Strength

The Struggle of a Lifetime

            “THESPUS!”

            It was the twelfth time that day that Thespus’ name had echoed among the ship. Thespus flinched, cowering in his seat. Cyrillus stomped over to Thespus, his hand raised to give him a blow, when a hand shot out and grabbed his.

            “What do you mean to accomplish by hitting one of my men, Cyrillus?” Odysseus stood with his back to the setting sun, his frame illuminated by the blinding light.

“Erm, discipline, I suppose, sir,” replied Cyrillus, squinting. He bent over, his hand beginning to throb from the pressure Odysseus was exerting on it.

            “Is that so?” questioned Odysseus casually, inspecting his other hand with an air of unimportance. “Somehow, I don’t believe that bashing their head in is the most effective way of doing that, hmm?” He looked inquisitively at Cyrillus, eyebrows raised.

Cyrillus glowered, wrenching his hand back and rubbing it protectively. He gave Odysseus an injured look before sulking off to the back of the ship. Odysseus sighed, giving Thespus a pat on the shoulder, saying, “Just try to keep your eye on the prow, son,” before following Cyrillus away. Thespus gave a huge moan of relief, and slumped over on the bench. He smiled weakly at the receding figure of Odysseus before setting back to rowing like never before.

He hated disappointing Odysseus. When Ithica had declared war on Troy, he had begged Odysseus to take him on his ship, even though he was too young. He had always dreamt of traveling the world, battling and rowing, and rebuilding the legacy of his family. His father had been a great warrior when Thespus was young, but after his first wife died, he fell to drinking. His habit became so bad that he was sent away, banished from Ithica. Thespus was crushed, and vowed to avenge his father’s decline. Odysseus took Thespus under his wing, and trained him to become a great warrior. Odysseus was a father figure to Thespus, and Thespus constantly worked to show Odysseus that he hadn’t made a mistake in taking him on this exodus6 in his ship.

“Cyrillus, will you come with me?” intoned Odysseus softly, making his way out of earshot of the crew. Cyrillus grumbled, but hurriedly followed Odysseus. “Cyrillus.” Odysseus turned around, bending slightly so he was eye level to Cyrillus. “You must understand. I cannot allow you to constantly annihilate7 the self-esteem of my men. Morale is already low. I can’t afford to let you succumb8 to your misery, and take it out on these men. Please be strong. For them.” Odysseus straightened, and began making his way back to the stern. He placed a hand on Cyrillus’ back.

“For me.”