The Oath

1

They called me Odysseus. It was my grandfather Autolykos, king of Acarnania, who gave me that name when he arrived at the palace a month after my birth. I soon realized that other children had fathers and I did not. At night, before going to sleep, I’d ask my nurse: ‘Mai, where is my father?’

‘He left with other kings and warriors to find a treasure in a faraway place.’

‘And when is he coming back?’

‘I don’t know. No one does. When you go to sea you never know when you’ll be back. There are storms, pirates, rocks. Your ship can even be destroyed, but maybe you manage to swim to shore, and survive. Then you have to wait until another ship comes by to save you and that may take months, or years. If a pirate vessel should stop instead, you’ll be snatched up and sold as a slave in the next port. It’s a risky life that sailors lead. The sea shelters any number of terrible monsters, mysterious creatures that live in her depths and rise to the surface on moonless nights. . but now you must sleep, my little one.’

‘Why did he go to look for a treasure?’

‘Because all the most powerful warriors of Achaia were going. How could he not join them? One day the singers will tell of this tale and the names of those who took part will be remembered for all eternity.’

I nodded my head as if I approved but I really couldn’t understand why he had to leave. Why should you risk your life just so someone can sing about you one day and tell of how brave you’d been to leave home and risk your life?

‘Why do I have to sleep with you, mai? Why can’t I sleep with my mother?’

‘Because your mother is the queen and she can’t sleep with someone who wets the bed.’

‘I don’t wet the bed.’

‘Good,’ said the nurse, ‘so starting tomorrow you can sleep on your own.’ And that’s how it went. My mother, Queen Anticlea, had me moved to a room all my own with an oak bed decorated with inlaid bone. She had a fine woollen blanket embroidered with rich purple threads brought to me.

‘Why can’t I sleep with you?’

‘Because you’re not a baby any more and you are a prince. Princes are not afraid to sleep on their own. But for a little while I’ll tell Phemius to keep you company. He’s a fine young man. He knows lots of beautiful stories and he’ll sing them to you until you fall asleep.’

‘What stories?’

‘Whatever stories you like. Of how Perseus fought Medusa, of Theseus against the Minotaur and lots of others.’

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Certainly,’ my mother replied.

‘Tonight I’d like you to tell me a story, any story you like. Something that my father has done. Tell me about when you met him for the first time.’

She smiled and sat down on my bed next to me. ‘What happened was that my father invited him to a hunting party. Our kingdoms were next to each other; your father’s was west, on the islands, and my father’s was on the mainland. It was a way they could band together, join up against invaders. I was lucky. I could have been promised to marry a fat, bald old man! But your father Laertes was handsome and strong, and just eight years older than me. He didn’t know how to ride, though. So my father taught him and gave him a horse as a gift.’

‘That’s all?’ I asked her. I had imagined a fierce battle to free her from a monster or from a cruel tyrant who was keeping her prisoner.

‘No,’ she replied, ‘but that’s all I can tell you. One day, maybe. When you’re big enough to understand.’

‘I can already understand.’

‘No. Not now.’

Another year passed with no news from the king, but at least now I had a teacher who knew all kinds of things and told me all about my father. Hunting adventures, booty raids, battles against pirates: much better stories than the ones my mother told me. He, the teacher, was called Mentor. He was young, with dark eyes and a black beard that made him seem older than he was. He had an answer for every question, except the only one I really cared about: ‘When will my father be back?’

‘So you remember your father?’

I nodded yes.

‘You do? Then what colour was his hair?’

‘Black.’

‘Everyone has black hair on this island. What about his eyes?’

‘Sharp. The colour of the sea.’

Mentor looked deep into my eyes: ‘Do you really remember or are you just trying to guess?’

I didn’t answer.

My father came back at the end of spring. The news reached the palace one day just before dawn and threw everyone into a real flurry. My nurse quickly had a bath prepared for the queen, then helped her to choose a gown and dress her hair. Her jewellery box was fetched so she could pick the pieces she fancied. Then nurse had me put on the long robe I wore when we had visitors, a red one with two golden bands. I liked it. I tried to catch a glimpse of myself in one of the mirrors in the women’s quarters.

