Odysseus folded his arms and scratched his chin while focusing intently on Agamemnon's right ear. 'A new enemy, you say? Committing crimes against Greece?'

'Yes.'

'And you want my help?'

'If you think you're well enough,' Menelaus added.

'Never felt better, sir. But you'll need an army! Every king from every city in the land must dust off his spear and shield ornaments for too long and call their subjects to arms.'

'Yes, yes exactly,' Agamemnon enthused. 'I knew you'd be the first to understand, Odysseus. How many men can you bring, and how quickly?'

Odysseus's eyes lit up with a sudden fervour. He opened the mouth of his satchel and showed the salt to Agamemnon. 'Thousands! Tens of thousands. But not until harvest time.'

'Harvest!' Agamemnon cried. 'But that's over half a year away.'

Odysseus looked at him as if he had gone mad. 'Even you G.o.ds can't hurry nature, my lord. I've only just sown them,' he added, indicating the ploughed field with a sweep of his arm. 'They won't be full grown warriors until the late autumn. Why, they won't even be boys for at least two months.'

'By the name of every G.o.d on Olympus,' said Menelaus, storming past his brother and seizing Odysseus by the shoulders. 'Odysseus, I don't know if there's any part of the old you left in there, but you must listen to me. This is no joke it's important, urgent! We I need every bit of your fighting skill and your cunning. I'm at my wits' end, Odysseus! It's Helen. She's been kidnapped and taken to Troy.' Tears rolled down the king's cheeks and fell in large droplets to the ground. 'Being without her is destroying me. Unless you can shake off this madness and help my brother and me get her back, then I'll be the one ploughing with an ox and an a.s.s and throwing salt in the furrows.'

Odysseus looked at him for a long time, during which n.o.body spoke. Eventually, his eyes turned away to rest on Penelope.

'I know what it's like to love someone so much that you can't bear to be apart from them. For that reason, Poseidon, I shall tend and water these crops every day until they're ready. You'll have your army by the summer, even if they're only lads. And I'll get back to the plough this instant there are thousands more warriors in this bag and I need to get them sown before evening.'

He patted Menelaus's arm sympathetically before sprinting as fast as his short legs would carry his ungainly bulk towards the waiting plough. As he reached the top of the ridge, he slipped the leather harness over his shoulders and picked up a long stick, which he applied to the backs of the two animals. The a.s.s brayed angrily and immediately struggled against the yoke, whilst its slower companion took three more cracks of the stick and several shouts of 'Hah! Hah!' before it would agree to move. Though unhurried in its movements, its solid bulk prevented the a.s.s from pulling away, and before long the plough was being dragged back down the slope with only Odysseus's great strength keeping it straight. Every now and then he reached into his satchel and tossed a handful of salt over his shoulder.

'By all the G.o.ds,' Palamedes said suddenly, snapping his fingers. 'Was one of the cleverest men in Greece, you say Menelaus? I think he still is; but he doesn't fool me, and I'm going to prove he's not mad.'

As the plough came nearer, they could hear Odysseus singing a popular farming song, the words of which he had twisted to a martial theme.

'I sows 'em when it's frosty, The ground as hard as bronze, I waters 'em when it's sunny, My beautiful warrior sons.

I reaps 'em in the summer, 'Cos foreign wars demand, Then sends 'em in the autumn, To die on foreign land.'

Suddenly, Palamedes turned to Penelope and s.n.a.t.c.hed the baby from her arms. Rushing across the field, he laid the child before the oncoming hooves of the ox and a.s.s, with the iron blade of the plough following behind. Telemachus, hearing the cries of his mother (who Agamemnon had seized and was holding fast), began to scream and kick. Odysseus threw his weight to the right and at the last possible moment steered the team past his son, the hooves of the ox trampling the ground beside his head. In an instant he had thrown off the harness and, abandoning the plough, picked up Telemachus to hold him in the protection of his arms.

Agamemnon released Penelope, who ran over and received the bundle from her husband. Odysseus then rushed at Palamedes with a terrible fire in his eyes, his insanity forgotten. Palamedes was so pleased with his own cleverness, he only realized his danger when Odysseus's fist came swinging into the side of his skull. He stumbled backwards and fell into the ploughed soil.

As soon as Menelaus realized that Odysseus's madness was feigned, he felt his own anger take hold of him and with a growl slid his sword from its scabbard. Eperitus, Arceisius and Eurybates, who had been watching the events from beneath the olive tree, drew their own swords and ran to protect their king.

