Odysseus: The Oath

by Valerio Massimo Manfredi

  ‘Atta, first of all I need to understand. Why did you decide to turn over your sceptre? You are at the peak of your energy and experience, and I didn’t want to become king. How could I desire such a thing while you are so strong and can govern the kingdom with such a steady hand? Sitting on the throne while you no longer enjoy the prestige due a sovereign makes me feel unworthy.’

  ‘I know. I understand you. But it was necessary. Many things have happened. King Adrastus of Argus, having no male heirs of his own, has given over the throne to his grandson, Diomedes, whom you’ve met. It’s not easy to understand why, but I believe that Diomedes is convinced that where the Seven failed, he and his comrades can succeed in re-establishing the prestige of Argus. Diomedes is bent on waging war on Thebes to avenge his father, but only a king can declare war.

  ‘In Mycenae, Agamemnon has banished his uncle and for all practical purposes is already acting as king. To think that just three years ago no one had even heard of him and now he is one of the most important sovereigns, if not the most important, in all Achaia. Do you see what I mean? And that’s not all. Tyndareus, in Sparta, is anguish-stricken: Castor and Pollux seem to have disappeared. He has had no news of his twin sons, who once fought by my side, for months now. They departed on a trip to the north without giving any reasons for going, and they have not returned. As you know, they were the heirs to their father’s throne, and everyone is gravely worried that this will make the kingdom of Sparta unstable. For the time being, the palace has managed to keep the secret and the people have been reassured about their absence. But if the situation doesn’t change, Menelaus, Helen’s husband, will succeed Tyndareus. At least that’s what people are saying and that’s what I know to be true.

  ‘Do you realize what that means? It means that Menelaus and Agamemnon together will have a power greater than anyone else in Achaia. The entire southern peninsula will be in the hands of a new generation of young sovereigns, and we have to be equal to the other royal families. That’s why I left you the sceptre and the throne. But don’t worry, son. I have no intention of disappearing. I’ll always be here to support you with my counsel and my arms, if need be. But I’m sure that won’t be necessary. We enjoy a secluded, tranquil position here and we are everyone’s friends. We are the sentry of Achaia on this side. And there is nothing on the horizon that need worry us.’ He patted my shoulder. ‘Rest easy, pai, all will go well. And remember, even if you are King Odysseus for the people of our island, for me you’re still my boy and that’s how I intend to treat you!’

  He embraced me, the hero Laertes, my father, and for a moment I felt like a little boy again.

  THERE WERE a great number of obligations involved in my coming to power, even if our kingdom was a small one. First of all, Penelope and I had to visit all of our islands. I had already met the noblemen who had come the day of my succession and had kissed my hand. Many of them were my father’s age, but others were younger. My father knew everything there was to know about each one of them, and when they had been introduced to me at the palace, he greeted them fondly first and then whispered into my ear what he really thought of them. Now that I was meeting them again in their own homes and palaces, it became clear to me that even as they rendered me homage, their gestures of deference were always accompanied by a certain show of power. It was obvious that my kingdom would last for as long as I could prove that I was stronger than they were. No one would even consider challenging me or rebelling against me if that remained clear. And so I travelled without guards.

  None of my friends lived on the surrounding islands; they were all Ithacans. I soon realized that as we journeyed from one island to another it was a shortcoming. It was better to have friends, people you could count on, all over your territory. At the end of our travels, when we left Same to cross the channel that separated it from Ithaca, I felt satisfied. The islands were peaceful, people lived a good life, and the noblemen had been given the chance to see for themselves that my father had made a wise choice. Most of them were certainly loyal to him. Many of them had followed him on his exploits and had witnessed for themselves that Laertes had always been the first to put himself in harm’s way.

  After I had reigned for six months, Telemachus had started to say his first words, but for a while only Argus could understand him. Penelope played with him every moment she was free from palace duties. I would have liked to join her, but I supposed that a king must show a certain detachment from human feelings. One evening I formally invited my father to dinner. I told him that I’d decided to visit my grandfather in Acarnania and that he would have to sit on the throne to administer justice and receive guests – that is, to replace me during my absence from the palace.

