Page 44 of Odette's Vow

Someone was shaking my shoulders, but it took me what felt like a lifetime to gather my bearings. Eventually, my senses returned. My knees were steadfast in the dirt, my body limp with shaking, and whoever was holding me had rough calluses on their skin. Then Odysseus’ voice, gravelly, like those mountains on Ithaca he had told me about, echoed through my ears.

“What in the gods’ names were you thinking?”

Blinking my eyes open, I saw Odysseus leaning over me, a worried look painted across his face.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I grumbled, shaking his hands off, while his touch lingered on my skin like a brand. I went to stand, missed my footing slightly, and felt his strong hand encircle my waist. His eyes narrowed as he held me, and my pulse quickened at the proximity of our bodies.

“You were unconscious for many minutes. You are not fine,” he frowned at me.

I glared at him, pushing away as I steadied myself. “I … am fine.”

Odysseus allowed me to step away, but the space between us remained charged. I stared at him, taking in the way the light caught the rugged contours of his face, the intensity in his look that seemed to search for something within me. As if sensing the direction of my thoughts, his eyes dragged down my body, assessing me. For injuries, I told myself, though that did not stop my thighs from clenching. To break the tension, I softly cleared my voice.

“Last night, before you left, you told me that you needed the Palladium. That it was the last thing you needed in order to win this war once and for all. Why?”

Odyssus scratched his jaw, and I could practically hear the rough bristles of his beard against his palm, though we still stood apart. “Well, seeing as you gave me the idea, I suppose I can share with you.”

“Gave you the idea for what?”

“We are going to build them a horse.”

“A horse?”

“A dead horse.”

It took my mind a minute to remember the words I said to him weeks ago. “I don’t understand …”

“It will be the largest wooden statue ever built. We will fill it with men and then hide our boats further along the coastline with the rest of our soldiers. The Trojans will think it is a peace offering to the gods, and when they take it into the city of Troy for themselves, we will be behind the citadel walls. We can take Troy for our own – all thanks to a dead horse. Do you see?”

He’d moved towards me during his impassioned speech until his palms brushed my elbows. Even the lightest touch sent a wave of warmth through me.

I did see. It was ingenious, as Odysseus’ plans tended to be. I just didn’t understand what it had to do with the Palladium, and there was just one small wrinkle in his plan. “How do you know the Trojans will take it in? How do you know they won’t just burn it where it stands?”

“The Palladium will hang around its neck to convince them it is a gift from Athena.”

“Athena’s Palladium? The Trojans will know it is missing by now. You really think they are going to be grateful to get back what you stole?”

“Mmm,” he replied, his cheek now resting against the top of my head as he pulled me in for a hug. His embrace was warm, solid, and for a moment, I allowed myself to sink into it, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against mine. I succumbed to his touch, while Athena’s words echoed relentlessly in my mind.

I did not want this man dead, and I was tied to my vow.

For as long as I couldn’t return home, he could not either.

The words of wisdom Lady Athena had offered were spoken through the mouths of women; women her heroes trusted with their every confidence.

“Every minute you waste over the Palladium is just that – a wasted minute,” I told Odysseus. “You have six days before the Trojans will expect war to resume, following Achilles’ funeral games. I suggest you start building that horse.”

15

Οdysseus

Irecruited Epeius, a master carpenter, to build the wooden horse. With him as the men’s instructor, we managed to complete the statue within five days. When we were done, we watched as the remaining men and those we had gathered during our time at war boarded the ships. Our tents had been taken down; we’d left the burnt pyres of our dead standing. A few dead men remained on the shore. All to convince the Trojans that we had retreated. And left the dead horse in our place.

To the Trojans, it would look like a solid structure, an offering to one of the gods for our safe passage and return to Greece. On the inside, it was hollow.

As I watched Odette board my ship, the waves lapping at and rocking the boat, a shawl pulled tightly around her shoulders and the moonlight shining down on her, I felt my own ribcage hollow.

Whatever was to happen now was at the mercy of the gods.

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