The Oath

15

I stopped the horses in the shelter of a crumbling wall, because I understood that going any further would have been dangerous. Clouds had covered the moon and I had Penelope with me. Besides that, I felt sick at leaving Sparta the way I had, like a thief. I had perhaps stopped Helen’s suitors from facing off in a series of bloody duels, but now I was running off with a princess of royal blood, against the will of her father, and leaving the men of my escort in an impossible situation. Nestor himself, he who had helped me so generously, could suffer damage because of my behaviour. My mission, which had begun with the best of auspices, had ended up quite badly. And yet at that moment all that mattered to me was that I was alone with the girl I loved, the girl I had lost my heart to the moment I heard her voice.

Both she and I were eager to savour our love without waiting another moment, carried away by the ardour of our youth and by our emotions. I breathed in her scent, the fragrance of her dusky skin made more precious by Arabian perfumes. I sought her eyes in the darkness and she mine. The kisses we’d dreamed of could not sate our passion and our desire; on the contrary, they set us on fire, like when the wind blows on the flames devouring the forest, but I held in check the heart that coveted her so fervently, and holding her close, I said: ‘Penelope, there is no creature in this world that I could desire more than you, because it is not only your beauty that I love; I love everything that makes you the way you are: gentle and sweet, proud and luminous. The gods have surely made you for me because I will never ever desire another, now that I have met you. I would never take another woman as my bride.’

‘I know,’ she replied, caressing my face. ‘You turned down Helen. No one noticed but me. No one else in the world would have been capable of doing that. That is why I veiled my head and my face for you, so you would understand that I wanted you and no one else, not now and not ever.’

‘That’s why we can’t flee. We have to turn back. I’ll speak to King Tyndareus and ask him to speak to his brother so that he will not curse me and will consent to you becoming my bride. He’ll listen to me. That’s why I won’t take the pleasure of love from you in this dark, squalid place. I want to take you to a place you will cherish, sweetly fragranced like the nest of a dove in the springtime. A place worthy of you and of me, my joy and my love. Come now, let us go back.’

I held out my hand and helped her back into the chariot. I turned in the direction of Sparta and urged the horses onward at a steady pace. The white road appeared before us as we proceeded slowly and the clouds let through a dim but diffuse glow. We made our way up the slope of a hill but when we got to the top we saw a scene that made us catch our breath: thirty war chariots were coming towards us in a fan formation. Tens of lit torches were fixed to the points of the warriors’ spears to light the ground as they advanced. I stopped and they stopped as well. For a few moments there was a silence as heavy as the sky hanging over us. All we could hear was the crackling of the torches and the snorting of the horses. Then one of the chariots, the one at the centre with the royal insignia on its standard, came forward until it was in front of us.

The king of Sparta spoke: ‘Where are you going at this late hour, prince of Ithaca, after deserting my daughter’s wedding? And who is this girl so shameless as to flee with you in secret, at night?’

I took Penelope by the hand. We got out of the chariot and approached the king’s carriage.

‘We are not fleeing, wanax, and the honour of your niece, Princess Penelope, has suffered no offence, even though love is a god that no mortal can resist. He overwhelmed us and impelled us to take flight, but then we realized that we could not leave your house this way and we were coming back to ask for your forgiveness. And also to ask you-’

‘What?’ asked the king.

‘To intercede with your brother Icarius, who tried to stop us fleeing, so that he might agree to his daughter becoming my bride. King Laertes my father will send a great quantity of wedding gifts, worthy of his noble house, and will welcome Penelope with every honour. He will love her as a daughter. I beg of you, wanax.’

Tyndareus seemed to listen indulgently to my words. ‘I found you as you were heading back, Odysseus, and so I believe what you’ve told me. I cannot forget that your help has been precious to me. Helen now has a husband and all of the princes of Achaia are bound by an oath. Although you have offended my house by carrying off my niece-’

‘He didn’t abduct me!’ exclaimed Penelope. ‘I went with him willingly and even if you tried to keep me from him I would escape to be with him, for he is the man of my life.’

Tyndareus didn’t answer. He turned to me instead: ‘I do not think that my brother Icarius would be willing to listen to you now and allow his daughter to become your wife. But I will arrange for the two of you to meet his wife Polycaste in secret. She’ll know how to speak to her husband. I will tell Icarius that King Laertes will pay him a personal visit to ask for a bride for his son.’

