Chapter Text
Eventually, Odysseus and his crew spotted another island full of grazing goats. The crew eagerly anchored the ship and rushed to the goats, their mouths greedy for the fresh meat. Odysseus's own mouth watered at the thought of meat instead of hard bread, or fish at the most. In fact, this island would be a wonderful place for him to start a new life.
Still, Odysseus stepped onto the island warily, checking as far as his eyes could see. Would native islanders soon appear? Would he turn into a killer again?
The crew killed the goats and roasted them in fires. The meat filled the air of the island until Odysseus could think of nothing except sinking his teeth into the cooked goats. They all feasted and gorged themselves on the meat throughout the night, while singing songs of the end of the war.
As the songs continued, Odysseus's stomach shifted. He surveyed the area for natives again. How long would this peace continue? Every time he heard a noise in the distance, Odysseus would turn his head, whether it was just the wind or a creak in the distant mountains.
It got to the point where he could no longer enjoy the tasty goat meat. Never mind the possibility of starting a new life on this island. "We need to return to the ship," he told his crew firmly as they still feasted.
The men groaned. Odysseus wished they could understand he was trying to protect them, too from what might happen if he turned into a killer. "We're having a great time!...The meat is great…We haven't even explored the island yet…Look a cave…" But he supposed it was something only a man blessed by Athena could understand.
At least this time, they walked willingly back to the ship, and Odysseus slept soundly.
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But the next morning, Odysseus woke up to an empty ship. And with his quick brain, he knew exactly where his men had gone. That cave they were so curious about the night before.
Sighing, Odysseus approached the cave and found his men staring at lush sheep and goats as they peeked through the cave. A man lived in the cave who was in charge of milking the sheep and goats. Odysseus eyed the man. The light was dim here in the cave, making the stranger seem even more mysterious. Would he cause Odysseus to become a killer again?
"Who are you?" the man asked, looking at Odysseus and each of the crew as if they might be criminals.
Odysseus didn't want the stranger to know how close he was to becoming a criminal. A real killer. Especially not as he'd come to this cave to help his men return to the ship. "We're from Troy. Our ship has been destroyed by Poseidon," he said immediately, thanking Athena for helping him think quickly. "You'll have to be nice to us, because Zeus is the stranger's god."
No one would defy the mighty Zeus.
But the man shrugged, moving his shadowy figure through the cave. "That doesn't matter. The cyclopes who rule this island don't care about Zeus."
Odysseus's stomach dropped at that, as the cyclopes thundered into the cave, munching on anything and everything.
He'd rather face Paris again than the possibility of giant cyclopes. Some of the crew screamed.
But there they were. Giant cyclopes, complete with the one eye they were said to have, sleeping at the foot of the cave, after they'd eaten too much. Worse, some of Odysseus's crew was missing. His stomach dropped to his shoes as he realized the cyclopes ate more than just the goats and sheep.
Anger and fear swirled inside Odysseus as he thought of the cyclopes shoving his men into their mouths, despite their screams. A killer may live inside Odysseus, but he would never do such a thing. He had to save the rest of his crew with his brain.
"Carry one of the sheep on the top of your heads to get out of this cave," he said into each of their ears.
After all of the men who were still alive picked up sheep, Athena blessed Odysseus with an idea of how he could leave the cave. He presented the cyclopes with wine, saying it was a stranger's gift from "no man." But the wine was stronger than most and should make the monster sick.
The cyclopes, or even his own crew, had no idea how accurate that statement was. Ever since Odysseus had left Troy, he'd felt like he was no one. It was exactly why he could never return to his wife and son.
But even though Odysseus was no one, he could still drive a stake into the drugged cyclops's eye on behalf of his crewmates.
Immediately, the cave exploded with blood as the eye popped out. The scent of blood was even more overpowering than the sea of blood Odysseus had caused on the other island. Or even all the blood that had been spilled on Troy.
But this time, Odysseus didn't feel guilty. Nor did he worry about turning into a killer because of the smell of blood. On the contrary, he reveled in all the blood the cyclopes lost and was ready to drive the stake into the monster again and again.
