Page 62 of Odette's Vow

The three of them looked at each other, puzzled.

“What ships?” one of them asked me.

Before I had a chance to figure out what he meant, the hosts were back with freshly filled lotuses. The sweet fragrance of the blossoms and whatever they were filled with, what looked more like fish eggs upon closer inspection, was potent. My mouth watered, but I did not take the flower as the others did. Instead, I watched them closely as they ate. I watched their eyes glaze over and a euphoric expression wash over their haggard faces. A worrying suspicion wormed its way into my mind.

Turning to the man closest to me, I asked him, “What is your name?”

He stared at me blankly, smiling, and returned the question. “My name?”

That was it. We had to get out of here. I gently pushed away the flower offered by the native in front of me, who seemed once again to take no offence and continued to smile at me, and stood slowly. Slowly, so as not to spook anyone. So the natives wouldn’t turn on us. I kept a smile on my face as I politely bowed to them before scooping my hands under the armpits of each man until they were all standing.

“Come on, men. It’s time we leave. Thank these … people … for their time. We must leave them in peace and return to the ships.”

I may as well not have spoken. The men did not move. Frustrated, I looked around, but I could find nothing that would help me spur the men. I had to find a way to get them to come back to the ship, by force if necessary. If I returned without them, the rest of my men would remain antsy for the rest of the journey home to Ithaca.

I could think of only one thing.

Taking their belts from around their waists, with no complaints from any of them, I looped each one around their own necks, fastened them through, and then held the ends as if they were leashes.

As if my men were no better than dogs.

Tugging at them, they began to follow, though this time they resisted. Across my shoulder, I held tight to the belt ends and tugged. The men dug their heels in and wept, holding out their arms towards the Lotus-Eaters and their flowers.

The natives simply watched me struggle with them, sad looks adorning their faces. Grunting, I tried a different tactic, shiftingthe belt ends around until the men were in front of me and I could push them back to camp.

The Lotus-Eaters continued to watch as we left the clearing.

I checked behind me every so often to see if they followed us, but they did not. Not that they needed to track us; the men’s wailing was a clear siren to anyone in the near vicinity. Nothing I could do or say could stop them. They only wanted to return to the clearing.

By the time we made it to the beach, I was exhausted. Their friends approached, joyous at the men’s return. That joy turned to worry as they realised the men were no longer who they thought they were.

“What is wrong with them?”

“They’ve eaten something they shouldn’t have. A drug of some kind, I suspect. Tie them to the rowing benches. Tie them tightly. If we let them go, they’ll escape back into the bush behind us, and we’ll never find them.”

It took three men to load and tie down each drug-addled soldier in the ships. Meanwhile, I went to each ship to make sure its provisions were restocked with what the men had foraged from nearby the camp, and that we were ready to set sail away from this place immediately. I did not tell them about the native Lotus-Eaters or the fruit – what it could do to them. I was afraid that if I did, some of them might volunteer to stay.

War was a thing most men would rather forget.

Eventually, I made it to my own ship, where Odette was waiting for me with my trusted crew. Something flashed across her eyes, but it was not relief. It was something hard, gone before I knew it, her expression replaced by a smile. I shook it off as paranoia after seeing the effects of the plant and called for my men to set sail.

I watched the treeline as we left, half expecting the Lotus-Eaters to finally make an appearance, to offer up a rallying cryas the previous island’s inhabitants did. But, no one appeared. Unease filled me.

Why hadn’t they tried to stop us from leaving?

And why had Odette not been happy to see me return?

21

Odette

Rain was our constant companion for the next forty nights, a ceaseless torrent. The sky remained an unbroken canvas of lead grey, the sea churned angrily beneath us, and everyone was miserable. Each one of us was soaked through, the cold seeping into our bones – no matter if we were above board or not.

Odysseus had tasked me with drying out the fish, meats, and fruits, so that they might last longer on a journey that seemed never-ending. It was a near impossible task in this weather, and I’m sure all the other slave women would have agreed, should we have been able to see each other through the relentless hammering of rain from the sky.

Guilt and hunger gnawed at my gut, for I suspected it was my vow making this journey so arduous and long. Funny how hindsight could make you rethink things in the moment. I could barely remember the pain of losing Alcander. Even Lykas, though the pang of memory hurt my heart, struggled to contend with the pain of hunger and of my lips, now chapped and blistering from the brine of the olives I was practically living on, to make sure the men were given the majority of bread and cheeses that had not staled.

So, when we finally caught sight of the next island, I was not surprised to hear Odysseus yell to the men to head toward it. The island’s outline was dark and foreboding, like a dragon rising from cloud cover or fog, only for us to realise how huge it was. Coupled with the howling wind and the jagged rocks along the shoreline, I was unsure this islandwasn’ta monster disguised in nature – and yet it still presented as a promise of respite from the interminable ocean.

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