Location: Ithaca
Time Remaining: 8 Months
Odysseus returned to the Temple of Athena with the largest of the second rate apples he could scrounge. It was a paltry offering compared to what he’d been asked to retrieve, but he thought it better than appearing empty-handed after months at sea. In truth, he was angry – they might have escaped Thálassas if the ship hadn’t betrayed them. Except for commending the lost men to the deep, the rest of their voyage had been uneventful. If not for the bitter taste of defeat and loss, it might even have been pleasant.
Athena appeared again, towering over the short man. Adresteia,once more in the form of an owl, returned to the goddess’s shoulder and dropped Thálassas’s coin in her hand. Odysseus knelt and offered up the small apple, gritting his teeth as he praised her magnanimity.
“Feigned piety doesn’t suit you, Odysseus,” Athena said, “As I said, I don’t need a humble man.”
Odysseus tossed the small apple on the ground and stood up, “We had it, we had the largest, best golden apple the tree of the Hesperides had to offer, and we were on our way back… and your ship betrayed us! Four of my men died getting the apple, and six of my men died because you took the wind from our sails and left us in the hands of pirates!”
“Is that how it happened, Adresteia?” Athena petted the owl on her shoulder, “Because I believe the men who died getting the apple never even saw it – were they not the men you left behind? Who would have returned safely from the voyage had you, in fact, taken them all the way to the garden with you?”
“Leaving them there, without knowing what I might be walking into or out of, was a smart decision.”
“Perhaps,” Athena said, “But it was still your decision. Do not lay their deaths at my feet.”
“That’s not fair,” Odysseus said petulantly.
“No, it’s misfortune,” Athena said, “Luck, good or bad, is always unfair, by definition. As to the rest of the men you lost, they would have sailed home with you had you heeded Thálassas’s demands from the beginning, rather than attempting a display of masculine bravado for your crew.”
“I was trying to keep the apple for you!”
“Were you?” Athena asked, “Thálassas was a pirate, you knew this, and I’m sure you realized that his men would not be leaving without their prize, no matter how the contest turned out. Were it not for your vain attempt to defend your pride, your men might still be alive.”
“I thought you said you didn’t need a humble man?”
“I didn’t. I needed an arrogant one, and you played your part well.”
“What?” Odysseus was now genuinely confused.
“Adresteia? Privacy, please.” The owl hooted, and the light around them dimmed until only the three of them were left, standing in a black void no other could see into.
Athena walked closer to Odysseus and spoke in hushed tones, “I told you I needed the apple delivered to someone, didn’t I? Not brought to me.”
“You’re saying I was supposed to hand it off to the pirate?”
Athena smiled, “And I was banking on your pride to ensure that no one suspected the hand off was voluntary. You fought him for it, your men shed blood trying to keep it, and now no one watching will suspect that – come Peleus and Thetis’s celebration – the apple will be in the exact hands I wished for it to be.”
Odysseus quietly seethed at the manipulation, “Why didn’t you tell me? We could have made it a convincing fight.”
“It wasn’t the fight that needed to be convincing – the deaths of your men at the pirates hand was needed to sell the deception, and you would not have agreed to sacrifice them. Furthermore, the pirates’ master kept them in the dark just as much as I kept you, and all-in-all for better reason – they are pirates, after all.”
They stood in silence for a moment, and then Athena spoke again, “You’ve played your part well, Odysseus. I will hold up my end of the bargain, and help you win fair Penelope of Sparta. I will have more work for you in the future, until then,” she flipped him the pirate’s coin, “good luck.”
No comments:
Post a Comment