Only the sight of the last of his men sneaking out of the cave with a sheep on his head stopped him.
But Odysseus couldn't just leave. His own blood still burned when he thought of the cyclopes eating some of his crew. So, he told the monster to "tell everyone that it was Odysseus of Ithaca that took out the eye."
It wasn't as if he would ever return to Ithaca, anyway.
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While Telemachus still waited eagerly for Odysseus to return to Ithaca, Penelope began spending more time working on the new trade agreements. Ithaca needed grain, as always. But although the war was over, they also needed metal. Ten years of war with Troy had drained all of Ithaca's copper and gold, leading the smithers with nothing.
"My queen the fires have been empty for months," said an old metalsmith. He limped towards Penelope's throne, reminding her of Hephaestus. "I need copper and gold to work."
Penelope's heart stung as she saw the man's worn, wrinkly face and grey beard. Somehow, he appeared older than her father-in-law, although she knew Lartes had to be growing in years, as he wasn't young when she met him. But Lartes had bright eyes whenever he saw her or Telemachus and found peace and purpose in caring for the Ithacan sheep. Her father-in-law also had full use of his legs.
The man in front of her had sad eyes that searched for meaning and found nothing.
"Forget about copper and gold," a woman said, almost pushing the man out of the way. The poor man stumbled backwards because of his limp. Penelope's mouth dropped open at the sight of a woman attacking a man, but no one else paid attention. Certainly, the man was old and weak, but this was Ithaca, not Sparta. Women were expected to be feminine here, not to act like brutes.
Had the men truly been gone so long that the women forgot how to be proper ladies?
"We need grain, or my children will go hungry." The woman appeared around Penelope's age, but the expression on her face made Penelope feel like a wayward child. Penelope sat up straight on her throne and met the woman's eyes, but the woman's motivation made more sense. Perhaps the other woman hadn't become a brute but was simply worried about her children.
A mother would do anything for her child. Images of herself waiting for Odysseus's ship with Telemachus day after day flashed through her mind.
"Both metal and grain will be available as soon as possible," Penelope said with the authority of a queen.
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Searching for grain was relatively easy. Penelope sent messages to several other Greek kingdoms, and more than one agreed to trade grain for Ithacan wool. Relief filled her heart as she pictured the mother who'd confronted her on the throne, as well as countless other mothers, feeding their children with good-quality bread.
Though Telemachus would never go hungry as a prince, Penelope knew he would benefit from fresh grain as well. Especially as all of his energy was still on waiting for the return of his father.
Finding gold and copper was much harder, as all of the Greek kingdoms were low on such supplies after the war. Penelope sent messages to Athens, Thebes, Crete, and countless others, but they all said the same thing. "We have no copper or gold to spare." Not in return for fine Ithacan wool or even if Penelope offered to weave them tapestries or cloaks. Not even Penelope's family in Sparta would assist her.
Some queens might say it was a lost cause, but not Penelope. She couldn't stop thinking of the poor old man's face, deprived of his purpose without his metals. He'd already lost full use of his legs. How could she tell him he couldn't have his metals, either? And patience had always been one of her assets. She'd keep asking and wait for the copper and gold.
Through her messages, Penelope eventually heard something horrible. Her cousin, Clytemnestra had killed her husband Agamenon.
Penelope almost choked on her bread when she heard that. She'd known Clytemnestra had always been a strong Spartan woman who'd won more than one contest in the Olympic Games. Penelope was certain, Clytemnestra was almost as tough as her husband Agamenon. But killing?
"Mother?" Telemachus said to her from across the breakfast table, after swallowing his own bread. "Are you all right?"
Heart swelling as she looked at her son despite her horror, Penelope smiled. "Don't worry about me, son."
Was this what could happen if one married someone without any of Aphrodite's spells at all? She thought as her mind returned to Clytemnestra and Agamemnon.
No matter what happened between her and Odysseus, Penelope knew that they would never kill each other. They were better than that. Weren't they? Smiling, she picked up another piece of bread.
Of course, none of that mattered if Odysseus never returned to Ithaca. Penelope shouldn't want that. But she did.