Homer’s Daughter (11 page)

I nodded. “And last night,” I suggested, “the southern gale caught you?”

“It did indeed. I heard huge seas pounding against the ironbound coast, and each time my mast rose on the crest of a wave, the line of surf, deadly white under the moon, seemed to creep nearer and nearer. I renewed my plea to Poseidon. But an enormous breaker, the mother and grandmother of all breakers, came rushing down, unshipped barrel and ladder and whirled them from me. Swept onwards into the surf, I abandoned my mast to grasp a protruding jag of rock and scramble ashore; however, the backwash dragged me away when I had already secured a handhold. I felt like a cuttlefish in the month of March, which the fisherman takes pitilessly by the neck and wrenches from its breeding hole in the cliff, with pebbles still clinging to its suckers. A great strip of skin was torn from my right palm—look!—but despite the smart I managed to battle my way out to sea once more, clear of the toothed rocks; searching, as I mounted each wave's crest, for a gap in the long deadly battle front of surf. At last I saw the very thing and swam towards it. The water seemed colder, as if this were the debouchment of a brook. With desperate strokes I reached the gap, and found myself in a calm, landlocked harbour. Not another yard could I have swum, though
dear life depended on it; but, sinking, I felt sand beneath my feet and stumbled forward in a daze, coughing and vomiting sea water. I reached that bank and crawled up it, inch by inch, until I came upon the thicket and there was a sheltered nook between an olive and an oleaster growing from the same stock. I scraped away the fallen leaves, lay down and heaped them over me again. Almost at once I slept, and have only just awakened.”

It is impolite to ask a suppliant for his name, clan or country until he has received the entertainment that the laws of hospitality require. “You are safe among us,” I assured him, “and shall be given food and drink without delay.”

He clutched my knees ecstatically, pouring out incoherent words of gratitude, and at last pleaded: “If I have said anything amiss, Goddess, may the north-easter whirl the offending words to perdition.”

The women gathered closer, and now that I had decided to take mercy on this stranger, ventured to utter cries of pity and encouragement.

He released my knees and, turning his head, said with a gallant attempt at a laugh: “Ladies, though valuing your kindness, and though tormented by hunger and thirst, I dare not offend your modesty. I feel sufficiently ashamed to expose my bare buttocks in so public a manner; to rise were worse. Perhaps that old sack yonder, which seems to have contained your laundry, would serve to cover my nakedness.”

Someone handed him the sack, and he discreetly wrapped it around his waist before rising.

“Girls,” I said briskly, “take this suppliant to the Springs for a wash, and choose him a cloak and tunic, of the better
ones. They are all dry. Also find the oil bottle and a scraper; and bring him back here when he is decently dressed.”

He made a point of asking them to retire while he bathed—which proved his delicacy of feeling—and when he appeared again, wearing one of my father's embroidered tunics, and a scarlet cloak which belonged to Laodamas, I thought I had never seen anyone so soldierly in my life, though his legs were a trifle short in proportion to his muscular body. But, of course, a man may be as handsome as a god and yet deceitful or muddleheaded.

We set a meal of roast beef, bread and wine before him—plenty had been left—and oh, how hungrily he tore at the beef with his strong white teeth, and how the wine gurgled down his smooth brown throat!

When he had done, I asked: “Who are you, my lord—for you must surely be of noble birth—and what is your country? To avoid any awkwardness, it would be well to let me know at once whether you have ever fallen foul of my people, the Elymans?”

“Fortunately, never,” he answered. “You and your well-trained women happen to be the first Elymans whom I have had the honour to meet. But I know you as the most westerly of civilized nations, and have heard of the great reputation for energy and good faith which you have consolidated among the maritime peoples of the world. I am a Cretan, and Aethon son of Castor is my name: a true Cretan from the far west, and a fugitive homicide. I killed a man in self-defence, a treacherous son of the King of Tarrha, and was sentenced to eight years' exile by the Council; seven of which I have now completed, wandering from country to country. May I, in turn, ask your name, benefactress?”