I kissed his hand and thanked him and Penelope did the same. Then we resumed our journey, escorted by the war chariots that returned, following the king, to Sparta.

We were very tired when we finally arrived late that night and I was accompanied to my room in a secluded part of the palace. Penelope, veiled, was whisked away to the queen’s quarters under the cover of darkness.

Although I was bone weary I could not sleep. Penelope and I had been together for a very brief time, but being separated from her made me anxious and profoundly uneasy. I felt that if I lost her, my life would never be the same, and that I would mourn her for the rest of my days. I got up and went out to walk in the olive grove outside the palace near my quarters. I’m not sure how much time had passed when I noticed that the clouds had cleared and the moon shining in the sky was nearly full, casting many shadows onto the ground. One drew up next to mine and a voice rang out behind me: ‘Why wouldn’t you have me?’

In the moonlight Helen was so beautiful it hurt. Like a sword entering my flesh. Only a goddess could be the way she looked to me at that moment. The sublime curves of her body showed through the light gown she had donned for the night. Her wedding night. Her hair hung loose on her breasts and shoulders, caressing her perfect face as its golden reflections sparkled even in her eyes.

‘No man could ever resist your extraordinary beauty and your radiant gaze. I trembled before such splendour-’

‘You wounded me, prince of Ithaca, and now you won’t answer me. Why didn’t you want me?’

‘It was Penelope, your cousin, that I was thinking of, and now I’m sure that I love her. She is made for me and I for her. You would have been unhappy on my little rocky island and you would never have forgiven me. You are made of gold in my eyes and as distant as the moon, too distant for me to even think about having you. I am not great, nor powerful; none of the magnificent heroes who vied for your hand would ever have tolerated you choosing me. They would have cursed you, and me for deceiving them. .’

‘Say nothing else,’ she replied, ‘but know that you have made me unhappy. And a woman like me, when she is unhappy, can do more damage than an entire army.’

I suddenly felt my courage failing me and my vision fogging over, and I knew that I had to leave. ‘You have married a strong, handsome young man who will make you happy. Happiness is what I wish for you. Farewell, Helen.’

I walked towards my room but her voice stopped me and she approached me again, coming so close that the scent of her made my heart tremble. ‘And yet you and I will see each other again, alone, in a beautiful place. You and I alone, like husband and wife. I dreamed it. I don’t know how or when but it will happen.’ She vanished in the moonlight, among the shadows of the olive trees.

The next morning I met Polycaste, Penelope’s mother, in secret, to ask her to try to sway her husband’s feelings. Penelope’s destiny was joined to mine and nothing could change that. I still nurtured hope that one day Icarius would accept our union and consider me his son. Tyndareus promised me that he too would speak to his brother and that he would send me a message when his sentiments had changed. I thanked the king again for believing me and speaking up on our behalf and defending us. Penelope and I were ready to leave with my escort for Pylos, our first stop on the way to Ithaca.

I had already asked my cousin Eurylochus to set off before me and to travel as swiftly as he could, so he could tell my parents that I would be arriving with my betrothed. Happy as I was that my father and mother would soon be meeting Penelope, I couldn’t put the memory of Helen’s night-time apparition and her bitter words out of my mind for many days and nights.

At Pylos I greeted Nestor and thanked him with all my heart, for he had always treated me as a son, and we set sail for Ithaca on one of his ships. But he, the knight of Gerene, as everyone called him, insisted on sending another ten ships as my escort, with a hundred warriors clad in gleaming bronze on board, so we would not run into any danger. Eurylochus had taken my own ship, so he could reach the island more quickly.

The sea was calm, the wind in our favour. I felt content, because I’d had to make many decisions and they were all good ones. But there must have been something about me that made Penelope realize that my mind was wandering because she often asked: ‘What are you thinking about?’ As if she could read my heart.

‘I’m thinking of us, of the life we’ll live together, of the children we’ll have, of the day in which we will be the king and queen of Ithaca and the western islands. My father will be my counsellor and his wife Anticlea will be like a second mother to you.’

‘Are you truly not sorry you rejected Helen? I’ll never forget that moment. The entire world came to a stop. Even the gods were looking down from on high to see who the chosen one would be.’

