Penelope's Web

by Christopher Rush

  ‘God almighty!’

  He drew back his arm.

  ‘If I can’t make you, maybe this fucking will!’

  I turned as he flung the heavy stool. It hit me hard on the right shoulder and bit into the bone. Melanthius clapped his hands and roared approval.

  ‘Oh, well done, Antinous, you got the old bastard at last! Next throw’s mine. And I’ll crush his fucking skull if he still hasn’t learned to shut up!’

  Nobody else joined in, though, and I took advantage of the moment of silence.

  ‘Well, in spite of your treatment of me, I wish you well, sir, especially with your marriage plans – though I have an idea you’ll be dead before your wedding day.’

  The goatherd gasped and picked up his own stool.

  ‘The old bugger! Did you hear that, Antinous? Did everyone hear what he just said? Fucking impudence! Now he’s for it!’

  But Antinous sensed the ebbing of support and checked him.

  ‘Never mind, Melanthius, don’t let him get to you. I can see now he’s half mad. But as for you, old man, you’d better grab what you can if it keeps your trap shut. I’m warning you, being crazy won’t excuse you or allow you any more freedom of speech. You’ve stretched our patience enough as it is. One more word, and you’ll be taken out and flayed from head to foot.’

  ‘Flayed alive,’ gloated Melanthius. ‘I’ll see to it personally. And I’ll take my time over it. Slowly does it for you. The dogs will be licking your blood long before the life’s gone out of you. That’s before I rub the salt into your raw hide – a whole barrel. And I won’t waste a drop. What doesn’t salt your carcass I’ll stuff down your gob. And if you need a drink before you die, I’ll piss up your nostrils!’

  This drew a couple of laughs, but everybody wanted to eat.

  Telemachus brought me over some fresh food and asked in a whisper if I was all right.

  ‘Never better. Enjoying the meal. And enjoying myself even more making a mental list. Antinous tops it, and the goatman comes a close second. There won’t be long between them.’

  Eumaeus came over and said that word of Antinous’s assault on me had reached Penelope, and she sent her apologies. Clearly, she had lost all control.

  Did she also request that I join her upstairs in her private apartments? She must have done, since there I am, a bundle of black rags sitting on a cushion, close to a scented queen – a cosy if unlikely twosome in her chamber, a good scene for the loom. On the other hand the word would have got to her by now that the stranger downstairs had tramped the world, Egypt and Crete, seen action at Troy, fought at her husband’s side, heard news of him in Thesprotia. What wife wouldn’t want to speak to such a man? Assuming she believed a single word of it, a syllable of hope spoken by a thing of shreds and tatters, begging for a crust. What wife indeed. So up on the web she went, and the stranger with her.

  Downstairs, I sat on quietly, picking from my plate. I had plenty of food for thought. Telemachus left me with a secret wink, and Eumaeus finished his own meal and left for the farm. In the failing daylight, the drinking and singing and dancing carried on, and quickly turned into an orgy. The whores came down and lifted their skirts, bending their bare arses over the tables for the benefit of the young bloods. Proposing marriage to the woman upstairs and fucking her maids down below: they had turned the palace into a brothel. I saw the last rays of light splash the courtyard behind me, and I gloried for a moment in the sunset’s red wreckage. I told myself the sun would only go down on their depravity one more time. But even as it set for the day, there was one more ugly scene to be played out in the palace hall.

  FIFTY-FOUR

  Enter Arnaeus, nicknamed Irus, a dogsbody to the palace suitors, also a vagrant of no fixed abode. He was a thug who didn’t so much beg as bully his way through the streets of Ithaca. People paid up at the very sight of him, frightened to be accosted. There were plenty of broken noses to advise charity as the best course of action, even though it was obvious that he stood in no need of charity and could have worked for a living if he could have been arsed. He couldn’t. He was a big bastard, built like an ox, so it seemed, and he had an appetite to match, both for eating and drinking.

  Work? Why the fuck should I work? Why work when I can live on the handouts I get? If they won’t give it to me, I’ll kick it out of them. And if they still won’t pay, I’ll kick the shite out of them instead.

