Moments later, both those questions were answered when the covering was lifted. Bright sunlight intruded and I blinked heavily, squinting at the figure now squatting next to my cage.

  “Hello, Argos,” said the figure I immediately recognized by both smell and sound. “Good to see you. It’s been a long time. The members of this crew must think I’m mad talking to a dog, but you know what? I don’t care. To me, you’re more than just a dog. You represent my shame and disgrace. I’ve dreamt about this moment for years, biding my time, waiting for a chance to exact my revenge. And now that it’s come, it’s almost everything I hoped for. And you know something? This is just the start of it. For you, the humiliation has just begun. I lived with mine for years, now it’s your turn.”

  I would like to say I was surprised by this turn of events, but I confess I wasn’t. If I unlocked the deepest fears that lay within my beating heart, this would have been one of the foremost. I had strongly suspected that he would never let sleeping dogs lie. You won’t be surprised at all to find out who this man was. His face had changed little—the same bony, almost skeletal face. Cheeks a little more shrunken than I remembered. More lines around his eyes, a little more gray in his hair, but other than that, there was no mistaking him. It was a face I would sooner forget.

  It was, of course, the former Master of the Hounds at the palace in Ithaca. The man who had left in disgrace with a promise from Odysseus that if he was ever seen on the island again, he would be killed.

  It was Amycus.

  So began this next, most unpleasant stage of my life, formative in its own way but something I’d rather have avoided. It’s not like I had a choice though.

  I can’t really remember many details of my shipboard experience, save that it lasted no longer than a day or two. I do remember trying vainly to escape but even I am no match for thick, seasoned wood. I slept through most of it, waking only to lap at the bowl of filthy water tossed into my cage through a small hatch. I received nothing to eat.

  Thankfully, my legs stopped shaking and my vision returned to normal. In fact, more than normal. Everything seemed to be crystal clear. Every detail of the bars around me, the wood beneath my feet and the cloth covering the cage were revealed in all their mundane glory.

  My eyesight had never been as good—or as colorful. I have heard that dogs cannot see in color. I have no idea how anyone knows this. Have they seen through the eyes of a dog? I can’t speak for every dog, but I see various shades of color; but this, this was something amazing. I was almost overwhelmed by the richness surrounding me. I suspected that Athena had a part to play in this. One of her gifts, perhaps? If so, I failed to see the usefulness of it. Being able to decipher every nuance of color was hardly helpful when all I wanted to do was escape. But she obviously had her reasons. Possibly not great ones but who am I to question the motives of a goddess?

  As delightful as this new ability was, there was only so much experience to be had inside a cage. Hence, the reason I slept—more to pass the time than anything else. My slumber was disturbed by the sound of the hull grounding on a hard surface and then a long drawn out scraping as the ship was pulled up onto what was presumably a beach.

  My cage shook as it was roughly handled and lifted. There were several judders and shakes and then it was deposited on a hard surface once again. Movement resumed and my nose told me that there was at least one donkey involved, so I surmised that I was on a wagon.

  Shortly thereafter, the cage was lifted again and carried some distance. I heard doors being unlocked, opened, and shut. I was suddenly assaulted by a cacophony of smells and sounds. I smelt death and decay and heard the fearful cries of many animals in pain. What was this place?

  Too soon I discovered the truth. My cage was set down and the door opened. I bolted forward, desperate for freedom but was deceived. Freedom was but a mirage, insubstantial and unreal as the mist in the place where I had last met Athena.

  I found myself in another cage. This one was, thankfully, larger than the previous but that wasn’t saying much. I had room to stand but only just enough room to turn. On either side of me were more cages filled with snarling dogs, one in each c
age. Before me, on the other side of a dimly lit corridor awash in filth, were larger cages. Inside were shadowy shapes with an unfamiliar scent. I heard snarls and roars but I didn’t recognize them. Suddenly, Amycus was there, kneeling down before my cage again.

  “So, Argos. Enjoying your new accommodations? A little different from a nice comfortable blanket outside your masters room in Ithaca, eh?” Amycus grinned and nodded to himself, apparently pleased with his wit. I suspected he might be a little unhinged. All this to extract revenge on a dog? Really?

  If I thought he might be a little deranged, I swiftly changed that to a lot when he began to explain what was in store for me.

