Argos

by Ralph Hardy

  As for me, I find my way to the harbor every day or so, in case there is news from the gulls. This morning I am at my usual post near the harbor when a mangy cur approaches me. I know the dog by sight only—we have never spoken, and she is newly arrived on Ithaka. But she is known around the harbor as a fish eater, and most dogs do not eat fish. Moreover, her lineage is suspect. She is at least ten shades of gray and brown, and her fur is not sleek and thick but wiry and sparse. Pink, scaly skin shows through along her hindquarters, and her eyes are small and runny. Truly, she is misbegotten. So when she says she has something to tell me, I am skeptical. What could a fish-eating mongrel have to say to me? Still, I let her approach.

  “You are Argos, loyal servant to Odysseus, are you not?” the dog asks, without lowering her head or rolling onto her back as a lesser dog might.

  “I am. What do you have to tell me, stranger? And what is your name and lineage so that I may call you properly?”

  This is cruel of me and I regret my words instantly, but the gulls have not come for several days, and I am worried and anxious about my master, so I am not in the frame of mind to be interrogated by a mutt. But she seems to take little offense.

  “You need not know my name nor my lineage, sir. This matter concerns you, not me,” she says without reproach.

  I look at the dog more closely. Her ribs show through her skin and her stomach is shrunken. She is not a handsome dog, to be sure, and she smells as if she slept in fishnets, yet she carries herself well, and her eyes, although no doubt infected, are bright with intelligence.

  “Forgive my manners, friend,” I say. “I am much concerned about my master and forget myself sometimes. Now tell me, what do you wish to say?”

  She steps closer, and it takes all my will not to wrinkle my nose in disgust. “Your master’s son, Telemachos, is in danger,” she says.

  And then she runs away.

  “Wait!” I cry. I bark several times, but she doesn’t stop. Instead, she disappears in the alleys that bisect the harbor. I start to chase after her, but just then a gull flies over my shoulder and lands on the jetty. I run to him. Soon more gulls arrive.

  “What news do you bring, High Flyer?” I demand, keeping an eye on the alley where the dog disappeared. “Have you seen my master?”

  “Not I-I-I, Boar Slayer, but another gull may have. A few days ago, a sister said the fog covering Kalypso’s is-is-island lifted for just a few moments, and she saw a man there, staring out at the sea. Then the fog closed in again, and she saw him no more.”

  A whimper escapes my lips.

  “Be brave, loyal Argos. Your master is the Wi-W-Wily One, is he not? Did he not conquer Troy itself with his cunning? He will escape that i-i-island one day, for surely his fate has yet to be written.”

  “Fate! Fate! Fate!” screech the other gulls.

  “Thank you, White Wing. I will take your counsel. Now, I have another question. You saw me speaking to that dog that just ran away. Can you fly high and look for her? I do not know why she left so suddenly, but she has much to tell me, I think.”

  “I-I-I know where she is, Argos. While you were speaking, a fishing boat came in on the other side-side-side of the harbor. No doubt she heard its bell and ran to meet it. She is a strange dog and eats only fish; the boat brings her dinner. You will find her there, poking through the nets, I-I-I am sure of it.”

  Saying this, the gull spreads its wings and rises above me.

  “Farewell,” he cries.

  “Farewell! Farewell! Farewell!” his flock repeats, pummeling the air with their wings.

  I bark once and then run down along the beach to the other side of the harbor. The gull was right: I find the fish eater gobbling down a baby squid. Fishermen mill about, so I say nothing to her. While I watch, the dog eats two squid and several small fish, including fins and tails. Truly, I have never seen such a thing. Then, when she is satiated, the strange dog looks at me once and then trots back to an alley. I follow her to the entrance of a small temple for a goddess, though I know not who. Finally the dog sits back on her haunches and waits for me to speak.

  “You said my master’s son was in danger, sister. How do you know this? What kind of danger does he face?” I demand.

  But instead of answering me, the strange dog enters the temple, which is just a small building held up by eight columns. In the center lies a bronze bowl for offerings, but there are none. The dog sniffs the bowl and then turns to face me.