  Mentor was not with us but on the mainland announcing my succession. No one knew when he would return; we were well aware of what delight he took in such duties and in the elaborate protocol of the courts. And most of all, in dealing directly with queens and kings, princes and princesses. I had given him gifts to deliver personally to Achilles, Diomedes, Ajax of Salamis and Ajax Oileus, Eumelus, Nestor’s son Antilochus, Menelaus and his brother Agamemnon, the king of Mycenae.

  ‘Why do you want to visit your grandfather?’ asked my father.

  ‘I haven’t seen him for a long time.’

  ‘No one visits the Wolf of Acarnania without a very precise reason.’

  I was silent for the amount of time it took me to cut a piece of calf’s liver and put it on his plate.

  ‘Well?’ he insisted.

  ‘I’ll tell you if you promise not to tell mother.’

  ‘You sound like a child. In any case, I won’t tell.’

  ‘On my last visit, he told me that it would be the last time we saw each other, not through any fault of his own, but mine.’

  ‘So you want to show him he was wrong. That you can reverse his prophecy, change the course of fate? You’re mad, pai.’

  ‘No, I just want to show him that one person is determined to see another . . . Fate has nothing to do with it.’

  ‘He’s capable of refusing to receive you, if only to prove that he was right.’

  ‘Fine. As long as he’s happy, so am I.’

  ‘I’ll stand in for you, but don’t stay away long. There are chores that need doing: I have to sow the broad beans, shear the sheep, chop the wood for this winter . . . or simply idle about. It’s a fine life, I’ve found. I quite enjoy it.’

  ‘I won’t be gone long, atta.’

  We sat up until late, talking and drinking wine. The next day I gave orders to prepare my ship so I could set sail before the new moon, but just two days before my departure, a messenger announced that a ship had arrived from the mainland, flying the Spartan flag. My father was present and he frowned upon hearing the announcement, then gave me a worried look.

  ‘Why that look? Sparta’s our friend; we have nothing to fear.’

  ‘Sparta is Helen’s city, and you know what that means. Mark my words, your grandfather is never wrong.’

  ‘What shall we do, go to the port to receive them?’

  My father hesitated a moment before answering: ‘No. We’ll wait for them here at home. Don your judicial robes. You are the king.’

  I had my servants dress me and sent them to call for the queen. Penelope soon arrived in all of her beauty, wearing a light blue linen gown sashed at the waist with a black wool band fringed with threads of gold. A veil of the same colour as her gown was pinned to her hair with an orichalch clasp. She sat to my left. Twelve warriors in shining bronze armour joined us, lining up six on each side of the throne. My father sat on a stool of olive wood laminated in gold, placed at the bottom of the steps, a position of honour for he who had been the king and still enjoyed all the privileges of his rank.

  A wave of agitation flew through the entire court at the news that Mentor had been on the ship and that he was making his way to the palace using a shortcut. He soon arrived, panting and sweaty, and blurted out: ‘King Odysseus, King Menelaus
of Sparta is ascending to the palace and asks to be received.’

  ‘King of Sparta?’ My father’s prophecy had come true even sooner that we had thought it could. I tried to meet his eyes and saw behind his troubled gaze the thousands of thoughts flitting through his mind, none of them good. Penelope looked at me with foreboding as well. I motioned for Mentor to come closer and asked in a low voice: ‘What’s behind this sudden visit?’

  ‘Something terrible has happened,’ replied Mentor quietly. ‘Helen has been abducted.’ Penelope and I gave a start, shocked at such an unexpected revelation, and exchanged a look of utter dismay.

  Abducted. Suddenly my kingdom, the peace of Achaia, my family and my home, all happy up until that very moment, were in grave danger. I wanted to ask him more but the arrival of the king of Sparta was already being announced, and the courtyard rang out with the pounding of heavy steps. A herald entered first and declaimed: ‘Menelaus, son of Atreus and king of Sparta, asks to be received by Odysseus, son of Laertes and king of Ithaca!’