‘I didn’t reject her. I gave her a look that made her realize we’d never be happy together. I’m very relieved about the way things went. What could have been a string of duels ending in the deaths of many of the most valiant young princes of Achaia was instead resolved without violence. Now the sons of the Argonauts are at peace amongst themselves, like their fathers were before them.’

‘Is it peace that you see, Odysseus? May the gods heed your words. Do you know who Agamemnon and Menelaus really are? Do you know who their father Atreus is? Do you know what he did to his wife, who betrayed him with his brother Thyestes, and what he did to his brother when he found out? He invited him to a banquet, feigning a desire to make peace, and when Thyestes was seated, he served him-’

‘I don’t want to hear these things!’ I shouted. ‘Even if it’s true, it’s of no interest to me. Atreus was not an Argonaut.’

We arrived on the evening of the third day of navigation at the main port and I could see instantly that Eurylochus had succeeded in arriving well before us. Thirty ships, fifteen on the right and fifteen on the left, emerged from behind the promontory and joined the others escorting us. The oars beat the foam-rimmed waves in perfect rhythm. The banners of the most powerful families of the kingdom fluttered from the yards, and shields polished to a mirror-finish hung at the sides, reflecting the last red glimmers of the sun which was sinking into the sea. Then, as soon as the ways of the water and land were darkened, hundreds of torches took flame on the prows and sides of each ship, so that it looked like vessels of fire were ploughing the waves of the gulf. The fires set even the sea ablaze! As we sailed closer and closer to land, a sweet sound was carried on the air, and a chorus of girls dressed in white and crowned with flowers appeared on the shore. They were singing the wedding song: they sang of the beauty and grace of the bride and the vigour of the husband who would lift her in his arms to carry her into his home. At their centre was the king, my father, surrounded by his guard. He was wearing the armour he’d worn in battle in Colchis: the breastplate was embossed and the shin guards gleamed. His invincible sword hung at his left side from a baldric adorned with silver and tawny copper. Covering his shoulders was the same light blue cloak he’d worn the first time I saw him descending from his ship. At his left, the queen my mother was wearing a gown I’d never seen before: yellow with wide purple stripes. A veil was fastened to her hair by a finely crafted clasp of amber and gold.

Tears came to my eyes.

‘See?’ I said to Penelope. ‘I told you my parents would be honoured to have you.’

The sailors lowered the gangplank onto the wharf made of oak boards and poles and we walked onto dry land, Penelope and I. I bowed in front of my father, kissed his hand and greeted him, then bent my knees in front of my mother and kissed her hand as well. I said: ‘Father and mother, I beg you to welcome my betrothed, Penelope, daughter of the noble Icarius of Sparta, with benevolence and affection, and to bless her so she may gladden our house with children.’

‘My daughter,’ my father said to her.

‘My child,’ said my mother, embracing her and kissing her on the eyes and cheeks, ‘you are most welcome here. We will love you.’

‘We will love you,’ repeated my father.

Behind them I caught a glimpse of my nurse Euriclea, who was weeping tears of joy, continually dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief without managing to keep them dry.

On the ships, the sailors were waiting for a signal from the herald. When it came, they all lifted their oars from the sea at once, raised the blades and pounded the rowing benches with the handles, making the hollow of the hull resound with a deep rumble, sounding like the thunder roaring down from the mountain peaks and descending on the sea.

We got onto a cart pulled by white bulls, and hundreds of warriors holding lit torches escorted us to the palace, the walls and windows of which were already brightly illuminated.

A beautiful celebration awaited us. All of the noble families of the kingdom were invited and the great hall had been adorned with flowers and garlands of pine, myrtle and juniper twigs. Meats of all the best cuts were roasting on spits and baskets were filled with freshly baked breads. There were even flute players and dancers who had been called from the mainland.

Everyone’s eyes were on Penelope. But she was looking at me and I at her.

The next day my father took me to the side of the palace that faced east and said to me: ‘This is where you will build your wedding chamber. I would have taken care of it myself but I could not imagine that you would return already engaged! To such a flower, if I may say so. Look, here she is, coming this way. An early riser! She hasn’t seen us yet.’