'Menelaus!' Agamemnon shouted. The authority in his voice was so compelling that even Eperitus and Arceisius stopped and looked at the Mycenaean king. 'Brother, put your sword away. Odysseus was only doing what he had to do for the sake of his family.'

Menelaus looked at his older brother and realized in a moment that he was speaking the truth. The anger drained from him and he slid his sword back into its scabbard.

'Now then, Odysseus,' Agamemnon continued. 'My patience is at its end, so let's have no more of this charade. Palamedes has outfoxed you, and you'll just have to accept it. We're forming an expedition of Greek kings to rescue Helen, so give us your answer: will you come with us to Troy?'

'Why should he?' Penelope interjected. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes dark with anger as she clutched Telemachus to her chest. 'He's not beholden to you, Agamemnon. He's a king in his own right, and now he's a father. Although I have every sympathy for you, Menelaus Helen is my cousin and this news is like a dagger in my heart you've no right to ask a man to leave his family and go to war on the other side of the world. Odysseus has every reason to stay on Ithaca, and every reason not to go on this expedition of yours.'

'But Menelaus does have the right to ask Odysseus to come to Troy,' Palamedes said, propping himself up on one elbow and rubbing his reddened cheek. 'To demand that he comes, even. Isn't that so, Odysseus?'

The Ithacan king placed his arm about his wife's waist and kissed her on the cheek. He looked at the baby in her arms and touched the tip of his nose with his nail-bitten finger, smiling as the sight of his child momentarily eclipsed the troubles that were about to overtake him. Then, with a sigh, he turned to Penelope and looked her in the eye.

'My love, he's right. Ten years ago, those of us who wanted to marry Helen were made to take a secret pledge. Her father was so terrified her looks would cause a fight, I helped him out by suggesting a sacred oath.'

'What oath, Odysseus?'

'To protect the successful suitor and come to his aid if anyone threatened their marriage.'

Penelope looked away. 'And as Menelaus was the successful suitor, you're honour-bound to help him.'

'I never dreamed my own ruse would come back to bite me,' Odysseus said softly, stroking his wife's hair. 'But the moment I recognized Agamemnon's sail I instinctively knew it had. If it was only a matter of honour, I wouldn't care. But it's not. It was an oath sworn before all the G.o.ds, and if I refuse Menelaus's request I'll be a cursed man; the immortals will make my life a misery, and yours too. My only hope was to feign madness so Menelaus wouldn't call on me to honour my word, but I failed.'

'I understand, Odysseus, and I don't blame you for suggesting or taking this oath. But if the Trojans refuse to return Helen to Menelaus then it'll mean war. You could be killed, and then Telemachus would grow up without ever having known his father.'

'He won't,' Eperitus said. 'Not if we can prevent it.'

'And what can you do?' Penelope asked, looking at Eperitus and his squire with scornful anger. 'Aren't you and Arceisius deserting him to go and make names for yourselves?'

Eperitus felt the sting of her words, but gave her the most rea.s.suring smile he could muster. 'We still intend to leave Ithaca in search of glory, my lady. But it looks as if Troy's going to be the place to find it, so we'll go there at Odysseus's side.'

'Besides,' said the king, looking pleased as he slapped Eperitus and Arceisius on the shoulders, 'I've no intention of releasing either of these rogues from my service. They need somebody responsible to keep them out of trouble.'

'That's the spirit I'm looking for,' Agamemnon interrupted. 'Eperitus, isn't it?'

'Yes, my lord,' Eperitus answered, as Odysseus hooked a hand around Arceisius's elbow and led him away. The last time Eperitus had seen Agamemnon was ten years before in Sparta, when the Mycenaean king was among a group of n.o.bles who had sentenced him to death for a.s.saulting Penelope in her bedroom.

'I'm glad to see you escaped execution,' Agamemnon continued. 'Especially as Odysseus was the one in Penelope's room that night.'

'We worked that out for ourselves in the end,' Menelaus said, putting a friendly arm about Eperitus's shoulder. 'And when we realized you'd offered your own life to save Odysseus's, Eperitus, the shame that had been attached to your name was wiped away and replaced with honour. Don't you agree, brother?'

Agamemnon turned his gaze on Eperitus and scrutinized the lowly warrior with his cold, pa.s.sionless eyes for a long moment. Then the king's face broke with a smile that was surprisingly warm and inviting as he took Eperitus's hand.

