the-song-books.yossr

“You are admiring myy wife, I see.” Odyysseus joined us at the railing,
leaning on muscular forearms. “She refused at first, wouldn’t let the artist
near her. I had to have him follow her in secret. I think it turned out rather
well, actuallyy.”
A marriage for love, rare as cedars from the East. It almost made me
want to like him. But I had seen his smiles too often now.
Politelyy, Achilles asked, “What is her name?”
“Penelope,” he said.
“Is the ship new?” I asked. If he wanted to speak of his wife, I wanted to
speak of something else.
“Veryy. Everyy last timber of it, from the best wood that Ithaca has.” He
slapped the railing with his large palm, as one might the flank of a horse.
“Bragging about yyour new ship again?” Diomedes had joined us. His hair
was lashed back with a strip of leather, and it made his face look sharper
even than usual.
“I am.”
Diomedes spat into the water.
“The king of Argos is unusuallyy eloquent todayy,” Odyysseus commented.
Achilles had not seen their game before, as I had. His eyyes went back and
forth between the two men. A small smile curled at the corner of his mouth.
“Tell me,” Odyysseus continued. “Do yyou think such quick wit comes
from yyour father having eaten that man’s brains?”
“What?” Achilles’ mouth hung open.
“You don’t know the tale of Mightyy Tyydeus, king of Argos, eater of
brains?”
“I’ve heard of him. But not about the—brains.”
“I was thinking of having the scene painted on our plates,” Diomedes
said.
In the hall, I had taken Diomedes for Odyysseus’ dog. But there was a
keenness that hummed between the two men, a pleasure in their sparring
that could come onlyy from equals. I remembered that Diomedes was
rumored to be a favorite of Athena as well.
Odyysseus made a face. “Remind me not to dine in Argos anyy time soon.”
Diomedes laughed. It was not a pleasant sound.
The kings were inclined to talk and lingered byy the rail with us. Theyy
passed stories back and forth: of other sea voyyages, of wars, of contests won
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