  Can work, won’t work was his motto. He relied on his appearance to earn him a living, the irony being that the appearance was deceptive. He was nowhere near as strong as he looked and lacked grit. He was a coward and a weakling in disguise, a typical bully. And this was the character who darkened the threshold where I still sat. He came swaggering in and went straight on the offensive.

  ‘And who the fuck might you be? Get lost, old-timer, or you’ll be heaved out by the ankle and you’ll end up on your head. Go on, scram! Can’t you see them tipping me the wink? This is my patch, and I don’t want you pissing on it. Off you scoot now before I kick you up your bony arse and lay you out cold!’

  I looked up, taking the measure of the cunt. All bone and no backbone. A gutless tough. I decided it would be fun to play along.

  ‘That’s not much of a greeting, friend, especially when I’ve neither said nor done anything to harm you. We’re both beggars, I take it. Well then, I’m sure this threshold is big enough for both of us, wouldn’t you say? If not, all I ask is that you think long and hard before you call me out. Because if you do, I’d better warn you, I’ll give you a hair-colouring and a face-colouring too. You’ll end up dyed in your own blood. How would that suit you?’

  Irus gaped in disbelief.

  ‘What? Fighting talk? From a beaten-up old bum like you? God above, I’m going to fucking kill you! And I’ll tell you how it will start off. A right from me, followed by a left – and you’ll be spitting out whatever teeth you’ve got left in those mumbling old jaws of yours, you jabbering old idiot! After that, I’m going to mash you to a pulp for puppies to eat. Now tuck up your rags, grandfather, and I’ll show you how a real man can fight. We’re going to give these gentlemen some entertainment.’

  ‘You mean you’re going to earn your dinner for a change? I’d like to see you try!’

  Everybody got up laughing and clapping and clearing away the tables, making a quick ring round us. Irus was already prancing around the circle, showing off his puny biceps and punching the air. Antinous was ecstatic.

  ‘Hey, fellows, we really are in luck tonight! A boxing match laid on out of the blue. Irus versus the old idiot – what a hoot! It’s hilarious. It’s irresistible. Not only that, but now I don’t have to get rid of the old bag of rags myself – Irus is going to do it for us! Still, let’s be fair and offer a prize, make a night of it, what do you say?’

  Huge cheering and applause.

  ‘A prize! A prize!’

  ‘What’ll it be?’

  ‘I’ll tell you what,’ said Antinous, ‘you see these goats’ paunches roasting over there? They’re well stuffed with blood and fat for our supper. I say that the winner gets first pick of these. Seconded?’

  Roars of approval.

  ‘And what’s more, he gets to join us for dinner every night from now on, and all other beggars are to be excluded. Seconded?’

  ‘Seconded! Seconded!’

  Antinous came over to me.

  ‘Well, old relic, I reckon your long tongue has done for you at last. You’ve just about dug your own grave. Irus is going to kick the shit out of you.’

  I nodded and spread my arms wide, looking rueful.

  ‘I know. There’s not much sense in a match like this. I don’t know what came over me just now. I went too far, as usual. It’s as you say, I seem to suffer from a long tongue. I don’t suppose there’s any getting out of it now, is there?’

  ‘Too late! Too late!’

  The loud negatives and headshakings were followed by uproarious applause as Irus tucked up his clothes and flurried t
he air with punches. The ring of men urged me on.

  ‘Hurry up, hoary arse, don’t keep us waiting! Show us what you’re made of!’

  ‘Old skin and bone!’

  ‘It’s only his rags that’s holding him together! Take them off and he’ll fucking fall apart!’

  I tucked the rags around my middle and bared my chest and thighs, arms and shoulders. Gasps went round the hall.

  ‘Fucking hell, will you look at that? The old bugger’s built like a fucking champion beneath all that shit. We really are in luck, lads – we’ve got a fight on after all. Irus may have met his match!’

  Irus was already looking white-faced.

  ‘Fuck me, friends, let’s forget it – how was I to know the old bastard was built like that?’

  ‘Yes, but you’re half his age, so it’s an even fight.’

