Page 30 of Odette's Vow

Sweat.

Not mine, not Diomedes’ – I knew his as well as my own – but another.

A Trojan’s.

I motioned to Diomedes to crouch below the tall grass and he immediately followed my order, despite the fact we were equals both in our respective home cities and on the battlefield. Together, we scanned the area and there was a poke in my shoulder when Diomedes spotted him first.

The man was moving quickly, quicker than either of us as he strode through the thick grass. Diomedes motioned to me that he was going to circle around, on his belly like a snake, and capture the man from behind. I nodded my agreement and crawled forward to capture the man from the front in a pincer movement.

The only signal I got that Diomedes had achieved his quest was a sharp, surprisingly high-pitched yelp. The sound was far too high for Diomedes’ guttural tones, so I stood, moving quickly to the source.

I found Diomedes with a grin on his face as he held a rather ugly man in a chokehold. The man, who reminded me of a warthog, was kicking and flailing to no avail – he was far too short. Diomedes’ strength alone could lift him off the ground. But he was a fighter, that much was clear by the way he bared his teeth at me.

Time for me to break him.

Over the years, I had learned that breaking a man could take many forms. As a king, diplomacy was your blade. You had to instill the fear of the gods in your people, while showing just enough mercy to hold their loyalty. Cross that line, and thegods would make their displeasure known, and their retribution unpleasant.

With fellow kings, fear alone would not suffice. You had to appeal to their pride, their duty, their honour. You had to outmaneuver them, play the game more shrewdly than they ever could.

But soldiers, especially enemy soldiers, required something far more visceral. You had to show them death, strip away their hope, until the presence of Thanatos lingered around them. Your every move became a ritual, a summons for the God of Death to claim what was his.

And I’d become adept at this.

I unsheathed the blade at my side, dangling it in my fingers, as if I were happy to be careless with it. As if I welcomed the cutting of flesh, regardless if it were my own.

That was tactic one.

Then, I smiled. Not a smile that I would offer Penelope, or even Odette. A smile that did not reach my eyes. One that left them feeling as cold as I was when I inevitably plunged a weapon into their body and bled all the warmth, all the colour, all the life out of them.

Tactic two.

Already the man’s grimace wavered as I closed the gap between us with small, slow steps.

“Do you know who I am?” I asked him softly.

That was tactic three – softly does it. There was something far more menacing about a man in control of his voice than one wildly screaming. As if he’d take his time carving you up. It was an effective tactic. Usually.

“Grecian scum!” the man spat at me. Literally.

Very well.

“They call me Odysseus. They speak of me as a patient man. A clever man. But, after years of slaughter on the battlefield –endless, mind-numbing years of it – I find myself bored. Quick kills no longer satisfy me. I think it’s time I tried something new. Perhaps, with you, I can practise patience again. Take my time. Peel off your skin inch by inch until you’re willing to talk. Then cut out your tongue if I know your so-called truth is a lie. Yes. I think I might rather enjoy that.”

I stepped closer now, until I could smell the man’s rotten breath. He would also be able to hear Diomedes breathing against the shell of his ear. We were all so close. The man tried to hide it, but he couldn’t – we knew he was trembling.

“What say you, Diomedes? Shall we have some fun with the Trojan?”

My friend squeezed the Trojan’s neck until his eyes bulged slightly.

“Wait!” he choked out.

“Why?”

“I can tell you,” he gasped, desperately clawing at Diomedes’ forearm. He barely managed to scratch it.

“Tell me what?” I purposefully made my voice sound bored, neutral even.

“I can tell you how we position ourselves, and how our allies do, too.”

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