Free Argos by Phillip Simpson

down at me. “Argos, really,” he said. I knew chastisement when I heard it. Nothing should have induced me to trust Amycus.
    At least I had the good grace to look ashamed.

    The next day dawned. Odysseus, Eumaeus, and several retainers met Meges, Elatus, and their followers on a large field outside the palace gates.
    Elatus held the lead of a dog. Well, I was pretty sure it was a dog but certainly like none I had ever seen. It was tall and lean, with extraordinary long limbs. You could see almost every bone and muscle etched clearly through its coat.
    â€œThat’s an interesting looking creature,” remarked Odysseus. His face betrayed none of the fury I knew he felt over my attempted poisoning. Odysseus always planned carefully. He would have his revenge but it would be on his terms.
    â€œIndeed,” said Meges, looking smug. “Elatus has taken a personal interest in breeding our dogs. Especially ones built for speed. The last few years, he’s selected only the fastest and leanest dogs. We bred those with a dog we brought from a trader who claimed it was from a distant land no one had ever seen.”
    â€œIt certainly looks like it,” said Eumaeus. “I’ve never seen the like.”
    â€œAnd nor will you again,” said Elatus, smirking.
    â€œWell,” said Odysseus, clapping his hands briskly. “Shall we get on with this wager then?”
    Meges shouted a command and one of his men hurried forward with a cage. There was a hare inside.
    â€œShall we go over the rules again?” asked Meges.
    â€œAs you wish,” said Odysseus, shrugging.
    â€œIt’s the first dog to catch the hare and bring it back to its master,” said Elatus.
    â€œThat wasn’t what was agreed!” protested Eumaeus. “Last night you made no mention of the dog bringing it back.”
    â€œDoes this swineherd speak for you, Lord Odysseus?” asked Meges, unable to keep the derision out of his voice.
    â€œHe is not just my swineherd, Meges,” said Odysseus. “He is also my friend. Mind your tongue.”
    â€œIt must have slipped my mind,” said Elatus. “It is of no concern and will make little difference to the contest.”
    Odysseus pretended to consider. “I agree,” he said finally.
    â€œBut they can’t just change the rules!” exclaimed Eumaeus.
    â€œEnough, Eumaeus,” said Odysseus in a voice that brooked no argument.
    â€œVery well then,” said Meges. “Prepare your dog.”
    The cage was set before us. I was lined up on one side of the cage while my rival was set on the other as one of Meges’ men opened it.
    The hare bolted. Moments later, on an agreed signal, both I and the other dog were set free. I took off, my paws seemingly on fire, but was immediately dismayed by the strange dog. I had never met another dog that could keep pace with me and yet this one was. The rough ground, pocked and pitted with holes, however, gave me an advantage. My larger paws and more robust build were better suited to this sort of terrain.
    To its credit, the other dog was
fast
. Together, we gained on the hare as it swerved in desperation before us. I could almost feel the breath of the animal next to me, so close were we. Suddenly, the other dog staggered slightly, its small foot tripped by a hidden crevice. It was the opportunity I needed. I lunged for the hare and tasted success when my jaws found its warm flesh.
    I also tasted something else. Something unfamiliar. I gave it no further thought and buoyed by victory, sped back to my master. Almost immediately, however, I began to slow. My head filled with cloying mist. The strange taste was strong in my mouth. Next to me, the other dog had caught up and was attempting to rip my prize from my mouth. I would not let it. Could not let it.
    Stubbornly, I stumbled toward my master. The other dog continued its attempts to worry the hare from my jaws but I would allow no one