18. Odette

18

Odette

I had not realised that accidental killing would feel so different from murder. The former was a wound that bled daily, no matter what I had tried to do to stop it, its poison leaking pus at every opportunity. The latter, however, that split-second moment when I had decided to do something about the men whose actions harmed the innocent. That was more effective than any bandage I had found so far.

It was power. This was what it felt like.

I had never known it before, never understood the allure of making a split-second decision, seeing it through, having no one stop you, and being fine with where the consequences led you. I understood now why men coveted it.

I would forever be grateful to my queen for gifting me the opportunity to experience it.

Of course, Hecuba was technically no longer a queen, already becoming a shell of the woman she once was. I noticed it as her shoulders curled in on themselves as Cassandra walked away. I recognised myself in her, how I was when we had been led away from my home.

That was what slavery took from you – your sense of self. I think I had expected it to be an immediate thing. That once you were a slave, your lack of control would be a slap in the face every day. But it was more sinister than that; sneakier. There were no physical shackles. Odysseus had still given me the illusion of control in my life, and so each action I had taken had still felt like my own. Until the guilt that I had unwittingly chosen this life for myself churned in my gut.

But now, there was no guilt. Now there were just actions and consequences. A bargain to be struck with every decision.

I suddenly understood Odysseus a lot better.

When he had stumbled into the tent, after the killings, I waited for the guilt to come. I waited for that feeling, buried in my heart and clawing at my stomach since Lykas had died, to desperately rise to the surface once again.

But there was no pain, only calm.

So, I waited for Odysseus’ beration instead. That didn’t come either.

Then he’d decided in Hecuba’s favour, and something in my brain clicked. It wasn’t about what was right, or fair. It was about justification. You just had to be right, and to be right you just had to be on the winning side. That was how wars were won, histories were written. By those who were right . Individual actions were no different.

I kept that thought in mind as we finally packed up and walked to the ships a day later, leaving Troy behind, this time once and for all.

I had never been on a boat before the Trojan Horse.

This time, as we boarded the twelve black ships with Odysseus’ remaining six hundred men, I wasn’t so nervous. Ahead of me, the men leered at Hecuba. I did not envy being the newest thing to keep their attention, though I certainly hadn’t attracted it, as sullen as I’d been. Hecuba, in contrast, made waves simply with her presence. Of course, word had spread around camp faster than we had boarded the ships of what she had done, what we had done, though no one paid me any mind.

Instead, they watched Hecuba sway through the shallow waters in her azure robes with a beaded belt. It was probably the last fine thing she had left. It draped across her svelte frame in a way that was tasteful but alluring, as all expensive garments were.

It wasn’t the right thing to wear.

The men reached out occasionally to stroke the fabric – and more – as they passed her, crude laughter following. Their touches were not enough to be considered brazen contact with Odysseus’ property, but enough to make her feel uncomfortable. I could tell by the way she tried to dodge their hands, even as her body swayed. Still, she kept her head down. She didn’t snap at them or swat them away like flies, as I expected her to. She just kept walking forward, her head bowed. Walking, walking, walking, all the way into the ocean.

I watched as the waves lapped at her hips, the turquoise of her dress turning a darker and darker blue, until she looked like she was rising from the ocean itself. When it came time to turn, to board the main black ship that Odysseus and myself would be on, to climb the ladder that would take her aboard, she kept walking.

Deeper and deeper into the ocean.

The men didn’t notice. She was a bit of fun, nothing to be concerned about. Their focus quickly shifted to the crates of spoils and valuables Odysseus was allowing them to take home to families they hadn’t seen in a decade. They jostled and barked orders at one another, struggling to load the heavy goods onto the ships without tipping into the surf.

Just before my queen waded further into the sea than was safe, the clouds above her parted with a crack, and sunlight poured through like a spear from the heavens. I watched as the light hit the surface of the water and danced across it, blinding the men boarding and on the ship, as they squinted and shielded their eyes from the sudden brilliance. A few cried out, stumbling back as a heavy chest of plunder slipped from their grasp and crashed into the shallows, splintering wood and sending coins tumbling into the frothy waves.

“Get it! Before it’s lost!” came the frantic shouts, and men dove into the water, scrambling to collect what they could.

I didn’t know where Odysseus was, somewhere behind me I suspected, busy making sure all his men got aboard. For surely, if he saw what I saw, he would sprint into the crashing waves to stop her.

But he didn’t.

For amidst the chaos, it seemed no one but myself noticed Hecuba walking deeper, until she seemed a part of the sea itself. I did not say a word. I did not cry out, for I had known that feeling that now engulfed my queen. That absolute abyss where happiness could never exist again. She had done what she needed to do, her vengeance complete. Now, she needed peace. I would not be the one to rob her of it.

