A sailor was sitting in a small rowing boat, eyeing us curiously. We were, after all, an unusual sight—a bedraggled collection of women with blood drying beneath our fingernails and tears staining our cheeks. But mercifully, the man did not ask any questions. Penelope had paid the sailors generously for our passage and their discretion, using a portion of the gifts the suitors had given her.
I stared at the glittering silver path stretching toward the horizon,then lowered my gaze to my hands, still stained with my brother’s blood.
Beside me, Telemachus was speaking in a low, urgent voice to the other handmaids.
“Father told me of an island—Aeaea. A sorceress named Circe lives there. She is feared by men, but Father said she offers sanctuary to lost women. Something to do with Circe not being able to help her niece, so now she helps others. He lived beside the sorceress for a year and saw all manner of women welcomed to her shores. That is where you should go.”
“Why should we believe a word your father says?” Actoris spat.
“Where else do you propose?” Autonoë murmured.
“It’s worth a shot, surely?” Hippodamia said.
“Who’s to say this Circe will welcome us?” Eurynome interjected. “You say she’s a sorceress? She sounds dangerous—”
“I admire any woman feared by men,” Skaris interrupted. “I say we find the witch.”
“Ask for her hospitality, and by our divine laws, she will have to oblige.” Telemachus motioned to the sailor waiting in the rowing boat. “I have told him the directions my father gave me. They should get you close enough.”
“‘Close enough.’ That’s reassuring,” Actoris muttered.
“You must go,” Telemachus urged. “Now.”
I had been half listening to their debate, my mind wandering listlessly, but now I turned, glare sharp.
“We cannot go yet,” I said.
Telemachus stared at me. “Why not?”
“Penelope is not here.”
The others shared a look, shifting uncomfortably.
“Melantho—” Hippodamia tried.
“She is coming,” I said. “I know she is.”
“We have to go—”
“Thengo.”
An uneasy silence followed. It was Telemachus who broke it first.
“We can wait a little longer,” he relented. “But only a little while.The rest of you should board the ship now.”
One by one, the handmaids clambered into the small rowing boat. Only Eurynome hugged Telemachus goodbye. The prince tried not to look wounded by this, but I saw the tear he quickly dashed away as we watched the boat glide through the darkness toward the larger ship waiting just beyond the shallow waters.
“She knew, didn’t she?” he said to me after a time. “My mother knew of Odysseus’s plan.”
I sighed. “Of course she did, Telemachus.”
“And the pirates? Was that her doing?”
I said nothing, but Telemachus seemed to take my silence as confirmation. Through the silvery darkness, I could just make out five shadows in the distance, clambering onto the ship.
“Why did you defy your father’s orders?” I asked.
“Because I knew it was what my mother wanted,” Telemachus whispered. “And she is always right.”