“I am Nausicaa,” I answered, “the only daughter of the Elyman King and Queen. My eldest brother, Laodamas, is feared lost at sea; and my father has recently sailed to Sandy Pylus, hoping for news of him there. Lord Mentor, my maternal uncle, is acting as Regent, and I have one grown brother at home, hardly more than a youth, named Clytoneus, and my little brother. Telegonus is still under the charge of women. Listen to me! If I protect you, this must be conditional on your obeying me implicitly throughout your stay here.”

“That goes without saying,” Aethon agreed. “You have saved my life, which is now yours to direct for as long as you deign to do so. What are my orders?”

I paused before answering, and he bent his head resignedly: somehow he knew that I had a difficult situation to face. “To begin with,” I said, “you must not come home with us, but follow at a prudent distance, keeping the cart in sight until we reach a fortified wall which runs across the neck of yonder headland. The town of Drepanum lies on the other side, between two harbours, and near the gates rises a Temple of Poseidon, facing a paved market place, with docks and shipyards on either hand, and an oar factory, marine stores, two rope walks, and a great deal of activity and gossip. It is this gossip that I want to avoid at all costs. Do not think that I am ashamed to be seen in your company, my lord Aethon, but my position is already extremely delicate. A number of young Elymans have asked my father for my hand but, to be frank, I entertain a strong dislike for the more influential of my suitors, yet have so far formed no attachment elsewhere. If I were to bring you into the town, the sensation caused by
such a sight would embarrass both you and me. Rope-maker would shout to net-mender: ‘Look, look! Who is that tall handsome stranger with the Princess Nausicaa? Where has she picked him up?' And then they would go on: ‘Have any of you ever seen him before? Either some god has descended from Olympus in answer to her prayer—everyone knows that she considers herself too good to marry a mere mortal—or, less improbably, she has rescued a shipwrecked sailor and lent him some of the clothes from that cartful, and is now taking him along to her mother and uncle. “This is my future husband,” she will announce. “I have just given him my carefully guarded maidenhead, for I love him with all my heart.” A fine trick to play in her father's absence, eh?' No, Aethon, do not blush, and neither will I. You must understand that this is how loutish minds work hereabouts. I hate them all. And please do not think that I approve of indiscreet behaviour. A young woman's reputation for chastity is of the utmost value to her, and I have always been at pains to keep mine irreproachable; moreover, if I am ever lucky enough to bear a daughter, she will have to do the same, or forfeit my love.”

Aethon smiled. “So be it, Princess,” he said. “Pray continue with your orders. Am I to lounge at the town gate, complaining that I have been clubbed on the head by robbers and forgotten everything about myself; so that I am obliged to wander in search of a friend who can tell me my name and city?”

“That is not a bad idea,” I answered, “but might have unwelcome complications. Some scoundrelly foreign captain might claim you as a runaway slave, and who could contradict him? Not you, certainly, if you deny that you remember even
your own name. No, listen: at a little distance from the town wall we shall pass through a poplar grove sacred to the Goddess Athene (whose priestess I am), growing in the middle of a park; you will find a well there, with a rope and an oaken bucket, and beyond it a patch of chick-peas and vetch. The park is crown property, and nobody would dare disturb anyone who went to pray in the grove. So wait by the well until you judge that we have reached the Palace, which stands near the point of the headland. Then go boldly to the guard at the gates and announce that you have a personal message for the Queen. Any little child will guide you to the Palace, because it is by far the largest and noblest building in the town. My grandfather used dressed stone; all the other houses, even the Temple of Poseidon, are wooden constructions with lath-and-plaster walls in Sican style. Enter the court of sacrifice as though you knew it of old, then cross the banqueting court and pass between the two red marble dogs into the throne chamber. These clothes are good enough to prevent any slaves from challenging you. My uncle, Lord Mentor, will doubtless be seated on the royal throne drinking wine. Bow your respects to him, but go straight up to my mother. Her tall ivory chair, with the footstool attached, stands against a pillar near the hearth, and she will be weaving sea-purple, or perhaps doing fine embroidery, a wheeled workbasket by her side. Clasp her knees, and speak as you have spoken to me. In her sympathy lies your best hope of success. I should be vexed if you were to fall into the clutches of the Town Council, not a very merciful body of men—unless my father is present to control them—and find yourself auctioned as a slave to the highest bidder.”