'Men of your quality are hard to come by,' he announced. 'With the likes of you and Odysseus with us at Troy, Priam will soon learn that his days are numbered. And I can tell you, as sure as any oracle, the honour you've already earned will be nothing compared with what the G.o.ds will heap on you in Ilium. I'll be proud to have you at my side.'

Odysseus, who was busy unyoking the a.s.s with Arceisius and Eurybates, looked over his shoulder at these words.

'We don't know there'll even be a war yet, Agamemnon. The Trojans might still be persuaded to return Helen unharmed, which will save us all a lot of time and effort, not to mention further heartache for Menelaus.'

'Satisfying my heartache is one thing,' Menelaus growled. 'Satisfying my anger will be quite a different matter altogether.'

Odysseus left the animal in Eurybates's care. 'That may be so, Menelaus,' he said, 'but wars need fleets and armies, and the time and wealth to bring them together. If you want Helen back, a peaceful solution is quickest and best. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. I suggest we return to the palace, enjoy a few kraters of wine and a roast hog, and discuss what needs to be done.'

book TWO.

Chapter Ten.

LEAVING ITHACA.

The great hall was filled with conversation as the men seated around the burning hearth discussed the events of recent days. Only Eperitus remained silent, lost in thoughts and memories as his gaze wandered about the high-ceilinged chamber for what he mused might be the last time. He looked at the bright, active murals that ran the circuit of the lime-washed walls and recalled a time when the hall had been a dark and decrepit place, the plaster peeling away and the old frescoes lost beneath layers of smoke and grime. Odysseus had changed that. The walls had been replastered and new murals painted. These were kept clean by an army of slaves, and as Eperitus looked at them now they were almost as vivid and colourful as they had been when they were first laid down nine years before.

Most depicted wars of legend between the G.o.ds and the giants on the north wall, the centaurs and lapiths on the west wall, and the G.o.ds and the t.i.tans on the south wall. On the east wall, however, was the battle for the liberation of Ithaca. It was a celebration of Ithaca's recent history and the achievements of its king, and for that reason was filled with careful detail. Even Eperitus was shown, leading the attack on the walls or so he was told, as each figure looked the same to his eyes while Odysseus was at the centre, an oversized figure fighting the Taphians inside the palace.

Eperitus, though quietly satisfied that his part in the battle had been so generously recognized, nevertheless felt embarra.s.sed by the mural. His bullying and critical father had never allowed him to develop anything other than a modest image of his own value, and the resulting humility was unusual for a warrior. Ironically, it was also the fuel that fed his desire to prove himself.

He turned his eyes from the mural to the numerous alcoves in the walls, which housed clay statuettes of the different G.o.ds. They bore a variety of tokens and symbols that distinguished them from each other: Zeus held a thunderbolt, Poseidon his trident and Apollo his lyre; Hermes had his winged sandals and carried the caduceus, while Hephaistos, the smith-G.o.d, held aloft his hammer as if ready to strike; Ares and Athena were both armed with helmet, shield and spear, and Artemis the huntress had her bow and quiver; the flowering branch of a chaste tree was held by Hestia, and a head of corn by Demeter; the naked figure of Aphrodite held a dove in both hands, and finally Hera, the wife of Zeus, was depicted offering an apple. Eperitus felt as if their stern eyes were fixed on him in judgement and turned his face up to the pine-beamed ceiling, where a deep-blue firmament was filled with celestial bodies, clearly picked out in gold and silver as they circled the vent in the centre. Even the crimson of the four soaring pillars that supported the roof was hardly dimmed by the trail of smoke that filtered slowly upwards from the hearth.

An increase in the clamour of voices brought Eperitus's gaze back down to the other members of the Kerosia, the council of the king's advisers. Opposite him was Eupeithes, the former traitor who had been placated with the position of counsellor for trade. He was a fat man with thin, dangling limbs that made him look like a beetle. His ageing head was completely bald, but for a wisp of grey hair above each ear, and his skin was pale and covered with moles. Though defeated and pardoned by Odysseus, his face showed little humility; instead he wore the arrogant, self-a.s.sured look of a wealthy man who felt his opinion was superior to all others.

He was holding a discussion with Eurylochus, who Odysseus had made a member of the Kerosia to placate him after Eperitus was given the captaincy of the royal guard. In Eperitus's opinion, Eurylochus was a fool and his worthless contributions were a waste of the council's time, but the king always gave the impression that he valued his cousin's viewpoint.