  I stood and walked towards him to embrace him. Menelaus was strikingly handsome, tall and wide-shouldered, his long red hair gathered at the nape of his neck by a leather string. He was clad in shining bronze armour but the expression on his face was grim, almost scowling. As I clasped him to me, I thought of what Mentor had just said. Abducted? How could that be? Who would be so mad as to abduct the queen of Sparta? Might she have got it into her head to flee on her own? That seemed quite possible to me: she was as unpredictable as she was beautiful.

  We stood facing each other: two young kings who occupied thrones that perhaps neither of us had desired. Penelope stepped up then, and hugged Menelaus. Pretending to know nothing she greeted him warmly: ‘Cousin! What a pleasure to have you here in our home. Have you brought news of my father?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Menelaus told her, ‘but the news I bring is not good. It’s not about your father; it’s your uncle, Tyndareus, who has died. A sudden illness took his life . . .’

  ‘King Menelaus will certainly stay with us for some days,’ I said to Penelope. ‘I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to talk about your father. But I fear he brings other news no less distressing than that of Tyndareus’ death. Could you please have rooms prepared for the king of Sparta and his retinue and arrange for dinner to be served for us in the Hall of the Argonauts?’ That was what we called a room set away from the others where my father had had the Argo portrayed on one of the walls as she weighed anchor and set sail from Iolcus. The ship’s figurehead was the goddess Hera and Prince Jason was standing at the prow. It was the room the king favoured for confidential meetings with his guests. It was he I was thinking of when I said to Menelaus in a low, unceremonious tone: ‘From your forthright manner and the look in your eye I take it that this is anything but a visit of courtesy. Would you mind if I invited King Laertes my father to have dinner with us? He is a wise man and has a wealth of experience. He may be of help to us.’

  ‘I would be honoured to have dinner with King Laertes,’ Menelaus replied.

  ‘Please follow us,’ I said to Menelaus. I led the way to the hall. I felt there was no time for ceremony or protocol. As far as I could see, he hadn’t even brought the customary gifts exchanged at such moments of hospitality. A sure sign that he’d left in a hurry, and with great urgency, I thought, rather than a sign of the proverbial arrogance of the Atreides brothers.

  Penelope had us served roast kid, sheep’s cheese and red wine. The servants placed the food before us, bowed and disappeared.

  ‘What has happened, Menelaus? What brings you to Ithaca?’ I asked as I cut him a piece of meat.

  ‘Helen has been abducted.’

  ‘When?’ I asked.

  My father’s blue eyes had darkened like the sea under a stormy sky.

  ‘Fifteen days ago. I was in Phocis visiting my sister Anaxibia. I am told that while I was away a ship from Troy put ashore one day at Gythium, our port. Aboard the ship was Prince Paris, son of King Priam. A courtesy call, I suppose, but not just that, certainly. Priam must have wanted to gather information about the situation in Achaia, where so much has changed recently. In my absence, it was the elders who received Paris and listened to what he had to say.’

  ‘And what did he have to say?’

  ‘That has no importance,’ he replied curtly. ‘That bastard violated my house and my hospitality. He has dishonoured me in the eyes of the whole world. You, Odysseus, can vouch that we princes solemnly swore a pact, in the presence of King Tyndareus and in the name of the gods of the Underworld. That’s why I’m here. You are the guarantor of that oath and it’s your responsibility to make sure it is respected. You must summon all those who swore to defend not only my own honour, but the honour of all Achaia. If any foreigner can get away with carrying off our wives and not be punished for it, that means that the fate of this land is sealed. I want to strangle that bastard with my bare hands, raze his city to the ground, exterminate his people and drag the women of Troy, every last one of them, back here to Achaia, to sell them off as slaves and concubines . . .’

  ‘Wait, my boy,’ said my father with a tone and a timbre of voice that commanded respect and attention. Menelaus turned towards him. His expression was sullen but there was a ferocious, deranged glint in his eye. He looked ready to tear into anyone who didn’t happen to be Laertes, the hero of the Argonauts, friend of Hercules, Telamon and Peleus, and master of the house he found himself in. He halted his tirade, nodded, and let my father continue with what he was saying.

