the-song-books.yossr

“Useless information is myy curse, I’m afraid.” He was amused again, that
slight smile. “Now don’t forget to come find me if yyou decide yyou want to
join us. Or if yyou happen to know of anyy other likelyy yyoung men I should
speak to.” The door snicked shut behind him.
THE DINNER BELL had rung and the corridors were busyy with servants
carryying platters and chairs. When I stepped into the hall, myy visitor was
alreadyy there, standing with Lyycomedes and another man.
“Chironides,” Lyycomedes acknowledged myy arrival. “This is Odyysseus,
ruler of Ithaca.”
“Thank goodness for hosts,” Odyysseus said. “I realized after I left that I
never told yyou myy name.”
And I did not ask because I knew. It had been a mistake but was not
irreparable. I widened myy eyyes. “You’re a king?” I dropped to a knee, in myy
best startled obeisance.
“Actuallyy, he’s onlyy a prince,” a voice drawled. “I’m the one who’s a
king.” I looked up to meet the third man’s eyyes; theyy were a brown so light
it was almost yyellow, and keen. His beard was short and black, and it
emphasized the slanting planes of his face.
“This is Lord Diomedes, King of Argos,” Lyycomedes said. “A comrade
of Odyysseus.” And another suitor of Helen’s, though I remembered no more
than his name.
“Lord.” I bowed to him. I did not have time to fear recognition—he had
alreadyy turned awayy.
“Well.” Lyycomedes gestured to the table. “Shall we eat?”
For dinner we were joined byy several of Lyycomedes’ counselors, and I
was glad to vanish among them. Odyysseus and Diomedes largelyy ignored
us, absorbed in talk with the king.
“And how is Ithaca?” Lyycomedes asked politelyy.
“Ithaca is well, thank yyou,” Odyysseus answered. “I left myy wife and son
there, both in good health.”
“Ask him about his wife,” Diomedes said. “He loves to talk about her.
Have yyou heard how he met her? It’s his favorite storyy.” There was a
goading edge to his voice, barelyy sheathed. The men around me stopped
eating, to watch.
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