“To be auctioned is a fate that has never yet overtaken me. May Zeus grant that it never will. Benefactress, I shall do as you say, and may your patroness Athene favour me!”

This much being settled, I told my women to fold the linen neatly, lay it in the grass-strewn cart, and collect all our belongings—the ball had drifted across Rheithrum, and Glauce retrieved it at the outlet with a long branch of oleaster—after which Aethon helped us to catch and harness the mules. I mounted and cracked my whip; and off the cart bounced over the meadow until we struck the coast road again.

With a backward glance at Aethon, I thought: “What a singular day this has been, full of signs and wonders… Dear Mistress Athene, I thank you a thousand times for having listened to my prayer! Can Aethon be the man whom you intend me to marry? I am half in love with him already—but perhaps only because he is my own personal suppliant and trusts me… (So Laodamas loved the hound Argus, which used to fawn and cringe at his coming as though he were a god.) And have you sent him to rescue our house from disaster?”

Another strange event: both mules suddenly baulked, for no apparent reason, and though I flicked them with the whip, backed at least twenty paces and halted shivering. I told Auge to hold their heads while I climbed down and found out what had scared them. Nothing. The road lay empty, without even a white stone or a fluttering rag to frighten them—unless it were that filthy old goatskin wallet, abandoned in the ditch, which they mistook for a lurking dog.

I stood still awhile, my arms outstretched as if praying, much to the bewilderment of the women. Then I called them
together and said, kindly though severely: “Loyal servants, gentle playmates! The mules baulked at the sight of the Goddess Athene, who appeared shining by the roadside, visible only to her priestess. She addressed me in oracular verse, of which this is the substance: ‘Princess Nausicaa, if one of your women blurts a single word to her family, or to friends, or to acquaintances, about the Cretan champion whom I have sent you in your need, I will blind that slut and cover her upper lip with thick black hair! And now, child, you may inform the stranger that I have cancelled your instructions: he is not to advance another step towards your well-built town of Drepanum, but must turn inland while it is yet light and follow the road which skirts the town of Eryx and winds up the mountain from the east. He will find your father's swineherd at the Raven Rock among the esculent oaks, where great herds of hogs are fattening; and I have ordained that honest servant to protect him. Let Aethon place himself under Eumaeus's care and lodge at his homestead until you send him whatever message I may put into your mouth. But first he must take off those glorious clothes, which the Queen will instantly recognize as palace property and conclude to have been either stolen or bestowed on him as a love gift. Then he must daub his handsome body with cow filth and wrap around him the old sack for which, at my prompting, he pleaded; nor must he reveal his name or country to any of the swineherds. It is as a nameless, unkempt beggar that I shall bring him to the Palace of the Elyman kings.'”

Aethon seemed puzzled by this sudden divine command, but accepted it unquestioningly. I then instructed him how to reach Raven Rock, advising him to cut himself a stout staff
as a defence against Eumaeus's savage mastiffs, and to take up the discarded wallet; into which we thrust a few crusts of bread and parings of cheese, and the scrag end of our leg of mutton, so that he now looked a real beggar.

Nobody else witnessed this transformation, and soon a villainous ruffian was toiling through our willow grove, staff in hand, waving good-bye to us. I disliked having to send Aethon on that long climb in his weakened condition, but he was young and bold, with good food in his belly, and I had to play for safety. If Eurymachus and his companions found out that he was an exiled Cretan nobleman, a homicide too, who would stop at nothing to show himself deserving of my protection, his life would be worth little. “It will be far better,” I thought, “to hold him in reserve as an unsuspected ally.” And my women could be trusted. They believed me to have occult powers, as one who was in constant treaty with the Blessed Gods. None of them would risk blindness and a thick moustache by blabbing.

I patted and made much of the mules until they started again; and kept them going smartly, but not too fast for my women. After skirting the Grove of Athene we were admitted into the town by the gate watch. Our progress through the docks excited no great interest; and at last I pulled up outside the Palace, clapped my hands for a groom, and ran indoors to enquire what had happened during the day.