Argos (21 page)

At the last moment, I threw my body to the side. The rhinoceros, blinded by fury, had no chance to stop its advance. It ploughed into the gate with bone shattering force, smashing straight through and into the stone wall behind. Butal and I were showered with fragments of wood but we could not pause.

Around and above us, the crowd was mad with excitement. They hadn't seen death, but by the gods, they had certainly been entertained.

There was no need to communicate my desires to Butal now. The other dog seemed to sense what I wanted and followed me obediently as I tore through the gaping hole in the gate. Inside the holding chamber, the rhinoceros, a crumpled mass against the
wall, was slowly getting to its feet, shaking its great head angrily.

I glanced around, taking note of another large gate nearby. It appeared locked and my spirits sank at the sight. It would be difficult to deceive the beast a second time but there was no other option. Just as I was mustering up the courage to do just that, the rhinoceros got to its feet. Armed men were approaching warily, shouting to each other, their attention fixed on the greater threat. Butal and I were largely ignored. For now.

I thought perhaps the rhinoceros might go for me or Butal again, but it seemed that another idea seeped into its tiny brain. Freedom. It knew this other gate was the only thing that separated it from the outside world. It could probably smell the fresh salt tang of the nearby sea. After weeks of confinement, it was too tempting a prize.

As Butal, the guards, and I watched, the rhinoceros threw itself at this other gate. It shook. There was a sound of splintering wood but the gate held. Panicking, one of the guards threw a spear at the rhinoceros but it slid harmlessly off the thick hide. The guards should have used a net and tried to recapture it but scared men do not usually use their brains. I could imagine how furious Meges would be if the beast was killed without spectacle or applause.

The guards' blood was up now. More spears were thrown. Some found their mark. The rhinoceros bellowed in pain and anger. It turned to face its aggressors and charged them, crushing two men foolish enough not to scatter before its fury. The surviving men retreated and the rhinoceros resumed its attack on the gate.

Butal and I retreated behind a crate, hoping to remain unnoticed. That was a forlorn hope. Behind me, I heard a familiar voice. I turned to see Amycus, Red, and Plump crouched behind us. Amycus was shouting and pointing at me, his face a mask of hatred.

Another spear glanced off the rhinoceros' head. It provided the incentive the creature needed. With a roar, it reared up and slammed into the gate again. The solid gate was not built to withstand such punishment and collapsed with a mighty crash. The massive creature did not hesitate when confronted with freedom. It thundered through the gap and disappeared outside.

For a moment, nobody moved, stunned into immobility. It was our chance. With Butal hot on my heels, we sped for the smashed gate. A few spears were thrown in our direction but passed harmlessly over our heads.

Outside, it was early evening. The only sign of the rhinoceros' passage was a cloud of kicked up sand. I could hear dim bellowing in the distance. Desperately, Butal and I ran as arrows rained down on us from above, the thuds and hisses entirely too familiar. I thought for a moment that we had escaped but then felt a stinging pain in my rear leg. I yelped and went down. Butal, just behind me, stopped immediately and nuzzled at my face, urging me to rise, his confusion and concern plain.

Rapid footsteps announced the arrival of Amycus and his cronies. Unbidden, Butal swiveled, facing the new threat. He growled viciously, a low ominous sound originating from the depths of his soul.

Desperate to stop his attack, I tried to change Butal's dark red
aura but could not concentrate due to the pain in my leg. Even if I had, I doubt whether I could've stopped him. Butal was a force of nature now.

I howled a warning but he paid me no heed. Here were the humans who had tormented him. Here were the humans who had injured his friend. All three were armed with spears but that meant nothing to Butal.

He hurled himself at Red first, a great leap that allowed him to tear the man's throat out with one ferocious bite. Before he could turn his attack on his next prey, Plump used the distraction to stab Butal with a spear. It was a vicious strike, biting deep. Butal yelped with pain and anger.

I managed to rise and hobbled into the fray, desperate to help before they killed him. Amycus' and Plump's attention was on Butal. I would kill Amycus before he even knew I was there.

Butal, blood pumping from his body, seemed to shrug off the mortal wound and with a last great effort, threw himself at Plump. Plump tried to bat him away with the haft of his spear but Butal, with more courage and sheer ferocity than I have ever witnessed, ignored the blows and found Plump's throat. With a terrible tearing sound and the snap of great jaws, Plump toppled to the ground, dead. Butal lay on top of him, silent and still.

I felt fury then, the likes of which I had never experienced. Butal had given his life for me. The only four-legged friend I had, had died for me. I would repay his courage in kind.

I was close to Amycus now. I planned to savage his leg, to snap and tear through his hamstrings. Then Amycus turned and leveling his spear, thrust downward with all his might. The blow,
by rights, should have skewered me. Instead, it glanced away at the last moment, merely tearing through the flesh just below my neck instead of plunging into my heart. Already unstable from the arrow wound, I staggered and fell.

Amycus reared above me, his spear raised high once again. There was madness in his eyes and his face. He looked more beast than human with his lips drawn up over his teeth and spittle on his chin. I tried to roll out of the way but knew I would be too late.

Before he could stab down however, an arrow suddenly sprouted from his waist, buried deep. He screamed and staggered backward, his eyes filled with fear and pain. I lurched to my feet, and turned to face this new threat. But it wasn't a threat. It was salvation.

Eumaeus, armored like no swineherd I had ever seen, came rushing toward me, more armed men at his back.

“Argos! We found you! Quick,” he gestured to two of his men who lifted me between them, “back to the ships.”

Arrows rained down as Eumaeus and his men swiftly retreated to the beach and the waiting ships, fending off the arrows with their heavy shields. They didn't waste time, casting off as soon as all the survivors from the attack were on board. Despite the urgency of their departure, I was placed gently on some sacking out of the way of the crew.