‘Thank you, father. Don’t worry. If you can spare a few servants to help me, I’ll get the work done in no time. Woodcutters, first of all, so we can get rid of that olive tree that’s taking up so much room.’

‘In no time. .’ replied the king, smiling. ‘You must be very eager to bring her into your wedding chamber.’

No sooner had he said this than the servants arrived, with two hardy woodcutters. They were already lifting their axes when Penelope spotted us and shouted: ‘Stop them, I beg of you!’

I had a flash: the dream I’d had of a water bird alighting on an olive tree in my house.

I raised my hand to stop the axes as Penelope reached my side. ‘It’s so beautiful, that olive tree. Please, don’t destroy it. Let it live. Do it for me,’ she said.

‘I will do it for you, gladly. This fulfils the destiny that was revealed to me in a dream.’

I turned to my father then: ‘You know, atta, when I saw her for the first time she was in a garden of apple and olive trees and she was gathering flowers.’

In the days that followed, I used white flour to mark the borders of the walls, ordered stones to be squared and sent for expert stone-cutters. Others were already at work carving out the foundations with pickaxes. All around the olive tree that Penelope loved they built walls, straight and well connected with big cornerstones. Enough room was left inside to install the ceiling beams that other craftsmen were smoothing and squaring. And I left big openings for the windows. In spring and summer, the sunlight would pour in and light up every corner; I would close the shutters only in winter, to keep out Boreas’ breath. Then I was ready. I sent all the workers away so that I could finish the work myself. No one was to see what I was doing.

I raised the ceiling beams into place and secured wooden boards over them, using bronze nails. I fitted them carefully to leave an opening big enough for the olive trunk to pass through, and I left room for the stair as well. The moment had come to carry out my plan. I removed the tree’s biggest branches with a saw and trimmed them with clippers, leaving only the lighter boughs all around. When I’d finished I used a chisel to make openings in the cut branches where I’d be able to fit the legs of our wedding bed. The legs were secured, so they would never budge, with long wooden pegs that I hammered into horizontal openings I had drilled from one side of the branch to the other. I nailed four big wooden planks onto the legs and on this framework stretched strips of cowhide, interweaving and pulling them with great force so that they would provide support and not sag when weight was set upon them. On top of this web I placed the mattress that the maids in the house had already prepared, made of pressed, quilted wool covered with linen fabric. Then I laid out sheeting made of finely woven wool whitened with ash. Lastly I put a precious purple bedcover over the mattress and pillows. It had been part of my mother’s dowry when she entered Laertes’ house as a young bride.

Our wedding was celebrated as soon as our abode was ready, before the priestess of Hera who protects hearth and home. I lifted my bride in my arms and carried her over the threshold of my house. Then, when evening came, the maidservants arrived with lit torches to prepare her and accompany her to the door of the bedchamber upstairs. After she had entered, they retired.

When I heard her cries of wonder and joy, my heart filled with a happiness I had never felt before. From the darkness downstairs where I’d been waiting alone, I looked up now, to the opening at the top of the stair, from which the rosy glow of an oil lamp filtered. The pounding of my heart was almost suffocating me, and I had to wait to catch my breath before I went up to the perfumed wedding chamber where the woman I loved was waiting for me.

She was smiling, lying on the purple cover, her glossy raven-black hair spread over the pillow, her divine body barely veiled by a light weave that felt the night breeze. She was crowned all around by tiny olive branches; their shiny green leaves stood out against the bright purple. Penelope’s eyes gleamed fire in the darkness.

‘You made me a nest in the branches of a tree! No other man in the world would have even thought of such a thing. If it were only for this, I would love you forever,’ she whispered.

‘A water bird settled on an olive tree in the house of Laertes. You were given to me by the gods, my love.’

She opened her arms to me and I lifted the delicate veil to contemplate my bride, to caress her as she closed her eyes and the desire for love overwhelmed her.

Never in my life have I been so happy, never has my heart beat so hard, never again has a mortal woman or a goddess given me as much pleasure as my bride that night, gentle, smooth, ardent. The aurora found us still intertwined. I darkened the bedchamber and sleep fell on our eyelids. The scent of her filled my dreams.

I heard her voice whispering: ‘The gods will envy us for this. The immortals will never be able to understand the intensity and fire of our ecstasy, splendid Odysseus, prince of Ithaca, my husband.’