"They know...you told them, and released them?" Penelope shook her head, trying to understand. "What if they call their kinsmen together for vengeance?"
"Who would justify them? Who would help them?" He sighed, closed his eyes, and leaned hard into the rudder. "Penelope, they took their lives into their hands in a wager, and lost."
"I will never understand battle, or what drives a man to cut the life from another."
"Sweet Penelope, I hope you never do."
Chapter 10
* * *
The ship reached Ithaka in mid-afternoon, when the sun touched the top of the highest peak in the island's backbone. Penelope stood in the prow, leaning against the railing, trying to take in everything at once. Odysseus had described to her the greater and lesser bays. Their unfinished home sat in a narrow span of land, a wasp-waist bridge between the two islands that made Ithaka. She knew it was foolishness to try to see the house, the orchards and the high wall surrounding it, but she tried anyway.
She tried to see everything, how the water changed shades of blue as the depth changed, how the shading of green on the trees differed as they grew thicker and higher, the rippling white and gold of the sand along the shore. Penelope counted the seconds as the ship sailed past a cove on the southern side, going into the greater bay and then swung south and east for the lesser bay. The journey from the landing to their home would be a longer walk than from the greater bay, but the lesser bay provided good anchorage and protection.
As the sailors jumped over the side to ease the ship onto the sand for docking, Penelope caught glimpses of people running for the bay and others running away. She followed the path of a boy in a blue loincloth as he hurried up an incline. The ship had been recognized, and someone ran now to tell King Laertes Odysseus had finally come home.
Yes, she admitted now, Ithaka was a rough and rocky place. Penelope was glad of that. It made Ithaka hard to overthrow. Only those trained on the island, familiar with all the hidden places and the uneven landscape, could hold and defend it. She turned around, studying the wind-scoured crags, the slope of the beach. Even in the hottest summer, there would be cooling breezes from the shore. Penelope turned to look up to the ridge where Odysseus' home sat. Even from a distance, it looked rich and beautiful. Her husband had said the island had known lean years. Penelope wondered how Ithaka would be in lush times, because it was beautiful now.
"Home," Odysseus said, coming up behind her. His voice was thick with satisfaction.
She turned around and looked down at him from her perch. There was nothing she could think of to say, so she smiled and held out her arms. He reached up and helped her down, stealing a kiss and then tugging on her braid before releasing her.
"Tonight, we sleep in our own bed. Tomorrow..." A laugh of exuberance burst from him. "Tomorrow, we make plans."
"Plans for what?"
"Everything." He opened his mouth to say more, but a shout from the beach caught his attention. Odysseus waved in response. "Come." He strode to the railing and jumped down into the water, then reached up for her. Odysseus carried her until they reached the sand.
Penelope would have known his parents anywhere, just from Odysseus' descriptions. They were surrounded by people, some calling greetings, others watching. Penelope ignored them and concentrated on the couple advancing toward her.
Laertes stood tall despite the stooping weight of years on his shoulders. The flesh had begun to shrink from his face and arms, leaving a deceptive thinness. His hair showed streaks of silver among the warm, thick brown. His eyes were almost amber and sparkled with life and interest. He walked with a firm stride across the sand, guiding the woman with him by a touch on her elbow.
Antikleia, Odysseus' mother was a short, plump woman, her hair tending to gold with much red in it. Penelope saw tightness in the woman's mouth, wrinkles around her gray eyes. Sadness and worry hung on her like heavy ivy that sucked at her vitality. Shadows lined the pale, round face, where there should have been a rosy glow. Penelope felt pity for the woman, not the wariness she had expected.
Odysseus set her down on the sand and gripped her shoulder, gave her an encouraging smile and led her to meet his parents. Penelope heard comments now from the crowd. She nearly smiled when she heard a woman remark on her being "such a little, dark maid." Penelope found she didn't mind. Until she heard a man remark that he thought Helen was tall and golden. A tiny spark of anger turned quickly to laughter she could hardly repress. These people expected Odysseus to bring Helen as a bride.
