Free The Girl From Ithaca by Cherry Gregory Page B

then.”
    I chewed the bread slowly, watching his face, trying to work out what he was thinking. His expression was sombre. When at last he’d drunk the final drop of wine, he sat back and studied me.
    “It will be dangerous and exhausting and uncomfortable. You’ll be cold and hungry much of the time. Some of the sailors stink, stink worse than Father’s pigs and …”
    There was a clatter of wood outside the tent and then a moan. “By Hades’ backside, why’s the shit always happen to me?”
    Odysseus rolled his eyes. “… and you’ll hear words that would make our poor mother faint.”
    I smiled to myself, thinking Odysseus would be shocked to know exactly what I had heard in the company of Lysander and his friends.
    “Most important of all, you must do exactly as I say, definitely not one of your stronger points,” he finished, giving me a stern look.
    I nodded.
    “If you’re willing to accept all that, tell Phoebus you’re coming with me, but don’t reveal anything else to him. He’s a good man, but for now we’ll assume he reports everything to Agamemnon.”
    Bathing at the stream by the harbour, I found Rhea with Io and Cybele. Without speaking, I knelt down beside them, amongst the rushes that stood like sentries on the precarious edge of dry land. Cybele stifled a sob. Glancing across, I saw Rhea’s bruised and swollen face.
    “Cybele and I return to Mycenae today. It’s fallen on us to give the news to Queen Clytemnestra,” Rhea said quietly. She put her arm around Cybele, as if comforting a child.
    I turned to Io. She was hanging her head, her long hair covering her face.
    “But what about you?” I whispered.
    “Agamemnon noticed me last night. He’s ordered me to accompany him to Troy.”
    She raised her head slightly as I took in the full horror of her words. Mother and Euryclea tried to keep such things from me, but I’d heard servants talk of how some men treated women under their control, whether a slave, servant or wife. The cook was especially descriptive, when she was in the right mood. If these ordinary men were cruel, how much worse would Agamemnon be? I was way out of my depth but still desperate to give Io what comfort I could.
    “I’m, I’m going to Troy too, if that helps a little,” I said.
    “Then I’ll have someone to trust and somewhere to hide. Yes, Lady Neomene, that helps. I shall look out for you in Tenedos.”
     
     
     

   
     
    Chapter SEVEN
     
    The Little Bear and the Moon
     
    T he sun was high in the sky when I stood on the platform at the stern of the ship. Evander stood with me, gripping the large steering oar and looking out for cross currents and whirlpools. He was a thickset, muscular man who enjoyed sitting on the Ithacan harbour with a tale to tell any child who asked him, but he was also Odysseus’ most experienced pilot.
    I studied the oarsmen on the long benches. Most were resting now, but I knew they’d be able to keep a fast pace for long stretches of time if they needed to because these were the strongest oarsmen in Ithaca, the men who worked on the merchant ships bringing supplies and trade to our island. Under their seats, each rower had leather skins full of water and a bag of barley-meal for when they grew hungry. They needed everything by their side, ready to row all day and then all night if necessary. I saw how they’d stowed their spears and shields underneath the benches, as if they expected an attack while they rowed.
    “We’re not at war with Troy yet, so why’ve the oarsmen got their spears ready?” I asked.
    Evander smiled. “It’s certainly not for Trojan ships. It’s strange for us Ithacans to understand, but the Trojans have very few ships and little experience of the sea.”
    “How do they do their trading then?”
    “The Trojan merchants have no need to sail anywhere. Their markets are so famous, trade comes to them.”
    “So who else might attack us?”
    “Oh, it’s not likely on a swift and well-armed