Odysseus Read online

  Odysseus

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Copyright

  Odysseus: The Greatest Hero of Them All

  Tony Robinson and Richard Curtis

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to Leslie and Phyllis Robinson, and to John Paul, and written in memory of Robert Graves.

  The original stories are of course by Homer.

  Chapter One

  The Golden Slag Heap

  Deep in the bushes the tiny puppy stood completely still. Occasionally, its eyes flicked up to the boy crouched beside it. He was sixteen, short, with dark hair. In one hand he held a rope and in the other a spear.

  Suddenly the puppy’s ears pricked up. The moment he and the boy had been waiting for had arrived. First there was a crashing sound, then a snorting sound, then a thundering sound, and suddenly a huge wild boar crashed, snorted and thundered out of the forest, coming straight at them. At first neither of them could believe how huge it was, and how fast it was running. The boar charged at them, its huge tusks shining, closer and closer, twenty metres, ten metres, only one metre away. In two seconds they’d both be dead, but neither moved. And then, fast as lightning, the boy tugged on the rope and – WHOOSH – the boar shot up into the air, and – SQUEAL – hung in mid-air, struggling and kicking, trapped in the boy’s net.

  ‘It worked!’ he shouted, and rushed forwards, his eyes shining.

  But it hadn’t worked. Because at that very moment, the rope snapped, and the huge animal crashed to the ground. The boy tried to run but there was no time. Wild with fury, the boar shook itself free of the net and charged. On the first charge it almost got him, but he dived out of the way just in time. The second time he wasn’t so lucky. The boy swerved, but the boar swerved too, and the boy felt a dreadful, searing pain as the huge white tusk cut deep into his leg. He yelled, the puppy squealed, the boar snorted in triumph and then – BANG – everything went black.

  The next thing the boy was aware of was the sound of two voices above him. He looked up, and saw two old men peering down.

  ‘My goodness,’ one of them said. ‘Look who it is!’

  ‘Yes,’ said the other, ‘it certainly is. It’s Odysseus, the King’s son.’

  And they were right. Lying there on the ground, blood pouring from his leg, was Odysseus, the King’s son – the boy who would grow up into one of the greatest heroes ever known. But there was nothing heroic about him now. He took one look at his leg, and the red pool of blood, and passed out again.

  When he woke, he thought he was dead and had gone to hell. All around him there were flames and chanting and drums. Dancers with huge painted masks whirled round him, screeching, yelling, and then rushing up to him and pouring oil on his wounded leg. Then suddenly one dancer broke away from the others. He was more frightening than the rest. He had an enormous red mask with a mad grinning mouth, which peered down into Odysseus’ face with wild staring eyes. If he wasn’t dead already, Odysseus was sure he was about to die.

  In a last wild gesture, he tore at the horrible mask to see the horrible face that must lie beneath it. But it wasn’t a horrible face at all. In fact, there behind the hideous red mask was… the smiling face of a rather pleasant, wrinkled old gentleman.

  ‘Hallo sunshine,’ he beamed. ‘Say hallo to your grandpa.’

  ‘Grandfather!’ said Odysseus in amazement. ‘I thought you’d died years ago.’

  ‘No,’ laughed the wizened old man. ‘They threw me out of court and pretended I was dead.’

  ‘Why would they do that?’ asked Odysseus.

  ‘Because I was always telling lies and nicking things.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Odysseus.

  ‘Not quite what you’d expect of a member of the Royal Family, eh?’ said his grandfather, and then burst out laughing again.

  ‘It certainly isn’t,’ agreed Odysseus, but couldn’t resist smiling himself. He was rather getting to like the sound of the old man’s voice.

  ‘You see,’ said his grandpa, ‘I wouldn’t be too sure it’s always good to be too good. When the going gets tough, it’s not a bad idea to be a little crafty once in a while, do a little nicking here, tell the odd fib there.’ He paused, ‘For instance, will you be in trouble when you get home?’

  ‘Not half,’ said Odysseus. ‘I’m not supposed to go boar hunting alone. I’ll be in so much trouble I’ll wish I’d never been born.’