‘Don’t get dirty, don’t play in the dust, don’t play with the dogs. .’ nurse called after me.

‘Can I wait under the portico?’

‘Yes, if you don’t get dirty.’

I sat down under the portico. At least from there I could watch people coming and going, like the servants who were preparing lunch for the king. The pig squealed under the knife and then they hung him by his back legs. The dogs licked the trickle of blood that was dripping onto the ground. The servants had collected most of it in jars to make blood sausage. That was one thing I didn’t like at all.

Mentor arrived just then, grabbed his staff and started off down the path that led to the port. I looked around to make sure no one was watching me and took off after him, catching him up near the fountain.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Mentor asked me.

‘With you. To meet my father.’

‘If Euriclea realizes you’re not there any more she’ll go crazy and then your mother will have her beaten; she’s only too happy to. .’ Mentor stopped, realizing that what he was about to say wasn’t meant for a six-year-old’s ears.

‘My mother is jealous of Euriclea the nurse, isn’t she?’

Mentor couldn’t believe what he’d just heard: ‘Do you even know what the word “jealous” means?’

‘I do know but I don’t know how to explain it. . I know, jealous is when you want something just for yourself.’

‘Right you are,’ replied Mentor, taking me by the hand. ‘Well, come along, then. Hold your robe up with your right hand so you won’t trip on it and get yourself punished.’

We started walking.

‘Why do you need a staff if you are young and a fast walker?’

‘To scare off the vipers: if they bite you, you’re dead.’

‘It isn’t because you want to look wiser and more important?’

Mentor stopped short and gave me a stern look, pointing his index finger at me: ‘Don’t ask me any more questions that you already know the answer to.’

‘I was just trying to guess,’ I offered lamely.

The sun was already high when we arrived at the port. The royal ship had been sighted when it was still far from shore thanks to the standard waving at its stern. A great number of boats had gone out to escort it festively to land.

‘There he is,’ said Mentor, pointing a finger. ‘That man with the light blue cloak and the spear in his hand is King Laertes: your father.’

When I heard those words I wriggled my hand free and started running fast down the slope in the direction of the port. I ran like the wind until I found myself standing in front of the warrior with the sky-blue cloak. Then I stopped and looked at him, panting. Eyes the colour of the sea.

He recognized me and picked me up into his arms.

‘You’re my father, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, I am your father. Do you still remember me?’

‘I do. You haven’t changed.’

‘Well you’ve changed quite a lot. Listen to you: you sound like a grown-up. And what a fast runner you’ve become! I was watching as you came down the mountain.’

A servant brought a horse, the only one on the island, for the king. Laertes mounted and pulled me up to sit in front of him. A whole procession followed us: my father’s friends, his bodyguards, the noblemen, the representatives of the people and the foremen in charge of the royal properties and livestock. As the procession advanced, people started pouring out along the path that snaked its way up to the palace. Mentor walked alongside the king’s horse, a position of respect that showed how highly he was thought of, but from my new perch I was seeing him from a completely new point of view, and that really made me feel like a prince.

The celebrations went on until late, but I had to go to bed right after dusk. I stayed awake a long time because of the din; all that laughing and loud talking coming from the banquet hall kept me from falling asleep. Raucous voices from the banquet hall. .

Then everything was quiet. The oil lamps cast flickering shadows on the walls, doors were pulled open and slammed shut and bolts were drawn. Even though it was the middle of the night, I wasn’t really sound asleep, I was still too excited over all the singing and shouting. I was only in a half slumber when the sound of a door opening startled me awake. I slipped out into the hall in the dark and saw a man entering the room of Euriclea, my nurse. I got closer. I could hear strange noises coming from inside and I recognized my father’s voice. I understood deep down in my heart that what was happening in the room just then was not something a child could watch. I went back to bed and pulled the covers up completely over my head. My heart was beating so fast that it kept me awake a little longer but then finally it quietened and I fell asleep.

It was Mentor who woke me up the next day. Nurse must have been tired. ‘It’s morning! Go and wash up. We have a lot to do today and your father will be wanting to spend time with you.’

‘My father slept with my mother first and then with mai.’

‘Mind your own business. Your father is the king and can do what he likes.’