  “You are probably wondering where you are.” His eyes darted to the left and right. When he was sure we were alone, he leaned in conspiratorially. “You are on the island of Doulikhion. I work here now. It took some convincing but eventually King Meges took me on. Not in the same role I had on Ithaca, of course. That wasn’t possible after the debacle that took place but this role is in some ways superior to my last. King Meges returned from Troy over a year ago. He brought with him some strange animals and an unquenchable thirst to see even more. He wanted to see them … together. You see, I put on shows for the king now. You are probably wondering what sort of shows?”

  I sighed. Amycus wasn’t about to tell me something I hadn’t already guessed. Dogs can sigh you know. It’s just that sometimes they aren’t as obvious in dogs as they are in humans. If Amycus noticed, he gave no sign, his eyes feverish, lost in his own story.

  “There are fights, Argos. Fights! Fights the likes of which you have never seen before. Dogs fighting dogs, dogs fighting wild boar, dogs fighting bulls. And then there are the others.” He leaned even closer, whispering now, a revolting aroma of rancid milk wafting over me at his words. I felt like gagging but composed myself. If Amycus leaned in even further, I just might be able to tear his nose off. That would certainly surprise him! Just the thought of it made me salivate, which was in itself a little unsettling. The fact that I was becoming excited by the prospect of disfiguring this man was disturbing.

  “These other animals are magnificent. Some are huge. Some have claws and fangs that would dismember you or me in a blink of an eye. Just like that,” he said, snapping his fingers. “But,” he said, frowning, “we don’t get to use those animals very often. Meges likes to save them for a special occasion. Too rare, he tells me. No matter,” said Amycus, grinning again, “all in good time.” Disappointment surged through me as Amycus sat back safely out of my reach.

  “I have a feeling about you, Argos. It is not your fate to fall before any normal animal. That would be too good for you. Over too easily. I want this to last. My humiliation lasted years—I see no reason why I can’t drag your suffering out just as long.”

  He stood. With a last wink in my direction, he strode off into the gloom, leaving me alone save for the tens or possibly hundreds of other animals all growling, barking, howling, and snarling around me. I could think of better places to get a good night’s rest.

  Several days passed. Both my neighbors were removed from their cages, struggling and whimpering in fear. I heard the tell-tale sounds of a fight far above me. Human voices raised in cheers, some triumphant. There were roars of displeasure from members of the crowd, a squeal and then for a moment, silence. I knew the sound of death when I heard it.

  A new inhabitant was placed in one of the adjacent cages, a dog like me. The other one remained vacant. I kept waiting for my turn but it didn’t come. I was fed more filthy water and scraps of food that were fit only for the refuse pits. At first I refused to eat or drink but my baser instincts soon took over and I forced some down my throat, retching.

  Out of boredom, I gnawed at the bars of the cage but it was futile. The bars, like the ones on the cage that had transported me here, were thick wood. I suspected that my teeth would give out long before the cage.

  I thought about my home often. I wondered if my master Odysseus had returned. I pined for him more than I ever had these last ten years. Being in this place just exacerbated my loneliness. I had a forlorn hope that Odysseus would return to Ithaca and, finding me gone, would immediately embark on a rescue mission. I dreamt of Telemachus, crying in the darkness, filled with despair, wishing that his closest friend would return to him. I thought of what might become of him without me. What evil mischief Poseidon planned for him. What might be happening right now, without me to stop it? I wondered if Eumaeus would scour the island looking for me? What would he do when I was nowhere to be found? Would he search further afield? Brave a ship and the dreaded sea just for me?

  These thoughts occupied many of my waking hours but there were still many, many left to fill.

  Eventually, when Amycus came for me, I was almost relieved.

  Chapter Fourteen

  He was not alone this time. Two burly handlers stood on either side of him. Both of them were armed with some type of weapon that consisted of a long wooden handle attached to a loop of stout rope.

  “Be careful with this one,” said Amycus, grinning evilly, “he may be more dangerous than the others.”