  ‘Then tell them you fell down a mine shaft and hurt your leg.’

  ‘But that would be lying!’ said Odysseus.

  ‘Exactly,’ said his grandpa, and let out the loudest laugh yet.

  * * *

  ‘Where have you been?’ roared Odysseus’ father, the King, when his son got back to the palace.

  ‘I fell down a mine shaft,’ said Odysseus.

  ‘Oh, well, fair enough,’ said his dad. ‘I thought you might have gone off boar hunting again, and then there would have been trouble.’

  ‘Oh, no, I’d never do that,’ said Odysseus quickly, and you could have sworn that a little grin, just like his grandfather’s, spread over his face.

  ‘Good,’ said his father. He was sitting on a large, bronze throne at the end of a huge, crumbling hall: the grandest hall in the dilapidated palace. Beside him sat the Queen, who was very worried about Odysseus’ leg, now that she knew it hadn’t been caused by him boar hunting on his own.

  ‘Then take a look at this. Tell me what you make of it.’ He handed Odysseus a golden scroll with grand silver and gold lettering on it.

  Odysseus read it through carefully. It said:

  Royal Kings and Princes of Greece – greetings. The time has come when my daughter, Helen, the most beautiful girl in the world, shall be married. If you want to marry her, then turn up at my palace on the night of the next full moon; that’s when I’ll decide. If you don’t want to marry her, you’re a fool.

  Yours in great majesty,

  Tyndareus, King of Sparta

  And then, over the page, there was an extra bit:

  P.S. Bring a present.

  Odysseus’ mother was very excited. Sparta was one of the greatest Kingdoms in the land, and Tyndareus a great and powerful King. ‘Imagine the glory,’ she chirped, ‘if you married Helen. You wouldn’t just be King of this tiny island. You’d be King of Sparta as well.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Odysseus, without much enthusiasm. He was very fond of the tiny island of Ithaca, and very happy to be King of it and nowhere else; least of all Sparta, where he’d heard that people took things rather seriously and never told jokes.

  ‘What about the present?’ he asked.

  ‘Take this leather purse,’ said his father. ‘It holds twenty gold pieces – it’s all we can afford. Give them to Tyndareus and bring us back a daughter-in-law.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ mumbled Odysseus, and limped out of the chamber, his leg still hurting badly.

  Back in his room, his old nurse tended to the wound.

  ‘It’s going to leave an awful scar,’ she fussed.

  ‘I wouldn’t worry,’ said Odysseus. ‘Means you’ll be able to recognise me if I ever get my head cut off.’

  ‘Oh, you bad boy,’ she scolded, but they both had a good laugh. And Odysseus thought… mm, I wonder how many good laughs I’d get married to the most beautiful woman in the world. I’m not sure about the idea – got a feeling she might be trouble. Still… and he bounced the twenty gold pieces in his hands, and winced a bit as the bandage went on.

  *
* *

  Five days later, Odysseus found himself at the palace of King Tyndareus. The moon was full, and the courtyard was absolutely full as well. Everywhere there were Princes.

  You have never seen so many Princes in one place. There were tall ones, short ones, medium-sized ones. There was one with a fat belly and a spotty nose, one with a thin belly and a spotty nose, and one very large one with a perfectly nice nose, but gigantic, sticking-out ears. And right at the front stood an enormous bearded one with a leopard skin over his head and shoulders, towering over all the rest.

  Not that they were behaving as you would think Princes should. They were pushing and shoving each other left and right, all trying to get closer to the front to catch a glimpse of Helen. She was after all the most beautiful girl in the world, and they had all come in the hope of marrying her. But so far, she hadn’t put in an appearance, and tempers were getting short.

  Then suddenly a trumpet sounded, and a voice announced: ‘Silence. Helen will now take the evening air.’

  And there was silence. And everyone waited. And then, high on the battlements above them, a little door opened and the Princes gasped with wonder.

  Out, into the moonlight, stepped Helen. On top of the palace wall she strolled by the light of the moon, a veil hanging elegantly over her face, and a train hanging behind her, held by a rather sweet-looking, perky girl.

