Page 64 of Odette's Vow

Odysseus looked around, as did I and everyone else. But there was nothing other than the original provisions I had already clocked – the cheese, the milk, the sheep, the fire. I watched as Odysseus’ eyes focused on the fire.

“You plan on blinding the beast?” I hissed.

Odysseus shrugged. “We could sharpen one of the logs and heat it in the fire first. We have time.”

“And when he is blindly scrambling for us? He could wipe us out with a sweep of his arm, whether he could see or not.”

Odysseus looked around, scanning the cave. Even in the dim light of the bonfire, I could see his eyes taking in every detail, every possibility, until he moved with purpose towards a long, thick branch. “Here, this will do.”

Even as he yanked the branch free from the bonfire, his movements were fluid. He laid the branch on the ground and stripped it of its bark, his hands moving with practiced efficiency.

“We need to sharpen one end,” he said to another of the men, not looking up.

One of the younger boys handed him a jagged rock. Odysseus took it without a word. As he worked, I couldn’t help but watch him, noting the set of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes, the bulge of his forearms.

I crouched down beside him, while the other men in the cave looked for other ways out, deliberately giving us space. “Odysseus, what happens after this, hmm?”

He didn’t pause in his work, but I saw his eyes flicker with something.

“This plan of yours – do you ever think about the lives you gamble with your schemes?”

The muscle in his jaw tightened. “Every day. But right now, we have to survive. We can’t afford distractions.”

“It’s not about distractions, Odysseus. It’s the way you treat us all like we’re pawns supposed to just go along with your game. I used to think it was just me you did this to, but what you’ve pulled the men into …?”

The stake continued to take shape, the point sharpening under his skilled hands as he rebutted. “So what would you have me do? Sit and wait for the gods to decide our fate? I’ll let you in on a little secret, Odette. They don’t give a damn. I’m trying to save us. And yes, every plan carries risk, Odette. But we don’t have the luxury of playing it safe.”

I didn’t say anything to that. I couldn’t; he wasn’t wrong. Instead, the silence between us became thick until the stake was ready and Odysseus was turning it in his hands, inspecting it.

“This will do,” he told me, his voice resolute.

He met my eyes, and for a moment, the barrier seemed to crumble. Everything that had happened between us since he’d been injured washed over me. The absolute terror that filled me at the prospect of being handed over to another Grecian man.At becoming a new slave; at an unknown territory once again. Then the kiss. Theheatthat had travelled through my body. The war ending, the sadnessandrelief I’d been flooded with. The confusion that had followed at that realisation. The terror of what came next. The thrill of being in Hecuba’s presence, the elation of power, the crumbling feeling of losing it as quickly as I’d got it. And the rest … the rest had just felt like survival.

And through it all, he had been there beside me, my only constant in the horrors of war.

And I couldn’t figure out anymore which parts he was responsible for, and which parts he kept me safe from. All I knew was that I didn’t want to lose the one constant I had. It left me with no choice but to trust him.

“Trust me, Odette,” he said softly, as if he’d heard my thoughts. “We’ll get through this.”

The Cyclops’ snores grew louder, jolting me out of the moment, and I realised my heart was hammering so hard against my chest that I could hear it in my ears. This was it. But as Odysseus stood, stake in hand, a thought struck me.

I grabbed Odysseus’ forearm. “Wait.”

“What?”

“Once you stab him, we’ll still need a way to get out without being caught. He’ll be blinded, but not helpless.”

Odysseus frowned. “I know that. We’ll use his sheep,” he said, as if it wasn’t the most obvious solution in the world.

“The sheep?”

“We can cling to the underside of their bellies when he lets them out to graze. He’ll feel their backs but not their undersides. It’s our best chance.”

It was genius, and yet it angered me that he hadn’t thought to explain that beforehand.

His eyes searched mine, but when he saw my eyes harden, he moved on with a nod, signalling to others and quietly explainingthe plan. The men’s expressions shifted in understanding, fear mingling with hope. It was a risky plan, but it was all we had.

While the men moved towards the sheep, Odysseus moved towards the slumbering beast. I stood torn between the two.

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