Defying Fate

Chapter 14-p1

Note: From here things get a little more off the beaten path. This is not the Odyssey you read in school, but you knew that already.

They began sailing again at dawn. Odysseus told the crew to continue east, though he had no real inclination that they were going the right way. The wind helpfully propelled them along, and they made good speed for several hours.

Conversely, this worried Odysseus, and his anxiety grew as the sun climbed in the sky, but there was no sign that the weather would not remain the same as it had the day before. Clear, and blue and beautiful.

"Captain?" A lookout called from his high perch on the mast. "I see something ahead, a bank of some kind. Land maybe?"

Odysseus squinted in the direction they were going, but he couldn't make out anything from the deck.

"Polites—" he began and Polites looked up from where he'd been weaving a new headband, one handed, one end of the weaving tied to a post, and the other to his belt. His broken arm was tucked in close to his side. Odysseus hesitated, and shook his head. "Never mind," he said, embarrassed, scrambling up the mast himself.

He climbed til he was just below the lookout's platform. He looked ahead, shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand, wrapping both legs around the mast for support. He thought he could make out a low band of something distorting the eastern horizon.

The banner above them flapped and the sail below them gave an odd shudder as the wind picked up.

"It's not land," Odysseus said, sliding back down the mast. "Eurylochus," he called as soon as his feet hit the deck. "Turn the ship north!"

"But, Captain, if it's land—"

"It's not land!" Odysseus went to the tiller and waved the man aside. He pulled and the ship turned north, nearly colliding with another ship in the fleet that was just a little too close. They course-corrected in time, with much shouting and cursing from the other crew.

"Captain, what's the matter?" Eurylochus called as he wrestled with the tiller.

"Get the men on oars, and have them stow everything that's not tied down. Cassandra! Where's Asterion?"

"Asterion is in your cabin," a nearby crewman said. "Cassandra is..." he pointed to where Cassandra stood at the railing, looking east.

"Take the tiller, keep us pointing north until I give the word."

"Yes sir," the crewman took the tiller and Odysseus strode to the railing.

"Is it..."

She nodded.

"Any further word from our... friend?"

She shook her head no.

"So, we run, then?"

No clever plans? No great escape? Just running like a coward? The voice in Odysseus' head was his own. The shadowy bank was bigger now, the horizon seemed to be shrinking, their world slowly cut in half.

The wind blew harder, and Odysseus ordered the sails furled, before it blew them off their new course.

"Once again, we run from a storm," Eurylochus's voice was concerned, pitched low as he leaned in close. "Tell me you have a plan this time."

"I have a plan this time," Odysseus said, thinking quickly, but his mind was sailing in circles, as if caught in a whirlpool. Eurylochus looked skeptical.

"Okay, I am making a plan... this time," Odysseus backtracked, "give me a minute."

Time, they needed more time. They needed to get out of this— his thoughts were a whirlwind.

"We could send the fleet south and hope to distract the gods with our boat. Anyone unwilling to be bait would be free to go with them—" the words flew out of him in a rush. "I could sail the boat alone. You could take everyone and get home, it's me the gods are angry with—" he spoke faster, forcing his voice to stay low as his throat tried to close in panic. The still-far-off clouds flashed with distant lightning.

Eurylochus put his hand on Odysseus' arm and stopped the tide of words. "We have a good lead, and our men are strong. Maybe we will be able to reach a safe harbor. Just give us the heading."

"We can put it to the captains—"

"There's no time. We will work together on this."

Odysseus nodded, and they got to work.