Instead, I continued to watch her walk. She must have carried something in between the folds of her dress, something to weigh her down, I considered. Rocks that she had probably found around the camp as the men were busy packing away. Because she continued sinking beneath the waves that hit her belly, then her breasts. Until, eventually, her shoulders and head were submerged beneath a wave … and I never saw her again.

It wasn’t until much later, when everyone was aboard and settled on the well-benched ships, that I watched as Odysseus looked around us.

Turning to me, he frowned. “Odette, where is Hecuba?”

“Dead.”

A hush fell amongst the men.

“Dead? What do you mean, dead?”

“She wandered into the ocean before we boarded the ships. Did you not see it?” I tried to keep my tone neutral, but some of my sarcasm seeped through and a few of the men sniggered.

Odysseus merely had to send them all a look and that quickly stopped.

He took two steps towards me, until his toes were aligned with mine. “Rise.”

I complied. No point disobeying an order unless that disobedience had purpose.

“If you saw this act against the gods, why did you not stop it?”

“I tried, my lord,” I lied. He knew it. I could tell by his face he knew it. But if he and none of the other men had seen it, they could not prove my lie, could they? “But you know us women,” I continued. “Emotional creatures that we are, we don’t listen to reason when it is presented to us.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” one of the men piped up.

“Quiet!” Odysseus barked.

That was surprising. I’d never known him to snap at his men like that.

He turned back to face me, frowning. “You have been given too long a leash if you feel it’s okay to answer me with such disdain in that tone, after the freedoms and luxuries you have enjoyed.”

“I answered truthfully! I haven’t done anything wrong!” I protested.

Odysseus leaned in closer, whispering against the shell of my ear so that the other men could not hear, igniting a fire I despised myself for feeling. Every fibre of my being wanted to recoil, to lash out, yet the heat of his presence stirred something primal, something I wished I could crush.

“Have you not?” His words were a taunt that dripped with the power he wielded over me – power I hated, but could not deny.

“No.”

“No, what?”

“No, my lord,” I said between gritted teeth.

He grabbed at my chin roughly with a finger and thumb. “I won’t have insubordination on my ship. Do you hear me, Odette? I can’t have a mutiny while we travel across oceans and time to get back home to Ithaca.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He was so close now, every deep breath I took pushed my breasts into his chest. Still, he didn’t move. It was a power play in front of everyone. And for the first time in a long time, I had to fight the temptation to spit in his face.

“What has gotten into you, hmm? Where has the woman I’ve come to know gone?”

You have never known me.

I did not say it. I did not have to; he read it in my eyes.

“You are not free just because you are no longer on Trojan soil, do you understand me?” His tone remained quiet, for my ears only.

When I didn’t answer immediately, he squeezed my jaw tightly.

“Yes, my lord.” I held my head up and looked him in the eye as I said it. That was one of the lessons I had learnt from observing Queen Hecuba. They could make you a slave, but they could not strip you of your grace. Only the gods could do that.

He noted the slight uptick in my chin, the resolve in my eyes, the clenching of my jaw beneath the pad of his thumb.

“For your insolence, your privileges have been revoked until I say otherwise.” The words were so softly spoken I could see the men in my periphery trying to lean in to hear what their king was saying.

I almost laughed when they bounced back as Odysseus shouted his next words for all to hear.

“Get the ship ready to go by the time I get back from escorting Odette back to her proper place.”

I wondered where that might be.

“How long will you be, sir?”

“Long enough for you to get it done,” he snapped.

He really was out of sorts.

Removing his hand from my face, he used his other hand to capture my wrists before I could catch on to what he was doing. He hauled me towards the stern, where private quarters were reserved for him. The rest of the men, I guessed, would sleep on whichever patch of the deck they could make comfortable enough, or underneath the bow where there were a few makeshift beds amongst the storage.

Odysseus led me into the small, dark chamber that appeared to house nothing more than a wooden bed with a thin sliver of blankets for bedding, that large wooden chest that had once been in the tent we shared, and a small writing desk. Looking around, he grabbed one of the sheets from the bed, tore it with his teeth and one hand, and began to bind my wrists to the bedpost embedded in the floor. There would be no moving from here.

“Is this really necessary?”

Odysseus cast me a dark look, but said nothing. Instead, he tightened the restraints and then tugged on them. He left just enough breathing room that my hands could still get blood flow … just. Otherwise, there was no moving. The fact he’d tied them above my head while I sat on the ground meant I could not even manoeuvre my way up onto the bed for some comfort.