  ‘Look, I’ll tell you what, just for tonight I’ll let the old fellow have the paunches, and I’ll make do with what I can get.’

  He tried to withdraw, but the suitors were having none of it. The ring of spectators forced him back into the centre.

  ‘Back you go!’ shouted Antinous. ‘You started it, and by god you’re going to give us a fight. And if you lose, by the way, I’m going to have you shipped off to Echetus. Heard of him? He’s a maniac. He’ll rip your cock off, balls and all, to give to his dogs. Nose and ears to boot, got it? Now get in there and fucking fight!’

  Irus was shaking all over. He put his fists up and stood facing me, petrified. It was going to be like knocking over a statue. I considered killing him outright but decided that would be overdoing it. In any case, I didn’t want to reveal my full strength and arouse any suspicion, so when he threw his first fist I landed a crushing punch on his neck, just below the ear. I felt the give beneath my fist – the bones being smashed in. The crunch was audible too as the jaw shattered. Everybody gasped. The blood gushed up into his mouth and came bubbling out as he opened wide, groaning and spitting, then he fell back grinding his teeth and drumming the dust with his heels. The rabble fell about laughing.

  I wasn’t done with him. I grabbed him by the ankle and yanked him out all the way across the courtyard to the gate. I propped him up against the wall, shoved his stick into his limp paw and warned him.

  ‘Now sit there and fucking behave yourself! And that’s not all. You’re being given a job to do for the first time in your useless fucking life. I want you to keep the pigs and dogs away with that ugly mug of yours – that’s your employment from now on. See to it, and there might be a crust for you, if you can still swallow. Fail, and you starve. If I see one swine or canine get past you, I’ll come back and give you a proper thrashing. And next time I’ll finish you off. If you as much as move from that spot, I’ll crush your skull, got it?

  His act was over, but he still had an audience. The suitors had followed us out to view the finale and they trooped back inside giving me loud cheers.

  ‘Well done, old Atlas, you’ve just fucked up the worst glutton in town and the laziest scrounger in Ithaca. But he’s off to Echetus now, eh, Antinous?’

  Antinous had expected to see me murdered by this time, and he now had no option but to present me with the biggest paunch, hot and dripping from the fire. With better grace, Amphinomous selected a couple of whole loaves for me and raised his golden cup.

  ‘Here’s to better health, my friend, and better days ahead for you.’

  He handed me the cup.

  ‘And for you too,’ I said. ‘For you too – I hope to god!’

  He looked at me curiously.

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  I hesitated.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  I decided to give him a chance.

  ‘Amphinomous, I appreciate your decency. And if you can take an old man’s advice, here it is. We human beings, we’re a pathetic lot, aren’t we? As long as things are going our way we never stop to think that there might be hard times ahead. But there always are – because that’s our life, isn’t it, sunlight and shadow? Right now, you’re enjoying the good life along with these bloodsuckers who’re living at the expense of an absent king. But what happens when the king comes back? Some say he’s dead, but from what I’ve heard he’s not only alive but is nearer to you than you know, and so is the day of reckoning. You strike me as not a bad man yourself, not at heart. So, for your sake, I hope you’ll see fit to get out while you can. Go home, I’m begging you, before it’s too late, before you have to face that man on the day he walks in here. As walk in he will, like a lion into his lair. That day will be a bloody day for that lot, and when the meeting’s over, I don’t imagine there’ll be one of them left alive to wish they’d heard this warning of mine. You’ve heard it, sir. Take heed of it: that’s all I ask, and take my advice – as easily as you take back this cup.’

  I drank up and gave him back the cup. He looked sadly into the empty circle of gold.

  ‘Who are you, old man?’

  ‘I’m your conscience.’

  ‘Right. And you pack a punch like a boxer, and you talk like an orator. But why should you be concerned for me? You don’t know me.’

  ‘I know you’re not tarred with the same brush as that rabble. And I know there’s going to be a bloodbath here – I can feel it in my waters. Odysseus is close, and there’s no way he’s going to part from these men without a terrible loss of life. For the last time, I’m begging you – leave, leave now, leave that lot to their fate, and don’t share it. You don’t have to.’

