Defying Fate

Chapter 8 p2

The fleet was moving within the hour, and not long after that, Odysseus could make out the edges of the island to the east.

It was as Cassandra had described. Two high peaks with a shallow field in the middle. The only decent landing spot was on the western end, closest to them. It was still too far away for Odysseus to make out anything properly, but he thought he could see tiny white dots of sheep crowding the far slopes of the island's eastern peak.

"They must be massive," he whispered. "If we can see them from here."

"They are small compared to the Cyclops," Cassandra said. "But there are very few Cyclops tending them."

"Who will we have to talk to?"

"The largest and most powerful of the Cyclops lives on the eastern side of the island. It is his flock. His name is Polyphemus."

Odysseus nodded. "We'll prepare a suitable offering." He leaned on the railing, short of breath. "My strength is still not back," he wondered.

"I'll get Polites," Cassandra pushed off the railing and was gone before Odysseus could stop her. Idly, he noticed all the bruises on her arms and legs had healed, and smiled. At least one good thing had come of all this. The gaunt, abused girl who had confronted him in Hector's palace was gone, and in her place was an energetic, headstrong young woman. Penelope would really like her. The thought caused Odysseus pain, but, it was a good kind of pain.

Soon, Polites was there, holding a wineskin, and a small fruit about the size and shape of a date.

"What is that?" Odysseus eyed the fruit suspiciously.

"It's a lotus fruit—" Polites began, holding it up but Odysseus pushed his hand away.

"No!" That fruit had given him his family, and then cruelly taken it away. The scent of it hit his nose and he immediately felt sick. But yet... his hands shook and his knees went weak. He clenched his fists to keep them from showing.

"Captain," Polites began again, firmly. "Your body is craving the fruit, and you'll need to have a little every day if you are to recover your strength. You're just going to make yourself sick if you refuse."

"Fine," Odysseus took the fruit. As he bit into the skin, and the juice hit his tongue, he immediately felt all the tension in his muscles relax. The shaking of his hands and the pounding in his head ceased. The fruit was gone in seconds, and his throat went dry, immediately wishing for another. Polites offered the wineskin. He drank deeply, without protest. It was simply wine, taken from the supply in the hold. After several swallows, he looked at the wineskin, a plan forming its first images in his mind.

They beached the fleet on the beach Odysseus had spotted earlier, and gathered a team of men to go ashore, as well as several casks of the wine, and some of the gold they had stolen from Hector's palace all those months ago. In a small pouch tied to his belt, Odysseus carried a secret, just in case.

In all, there were twelve men, including Odysseus, Eurylochus, and Polites, as well as Cassandra and Asterion, who was content in his sling, looking out over Odysseus' shoulder with intelligent grey eyes.

They encountered no one as they climbed the first hill, and Odysseus spotted a bridge across to the eastern half of the island. The bridge was narrow, made of simple ropes and planks, and it swayed as he put his foot onto it. The wood was damp, from an afternoon rain perhaps, though Odysseus hadn't seen any clouds. He stepped across confidently, with the others following, until they were safely on the far side.

From up close, the sheep were even bigger than Odysseus had thought. Standing nearly as tall as a man at the shoulder, and curious, several came closer as they approached.

"Hey, this one likes me!" Polites exclaimed as one came close enough and began to lick his face. Polites tried to push it away gently, but it was insistent, so instead he began to scratch it under the chin. "Who's a good sheep? Who's a good sheep?"

"You've made a friend," Odysseus laughed, "but be careful, I still don't see the—"

"Who goes there?" A voice boomed out over the field.

"Shepherd..." Odysseus finished, looking toward the voice.