  “Please, friend, tell me what plot concerns Telemachos! If he is in danger, I must be there to protect him. That is my duty.”

  “Do you know who this temple is dedicated to, Argos?” the dog asks, ignoring my plea.

  I shake my head, trying to remain calm.

  “I thought as much. It is dedicated to Amphitrite, the sea goddess. Yet no one comes to it, even though the island has many fishermen and sailors. Why is that, Boar Slayer?”

  Her questions are maddening and for a moment my lips curl into a snarl. Was Telemachos not in peril?

  “I do not know, sister. There is a larger temple for Poseidon along the shore. The sailors and fishermen go there to make their offerings to the earth shaker.”

  The strange dog sneezes, and a wave of fish breath sweeps over me.

  And then I know who she is.

  “Yet, this is also a beautiful temple,” I say. “It is not right that no one comes here. I shall lead Telemachos here this very evening, and he will make an offering, I am sure.”

  The strange dog smiles and licks her lips. Her tongue, though, was not pink, but as green as the sea.

  “Goddess,” I say. “Take pity on me, your loyal servant, and tell me who threatens my master’s son. I must know.”

  How that dog’s eyes glow when I say that.

  “Hear me then, Argos, most loyal of dogs,” she says. “There is a suitor by the name of Akakios who plans ill for young Telemachos. Akakios owns many ships, and his plot is to kidnap Telemachos and send him far away by sea. Thinking her son dead, your mistress Penelope will have to choose a husband, since she has no heirs.”

  “How will Akakios ensure that my mistress marries him and not another suitor, for there are many to choose from, cursed be they all?” I ask.

  “The evildoer will tell Penelope during his courtship that he has heard from a sailor that Telemachos lives. If Penelope promises to marry him, then he will send out his entire fleet to find him. What choice will she have?”

  The fur along my back rises, and my ears flatten. Already, though, a plan begins to form in my thoughts.

  “Thank you, Goddess,” I say. “I will keep my promise to you. If I can save Telemachos, many offerings will be made in your honor.”

  I lower my head and lick the dog’s strangely shaped paw. There are webs between her claws.

  “Go now, and quickly, Argos,” the dog goddess says. “Akakios strikes soon.”

  I turn to leave, then stop.

  “Goddess, why do you concern yourself about Telemachos? It must be more than just your empty temple that brought you here to Ithaka, is it not?”

  But the dog is not there. Instead, while my back was turned, she has changed into the shining goddess Amphitrite herself. She is glorious to look upon, and I have to close my eyes.

  “The ways of the gods are not for you to know, Boar Slayer,” she says. “But I will tell you this. My husband, Poseidon, the earth shaker, hates your master and seeks to destroy him. Yet I love my husband not and would see his plans thwarted. I cannot save your master at this time, but I can save his son. That is why I came to you. Now hurry.”

  I turn and run. In a short time I reach my master’s estate, and there I catch my breath and begin fleshing out my plans. Soon I have it. Not for nothing am I the Wily-One’s pet; I will use my master’s trick against my foe.

  CHAPTER XXIII

  What the goose heard

  Last night Father Zeus stormed. Never have I seen such arrows of lightning nor heard thunder as if a thousand
bronze shields were struck at once. The servants in the house extinguished all the candles, not wishing to provoke his anger with their light. The animals bedded down in the barns, and even I took shelter in a cave while I waited for Zeus to find appeasement. Finally rose-colored dawn has come, and the last roll of thunder has abated. Outside I hear a goose calling, so I leave the cave and take the trail down to the harbor. I find the goose perched on the dock. His head is folded under his wing in the manner that birds have, and I have to bark twice before he straightens his long neck.

  Although they are dull-witted, of all the winged creatures, none flies higher than the goose, and that is why I have sought him. Perhaps he has flown over Mount Olympus and knows why Father Zeus was angry, I think.

  “Greetings, Cloud Flyer,” I address him. I stay some distance away as I say this, for it is commonly known that geese are the foulest-smelling bird.

