Defying Fate

Chapter 33

Odysseus watched the coast slide by, feeling homesick and trying not to remember the last time he'd sailed away from Ithaca, but memories clouded his vision anyway.

——

"I'll be back," Odysseus said. "I promise, I'll return." The three members of the royal family of Ithaca felt very small under the bright Achean sun as they stood on the stone pier. Twelve ships with bright sails and tall masts stood in the harbor, though only one was still boarding.

Odysseus had failed to avoid the draft, and he'd had one week to gather up his portion of the army to sail for Aulis, then Troy, to lay siege on the city and rescue Helen, queen of Sparta, and Penelope's cousin.

Penelope was putting on a strong face, as they stood before the final ship, with its bright yellow and black striped sails. She held the baby, Telemachus, tightly, though he was sound asleep, oblivious to everything going on.

"I know," she said softly. "You'll win this war for them, single handedly, I'd expect." Her chuckle was tear-filled. "Be back before we've had a chance to miss you."

"I'll miss you every single moment anyway," Odysseus said. He knew it sounded corny, but it was already out. "But, don't wait for me, Pen, if I'm gone too long. You don't need to waste your life, if I—"

"Don't say that," she put a finger to his lips. "You'll be fine."

"I love you," Odysseus said, and the two shared a final kiss. They didn't linger, and Odysseus didn't look back as he boarded the final ship.

"Only twelve ships? You're an island kingdom, and you could only manage twelve ships?" Palamedes' voice was shrill as Odysseus stepped aboard.

"Most of our boats are fishing boats," Odysseus replied as the gangplank was raised and the ships cast off. "We're not a wealthy kingdom like Mycenae. This was the best I could manage on short notice."

"Had you not wasted time with silly games, perhaps you could have supplied more men to the cause."

Odysseus reached out and took Palamedes by the collar, pulling him off balance and down slightly to his eye level. "I will do everything in my power to ensure the war's end. You can tell Agamemnon to be grateful enough for that." He released the man and Palamedes staggered away. Odysseus watched him go, gritting his teeth, and considered swimming to one of the other ships for the brief trip to Aulis, if only to avoid throwing the man overboard.

Something on the docks caught his eye, though, and he looked to see that Penelope was still watching, she hadn't moved, as if a statue had been erected in her place, like she would wait there without moving until he came back.

But that wasn't what had caught his eye. It had been a motion. A young boy, maybe five or six, had run to the end of the docks. He had a wooden sword in his hand, and he raised it over his head as Odysseus watched. It was Antinous, his parents had been shipwrecked, but Odysseus had taken care of him. He had hoped the boy would be Telemachus' friend one day. Now, the boy raised his sword high and shouted something that Odysseus couldn't catch over the sound of the waves. But the rest of the crowd raised their hands too, and the shout grew, until Odysseus could hear it.

It was one word.

Victory.

———

Diomedes came over and leaned on the railing beside him, interrupting his spiraling thoughts.

"I wish I could have seen it in its heyday," he said softly. "You always spoke so highly of your home."

"You never got the chance to see it?" Odysseus asked, his eyes filling with tears again. He'd already almost cried in front of Louiza, not in front of Diomedes too. "You never came to visit after— I mean— we never—" his throat closed up and he couldn't finish.

Over the course of the war, Odysseus and Diomedes had been very close. Closer than friends, closer than brothers. Odysseus had loved him, as much as he loved Penelope. He'd trusted him with his life, and Diomedes had, despite everything, despite all of Odysseus' efforts, returned the favor.

He'd never gotten the chance to say goodbye.

"Does this mean, if we go back... I'll never see you again?" Odysseus finally managed to squeak out. He found the idea hard to swallow around the lump in his throat.

"I..." Diomedes began slowly. "I don't remember," he chuckled. "I hope you do." He reached out to tousle Odysseus' hair affectionately.

Odysseus was about to respond when a call came from near the front of the ship.

"The gates are just ahead." It was Hera, standing comfortably in the prow, one hand on the railing, looking north.

Ahead of them rose a pair of something Odysseus had thought to be tall rocks, though he hadn't ever been aware of that kind of rock formation near Ithaca. Now, as they came closer, he saw it was a pair of doors. Between them was a strange drop in the ocean's surface. A ramp leading downward, somehow into the sea's surface without waterfalls or a change in the current.

It was even stranger than the portal that had brought them here, and some of the men stood up from their benches, as if to back away from the gates.

But the wind was behind them, and the ship sailed on, directly through and down.

The gates closed behind them with a low boom and they were left in the dimness below the sea.