A tightness in her chest vanished when Laertes smiled at her. Her face warmed and she felt the blush moving over her neck and face when Odysseus put his arm around her waist, drawing her close against him.
"Welcome, Penelope, daughter of Ikarios," Laertes said, resting his hand on the top of her head in blessing. "As my son has taken you to his heart, I welcome you to our home and family."
"I welcome a new daughter to our house," Antikleia said, her voice soft, almost breathless. For a moment, the worry at the back of her eyes faded and her smile was genuine. She glanced back and forth between Odysseus and his bride, hesitating. Then she leaned forward and kissed Penelope on both cheeks. "You make him happy," she whispered before drawing back. "For that alone, I welcome you gladly."
"I gave orders for a feast," Laertes said, his voice booming and hearty, cutting through the cloud of questions in Penelope's mind. "We were thinking we would have to endure the winter without you. The gossip from the ports said there was no man Tyndareos considered good enough for Helen."
"Menelaos is the chosen one," Odysseus said, looking around at the waiting crowd with a wide grin. "And that is all the news you'll get from me. Question my men to death, if you must know the market talk," he added with a laugh.
Some of the crowd laughed with him and began to scatter. Penelope was glad when Odysseus kept his arm around her as they left the beach. Antikleia walked at her side and Laertes walked next to his son. Penelope contented herself with taking in everything she could see, as they walked up the paths, across the narrow meadows. The men kept the conversation between themselves, Laertes asking questions and Odysseus answering, spinning everything into a tale.
Penelope stole glances at Antikleia from time to time. The woman watched the ground as she walked, as if she thought it would change suddenly under her feet. Occasionally she would look up, the sadness in her eyes fading as she looked at her returned son. She was oblivious to all else. Penelope doubted the woman would even hear her if she spoke to her.
Penelope felt some relief, touched with sadness. Odysseus had told her they would live in his parents' home until the house he built was finished. She had not looked forward to any conflict that might rise between his mother and her. As Odysseus' wife, it was her duty to take charge of his household, yet not insult or steal the authority of his mother. Penelope wondered how involved Antikleia was in the day-to-day affairs of the estate, and how much power the housekeeper had. She envied Helen, who had few changes to make in the household of the palace of Sparta.
* * * *
"My son, you are the one who married her, not I." Laertes' laughter rang from the courtyard below, catching Penelope's attention. "Why do you try to convince me?"
She stepped to the window of the room she shared with Odysseus in his parents' house, her fingers fumbling with the clasp holding her dress up at her shoulders. Through the curtained doorway, Eurynome prepared her bath. Penelope had looked forward to the comfort of a warm bath after days of traveling and cold springs for washing. Until now. Her husband and his father had already bathed and changed and now talked in the courtyard alone. She knew it wrong to listen to a conversation that didn't include her; especially one about her. Penelope couldn't push away her curiosity. She hissed as the clasp finally opened and the pin pricked her finger. She held her dress up with one hand, sucked on the injured finger, and listened.
"You sounded skeptical. I merely want to convince you of the wisdom in my choi
ce," Odysseus said. The two men stepped into her view now, walking from under the balcony below her feet. He smiled at his father, one hand on his shoulder.
"When have you ever made a decision that wasn't profitable?" Laertes' voice held teasing and laughter now.
"The reason for your doubts still escape me, Father. What more do I have to say? I asked everyone I could, to find out everything about her. She helped to manage her grandfather's household and farm. She can calculate like a scribe and keep records. I told you how she defended herself when we were attacked and when Aias--"
"Yes, yes." Laertes shook his head. "I never thought to see you lose your reason for a beautiful face."
"She is more than beautiful, Father." Exasperation touched Odysseus' voice. Penelope felt torn between amusement and embarrassment at the passion of his defense. "She is alive--alert--her mind is quick to grasp and remember what other women ignore. She has spirit and courage. She is more than just a decoration for my household and a body to warm my bed."