  It was a beautiful sight, and for a moment, the evening was still and silent. Only for a moment though, for suddenly all the Princes started pushing forward to get a better look, and trouble started. Someone fell, and then someone else fell on top of him, and the one who fell punched the one who’d pushed him and soon there was a full fight going on.

  Odysseus, cunning as ever, took care to avoid it. He was so short he hadn’t seen a thing when Helen first came out, so now he wriggled his way forward, past punches and between legs, until only one thing was blocking his view. Or rather two things. The two gigantic ears of the gigantic Prince.

  ‘Excuse me,’ said Odysseus, tapping him on the shoulder. ‘What was your name again?’

  ‘Prince Ajax,’ replied the giant Prince. ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, there’s someone at the back wants a word with you; says it’s important.’

  ‘Oh, fine,’ said Big Ajax and, as he disappeared, Odysseus took his place, and looked up to where Helen was.

  ‘Is that all there is to see?” he complained. ‘Some girl with a cloth over her head? How do I know if I fancy her or not? She might have two noses and three eyes, for all I know.’

  ‘She’d still be better looking than you,’ said a voice from above him. It was the perky girl carrying Helen’s train, and she was smiling straight at him. Odysseus liked the look of her, and was just about to smile back when, VUMP, a terrific blow smacked on the back of his head and he smashed to the ground. Above him hovered a huge fist. It was the fist of Big Ajax and he was not looking happy.

  ‘You little liar,’ he thundered. ‘No one wanted to see me.’

  ‘Didn’t they?’ said Odysseus innocently and tried to pull off the helmet which was now jammed right down over his eyes. It wasn’t an easy job and it didn’t help that someone seemed to be laughing at him. When at last he did pull it off, he saw who it was. Disappearing through the door at the end of the battlements was the girl with the train, just laughing and laughing and laughing.

  That evening, Odysseus was sitting in the courtyard when high above his head he heard the girl’s laugh again. It came from a room three floors up, with a tiny window, and Odysseus thought, mm, why not take a look?

  So he grabbed some ivy, climbed up and very cautiously peered through the window. Inside were two girls. The one facing him was the laughing girl from the battlements. She was combing the hair of another girl he could hardly see. But then suddenly she turned and Odysseus froze. He knew at once who it was: she was thirteen or fourteen and she was incredibly beautiful. It was Helen.

  ‘Give me a sweet, Penelope,’ she said.

  But Penelope, laughing as ever, grabbed a huge box of chocolates and hid them behind her back.

  ‘If you have any more of these,’ she said, ‘you’ll be Helen the fat, not Helen the beautiful.’

  ‘Nonsense. I’m sure if I were fat, I’d still be beautiful,’ replied Helen, and snatched the chocolates back. ‘Let’s see…’

  ‘Which one are you going to choose?’ asked Penelope.

  ‘The orange cream or the hazelnut cluster, I think,’ replied Helen thoughtfully.

  ‘No, silly billy. Which Prince?’

  ‘Oh, that,’ said Helen, taking the orange cream and the hazelnut cluster. ‘The richest, I suppose – I’m not bothered really. I mean, they’re all stupid, aren’t they? Did you see that silly little one with the helmet jammed over his face?’

  They both laughed, remembering Odysseus. Fortunately for him though, they were spluttering so much with giggles that he couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying. He peered in even closer, when suddenly Penelope looked up, and seemed to stare straight at him. Quickly he ducked down below the window sill. Had she seen him? He thought not.

  A few seconds later he summoned up the courage to peer over the window sill again, and saw Penelope turn away, walk over to the bed, take something from underneath it and stride back towards the window. He ducked again, quickly.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Helen. ‘Is there someone at the window?’

  ‘No,’ said Penelope. ‘I’m just emptying the chamber pot.’ And, without a second’s warning, she flung the contents out of the window, right on top of Odysseus’ head.