More arrows thudded into the deck and the hull and the men raised their shields to protect those at the oars. The order to raise sail was given and the ship leapt forwards into the waiting sea.

Eumaeus, finally able to take his eyes from the shore, knelt down next to me.

“Well, we've stirred up a hornet's nest there,” he said, grinning and patting my head gently. “But it was worth it. We got you back, Argos, old boy. Sorry it took so long.” I couldn't help notice that Eumaeus' face had a slight green tinge. His face was puffy too and shiny with sweat. He suddenly retched and when nothing came up, smiled weakly at me.

All this for me? Eumaeus was prone to seasickness and avoided the sea wherever possible. Not only that, but he was a swineherd (he would've argued that he was the Chief swineherd), not a warrior. That's why I was surprised to see him in armor. I felt unworthy of this great honor Eumaeus had done me.

There was so much I wanted to ask him, so much I wanted to say. Mostly I wanted to thank him.

Grateful as I was, grateful to be free of that island and that disgusting man, Amycus, a deep regret lay on my chest. They were like rocks in my heart. It was foolish to think, but in another time, in another world and possessing a different form, I would've insisted that the warriors take Butal's body with him. He had fallen bravely in battle and deserved a warrior's funeral. Even if I had been able to speak, Eumaeus would've considered it madness to retrieve the dead body of a dog he didn't know.

But Butal had sacrificed himself so that I would live. He was the only four-legged friend I have ever had.

All I could think of was his lifeless body lying on the beach, food for the crows. He deserved better. I hoped they would make an exception for him and let him into Hades. Of all dogs, he was the most worthy.

“T
ell me everything, Uncle,” said Telemachus. “Leave nothing out.”

We were in the Great Hall in Ithaca, seated on cushions around the fire. Technically, I wasn't sitting. I had my head in Telemachus' lap as he stroked my fur. Eumaeus sat on a cushion nearby while Penelope stood with her back toward us, staring moodily into the flames.

I was incredibly comfortable and feeling safer than I had for a long time. Even the dull throb of pain from my bandaged leg and neck could not diminish my contentment.

“Well,” said Eumaeus, blowing out his cheeks, “I hope you like exciting stories, young Telemachus, because this is a good one. One the poets may tell for years to come.”

“You are almost as prone to exaggeration as my husband,”
noted Penelope drily, without turning.

“Believe me, my queen, there will be no exaggeration here.”

“I meant no offense, Eumaeus,” she said, waving a hand to dismiss his protests, “merely that this was your first battle. All warriors exaggerate their first battle. I know Odysseus did. And probably still does.” Sadness colored her voice, fear for her husband evident. Athena had told her Odysseus still lived, but without the man himself to verify the fact, even his staunchest supporter was starting to doubt.

“So,” said Eumaeus, looking sharply at Penelope's back as if expecting another interruption. When none came, he continued, “When Argos disappeared, I suspected foul play but couldn't prove anything. I knew he wasn't on the island. We would've found him. Then I heard from one of our pig traders that Meges was putting on a special show. Everyone was talking about it. He was to pit some incredible beast against a couple of dogs. Not just any dogs. Some champion dog and—”

“Argos!” said Telemachus excitedly.

“Indeed,” agreed Eumaeus. He laughed. “We had a couple of days to prepare. I tried to get one of Odysseus' old captains to take command but he refused to risk men for the life of one dog. So I had to lead. Trust me, it wasn't something I had any great desire for, but I had no choice.”

“Argos would do the same for us,” said Telemachus, his face serious.

“I know he would,” said Eumaeus somberly. “Which is why we couldn't leave him to his fate. I also had to keep our mission secret in case Meges caught any scent of it. That is why I didn't tell you.”

“But you can trust me, Uncle,” protested Telemachus.

“Of course I can, boy, but I didn't trust the walls. Meges could have spies anywhere. He certainly knew how to find Argos and get him off the island undetected.” He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

“Then, we set sail. I don't mind telling you that the seas were the roughest I had ever seen—both there and back. I was sick most of the way and the armor chafed something terrible but we persevered. We landed on the beach at Doulikhion, near the arena. Fortunately for us, it was almost deserted. It seems that everyone was watching the show. I took twenty men and we charged up the beach only to encounter the strangest creature I had ever seen.”

“What was it, Uncle?” asked Telemachus, his eyes wide.

Eumaeus shook his head. “I don't know. Perhaps a creature from Hades. Whatever it was, it was built more strongly than the greatest horse and had a huge horn protruding from its head. But it had no interest in us. All it wanted to do was get away from the arena. As it passed I saw a battle before us.”

“A battle?” asked Telemachus.

“Well, only a little one,” confessed Eumaeus. “Three men attacking two dogs. And one of those dogs was you know who. Pure chance that we turned up just then. Or perhaps Athena was aiding us? It doesn't matter. Anyway, we charged up. Arrows were raining down. I saw one of the dogs—a big black fellow—attack and kill two of the attackers. And then he went down. One of my men put an arrow through the last man but he was dragged away by more of Meges' men who were pouring out of the gates by
then. This last man looked familiar but I didn't get a good look at him. We grabbed Argos and made a run for it.”

“And Argos will be all right?” asked Telemachus.

Eumaeus smiled at the boy. “You know he will. You saw the injuries yourself. The arrow went straight through his leg and will heal nicely. The other injury to his chest was deep but has been sewn up and looks to be healing cleanly.”

“Is King Meges such an evil man that he would do this just because he lost a bet?” asked Telemachus.

“I wouldn't have thought so. This sort of pettiness is beneath him,” said Eumaeus thoughtfully.