On Eurylochus's right was the oldest member of the Kerosia, Phronius, a figure so bent with age that the carved back of his chair was visible as he leaned forward on his stick. Next to him was Halitherses, who had been captain of the guard for many years during Laertes's reign. The wounds he received fighting the Taphians had forced him to resign the post, though he remained a tall, heavily built figure with an imposing presence. Between him and Eperitus sat Mentor, Odysseus's boyhood friend who had lost his left hand to a Taphian sword.

Other than the king and Laertes, only one other member of the council was missing: Penelope. When Eperitus had first attended an Ithacan Kerosia ten years before, he had been shocked that Anticleia, Odysseus's mother, had been allowed to partake in the debate. It was strange in the extreme for a woman to discuss politics with men, but Eperitus had soon learned that Ithaca was a kingdom of strange customs and ideas. So when Odysseus succeeded his father as king he was not surprised that Penelope took Anticleia's place on the council, where her abundant wisdom quickly made its mark. But there were traditionalists on Ithaca, too: as a mother Penelope was now expected to turn her attentions from politics to Telemachus, the future king. Ever wise to the opinions of her subjects, she had temporarily excused herself from attending the Kerosia, much to Eperitus's disappointment.

Phronius, Mentor and Halitherses were having a heated discussion about the number of men they could afford to send to Troy, and how many should be left behind for the defence of the island.

'Over two thousand men answered the call to arms,' Mentor said, 'of which the king's taking eight hundred.'

'And they're all fools,' Phronius croaked, the feathery white strands of his moustache puffing out as he spoke. 'This ain't no local sc.r.a.p with some boneheads from the mainland. It's a full-scale war on the far side of the civilized world if you can call Ilium civilized. Any man who sails today won't be seen again in these islands for at least a year you can count on that. So I say the same now as I said when I first heard mention of this so-called expedition: Odysseus should take sixty good men in a single ship and be done with it. That's more than he needs to do to fulfil this cursed oath, and it'll leave the islands well-enough manned for their own protection, not to speak of the day-to-day business of farming and fishing and so on.'

'That's as may be,' said Halitherses, 'but it won't be the way Odysseus sees it. If I know him at all, and I know him better than you do Phronius, he'll want to show Ithaca in the best light possible. We may not be a rich or powerful kingdom, but we've come a long way since Laertes's day. Just look at this hall, for example, or the number of slaves and guards there are now compared with ten years ago. If the other kings are bringing large numbers of ships and warriors, as Agamemnon says, then Odysseus won't make Ithaca a laughing stock by turning up with a mere boatful of soldiers. He's leaving more than enough men at home for Ithaca to take care of itself, though if he could've begged and borrowed more than a dozen ships I'm sure he'd have taken as many as could fit in their black hulls.'

'It's more than just a matter of pride,' Mentor added. 'Odysseus may be a king, but he's a husband and father first. His heart is here with Penelope and Telemachus, and he wants to get this war over as quickly as possible so he can come back to his family. The more men he takes, the bigger the Greek army and the better the chance of a speedy victory.'

'Whatever the reason, I'm just glad he's taking a good number of men with him,' said Halitherses. 'I wouldn't want to think of Odysseus facing a Trojan army with just a handful of Ithacans around him, no matter how many other Greeks there might be. At least his own people will stick by him if things get rough. And Eperitus'll see that he comes home safe won't you, Eperitus?'

Eperitus, who had been watching the flames twitching in the hearth, looked up.

'Aren't you forgetting something, Halitherses? You were there when the Pythoness spoke her words of doom. Haven't you given any mind to what she said?'

'Of course I have!' Halitherses hissed, lowering his voice. 'And I mean to remind Odysseus of it, too . . .'

Before he could say any more, the door at the back of the great hall opened and Odysseus entered with his father. They were followed by slaves bearing tables laden with bread and cold meat, which they hurriedly placed around the circular hearth before retreating into the shadows. More slaves brought kraters of mixed wine for the members of the Kerosia as they stood for their king. Finally, a troop of four fully armed soldiers entered and stood guard at the door, which they closed behind them with a bang.

Odysseus took two kraters from a slave, handed one to his father, then approached the hearth and poured a libation into the flames. The others did the same, uttering quiet prayers as each slop of wine was welcomed with a hiss. Then Odysseus retreated to the granite throne and sat on the embroidered cushion that had been placed there by one of the slaves. Taking a tall staff of dark wood from another slave, he signalled for the others to return to their seats.