  I looked as hard as I could into his eyes, willing him to get up and go. But he went back to join the others and sat down on his chair. He sat heavily, shaking his head and filled with the foreboding I’d deliberately instilled into him – but still he didn’t listen. The moment he left me and walked back to the chair he’d settled his own destiny. It was the wrong end of a spear.

  Destiny belongs on the web. Life itself, as they say, is a tapestry.

  And so Pallas Athene now put it into the head of Penelope to leave her lofty apartment and descend like a goddess on the hall, with the dual effect of fanning the fever of the romantic rabble and enhancing her beauty in the eyes of the disguised husband, thus putting these two parties into increased opposition and bringing the conflict closer.

  She turned to her housekeeper with a little laugh. ‘You know, Euronyme, I don’t know why, but I feel a sudden urge to go down and pay these lovers of mine a courtesy visit.’

  ‘I thought you detested them?’

  ‘I do. But still I want them to see me. Don’t ask me why.’

  ‘Well then, you’d better tidy yourself up. Just look at these tear-stained cheeks. Let’s get you ready.’

  ‘No, Euronyme! What, preen myself for those men? Absolutely not.’

  But Pallas Athene thought differently.

  And so Penelope feels now so suddenly drowsy that her body droops like a flower heavy with rain, and she sinks down onto her couch and falls into a divinely contrived sleep. The goddess gets busy. She is using a heavenly cosmetic like the one Cythereia applies when she puts on her crown and dances with the Graces, her skin whiter than ivory, her breasts voluptuous, her stature tall and imposing. And then the white-armed maids appear to conduct Penelope downstairs, and she awakes and rises like Aphrodite from the sea to stun the suitors into a heightened state of amazement and desire.

  Eurymachus speaks for all of them.

  ‘You look as if Pallas Athene had just wafted over you with her wand. If all the Achaeans in Ionian Argos could see you now, no palace in the world could contain the gathering of lovers that would compete for your hand, for there isn’t a woman in the world to touch you.’

  The fair Penelope, as modest as she is wise, brushes that compliment aside.

  ‘Well, I don’t know about that, but I do know I have just enjoyed a most refreshing sleep. And sleep, as we all know, is a great beautifier, so any beauty you may perceive in me must be the work of Morpheus and not Aphrodite. All the same, I could h
ave wished that it had been the sweet sleep not of Athene but of Artemis, and that one of her gentle arrows had prevented me from wasting my days beyond today, sitting alone as always, and languishing in tears for the man who was the glory of Greece.’

  Every man present at that moment wishes he could take that man’s place, little realising that the man himself is sitting among them, watching their every move, weighing their every word, storing it all up to hold against them when their hour should come.

  ‘In the meantime,’ continues Penelope, ‘I take a dim view of the maltreatment of that stranger sitting over there. What happened, according to the report that reached my ears, was a disgrace to this house.’

  ‘It was, mother,’ says Telemachus, ‘and I was powerless to prevent it, but I can at least assure you that things did not fall out as Antinous had hoped and expected. That useless hulking bully, Irus, is even now propped up against the courtyard wall close to the gates. He’s hanging his ugly head, and not because he’s drunk as usual, but because he lacks the bones to support it. They’ve been crushed by a single punch from that same stranger, and I doubt if he’ll even manage to make his way back out into the street, let alone live. And if he does live, begging’s all that’s left for him. I must say, I’d love to see your suitors scattered about the courtyard in a similar situation. That would cool their ardour.’

  Eurymachus stands up.

  ‘That was uncalled for, sir. It’s an entirely unfriendly line of talk and an insult to your guests.’

  ‘It would be – if I had guests. But I don’t. I didn’t ask for your company. As I recall, you’re simply uninvited spongers, that’s all.’

  Eurymachus remains calm. ‘Still, you must admit that you can’t blame us for your mother’s beauty. Here she is, a widow for all this time and in need of a husband to look after her estate, and she comes down tonight to grace us with her presence, looking like a goddess. A man’s not made of stone, you know. And as I’ve said already, if every Greek man could see her, this house would be thronged with suitors, and we’d have to extend tomorrow’s feast out into the courtyard.’