The Girl From Ithaca (27 page)

“Sorry, Lord Phoebus,” Io whispered and then hurried to me. “I’ve only a moment to spare. Calchus and Agamemnon are keeping me and Ceto busy all evening. They’re terrible tonight.”

She handed Ellissa a basket of food as I closed the door behind her. “I tried to get as much as I could from Agamemnon’s private store. Dates and … ”

She stopped abruptly when she saw Odysseus, her face paling. “Remember my warning. Please.”

I hugged her and forced myself to say goodnight, before she dashed away to serve Agamemnon’s wine. My heart pounding now, I found the grey cloak I used as a spare, wishing I had Penelope’s.

“You could tell Agenor you’ve changed your mind,” Ellissa said suddenly.

“I have to find Oenone.”

Ellissa sighed and then waved her hands in defeat. “All right. We do it your way, but you may as well take good food with you. I don’t want hunger to add to your burden.” She wrapped Io’s cheese and dates in a large cloth and added her own wheat cakes. “Stable boys always eat a lot,” she explained, packing it into the basket again. “And make sure you have some yourself.”

I glanced outside. There was no sign of Agenor, but Phoebus had just returned.

“Your message is delivered and all is arranged,” he said. “When Agenor returns, I will leave for Agamemnon’s meeting. Of course, I know nothing of what happens here, except I instructed Agenor to guard you while I was away.”

I stared at him.”You know don’t you? You’ve been listening.”

“You might say I’m a little like your young friend, Io. I won’t be revealing what I’ve heard, even to Antilochus or Medon. I agree with Ellissa, they would prevent you from leaving.” Phoebus took a deep breath. “However, your mission to Mount Ida is probably your brother’s best chance and a woman is needed to persuade the water nymph to help. I can think of no woman more persuasive than you.”

Two Ithacan bowmen walked past, looking our way once or twice, but avoiding eye contact. We heard them shout for Medon and saw Medon’s torch as he stood outside his tent. I fidgeted with my cloak. Most men had retired to their shelters and there was loud singing from one. It would be an ideal time to slip away, if only those bowmen would hurry up with their report.

At last they left and Medon stepped into his tent. Phoebus spoke with more urgency now. “All I can give you are a few words of advice. The marshes between the trees and the river are lethal. When you head from camp, keep to the paths on the right, where the ground is firmer. The river is high tonight, so don’t attempt to cross until you reach the spot where the bridge once stood. The stable boy will know what to do. Trojans don’t venture out on the plains at night, but keep on moving, you must get to the foothills before first light.”

I nodded, trembling now.

Phoebus cleared his throat. “There’s nothing more I can help you with, except there’s talk of Oenone staying near the rock pools. Perhaps she’ll take pity on you, but remember, it’s better you return without the remedy, than you never return at all.” He got to his feet. “Travel well, Lady Neomene.”

I crept into the hut and knelt by my brother’s bed. I pushed his wet hair from his forehead. He was hot. He was as hot as fire. “I’ll be back in two days. You’d better make sure you last that long or … or I’ll send Euryclea to drag you back from Hades. Believe me, Odysseus, she will do it and she won’t be happy.”

Ellissa’s hands shook as she rearranged my cloak, treating me like a young child as she pulled the woollen fabric up to my chin. Then the light tap at the door set my heart racing. If I stayed with King Nestor, I could be with Antilochus. Ellissa would be with her friend, Gala. I didn’t have to go.

Agenor stepped inside and the moment passed. I pointed to the ash spear in the corner. He picked it up, felt its weight and nodded.

Ellissa handed me two leather wine bags and the basket of food. Our eyes met but neither of us spoke. Then I turned away and followed Agenor into the night.

Chapter TWENTY-FOUR

To the Mountain

A
genor flicked the reins and the horses trotted through the sleeping camp. There was torchlight at the boundary gate and the guard held up his torch to see us more clearly. The light fell onto the man’s shield and I snatched a glimpse of the flying horse embossed on its centre. He was one of Diomedes’ men.

