I turned to Telemachus, panic seeping into my voice. “You know your mother would not want this. Please. Do something.”
“Do you see how their kind speak to us when they are not kept in check? There is no respect here.” Odysseus threw his arm around Telemachus, making him flinch. “Son, it is time I show you how a true king handles his household.”
I could feel the shadow of death creeping into the courtyard then, leeching all warmth from the air. Time seemed to thicken and slow, seconds trudging past as if they were minutes, hours.
Come back to me.
Odysseus was saying something to Telemachus, and the prince bowed his head and turned to leave. But before he walked away, Telemachus’s eyes flickered to mine. Over the years, I had read a million silent messages through Penelope’s eyes, and I saw that same look in Telemachus’s gaze now, willing me to understand.
This is all I can do.His words came back to me, and it was in that moment I realized…my bindings were loose. With just a little force, I would be able to free my hands.
But if I freed myself, what then? I knew I wouldn’t have time to untie the others, nor could I leave them there to die. What if I somehow lured Odysseus away? If I provoked him into giving chase to me, could that allow the others a chance to escape?
This fragile burst of hope was quickly eclipsed by the sight of Telemachus dragging a naked, bound slave into the courtyard andplacing him at Odysseus’s feet.
My brother.
I began desperately pulling my wrists from their bindings, but panic made my hands clumsy as the king of Ithaca stared down at Melanthius.
“If you were a better man, I would give you a speech. I would speak of loyalty and honor and the price of each. But…” Odysseus tilted his head to the side, a slow, menacing movement. “You are not worthy of such words.”
With that, he bent toward Melanthius, yanking back his head. My brother’s eyes collided with mine, and I froze.
I could not think. Could not breathe.
“Nor are you worthy of a dignified death,” Odysseus said. “You chose to live in dishonor, and so shall you die in her humiliating embrace.”
With a grim smile, the king of Ithaca took his dagger to Melanthius’s face and carved off his nose.
The world tilted beneath me, my knees crumpling, making the noose pull tighter around my throat, choking back my screams.
Then Odysseus took the blade to my brother’s ears.
“Don’t look,” Autonoë gasped beside me. “Look away, Melantho.”
But I could not.
I could do nothing but watch as Melanthius began crawling on his stomach, desperate to get away, while Odysseus calmly discarded his dagger for his sword. With unhurried steps, the king of Ithaca kept pace with Melanthius, then kicked him onto his side before bringing his blade down on his bound wrists, then his ankles, striking again and again until each hand and foot was hacked clean off. Lastly, he took his blade to my brother’s groin, and only then did I look away.
“Wait until he’s dead, then hang the others,” Odysseus instructed, sword clattering to the ground.
“Should we not kill him now?” Telemachus asked weakly.
Odysseus’s eyes were utterly empty as he turned to his son. “No.Let him bleed. Let him suffer. Then feed the pieces to the dogs.”
A scream ripped from my throat as I finally wrenched my hands free, tugging the noose over my head. I ran to my brother, falling to my knees, desperate sobs cleaving my chest as I stared down at his mutilated body. He was still breathing, too-thin breaths, each one sounding more painful than the last. Around us, the pieces of him were strewn across the ground—his hands, his feet, and other parts I could not bear to look at.
The acidic tang of vomit crawled up my throat.
“Melanthius.” I wept, cradling him to me. “I’m here. Melanthius.”
His eyes were glassy, his face, so like my own, now barely recognizable. He tried to say something, but no sound escaped, just a steady river of blood pooling into his mouth from the hole where his nose had been.
“It’s all right. Don’t speak,” I told him.
But still he tried, eventually managing a small, choked word: “Forgive—”
“Shh. Don’t talk. Just rest, Melanthius.”