I was stuck on this dank wooden floor. He’d never tied me up before, not even when I had first come into the camp.

As if sensing my thoughts, Odysseus answered. “You think I want to do this? Do you think I’ve not had enough of war and death? Now is not the time to start defying me, Odette. You have to be seen as punished. That,” he said with one final harsh tug, “is why I do this.”

“Isn’t being your slave punishment enough?”

He rose then, towering over me, but even in the dark I could make out his forlorn expression. “Not as much as being your master.”

Then he turned and left, slamming the door and leaving me enveloped in complete darkness.

The door did not open for a long time. When it did, I pulled my head up from where it had been resting on the bedpost, surprised to see it wasn’t Odysseus, but one of the men.

Despite being constantly around them, I didn’t know all of their names. They had usually only spoken to each other after a day of fighting. I only ever came to know the ones who were injured and needed my help, and most of them hadn’t made it.

This one startled me a little.

“I didn’t expect you to be in here.”

I stared at him.

“I’m looking for Odysseus’ … Nevermind.”

I turned my head away from him.

Huffing, the man searched around the room, looking through the desk drawers and in the chest before he must have found whatever he was looking for and left.

I closed my eyes again.

The next time the door opened, it still wasn’t Odysseus. This time it was a man I recognised; I had served dinner to him at those war campfires. Matthias, they called him. A greedy man, who would always demand more than his portion by using his large body to tower over me until I would cave and place another helping onto his plate.

He leered at me. “So, that’s where he’s put you. On the floor, like a good little pup. We’ve all been wondering where you were.”

Again, I chose not to answer. Instead, I went to close my eyes and rest my head against the bedpost, ignoring him. If you didn’t give them attention, they got bored. He would go away soon enough. I heard his boots walk across the creaking floorboards as the ship rocked. We must have been almost finished with the first day of sailing. I was contemplating where we might be, when I felt a sharp sting on my scalp.

My eyes snapped open to see Matthias leering again, this time standing over me, his hand continuing to pull my head up sharply by my hair until I was looking him in his ugly face.

Some may have called him ruggedly handsome. Personally, I thought he looked like he’d had the mumps as a child and never fully recovered. His face was lumpy, his eyes too small for it, his nose large.

“Such a shame he won’t let you come out and play with us on deck,” he cooed.

I tried not to react, but I couldn’t help it. The thought made my lips pucker together in displeasure.

He laughed. Then he leaned in and licked my cheek from chin to temple. I squirmed, but he had that hold on my hair, making sure I wasn’t going anywhere.

“Mmm, not nearly as bitter as you look. Sweet, even. Oh, yes, I think the boys and I would most definitely like a taste of that. Keep pissing him off, bed-slave, and he might just let us.”

So, I did the only thing I could. I rolled towards him on my left hip, so I could get the momentum I needed. Matthias leaned in thinking I was actually going to cave to his disgusting ways; ugly, stupid fool. Instead, I swung my right leg back and put as much power behind it as I could as I kicked out at him.

I had been meaning to aim for his cock, but given my position, my leg went no higher than his kneecaps. Still, the blow landed and his legs immediately buckled, sending him to the floor with a crash as his brow hit the wooden bed frame and blood poured from that fat nose of his.

I let out a snort of laughter. I couldn’t help it.

Dazed, it took Matthias a few moments to come round. He groaned as he got to his feet. Then he looked down at me, still trying to suppress my laughter, before he gathered the blood in his mouth and spat it at me. It landed on the same cheek he’d licked.

Waiting until he left, I wiped the mingled blood and spit from my left cheek by rubbing it against my shoulder.

The third time the door opened, I was sure it would be Odysseus retiring for the night. I had learnt my lesson. My arms were numb and heavy from having them above my head for so long. The discomfort made me wriggle, but I could find no comfortable position on the hard floor. I had tried them all in what must have been, what, eight hours? If not more?

But, it wasn’t Odysseus. My heart sank. Because there in the doorway stood Matthias again, this time with two men either side of him.

“There she is, the bitch.”

Together, they crowded in. The room really wasn’t big enough for all of them. I tried to keep my laboured breathing even, knowing what was coming, but the sheen of sweat coating my skin smelt of fear.

Matthias grinned. “She knows what she’s going to get. Hold her down, you’ll get your turn,” he ordered the other two.

Taking a deep breath into my lungs, I screamed.

“Shut that bitch up, NOW!”

Again, I screamed. Hecuba had held cool decorum, but she’d also had a weapon. The only weapon I had right now was my voice.

The men tried to shove some cotton in my mouth, but I tossed my head back and forward, until it took the two of them to hold my head still and shove it in. By then, their hands, wrists, and forearms were close enough to my own bound hands that I gouged large scratch marks into them.