“I’ve been ordered to open the gate for you,” the sentry declared, stepping towards the chariot. “Lord Diomedes says that on your return, Ithaca owes him a fine jar of wine. That’s what it took to bribe Ajax’s men.” Then he handed a sword to Agenor. “And take care, stable boy. Trojans and wild dogs lurk around the plain, looking for Greeks to kill. Lord Diomedes lends you this.”

A second guard drew back the gate and then we were through, out into a wilderness that was the no man’s land between the Greek camp and the city of Troy. Agenor urged the sturdy horses into a trot and we swept along the track into a thicket of trees and then out into the path by the marshes.

“They’re sister and brother, these two,” Agenor explained, telling me about the horses. “They work well together. They’re not fast, but they’re tough and can keep at this steady trot all night. Don’t worry, we’ll get you to Mount Ida by sunrise.”

Watching for the crossing point, I pointed out the dim shape of a broken wooden stake. “This is the best place. See, the remains of the bridge.”

Agenor pulled up the horses and he tipped his head, listening to the roar of the river. “Sounds like a difficult crossing. I’ll take a closer look.”

He vaulted from the chariot and disappeared down the bank. The stallion tossed his head, impatient with the delay. I gripped the reins. “Steady, you’ll be glad of a rest soon enough.”

“We can cross here,” Agenor called, appearing again from the darkness. “The horses are used to the river, but we’ll need to take firm hold of them with the water so high. You take Jewel, she’ll be calmer than her brother.”

Agenor guided us down the bank, through the grass and the nettles and into the icy water. Both horses whinnied at the shock of the cold. Jewel and I shivered as we struggled against the force of the river. Agenor talked gently to Star and firmly pulled him across. Still harnessed to her brother, Jewel kept pace and dragged me with her. Gasping for breath, we scrambled through the reeds and then out of the water into the tangle of nettles on the opposite bank.

“Build up a few rocks here, as a marker,” Agenor directed. “I’ll see to the horses.”

A bitter wind bit through my wet clothing as I fumbled for stones. Now on the other side of the river, we were in the open. Glancing across the great plain, I saw Trojan lights shining from the watchtowers, like eyes staring directly at us. I shivered. They might have spotted us already.

Agenor urged the horses into a trot and they kept the steady pace through the long night. Eventually, the pounding of the hooves and the roll of the chariot made me drowsy. I leant against the side for support.

“It’ll be getting lighter soon,” Agenor encouraged me. “When we reach the foothills, I’ll need to check the horses, so you can rest a little.”

I nodded thankfully. I think it was to keep me awake that he started talking about Ithaca.

“Your old nurse, what was her name?” he said.

“Euryclea.”

“Yes, we called her the old hen because she clucked around you and your sister so much. How could you stand it? She used to chase us boys away if ever we got too close.” And then he gave such a perfect imitation of Euryclea, I could have believed she was there standing next to me.

He managed to make me laugh, talking about the people we both knew and his work in the palace stables. He helped me forget about the cold and the weariness, at least for a little while, and as the first light of day filtered through the darkness, the huge shape of Mount Ida loomed before us and we knew we were nearly there.

By dawn we’d reached the foothills of the mountain. Agenor draw up the horses and let them graze, while we ate half of the cheese and wheat cakes from our basket.

“I’ll check Star and Jewel; you stay here and rest awhile,” the stable boy said.

I leant against a rock to rest and tried to plan my words for Oenone. My eyes closed.

Agenor patted my shoulder. I blinked and looked at the sky. The sun was free from the horizon and it was almost fully light. “I’m sorry, have we lost much time?” I cried.

He shook his head. “No, I’ve only let you sleep while the horses recovered and I had a few more of Ellissa’s cakes.”

