you.’
‘Did you bring any wine?’ Eperitus replied. ‘I’m as thirsty as a hunted deer.’
‘I’ve some water,’ Arceisius said, slipping a leather bag from his shoulder and tossing it towards his master. ‘You were missed down there. Odysseus was asking everyone if they’d seen you.’
‘I thought he needed some time with his new family.’
‘Is that all, sir?’ Arceisius asked. Though young, he was not blind to his master’s anguish.
Eperitus stood and looked down at the wine-dark sea, washing the jagged skirts of the mountain far below with its ceaseless rocking.
‘No, Arceisius. No, it’s not. I’m thinking of leaving Ithaca.’
‘But Ithaca’s your home.’
‘Ithaca’s my prison,’ Eperitus retorted, instantly regretting his sharp tone. ‘I’m sorry, Arceisius. It’s just that, suddenly, everything’s changing, as if I’m being reminded that my destiny lies beyond Ithaca. I’ve been thinking of my father for some time, wanting to wipe away the shame of what he did. Then there was the fight this morning. It was the first time I’ve killed a man in ten years, and I enjoyed it – not the killing, as such, but the thrill of danger and the pride of victory. It woke something inside me, a yearning for glory that’s been dormant for too long, and a need to prove myself.’
‘But you have proved yourself,’ Arceisius protested. ‘If it wasn’t for you Ithaca would be ruled by Taphians.’
Eperitus shook his head. ‘I’m still a warrior, Arceisius – Odysseus reminded me of that on the ship, and it was he who said Ithaca is a prison to me. But do you know what it was that made me decide to leave? The sight of that baby in Odysseus’s arms. After all, a man needs a sense of his own eternity, something that will carry his memory beyond death. Telemachus will give that to Odysseus. But it made me realize that I’m slipping into obscurity. I need to get back out into the world and make a name for myself in battle – that’s all I ever dreamed of when I was your age.’
The wind, which had been constant since Eperitus had reached the top of Mount Neriton, whipped at their cloaks and hair, bringing to them the sounds of the sea crashing against the rocks far below. The chariot of the sun had disappeared and in the cool of the evening they saw the first stars shining in the deep blue skies above.
‘And now there’s talk of war in the east,’ Eperitus continued. ‘A great war between Troy and the whole of Greece. Odysseus knows about it and is determined not to be drawn in. But for the likes of me – and you, if you’re willing, Arceisius – it’s an opportunity to become what we were always meant to be: warriors, killing and dying for the sake of glory.’
The squire took the skin from his master’s hand and swallowed a mouthful of water. For a long time they watched the Peloponnese fade and the sea grow darker, then Arceisius broke the thought-filled silence.
‘Let’s go back, while we can still find our footing.’
‘I’m leaving for the mainland,’ Eperitus said. ‘Once Telemachus has been dedicated to the gods I intend to ask Odysseus to release me from my oath. If he does, I will go to Mycenae and join the army of King Agamemnon.’
Then I’ll come with you, sir,’ Arceisius replied. ‘It felt strange killing that man this morning, but I know now it was only because I’d crossed a threshold into a new world. I’m a warrior now, and I don’t think I’ll ever find happiness on Ithaca again.’
Menelaus sat on his raised throne and eyed the Trojan prince with stern formality.
‘Well, Paris, son of Priam, I’m told you want to see me as a matter of urgency. What is it you wish to discuss?’
A broad column of light plunged like a waterfall from a vent in the high ceiling of the great hall, illuminating the Spartan king as he waited for a response. Paris stood stiffly before him, with Apheidas and Aeneas on either side. The low flames of the hearth
‘Did you bring any wine?’ Eperitus replied. ‘I’m as thirsty as a hunted deer.’
‘I’ve some water,’ Arceisius said, slipping a leather bag from his shoulder and tossing it towards his master. ‘You were missed down there. Odysseus was asking everyone if they’d seen you.’
‘I thought he needed some time with his new family.’
‘Is that all, sir?’ Arceisius asked. Though young, he was not blind to his master’s anguish.
Eperitus stood and looked down at the wine-dark sea, washing the jagged skirts of the mountain far below with its ceaseless rocking.
‘No, Arceisius. No, it’s not. I’m thinking of leaving Ithaca.’
‘But Ithaca’s your home.’
‘Ithaca’s my prison,’ Eperitus retorted, instantly regretting his sharp tone. ‘I’m sorry, Arceisius. It’s just that, suddenly, everything’s changing, as if I’m being reminded that my destiny lies beyond Ithaca. I’ve been thinking of my father for some time, wanting to wipe away the shame of what he did. Then there was the fight this morning. It was the first time I’ve killed a man in ten years, and I enjoyed it – not the killing, as such, but the thrill of danger and the pride of victory. It woke something inside me, a yearning for glory that’s been dormant for too long, and a need to prove myself.’
‘But you have proved yourself,’ Arceisius protested. ‘If it wasn’t for you Ithaca would be ruled by Taphians.’
Eperitus shook his head. ‘I’m still a warrior, Arceisius – Odysseus reminded me of that on the ship, and it was he who said Ithaca is a prison to me. But do you know what it was that made me decide to leave? The sight of that baby in Odysseus’s arms. After all, a man needs a sense of his own eternity, something that will carry his memory beyond death. Telemachus will give that to Odysseus. But it made me realize that I’m slipping into obscurity. I need to get back out into the world and make a name for myself in battle – that’s all I ever dreamed of when I was your age.’
The wind, which had been constant since Eperitus had reached the top of Mount Neriton, whipped at their cloaks and hair, bringing to them the sounds of the sea crashing against the rocks far below. The chariot of the sun had disappeared and in the cool of the evening they saw the first stars shining in the deep blue skies above.
‘And now there’s talk of war in the east,’ Eperitus continued. ‘A great war between Troy and the whole of Greece. Odysseus knows about it and is determined not to be drawn in. But for the likes of me – and you, if you’re willing, Arceisius – it’s an opportunity to become what we were always meant to be: warriors, killing and dying for the sake of glory.’
The squire took the skin from his master’s hand and swallowed a mouthful of water. For a long time they watched the Peloponnese fade and the sea grow darker, then Arceisius broke the thought-filled silence.
‘Let’s go back, while we can still find our footing.’
‘I’m leaving for the mainland,’ Eperitus said. ‘Once Telemachus has been dedicated to the gods I intend to ask Odysseus to release me from my oath. If he does, I will go to Mycenae and join the army of King Agamemnon.’
Then I’ll come with you, sir,’ Arceisius replied. ‘It felt strange killing that man this morning, but I know now it was only because I’d crossed a threshold into a new world. I’m a warrior now, and I don’t think I’ll ever find happiness on Ithaca again.’
Menelaus sat on his raised throne and eyed the Trojan prince with stern formality.
‘Well, Paris, son of Priam, I’m told you want to see me as a matter of urgency. What is it you wish to discuss?’
A broad column of light plunged like a waterfall from a vent in the high ceiling of the great hall, illuminating the Spartan king as he waited for a response. Paris stood stiffly before him, with Apheidas and Aeneas on either side. The low flames of the hearth
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