Eulises
"What are you doing?"
"Deciding what order to kill them in," I mutter, to the asker, Telemachus, who sits by my side. The dog lies on my other. Loyal creature. I feed it more meat that I pick from the pig's thigh.
"Okay," he mutters back, nodding, "Quit looking upstairs, she'll be in her room this time of night."
"Then she's past those doors," I say, quietly. I close my eyes, envisioning her voice. Her touch. All the perfect words and speeches I have stored up for her. all the years missed loving her.
"Tell me honestly, now, do you love that bow more than me?" she asked, standing on the lawn. I'd been explaining and showing to her my finest bow.
"So I'm offended, and also, no, I do not. I could not," I said, kissing her lips, "I love you EQUALLY with the bow no more no less ow---," she shoved me, not at all hard.
"You're so lucky I think you're funny," she said, narrowing her eyes, not at all cross.
"I clearly love you more than the bow, by a very narrow margin, but still, more—,"
"I'm below the bow aren't I?"
"Narrowly above, except on Wednesdays, those are Archery days," I said, putting an arm around her shoulders, "Come look though, you'll love it as well, I promise."
"Fine, what makes it so special?" she asked.
"It's a planitonos bow, see how it's all curled forward?"
"You have to bend it around to string it," she frowned, "My brothers and I never had one like this."
"They're not common, they're made from sinew and horn layered with wood, each of which absorb a different type of stress, so these types of bows have be stored precisely, otherwise the tension gets messed up, so we keep it in the arms room, that's why you've not seen it before, it's a house bow, not a travel bow," I explained.
"Is it stronger because of the design? It would be if you have to bend it doubly backward?" she asked, running her hands along the fine pale instrument.
"Yes, exponentially, the force it takes to draw it is ridiculous, I've had it for years and only in the past few have I even been able to draw it fully, stringing it is near impossible; my father can't even manage," I explained, stringing it, "Here, try."
"I can barely make it move," she said, tugging a bit on the string.
"It's near double the strength of even a traditional long bow."
"I had to have the lightest long bow when we went," Penelope said, shaking her head, "That's almost frightening."
"It's fabulous, my aim is better with it, I think, than any other, and it's more powerful I can pierce a boar's hide with it, it could punch through armor, I've gone boar hunting with it, and I swear it's more effective than a gun, also we did a test, it punches through the bullet proof armor they now have," I said, pleased with her interest.
"That is fascinating. I've never seen one like this."
"Yes, my grandfather acquired it."
"Does that means stole?"
"It now belongs to us, yes, isn't that lovely?"
"You know you can't lie to me," she said, tipping my face to her little one.
"I love you equal to the bow."
"Liar," she kissed my lips.
"If love did not exist I would have invented it for the worship of you," I said, stroking her cheek with one finger.
"Do you think these up throughout the day and save them up or do they come to you?" she asked, grinning.
"Oh, I plot them out, like everything," I said, "Particularly when we're apart, they'll come to me."
"Eulises, we are never apart."
"Sometimes I wake before you and have to sit there loving you, or you go to your sewing and I remain out here."
"That's in the same house!"
"I still miss you. I'm a mess; I hope you're happy that I'm your devoted servant. Forever. I'll love no one and nothing else, as proof I love you more than this bow, which previously was my favorite thing ever, I'm sure it's jealous," I said, holding it up, as evidence of how lovely it was.
"Good, I want you to myself," she said, grinning then.
She would be jealous. Can I tell her? Can I not? What am I intended to say? What words do I use I don't have them? I have speeches for her for her beauty does she want those again? How could she? I have to face her anyway, and it will be better not as myself. I can deliver my own messages of love safely. I always was better acting than not. Only with her I could be myself and now not even that. But my lies see me through. As ever.
YOU ARE READING
Of Waves and War
RomanceLiterature's most famous love story, reimagined for modern audiences. Penelope and Odysseus' relationship is the pinnacle of fictional couples. Retold primarily through Penelope's eyes as Odysseus struggles to return home, Of Waves and War offers a...