I must have been sleeping longer than that. The horses were more than ready; the little stallion pawing the ground and keen to be moving again. But Agenor was smiling and relaxed. We had plenty of time to find Oenone. Squinting in the early morning sun, we scanned ahead for sight of the path into the mountain.

“Found it,” Agenor cried. “Come on, it’s not far now.”

The refreshed horses trotted briskly along the track, as it stretched to the east and then swept back through a pine forest.

It was dark amongst the pines and impossible to see beyond the first line of trees. My heart jumped at the sudden screech of an owl as it flew in front of the chariot and landed on a branch overhanging the track.

“Probably late home from its night’s hunting,” Agenor said.

Once through the forest, we rode through grass and wild flowers. A sparrow pecked at the ground, searching for seeds. Butterflies bathed in the warmth of the sun. It seemed a golden place after the gloom of the forest. Resisting the temptation to linger, we carried on until the path became stonier and steeper. Then the cliff face blocked our way.

Agenor drew in the reins and we craned our necks to see the top.

“I must do this last part alone and meet Oenone without you,” I explained. “Even Phoebus thinks this part must be done by a woman.”

“But how can you climb up there on your own?”

“Because I’m from Ithaca, remember? I’ve been climbing cliffs since I was small. Mother used to disapprove, but Odysseus encouraged me. Perhaps he knew I’d need to do this for him one day.” I took a long drink of the sweet wine. “You take your rest now. If I’m not back by nightfall, you come looking for me.”

Agenor nodded reluctantly and I set off up the slope. I needed to hurry, but my progress was slow. My well-worn sandals gave little grip and I slipped several times as I edged up the rock face. Roughly half way, I rested for a moment and then climbed upwards again.

When I reached for the next ledge and touched grass, I knew I was almost there. I pulled myself up and peered over the edge. It was a plateau with trees and several pools, just as Phoebus had described it. Scrambling onto the level ground, I turned to look for Agenor. The small figure in the distance waved at me.

It was quiet and still on the plateau, the only movement being the fluttering of leaves as a light breeze blew through the trees. Cautiously, I approached the first rock pool. Kneeling down, I gazed into the water. It was only my reflection that stared back at me; there was no sign of Oenone.

I searched by the next three pools and then made my way through a small wood. Through the trees I saw a glittering of sunlight and ran forward, desperate to find her, but at the same time terrified.

She was sitting beside the pool, her long legs dipping into the water. I hoped she’d look up and see me, but as the moments dragged on, I was forced to call out.

“Oenone?”

She didn’t move.

“Oenone?” I cried.

She started. “Who are you?”

I wanted to lie. I knew that as a Greek I would not be welcome, but she was intelligent, perceptive. I had to tell the truth.

“Neomene, from Ithaca.”

“A Greek,” she said, surprise and a hint of distaste showing in her voice. Then she rose and swept towards me. “You come alone?”

“There’s a stable boy with horses waiting for me. Otherwise, I am on my own.”

She stared into my eyes, her own green eyes seeming so deep they threatened to drown me.

“The gods visit this mountain, do you know that?”

“I’ve heard so, yes.”

“Are you not scared? Of what the gods might do and of the mountain?”

“Yes, but I have come for your help,” I said. “Machaon, our healer, says my brother is dying. I’ve heard of your skills and so I’ve come to you as the only one who can save him.”

Oenone laughed. “Save a Greek? It is the Greek witch, Helen of Sparta, who stole Paris from me. Why should I help a Greek?”

“Because we want the same thing.”

“How so?” she cried, scornful.

“We want Helen to go back to Sparta. My brother and I have been away from our home for almost three years because of this war. We can only go back when Helen is given to Menelaus, and only then will Paris be able to return to you.”

Oenone slipped back to the side of her pool and with a long pale finger, beckoned me to her. “Sit here so I can study your face. I want to see if you speak the truth.”

I sat down near the pool.

“You claim you’re from Ithaca. Why should I believe you?” she said.