Laertes lowered himself into the vacant chair beside Eperitus, releasing a pained sigh as his joints bent to accommodate the simple movement. He turned his rheumy eyes on the captain of the guard for a lingering moment, then pa.s.sed his gaze one by one to the other members of the Kerosia. When, finally, it was the turn of Eupeithes, his eyes narrowed and his stare remained fixed on the fat merchant. Eupeithes, however, had become used to this treatment some years ago and had learned to simply ignore it.

Odysseus leaned back into the throne and faced the council. Two large, grey dolphins decorated the wall behind him, their bodies arced over his shoulders and their noses almost touching. Odysseus had adopted the creature for his coat of arms long before he had become king, but now the image was found all through the palace and even on the sails of the ships that were waiting in the harbour below the town, ready for the long voyage to Troy.

'Agamemnon has been sighted coming up from the south,' he announced. 'He promised us a fortnight to prepare our forces, and that's exactly what we've had there can be no further delay. Have the men who were chosen arrived, Eurylochus?'

'Yes, cousin, and many more besides. Most have come pleading to join the expedition, and some have even offered money to the lucky few to take their places. Several others were caught trying to stow themselves away on the ships. We were forced to drag them off and there were more than a few quarrels about it.'

'Their enthusiasm encourages me,' Odysseus said, though there was little sign of it in his face.

'Their spirits may be willing,' Phronius grunted, 'but any lunatic can rush off to war if they've never raised a spear in anger. I want to know what the abilities are of the men you've picked. How many of them have seen battle? What training have they had? Can they fight as a unit? These are the sorts of question we need to ask now if any of them are to come back.'

Eperitus stood and received the staff from Odysseus.

'You're right to ask these questions, Phronius. You saw your fair share of fighting when you were our age and you know what it can do to a warrior. But I'll be honest with you: most of these men are untrained and almost none have seen battle. I can vouch for the two hundred men that are being released from the guard, of course Halitherses and I have trained them hard over the years, and they're fit and well used to working together as a unit. About a quarter have seen combat, too: the men who came with us to Samos recently, and those who fought to liberate Ithaca years ago from the Taphian invaders. But we chose the eight hundred as much for their fitness, strength, courage and willingness to fight, and I have complete faith that they will not let Odysseus down.'

Eurylochus stood and looked at the captain of the guard with contempt. 'No more than a dozen have ever been in a real battle,' he sneered. 'And only the guards have had any formal military training, or know how to manoeuvre as a disciplined unit. The rest will be a shambles if they go to war. They barely know how to use their weapons, let alone how to work together as an army.'

'That'll be taken care of,' Eperitus responded, ignoring Eurylochus and facing the other members of the council. 'We've already started giving the volunteers rudimentary weapons training and teaching them a few moves and basic tactics. There's been no time to make them into warriors or a functioning army, but Odysseus and I have worked out a proper training schedule, which we'll have enough time to implement when we reach Aulis.'

'Aulis?' asked Mentor.

'It's a sheltered bay in the Euboean straits,' Odysseus answered. 'Agamemnon has made it the muster point for the Greek fleet. We'll be there for weeks or even months while we wait for latecomers and make the proper preparations for war. Before we even think of sailing for Troy, the kings will need to agree on a leader for the expedition which will almost certainly be Agamemnon and then decide on strategies, tactics, reserves, supplies and so on.'

'As far as our own army is concerned, you can leave the problem of supply with me,' said Eupeithes, standing and sweeping his yellow cloak over his shoulder with a flourish. He received the speaker's staff from Eperitus and turned to look at the members of the Kerosia. 'In fact I've already made arrangements for corn to be shipped from Dulichium and wine from Samos and all at a reasonable discount, considering the cause is a patriotic one. As for the army's other needs clothing, replacement weaponry, not to mention lesser trifles such as pots, pans, bedding, and so on I've discussed this with local merchants and we've agreed . . .'

'Sit down, you fat fool,' Laertes interrupted, glaring contemptuously at his old enemy. 'Don't you know Agamemnon and Menelaus have offered to provision the whole Greek army?'

'But . . . But n.o.body told . . .'