  ‘War is always a catastrophe. Everyone loses in war, some more and some less. A kingdom is deprived of its king and princes for months, or even years; its best men are forced to leave. Many fall and never return. Each of the contenders is certain of victory when he first sets out, unaware that the outcome is, sadly, never certain. For one thing, powerful allies may intervene, completely over-turning the course of a war even at the very last minute. And even then it is not finished. He who is defeated swears revenge, calling upon friends and allies, invoking the gods themselves.

  ‘War can only be the final solution, when everything else has already been attempted in order to obtain the desired result. It’s never right to sacrifice thousands of young men in the prime of life to placate the anger of a prince, no matter how justified that may be. Heed my words, my boy: a king is the father of his people and he cannot plot to bring about the death of his sons, unless it is absolutely impossible to avoid conflict.’

  I could see that Menelaus was about to say something that would offend my father and put me in an impossible situation. I stepped in just in time: ‘What do you suggest he do, then, father? We cannot imagine that the king of Sparta would suffer a similar insult without reacting.’

  Menelaus was momentarily placated by my words and he considered my father with an expression that could have been diffidence but might have been curiosity.

  King Laertes spoke: ‘Go to Troy, the two of you, immediately. You, Menelaus, and you, my son. Make a show of benevolence; tell Priam that you know that behind his son’s ill-considered act are a people who have done no harm: men, women, old people and children who seek to live in peace and whose lives would be cut short or forever ruined by a war. Menelaus will demand, simply, that Helen be returned to him. If the king should refuse, you will speak to him, Odysseus. I’m sure you will find a way to convince him to avoid the grief and destruction of a war. Remind him of the blood ties that join him to the Achaians: the King of Troy’s sister is married to Telamon of Salamis. If Priam still refuses, ask to speak to him in private; that will make things easier for you.’

  I turned to my guest: ‘What do you think, Menelaus?’

  ‘You would do this for me?’ he asked me in turn.

  ‘I would do it for you, for myself, for my family. I would do it because it’s the right thing to do and because I trust in the wisdom and experience of my father.’

  ‘When will you be ready to leave?’

  �
�In ten days’ time I’ll leave for Gythium.’

  ‘In ten days’ time. From this moment on, consider me a true friend, Odysseus.’

  We embraced and each of us retired to our rooms for the night.

  None of us had so much as touched our food.

  18

  TEN DAYS PASSED IN A MOMENT, and it was time for me to leave Ithaca, Penelope and Telemachus. My heart ached but my eyes were dry; I was learning to act like a king. I embraced both of them together and it was agony to break away. I couldn’t say a word. It was my wife who broke the silence: ‘Are you taking many warriors with you? You may run into danger down there.’

  ‘No. He who brings warriors brings war, and that’s just what I’m trying to prevent. For a mission like this, you either leave with an invincible army or you go alone. When it’s time to meet the king, we’ll go alone, with our heralds. Priam is a wise old king. He rules over a wealthy city: all the ships that pass through the straits have to pay taxes to him. Many of our own ships have helped to line his coffers. It won’t be a problem for him to offer reparation for his son’s reckless act. He’ll return Helen and this will all be over. I’ll be back in a month’s time. But every day I’m away I’ll be thinking of you.’

  ‘Take the dog with you,’ Penelope urged. ‘Animals can sense danger; he’ll be able to warn you.’

  ‘No . . . Argus is so attached to our little boy, and Telemachus would be miserable without him. They’re always playing together.’

  ‘Come back to me as soon as you can, Odysseus. Come back to sleep at my side in the bed you’ve built in the branches of the olive tree. Come back to breathe in my arms. Every day that goes by without you will be a grey day.’

  ‘If I can manage to avoid a war, the day of my return will be a bright one for all of us. We’ll celebrate here on Ithaca and on all the islands. Athena will help me. I can feel her close to me.’

  I kissed Penelope, so I could take the taste of her lips to sea with me. I let my eyes sink into hers, black as the bottomless deep, and I kissed the son she carried in her arms.