Chapter 14-p2

29 1 0
                                    

Eurylochus was true to his word as he bellowed orders to the fleet. They turned as one and fled west, rowing against the wind. Eurylochus drove the rowers harder than he'd ever done before, encouraging them with wine and jerky from their supplies.

Odysseus got in the benches and pulled an oar himself as the day turned to night, and they rowed on.

For two days, it seemed to work, and the storm grew no closer, though it didn't fade away either. The crew muttered among themselves anxiously, and grumbled with exertion. This wasn't an ordinary storm at all, and the men were growing tired.

"Where is that promised protection?" Odysseus snapped as Cassandra handed him a wineskin. She flinched as if at a whip-crack at the sound of his voice, and he softened immediately. "I'm sorry, I—"

"We're all tired," she said, shrugging off the moment. "I understand." She sat beside him as Eurylochus called the timing. Odysseus pushed and pulled on his oar as she spoke softly.

"The message was not complete," Cassandra said. "I do not know the full extent of what he wants from you, but, he has said he will hide you somewhere that his sons cannot reach."

"And what about the fleet. Will he hide them too?"

Cass shook her head, flinching from some inside voice. "600 men is too many to take on this journey. He suggests letting them die."

"I can't do that," Odysseus set his jaw and pulled harder on his oar. His muscles ached, but, his hands did not shake. Maybe now he was over the Lotus sickness? Or maybe it was just desperation. "I won't— wait, he's speaking to you now?"

"The gods do not communicate like its a conversation, they issue prophecies, sometimes I get words and sometimes I get images. This is—" she shuddered. "Like he is inside my head. He—" She stopped abruptly.

"Tell him," Odysseus looked up at the storm behind them, getting closer as the strength of his men began to fail. Any ordinary storm would have blown itself out by now, but this— Somehow Odysseus knew, that if he took his fleet into it, they would not all make it back out again. "Tell him, I'll do whatever he asks, if he makes sure my fleet gets home safely."

A look crossed Cassandra's face that Odysseus couldn't place. A combination of intense pain and... glee? It was gone in a flash, and she stood.

"There!" She pointed to the east. "Head directly for the storm wall."

Odysseus followed the point to see a bright spot against the storm clouds, like a shard of polished silver, reflecting the blue sky behind them.

"He has to promise that the fleet will get to Ithaca safely."

Cass looked at him, her eyes slightly unfocused. "They will reach Ithaca alive," she said. "Do you make the choice? Will you do what is asked of you?"

"What will be asked of me?" Odysseus asked, feeling trapped under his oar.

"He says... when the time comes, you will know what you should do. He demands that you do nothing. If you do nothing, you'll be safe for the rest of your life. If you go through with the action..."

"What action? What does that mean?"

"I don't know, there's no time! Sail for the portal!"

Odysseus stood up. "Eurylochus! Tell the fleet not to follow us!" He ran for the tiller. The man who had been slumped against it, fell free as Odysseus took over. "We're nearly there," Odysseus urged him, "We'll be through this soon. Keep going men!" He added, raising his voice, before throwing his weight against the tiller, turning the ship sharply once again, this time, toward the storm.

"Captain, what are you doing!?" Eurylochus cried.

"Trust me!" Odysseus shouted back. "Lower the sails!"

"But, Captain, the storm! We'll be torn apart!"

Odysseus turned to Cassandra, "Get below, take care of Asterion. This might get rough."

Cassandra did as she was told, as the sail was lowered, gingerly, the men were uncertain, but obeyed tiredly.

"Full speed ahead!" Odysseus cried.

The blue shard of sky stood incongruously against the wall of grey storm clouds and the dark sea beyond it. It was just large enough for a single ship to pass through, mast and sail and all.

Odysseus steered toward it expertly, judging the current as it increased, pulling them forward. The wind blew harder, howling in his ears, and he thought he could hear low laughter, though that may have been his imagination. Lightning began to boil in the clouds overhead, low flashes, followed by the rumble of thunder, but it was all still contained in the clouds.

The men continued to row doggedly, though they could hardly keep the rhythm and they flinched in fear as the prow of the ship entered the portal. It passed through as if through a cave entrance, and on the other side, the sun shone. First, the prow, where Eurylochus stood, still calling orders, then mast and the rowers benches. Odysseus, in the stern of the ship, kept his hands on the tiller as the ocean current began to shift, too late, trying to pull them back.

He looked up at the sky as the first raindrops hit his cheeks. A thunderbolt forked overhead, searing its image into his eyes, but then he was through, and the portal closed with a clap of thunder, leaving only silence.


Defying FateWhere stories live. Discover now