  One of the handlers—a large hairy man with hair the color of fire—scoffed. “He’s impressive enough but certainly not the biggest I’ve seen. Nor the toughest. Looks a little underfed, to be honest.” He was right on all accounts. I’d seen larger dogs than me in my life. One of the dogs in the next cage was actually bigger. Toughest—well that was debatable. I don’t think any other dog in the place had taken on a Hades boar and survived. But as for underfed, that was undeniable.

  The other handler, a slightly shorter man with a belly big enough for three, laughed. “Not surprising there. Have you seen what we feed them? If I was a dog, I wouldn’t touch the stuff.”

  If he was a dog, I thought, I’d tear out his throat.

  Cautiously, the fat one opened the cage door. I toyed with the idea of bolting but knew that it was pointless. Even if I got past all three of them, I knew that there was a locked door at the end of the corridor. I had heard it being locked and unlocked. Even if I had hands, I had no key to use.

  My second option was to attack. I was fairly confident that I could kill one or two but not three, especially in my weakened state. They were armed after all. Had I been fully healthy and confident about the outcome, I would not have hesitated. Even then, it probably would’ve ended badly. My desire to kill Amycus was too great. In my efforts to tear him to shreds, the two handlers would be free to pummel me with their staves.

  In the end, I decided to accept my fate. Perhaps there would be opportunities to escape above? Although unused to fighting my own kind, I was determined to live and would do whatever was required.

  The fat one was surprised when I didn’t move as he threw the rope loop around my throat. He tightened it immediately and then, holding on to the wooden handle, dragged me unresisting out of the cage.

  “See?” said the one I decided to call Red. “Told you so.”

  Amycus was staring at me, his gaze calculating. “That was a bit too easy,” he said. “He’s up to something.”

  “Dogs aren’t that clever,” said Plump. “He’s not up to anything. Most of the fight’s gone out of him. That’s all.”

  “Well, it had better return by the time we get upstairs,” laughed Red. “Otherwise, he’s dead.”

  “We’ll see,” said Amycus slowly. “Yes. We will see.”

  Amycus led the way with Red, Plump, and myself trailing behind. Plump kept a firm grip on his handle but I never gave him any reason to tug on it. Despite this, he saw fit to kick me a couple of times when my pace wasn’t exactly what he wanted.

  At the end of the corridor, Amycus took a thick ring of keys off his belt and unlocked the bronze reinforced wooden door. Outside was a darkened staircase carved from rough blocks of stone, lit only by one flickering oil lamp. He led us up several flights before we came to another, similar door. The sounds of many human voices rose, washing over me in
a great wave as soon as Amycus opened the door. Beyond the door was a large chamber with only a few cages.

  Plump thrust me into one and secured the door behind me. I spun around and found myself staring out through wooden bars at a great open air amphitheater. Several hundred people gathered in the surrounding tiers, cheering.

  On the opposite side of the arena, I could see several cages identical to my own. The bars obscured their contents and the many unwashed bodies seated above me overwhelmed my senses. I had no idea what I was about to face.

  King Meges—still a huge bear of a man (if anything, a little fatter)—and his retinue sat within a covered dais opposite me. Next to him sat his odious son, Elatus. Since last we met, he had grown into full manhood but if that had improved him in any way, I could not see how.

  King Meges suddenly stood and the crowd immediately quieted.

  “People of Doulikhion, welcome. Today, you are in for a special treat. As you know, our neighbor, the great Odysseus, has not seen fit to return from our triumphant war with the Trojans. With him gone, Ithaca is no longer the power she once was. We need fear him no longer. Ithaca’s star is falling whilst ours is in ascension. To illustrate who the real king is, I sent a war party to Ithaca to take something precious from Odysseus. And what better prize than his most beloved dog? You must have heard of him. The dog that defeated a Hades-spawned boar the size of an ox. The dog that defeated the fastest dog I had ever bred. His name is Argos, the hound of Odysseus.”

  With that, the crowed reared up, cheering mightily. Meges let them enjoy their revelry for a few moments before silencing them with one upraised hand.

  “And now, for your pleasure, mighty Argos will fight.” He gestured toward one of the handlers beneath him. The cage door opposite me was yanked open and a huge, snarling black dog charged out. Froth dripped from its jaws.

  The crowd cheered again. Meges shouted them down. “This is Butal. Champion of his last twelve fights. Undefeated in battle. A worthy opponent, don’t you think?”