‘I used to sleep with the nurse and now he does. I want to know why.’

‘You’ll know in time. Euriclea is his. He bought her and he can do what he pleases with her.’

I thought of the strange noises I’d heard during the night and maybe I understood.

‘I know what he did.’

‘Did you spy on them?’

‘No. One day Eumeus, the swineherd, called me over when the boar was mounting the sow.’

‘Well he deserves a good smacking for that! Go and get washed,’ Mentor ordered me, pointing to the tub full of water taken from the spring that flowed from under the foundations of the palace.

I washed and then dressed myself. Mentor pointed to a boulder that overlooked the path about a hundred paces away. ‘Go and sit up there and wait. Your father went hunting before dawn. He’ll be coming back that way. When he sees you, he’ll stop to talk.’

I obeyed and started walking up the path alone. I watched the shepherds pushing the flocks out of the fold to take them out to pasture. The dogs followed, barking. I got to the boulder and climbed on top of it, and then I turned to wave at Mentor: I’m here! But he wasn’t there any more. He’d vanished.

I sat and watched the servants and farmers going about their business below me, the shepherds tending their sheep and goats. As one moment melted into the next, the sunlight seeped into all of the deepest valleys and lit up the crags that were most hidden. I started playing with some coloured stones I always kept in the pocket of my robe. I tossed them and picked them up, then tossed them out again to see if they’d fall differently. They were always different. I thought: how long would I have to keep tossing before the stones fell in exactly the same way as the time before? My whole life?

‘Are you playing by yourself?’ asked my father’s voice behind me.

‘There’s no one to play with.’

‘What do you expect to see when you toss your stones?’

‘They predict the future.’

‘And what do they say?’

‘That I’ll make a long journey. Like you.’

‘That’s easy to predict. You live on an island that seems big to you now. In a little while it will seem small to you.’

‘I’ll go where no one else has ever gone.’ I looked into my father’s sea-green eyes. ‘How far have you gone?’

‘To where the sea breaks up against the mountains. They are very high, and always covered with snow. The snow melts into rivers that rush and tumble to the sea. The journey is so short that the water never has time to warm up even when the sun is out, and it stays icy cold until it joins the water of the sea.’

‘Is that where you found the treasure?’

‘Who told you that?’

‘The nurse.’

My father lowered his head. He had some white strands in his black hair.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘But do you want the real truth or the tale that the singers tell?’

That was hard to answer. Was I interested in the real truth? Why should I be? The truth isn’t something for children. Once you tell about something, it becomes true. Like: the king of a little island departs for a great adventure. All of the most powerful warriors of Achaia are going. Could he possibly stay behind? That was the truth. But then, I started thinking that. . for real, there were only men, goats, sheep and pigs on my island. But if someone should venture far away, really really far away, who knows what he might find: monsters? Giants? Sea serpents? Why not? The gods? Why not?

‘Tell me everything,’ I said. ‘Father, tell me about your comrades: is it true they are the greatest heroes of Achaia?’

‘They are!’ he smiled. ‘Hercules. .’ he opened his arms wide, ‘is the strongest man on earth. When he flexes his muscles it’s a fearsome sight indeed. I believe he could kill a lion with his bare hands. No one can win a fight with him. His favourite weapon is a club; he never uses weapons made of metal. But he can bring down a bull with that club. Sometimes he would pull our ship to shore all by himself, and tie the hawser to an olive tree. . You know what? He was the one who cut down the pine tree that we made the ship out of. A trunk so gigantic that twelve men could not join hands around it! The last of its kind on Mount Pelion. Then the master carpenter crafted the vessel using his hatchet on the outside and an adz on the inside. It was Hercules who gave the ship her name: the Argo, because she is so swift.’

I don’t remember how long we sat on that stone watching the slow movement of shadow and light on the contours of our island. I listened intently, enchanted by my father’s voice, chewing on an oat stalk. The words poured from his mouth like flocks of birds from a cliff when the sun comes up. The sound was like a hunting horn when it rises in pitch. It would stay with me my whole life.I still wake at night to ‘Get up, we’re going hunting!’ Now that he’s no longer alive. . Atta. . my father. . my king.

Who was the strongest after Hercules, then? Who was it?