  “Greetings to you, loyal Argos,” he replies. “Come closer. I have much to tell you.”

  Reluctantly, I step closer. “What news do you bring, Sir Goose?”

  “Closer, Argos. My voice is tired from calling my brothers, and I must leave soon.”

  Before stepping closer I ask, “Do you have news of my master, noble goose?”

  “Aye, Boar Slayer. That is why I have stopped here. The gods spoke your master’s name last night.”

  Hearing this, the fur on my back stands up, and I approach him with my head low in respect and to avoid his breath.

  “Please,” I beg. “Tell me everything.”

  Before speaking, the goose curls his neck three times and then belches loudly.

  “Ahh, much better,” he says. “Now, what was I talking about?”

  “You said the gods spoke of my master,” I remind him, stepping back a little.

  “Yes, of course. Well, I was leading our flock last night and decided to take us over Mount Olympus. My brothers and I saw the gods holding counsel there, so we stopped to listen. Most of the gods were present, Argos, and Olympus shone with their glory. Fair Athena was in attendance, and she addressed her father thus: ‘Father Zeus,’ she spoke. ‘I beg you to remember your servant, noble Odysseus. For seven years he has been constrained on Kalypso’s island, suffering with a heavy heart, longing to see his son, Telemachos, now nearly grown, and his long-enduring wife.’”

  My master spoken of in front of Father Zeus himself!

  “What did Lord Zeus say then?” I ask the goose, who again is curling his neck.

  He belches a second time and says, “Truly Athena is wise, loyal Argos, for this plea is what angered Father Zeus, just as she intended. Never have I seen such lightning or heard such thunder!”

  “Indeed, noble goose, Ithaka herself shook like leaves on a tree. But tell me, what did Zeus say after he hurled his lightning?”

  “Boar Slayer, what Father Zeus said will bring joy to your heart. He ordered Hermes to fly to the nymph Kalypso with this message: that she of the most lovely hair shall not forestall the homecoming of enduring Odysseus any longer, but allow him to construct a raft and leave her island immediately. She must direct him to sail to the island of the Phaiakians, who will provide him with a fast and steady ship, for it is fated that he return to the land of his fathers.”

  “O most noble of birds and highest flyer of all, truly your words give me hope! What can I do to reward you for your loyalty? Tell me, and if it is in my power I shall do it.”

  The goose spreads his wings and belches a third time before answering.

  “This I ask of you, loyal one. Young Telemachos has grown to be a fine hunter, and none can outfly his straight arrows. Lead him not in the direction of our nests for two winters, so that our flock can grow, for we have suffered much from his prowess. Do this, and you shall owe me nothing else.”

  I nod and say, “I swear to you, then, Sir Goose, I shall do as you ask. Soon your flocks will blacken the sky.”

  “And I shall fly at the front,” the goose says, burping yet again.

  “Indeed. Farewell, Sir Goose. May the gods be good to you.”

  Then I run back up the path leading to the stable, where even the smell of goats and sheep are welcome to me. The goatherd is calling my name just as I come over the hill, and I spend the rest of the day chasing the yellow-eyed kids, pretending to be a mountain wolf so they will learn to stay together and not wander off alone as their stupid cousins, the sheep, do.

  CHAPTER XXIV

  Deadly wine

  Akakios, who plans to kidnap Telemachos, is a vain and stingy man who loves his wine as much as his ships. Since his home is near the shore and the soil there is too poor to grow grapes, he has his wine brought to him in large wooden barrels. The winemaker who sells it lives on the south of my master’s estate, so I have seen his ox-pulled cart every week pass through our land on his way to distribute his wine to the noble families that live along the shore. At each stop he picks up the empty casks and delivers full replacements. Tomorrow is a festival day, so he will be making his rounds this afternoon, when Apollo’s chariot is over the western sky and the cool winds blow in from the sea. That is when I will take my revenge.

