21: the lord of lies

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Eulises

"Tell us where you've been all this time."

"I----" I haven't been around this many people since the siege. I feel like I can't breath. I can hear metal clanging in my ears.

"This is my father, I told you," there's a pretty girl standing next to me.

"Naucissa, let the man speak. If you were a solider in the war, where have you been all this time?"

"I----I am Eulises of Ithaca, son of Laertes," I say, forcing the words out, blinking back the blood staining my vision. Not here. These people are just standing here staring at me. In a fine house. And they closed the doors. They closed the doors. We are locked in. They could do anything with me.

"I think I know that name," the man says, leaning back in his chair, "Weren't you one of the lost?"

"I---I was yes hence the reason I am---imposing on your generosity I am trying to, finally, reach home," I say.

"Aye, sit down. Rest a while; you don't look well."

"Sir," I reluctantly move to sit as his table. Everyone is eating. There is so much food. I'm sickened by the smell of it. it's probably poisoned. Could be poisoned. Definitely could be.

Aeiea didn't look very imposing either. And after our ship was dashed apart on the rocks, I was less than eager to trust it. My men (for whatever fucking reason) were less concerned, insisting on going inland to forage for any sort of food or supplies. At that point we had but one serviceable ship and by serviceable meaning we might be able to collect the parts to rebuild it.

I stayed behind, fishing for bits of the boat and any supplies that might come in with the tide. The men were restless and wandered inland and I confess I was too angry and full of self-pity to bother to stop them from walking to their own doom, as was my custom.

"So there's a witch--,"

"My lord," I'd  spun, a sword in hand, only to see Hermes standing in the surf behind me.

"So there's a witch," completely ignoring me, "You'll not mind her."

"But?" I asked, biting my own lip.

"But she'll likely try to poison you before she discovers you're the same sort of disaster as her, so to that effect," He held out a handful of herbs, "Hold them in your mouth, swallow them if you must, and her potions at least will have no effect."

"An odd gift, I thought I was out of favor with the gods," I said, accepting it.

A terrible screaming issued from the island. I stared at Hermes. He shrugged.

"You are, so are they, ah, life goes on and is endlessly interesting to me. Don't look at me like that, Eulises, worse things have happened to you."

"Do you—have any idea---how low that puts the bar?"

"I do actually, farewell, feel free to tell her I sent you with it; she's precious when she's cross," and then he sprinted off into the sunset.

I sighed. Nothing for it. And the screaming stopped, typical. There was something like rocky path up into the island.

"If all of you died, I won't forgive you," I said, haughtily, picking my way up the path, "Penelope will say I'm exaggerating, but I'm not--- you are all this stupid---fucking ---okay."

I had reached an old, decaying looking farm house. And farmyard. The yard was surprisingly well stocked with pigs. Equal in number to my missing morons.

"Do not look at me like that," I said, taking the moly in my mouth. "I'm having as bad a day as you are, by having to be around you."

"Who are you?" a woman walked out of the house. I knew well when I saw her she was no mortal. Much shorter than I, with fiery copper hair pulled back in a tight bun, soft green blue eyes, wide set, on a small if plain face. But her voice was thick and deep like a rolling wave. And her footsteps just a bit too light. She was wearing a blue dress, her hands were stained as if from mixing potions, and her apron damp with blood.

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