"Ah, and now we approach the problem." Laertes held up his hand, to forestall more protests. "She is beautiful and young. Perhaps too young and small. Can she give you healthy sons?"
"She is still gaining her growth. If all I wanted was a healthy son, I could have bought any wide-hipped slave girl for that. Father, why can't I make you understand?"
"I understand very well." He sighed and gestured toward a bench next to a pool at one end of the courtyard. Laertes sat down, moving slowly. "For the good of Ithaka, she must give you a son. Soon. If there is any power left in the old worship, it must be invoked now."
"Penelope understands the old ways. She understands more than she lets you guess." Odysseus laughed. "I learned everything about her that I could, then went to Pylos to see her when she arrived. She escaped her guards to go back to her ship to retrieve a toy, and when Aias accosted her, turned out a tale that later caused him great trouble. I knew then, she was the one for me."
Penelope's fingers dug into the stone of the windowsill as his words echoed in her mind. Odysseus had known who she was from the start? He had come to Pylos to inspect her? Would he have saved her from Aias if she hadn't impressed him?
She pushed aside that question and doubt as soon as it arose in her mind, yet couldn't do so completely. She wanted to believe Odysseus would have protected her because she was Helen's cousin, because she was Tyndareos' niece, and because she refused Aias' advances--not just because he had decided she would be his and he protected his property.
"Someday, your tricks and plans will be your destruction," Laertes said. "Do you trust your wife?"
"As much as I trust you, or Mentor. Father, if I couldn't have won her fairly, I would have stolen her. I spread tales to frighten any noble who showed interest in her. It took cunning to win her friendship when she disguised herself as a boy."
"As a boy!" He laughed. "I can see you've found a wife to match you."
Penelope felt something tighten inside, a sense of uneasiness. Was that a compliment? Should she be flattered Odysseus had worked so hard to keep her for himself? These confessions to his father confirmed what she had heard others say about him, and she wasn't sure she liked that.
"You are my only son." The abrupt return to seriousness in Laertes' tone took her from her musing. "You were born late to your mother. The day your son is born, you will be king in my place. I cannot wait forever. I want to rest."
"You make me sound like a selfish man," Odysseus said, settling down on the bench next to his father. He groaned, the sound turning into a ragged chuckle.
"Far be it for me to accuse you."
"The women of her family line were priestesses to the Goddess. She could have been a priestess."
"If she was, you never could have brought her here, away from her home and the altar she was born to serve."
"I know that. But the people who still hold to the old ways, who worship in secret, will follow Penelope because of her mother's line. She will bring the final unity to Ithaka that all your battles could never accomplish. War will not win the hearts of the women, and they influence their husbands."
"Does she follow the old ways? That is the important question. If so, how does she feel, being given away like a slave when her ancestors had the right to choose?" Laertes looked tired now. Penelope thought he disliked asking the questions he voiced to his son.
"She does. She understands already she will be more a queen than Helen could ever hope to be. She knows I need her, that I chose her because of her wisdom and strength."
"Do you hold her heart, to trust her so deeply? My son, I could believe you bewitched, to be so trusting."
"I am bewitched. And she is a witch." Odysseus chuckled, the sound warm, sending a warm pulse through Penelope in response. "Father, she is alive like no other woman. Alert. Cunning. Strong. She knows how to sway a man with her mind and virtues, not just with her beauty and her sweet body."
Tears touched her eyes and she blinked them away. Penelope berated herself for doubting Odysseus. Perhaps his ways were devious, but his motives were true. She had to believe that.
"I see more than you tell me." Laertes paused, looking his son up and down. "She is strong. A better queen than your mother, perhaps?"
"I honor and love my mother." He stood, towering over his father. "But the day my sister died, Mother turned away from the land of the living. She made herself no fit queen for you. She abandoned the Goddess and the old ways. Ithaka needs strength. Dreams and oracles and Athena's priests have warned me of dangerous days ahead."