'Oh stop stammering and get back to your seat,' Laertes snapped, walking around the hearth and s.n.a.t.c.hing the staff from Eupeithes's hand. 'Now, this is the question I want to ask: what about the Trojans? We know the Greeks should be able to provide a large army if the oath is honoured and each king brings his fair share of soldiers and that a good core should be well trained, properly equipped and experienced, but what do we know about the enemy? Well, when I was the king of Ithaca I wasn't as idle or ignorant as some of my subjects thought,' Laertes glared at Eupeithes, 'so I'll tell you what I know. Priam, they say, is a womanizer with more brains in his p.e.n.i.s than his head, but he has or at least he had a particular son who effectively rules in his stead. His name is Hector, a violent brute of a man with a sharp mind when it comes to fighting. He rules over an empire of va.s.sal states and allied cities, which he keeps on a tight rein through the ruthless application of violence and fear. The Trojan army is considerable in size and battle-hardened through its unending border wars, and they can call on large numbers of warriors from the rest of the empire. These foreigners breed like dogs, so even with the whole of Greece against them they'll easily be able to match us man for man. I can't speak for their quality, but when a man is defending his home and knows the only thing between a vicious enemy and his wife and children is his spear, he will fight twice as hard as any invader.

'What's more,' Laertes continued, turning his calm, knowing eyes on Odysseus, 'the Trojans boast that the walls of their city were built by Apollo and Poseidon. They're impenetrable. Even if you defeat their walls of flesh and blood, my son, you won't pa.s.s their walls of stone. As I see it, if you go on this mission to Troy then it'll be many years before you see the halls of your own palace again if at all.'

At this point, Halitherses stood and moved towards Laertes, who gave him the speaker's staff and returned to his seat.

'Odysseus,' Halitherses began, 'your father speaks with the wisdom of a G.o.d. As soon as I heard of this proposed mission to rescue Helen the moment I learned she was being held in Troy my heart sank. Did you think I'd forgotten Mount Parna.s.sus and the oracle the Pythoness gave you? Indeed, could any man forget the sight of that poor girl, transformed as she was with the face and tongue of a serpent, speaking those fateful words? It's always been kept a secret between those of us who were there you, Eperitus, Antiphus and I but now the time has come to share it with the Kerosia. Give me leave to reveal what she said, so that the council will know the doom that awaits you.'

Odysseus looked pensively at the old soldier, then gave a quiet nod of his head. Halitherses turned to the others and, in a slow voice, began to repeat the words of the priestess.

'"Find a daughter of Lacedaemon and she will keep the thieves from your house. As father of your people you will count the harvests on your fingers. But if ever you seek Priam's city, the wide waters will swallow you. For the time it takes a baby to become a man, you will know no home. Then, when friends and fortune have departed from you, you will rise again from the dead."'

As he spoke the flames in the hearth sputtered and threatened to fail altogether, while the shadows about the hall multiplied and grew darker. A silence fell and it was only after the last words had died away that the fire began to spit and crackle again, and the fidgeting of the slaves could be heard once more in the background.

'It doesn't seem like any choice at all to me,' said Mentor. 'Stay at home and be cursed by the G.o.ds for breaking an oath, or go to Troy and be doomed not to return home for two decades.'

'Which is why I say Odysseus should abandon this expedition and risk the fury of the Olympians,' Halitherses replied. 'The alternative is unthinkable.'

'Don't be foolish, Halitherses,' Odysseus admonished him. 'If anything in this life is certain, it's the vengefulness of the G.o.ds. We live by their blessing and provision, and suffer through their anger or fickle moods. No, I wouldn't willingly incur their wrath for anything even when the alternative is being sentenced to twenty years at the other end of the world, away from my home and family. But there is still hope! The force Agamemnon is gathering is powerful indeed: Diomedes will be there; both the Ajaxes; Idomeneus of Crete; Menestheus of Athens; Nestor the famous charioteer. Even Achilles is to be asked.'

'Hope!' Phronius exclaimed, his voice cracking with disbelief. 'Hope? An oracle is the will of the G.o.ds, Odysseus there can be no hope.'

'Then let me reveal another secret,' the king retorted. 'Ten years ago the Kerosia yourself included, Phronius sent me on a mission to compete with the best men in Greece for the hand of Helen. The odds were against me, but that has never stopped me from taking up a challenge. Then, before I had even reached Sparta, Athena herself told me that Helen was to be given to Menelaus. I believed her, of course, because the will of the G.o.ds cannot be changed by mortal action. Or that was what I had always believed. But then Helen offered herself to me, and her father was prepared to honour her wish.'

'What's that?' Laertes said, sitting up. 'If Helen offered herself to you, why didn't you take the chance and be sure of saving Ithaca?'