“Gods be damned! That little?—”

“Matthias.”

That voice, the solemn timbre of it. My body sighed in relief. He’d heard me.

“Lord Odysseus. I was just coming to fetch—, and well, then she—,” one of the boys started.

“She was trying to escape. So we sought to restrain her for you,” Matthias interjected.

“Out,” Odysseus pointed at the two sidekicks.

They scuttled away, their heads down, allowing Odysseus to step into the room.

“Thank you, Matthias.”

“You’re welcome, my lord.”

Thank him? Thank him? I would have raged against my restraints if I wasn’t having so much difficulty breathing with the rag.

“But tell me, if you were so busy trying to restrain her from escaping, why is she gagged?”

Matthias stuttered, stumbling over his words, searching for some excuse that would work.

“Shall we ask her?” Odysseus leaned forward and snatched the fabric out of my mouth.

I took a deep breath and gulped the fresh air into my lungs.

“Did he touch you?”

I took a few more breaths of air, followed by a few swallows to wet my parched throat before I answered. “Not like that,” I shook my head. “But he did lick my cheek, and spat on me.”

“Did he now?” Odysseus’ tone turned dangerous. “Have I done something to offend you, Matthias?”

“No, my lord.”

“Have I been a good king? A kind king? A just king?”

“You have.”

“Then enlighten me as to why you felt you could disrespect that which is mine.”

“She disrespected me first! Besides, she’s just a bed-slave?—”

THWACK. A slap across Matthias’ face, more humiliating than anything, as it brought tears to his eyes.

“Kneel,” Odysseus commanded.

I watched as Matthias complied, snivelling.

“Not towards me. Face the desk and rest your chin on it.”

Then, I saw the dagger Odysseus pulled from the sheath attached to his hip.

“Let’s examine this tongue the bed-slave claims licked her. You see, that way I’ll know if she was telling the truth or lying. Bed-slaves are known for their lies, and she’ll be punished if I find that to be the case.”

Matthias obeyed, whimpering – a strange sound to come out of one so physically large. But Odysseus had played it right, made it sound like he was just humiliating the man further. Matthias had no idea what was about to happen.

The dagger hit his tongue with a dull thud and quickly made its way through to the wood on the other side. Matthias screamed, unable to go anywhere as the blade lodged between his tongue and the desk. Odysseus grasped the hilt of the dagger and yanked it back out, before proceeding to bring it back down and fully sever Matthias’ tongue.

Blood immediately took its place, until Matthias had nothing but mouthfuls of blood in the cavity that was his mouth.

Odysseus took the tongue and placed it in Matthias’ hands. “Go and throw this overboard and see if one of the men will help you stem the bleeding. If you make it through nightfall, we’ll see if we can find you some proper aid at the next port.”

Matthias stumbled out of the room.

Shutting the door behind him, Odysseus collapsed into the desk chair and sighed.

“Thank you, for defending my honour,” I eventually said into the silence.

Odysseus leaned forward, his elbows balanced on his knees. “This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. What did you think the men were going to do when they learnt you were tied up in here?”

“You didn’t have to tie me up.”

“After you were insolent with me in front of everyone? And how would that have looked?”

When I didn’t answer, he continued. “Tell me, what would you have done if I hadn’t come? Truly?”

I bit the inside of my cheek instead of replying. Because I knew what he wanted – a confession that I had been brash and unthinking. That I had experienced a taste of power and was already giddy with it. That, left to my own devices, I would have been attacked and I would not have come out unscathed.

“I know she was your queen, but she had resources to do what she did. You both got lucky, incredibly lucky, to pull off that scene I walked into. And that’s likely because Hecuba sat at the right hand of Priam for years and knew how court politics worked. That’s how she lured Polymestor to his inevitable death. I understood why you did it, I forgave you your sins. But if I find you playing any more power games, you won’t win here. These are volatile men used to war, and I’m the king of an unforgiving mountainside. I don’t play games. I win wars.”

When I didn’t respond, when I couldn’t even look him in the eye, feeling like a chastised child, he asked, “Was our time together at Troy really so unpleasant for you?” Then he came closer, tipping up my chin. “Answer me.”

But before I could, something happened. We must have hit something, for the ship rolled as clothes might in a washing pail. Then the men were desperately crying out from the deck, trying to get the ship to cooperate with the howling winds that now swept the chamber door open, sea spray spilling into the room and falling fresh on my face.

“Wait here” Odysseus said, as he strode from the room and onto the deck to help the panicked soldiers.

I tugged at my restraints. Despite all the commotion, they still hung tight. “As if I have a choice.”