"Penelope." Eurynome's voice, though soft, shocked her as it broke through her concentration on the men below.
She turned and found another woman in the room with her nurse. This woman was dressed plainly, her hair braided close around her head. She stood tall and strong and straight, a woman of authority. Brown eyes weighed Penelope. Ruddy cheeks and smooth, firm muscles in her half-bared arms proclaimed this woman a hard worker, healthy, and active.
"I am the housekeeper, Eurykleia," the woman said, her words soft and slow.
A spark touched her eyes and her lips lifted a little at the corners. Penelope had the sense that she had just passed a test. She recalled what Odysseus had said about his parents' household. Eurykleia had been his nurse and a woman of influence in other areas.
"Is there anything you require?" the newcomer continued. She turned to include Eurynome in the question.
"For myself, I have what I need," Penelope said. "Have the rest of my people been settled?"
"And all insisting on taking their duties immediately. They train well in Sparta." The woman gave Eurynome a smile and a short nod of her head.
"My husband said you would be a friend to us," Penelope ventured, encouraged by the knowledge that her nurse and the housekeeper already respected each other. She had worried about that more than any difficulties with Antikleia.
"And so I shall, mistress." Eurykleia's expression warmed. "Come, your bath grows cold. You have had a long, wearying journey, but you are indeed home now."
Penelope nodded. She felt another cord of tension loosen inside her with this new acceptance. She wished that women's gossip told a girl how to find her place with her husband's family, rather than what to do on her bridal night. This was far more important.
While Eurynome tended to her, Penelope thought over the conversation she had overheard. She had assumed Odysseus believed the old ways, but now she suspected he only spoke the words to placate people. He needed her, yes. He had spoken the truth there.
She was proud Odysseus chose her for her skills and abilities, not just for a royal bride to give him a proper heir. Yet she wished he had dwelled more on how beautiful he found her. Penelope laughed at her foolish pride and when Eurynome gave her a questioning glance, shrugged it off as nothing important.
* * * *
"The armory will be here." Odysseus paced out a square on the packed dirt. "The threshold, over there, will be raised so the doors shut tigh
t against the winter winds. Hearths in the center of the large rooms. And see this."
He took Penelope by the hand and led her through the arch of an empty doorway. The sky was bright overhead, shining through into the roofless main hall of the half-built house.
They had awakened early, almost with the dawn, to walk the short distance to his unfinished house. Penelope welcomed the chill of mist that slowly burned away with the rising sun. She smiled at Odysseus, delighted with his eagerness and pride as he led her from one echoing room to another, telling her where stairs would be, hearths, partitions, and ceilings to make a second floor. Now he led her outside, past the servant quarters.
"I devised a way to bring the water of the springs closer to us, instead of the women carrying jars back and forth all day." He gestured for her to inspect the stone-lined ditch that fed water into a cistern in the courtyard. "When the winter storms blow, we'll be warm in our home and no one will need to leave it for anything."
"You're like a little boy with a new toy," she teased.
"Does a boy think only of guarding his treasure?" Odysseus returned, drawing her close to kiss.
"So many plans and schemes," she murmured. "You will drive yourself half mad someday, with your tricks and tales. How do you keep your stories from tangling in your head?"
"I do it because I must." He shrugged. "Here, I want to show you something, and then we must go back. Father has called an assembly of the elders this morning so I can answer all their questions at once." Odysseus sighed, putting on a mask of long-suffering.
Penelope shook her head, knowing he acted for her amusement. She knew he reveled in having an audience, drawing reactions with a twist of a phrase.
One section of the house had its roof already, next to the main hall. Behind a door bound with bronze, a narrow, sheltered stairway led to the second floor. Odysseus took her up the stairs, to a series of three rooms overlooking the inner and outer courtyards. Bronze shutters were closed to protect the furnishings already placed inside. Odysseus flung open shutters in all three rooms and gestured for her to inspect them.
THE DREAMER'S LOOM Page 14