Finding Ithaka by Anna Harvey

Author:Anna Harvey
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2020-04-22T04:00:00+00:00

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As the silver light of Dawn had filtered across the sweeping bay, he had broken the news to the assembled men. At first they had protested, but had nonetheless gone about the preparations for the voyage, relieved to be putting to sea at last. On the morn of their departure, there was no sign of Kirke, but a black ram had been tethered close to their camp for sacrifice on their journey.

The voyage was as Kirke had described. During the day, they sailed under canvass and oars, hugging the sea-shore, making good progress in the southerly direction. At night, they sheltered on a sandy cove or shingle beach, hauling up the boat onto the beach and making camp for the night.

Close to the wide mouth of the river Acheron, they found the blind seer living in the sacred wood. They tracked his simple dwelling through the sight of a smoking fire not far inland. The old man, came out to meet them, walking slowly with a stick to guide his steps; the gods had clouded over the orbs in his creased face. He greeted them warmly in Kirke’s language.

“Greetings strangers, I have been expecting you.” He looked towards them with his unseeing eyes. “Please come and sit with me,” he beckoned them with his arm. “Tell me the nature of your business.”

Odysseus frowned, as he tried to make sense of the jumbled words. “We seek the seer-priest Teiresias.” The words came slowly as he tried to express himself in this foreign language, the sounds jumbling on his tongue like sand grains in a storm. “We come from the priestess Kirke, who said we must speak with you.”

“Basileos,” whispered Elpenor, the youngest of the warriors. When they had set sail sailed for Troy, he had scarcely been out of boyhood, his face covered in a soft down. But the young warrior had a sharp ear for language and had quickly picked up the local dialect from the novice maidens. “I can speak for you,” he said eagerly, “and tell you what the old man says.”

Odysseus nodded his head. “Go on then.”

Elpenor quickly repeated Odysseus’ words, transformed into an unfamiliar string of sounds to which the old man responded with a deep utterance. “Tiresias says that Kirke, the priestess, is well known for her wisdom and healing. If she honours you as a friend then he must do likewise. He offers you refreshments. Afterwards you will make a sacrifice to the gods of the Underworld to summon the spirits of the dead.”

“Very well,” Odysseus replied. He gestured the others to sit on the ground and called over one of the men to bring the black ram from the ship. The old man called inside to the hut and a young woman appeared, bearing a pitcher and beakers.

“This is my granddaughter,” Elpenor explained on behalf of their host. His eyes lingered on her slim body, as the young woman filled the vessels with wine. A blush rose across her cheeks, as she handed a beaker to each of the men, lowering her head modestly.

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