  ‘Mind you,’ she said, turning back into the room, ‘if there had been someone at the window, it would have served him right for snooping, wouldn’t it? Now, let’s have another laugh about that Prince with the helmet jammed over his eyes…’

  But by that time, Odysseus had lost interest in the conversation. He needed a wash, because he was covered in something, and it wasn’t rose-water.

  * * *

  Next morning was the morning of the great decision.

  The Princes were all spruce and tidy and lined up to give their presents to Helen’s father.

  At the front was Menelaus, the richest man in Greece. He was hairy and huge and ugly but, boy, was he rich!

  At the back was Odysseus, the poorest Prince of the lot, with his twenty pieces of gold.

  The trumpet sounded and Menelaus stepped forward. ‘Tyndareus, King of Sparta,’ he announced, ‘I humbly offer you a thousand gold pieces, twenty chests of silver, and five hundred gold goblets.’

  CRASH! Menelaus’ slaves dropped them on the floor in front of the King.

  GULP! Odysseus knew he didn’t stand much chance. What a waste of twenty gold pieces, he thought, fingering his purse.

  Next came Menelaus’ brother, Agamemnon, the finest soldier in Greece. He was the huge one in the leopard skin, and there were diamonds where the eyes of the leopard should have been.

  ‘I present fifty suits of armour, two hundred helmets, and a thousand assorted daggers,’ he called out.

  CRASH! they went on the pile.

  GULP! Odysseus knew he had no chance at all, and he slipped all but a handful of the gold pieces back into his pocket. No point wasting it.

  And so on, one after another, the Princes added their gifts until there was a huge gold slag heap in front of King Tyndareus.

  At last it was Odysseus’ turn. He stepped forward bravely. ‘I’m the Crown Prince of the island kingdom of Ithaca. I humbly offer you, ahm, three gold pieces,’ he announced, and waited for the laughter.

  But no one was listening, because just at that moment, a fight started. Big Ajax grabbed one of the spotty-nosed Princes and was banging his head against the wall.

  ‘Listen, Spotty,’ he was saying, ‘don’t tell me I won’t get her. I haven’t come all this way for nothing. I’m going to marry Helen, and that’s that.’

  ‘Rubbish!’ shouted Agamemnon, ‘I am!’ and sent
Ajax crashing to the floor.

  ‘No, I am!’ yelled everyone else, and whoopsidaisy, suddenly they were all fighting again. Odysseus ducked as tables went crashing and bodies went flying. It was all quite good natured, until suddenly there was a glint of bronze as a dagger was drawn.

  In a flash, Odysseus sprinted to the top of the treasure and yelled, ‘Stop!’

  And – amazingly – everyone did. In mid punch. They all turned and stared at the small chap on top of the gold pile.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Menelaus.

  ‘One of the eyes has dropped out of Agamemnon’s leopard,’ replied Odysseus.

  ‘Oh no,’ moaned Agamemnon. ‘That’s my best leopard.’

  ‘I know,’ said Odysseus. ‘We’ve all got our best clothes on and they’ll be ruined if we’re not careful.’

  ‘Good point,’ agreed Agamemnon.

  ‘Also, just by the way, someone might get killed,’ added Odysseus. ‘So, let’s take a vow.’

  ‘What vow?’

  ‘Let’s take a vow that Helen can marry whoever she wants to, and that no one will try to take her away from him, and… if anyone does ever try, let’s swear that all of us will join together and get her back.’ ‘Good idea,’ said Agamemnon. Everyone agreed. Even Big Ajax. And so it was that two minutes later they were all standing in a circle in the middle of the room; the most powerful men in the world all together. Drawing their daggers, they cut their right hands, and, as the blood dripped on to the pile of gold, they swore Odysseus’ vow: Helen could marry whom she liked, and the Princes would always defend them both. There was silence, broken only by the drip of red blood on gold.

  Suddenly a girl’s voice spoke out behind them. ‘I’ve made my choice.’ The Princes all turned. There stood Helen, dressed in a short white dress with daisies in her hair. She looked beautiful, and each one knew at that moment that he wished she’d choose him. This was a woman worth fighting for.

  ‘And the man I’ve chosen is… ahm…’