  The day drags slowly by, as often happens when one anticipates the unknown. Finally I hear the lowing of an ox, and I know the winemaker approaches. I let the oxcart pass and then follow along behind it, hiding in the scrub while the winemaker delivers his barrels to every fine estate along the shore. He and his servants bring back empty barrels and stack them next to the full ones, and then he covers the cart again with sailcloth and continues on his way. Luna is nearly overhead when he reaches Akakios’s estate, and I know his servants will be in a hurry to finish before darkness falls and it is unsafe to travel.

  When the winemaker nears Akakios’s estate, I jump into an empty barrel, curl up, and wait. How tight the fit is, but the gods make my old bones supple again, and I can bear the pain. The barrel, with me inside, weighs as much as a wine-filled one. Now I must pray that I am carried inside. A moment later I feel my barrel being lifted and carried into Akakios’s house. I think of my master then, imagining what he felt when the Trojans wheeled his giant horse into their own fortress, sealing their doom. I am now also inside my enemy’s gate.

  Once the house is quiet, I topple my barrel and crawl out. How my bones ache! How my black coat smells of rotten grapes! But I am inside now. I stop and listen. His servants have gone to bed, and Akakios has not yet returned from my master’s house, although I know he will arrive soon. Then I smell it. A guard dog. And he will smell me.

  I creep out of the storeroom and make my way to the courtyard, where I see him. The dog is tied by his neck to a tree. Even in the darkness I can see he is a large beast; his coat is either brown or black, I cannot tell which. His neck and tail droop pitifully.

  “Brother!” I call softly. “Do not bark! I bear you no harm.”

  “There is no food here, friend,” the dog replies. “Come back tomorrow after the festival. There will be scraps on the ground then.”

  I move closer to the dog so that he can see my face.

  “I do not seek food. What is your name, brother?”

  “I am called Cadmus. And yours?”

  “I am Argos.”

  “The Boar Slayer?”

  “I am also called that. Tell me, Brother Cadmus, does Akakios tie you up every night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he knows I will run away if he doesn’t.”

  “Why would you run away? Are you not loyal to him?”

  “Loyalty must be earned, should it not, Argos?”

  “Indeed,” I say. “He beats you?”

  “Aye. He is a cruel man. He has no wife nor children, only wine to keep him company. And I have often felt his strong foot and stinging strap. But why are you here, Boar Slayer?”

  “To kill your master.”

  “Why? What has he done to you?”

  “He has threatened to kidnap my master’s son. For that he c
annot live.”

  For a moment Cadmus says nothing. I wait for his warning bark. It never comes. Instead he says, “You have shamed me by coming here, brother.”

  “Why? That was not my intention,” I say.

  “Have you not found me tied like a slave to a stake by my own master? Have you not come to destroy the man who has been cruel to me my entire life?”

  Truly, I see that my words have stung him. Proud Cadmus’s tail hangs low and his ears lie flat.

  I quickly gnaw through his rope. “Go now,” I tell him. “You are free. Your duty to your master has ended.”

  Cadmus shakes his head. “No, loyal one. My duty begins now. Leave with haste and return to your master’s son. Akakios will trouble the house of Odysseus no more.”

  We touch noses, and I leave. As I climb a ridge, I see Akakaios arriving in his cart. Sometime later I think I hear a man cry out, but it might be the wind, which blows from the north this time of year, bringing sounds from far away.

  The next day I meet Telemachos outside his tutor’s home and make him follow me to Amphitrite’s lonely temple. Somehow he understands me, and the following day when we return to the temple, Telemachos brings an offering, and he vows to continue to do so every week.

  Thus the goddess will be appeased.

  CHAPTER XXV

  Kalypso makes an offer

  Many days passed before I heard news about my master. Had Hermes spoken to Kalypso? Would she obey Zeus, her father, and release him? How could he leave the island with no ship to convey him? Every evening I took the path down to the docks to eavesdrop on the sailors arriving from distant lands, to hear if they spoke of a man sailing the sea alone on a makeshift boat. I heard nothing.

  Then, as dawn spreads her rosy fingers, I hear a dove cooing from the eves of the sheep stall, and I trot over to greet it, as doves are not common on our island.