“Then your word must carry some weight with the farmers and workers.”
“Go on.”
“The farms are in a state of disrepair,” Amphinomus stated. “They are producing yes, but they could do more. They should be flourishing, but they are not.”
“Why should men work their balls off to supply…”
He trailed off so Amphinomus finished for him. “The likes of us at the great house. Yes. There’s not a lot of incentive. But look, this farce at the great hall won’t last forever,” Amphinomus continued. “In the meantime, I can provide some leadership—we princes are trained for all that,” he added with a grin. And this time he poured the wine. “But I can’t lead without willing hands.”
“I said you’re not hated. But then again, some around these parts would rather stick a knife in your back while you lead from the front,” Eumaeus observed.
And that, Amphinomus thought, was as true of his fellow suitors as it was of the Ithacans themselves. But if he was going to make a name for himself with the queen, it was worth the risk.
Amphinomus employed a steady, measured approach. Eumaeus took him from farm to farm, small-holding to small-holding where he spoke to the men as he had spoken to the swine-herder.
Their responses were surly, rude but, in the main, they saw the practicality in his words. And, Amphinomus fancied, they rather enjoyed that he—a prince—stripped down with them and lifted the fence posts, wielded the blacksmith’s hammer, got himself wet with the fishermen and (if he was honest, the worst part) worked on the vineyards. For such a staple drink, wine was hard work to produce.
No one tried to kill him—he suspected largely down to the secret counsel of Eumaeus and not because of a sudden rush of goodwill. The damage done by the suitors—and indeed himself—would take time to undo. For all that, he fancied that he saw grudging respect in the eyes of some of these scarred old warriors who had turned in their spears for ploughs and fishing nets. And he was aware enough of his own youth to know respect from an older man was something that young men always craved.
Amphinomus also took it upon himself to organize the cleaning of the great hall. To his dismay, facing a phalanx of comely and clearly available female workers was more intimidating than dealing with the workmen on the island proper. These were no shrinking virgins—all of them knew that if a prince’s seed took in her belly or a prince took her to heart—she’d be made for life and would have scrubbed her last pot and swept her last floor.
His eyes swept over them. “Where’s Melantho?” he asked of the one he knew had attached herself to Eurymachus. He guessed her to be the leader of this little band much as Eurymachus considered himself the leader of the suitors.
“As if you need to ask,” an older woman said with a chuckle.
“What’s your name?”
“Eurycleia. I am the longest serving woman in these halls.”
“She’ll tell you that Odysseus suckled at her tit,” a younger woman, dark, slim and beautiful, snorted. She reminded Amphinomus of the queen—a younger version, perhaps, but still not as fine as Penelope.
“He did suckle at my tit, Danae!” Eurycleia snapped at her. “Him and his son too!”
“We know, you keep telling us...” The young woman turned to him appraisingly. “I am Penelope’s handmaiden,” she said by way of introduction. “I shall report to her this most interesting assembly of women that Amphinomus the Hard-worker has called.”
Amphinomus winced on the inside. He had wanted to impress the queen with his leadership on the island, not with rule over a bunch of cleaning women. To make matters worse, he quickly lost control of the situation: all the women started talking at once. Amphinomus could feel himself getting smaller and smaller in the room. Something had to be done. The queen was watching him through the eyes of her handmaiden.
“Women!” he bawled, his voice bouncing around the walls of the room. To his surprise, they stilled. “That’s right,” he said, sounding in his own ears more relieved than commanding. Soldiers he told himself. Think of them as soldiers. “Now listen. I’m well aware that I’ve been a part of the problem. But as of today, I—with your help—am going to become part of the solution.”
“Solution to what, Young Prince,” Eurycleia asked—not bothering to hide the hint of mockery in her voice.
“This place,” he gestured to encompass the great hall, his eyes flicking to the doe-eyed handmaiden that so resembled his love. “It’s a mess. And yes, before anyone sees fit to bring it up—I know I helped cause it. But no-one has taken a firm hand here—”
Danae put a hand on her hip and Amphinomus gulped. Did she think he was insulting her Lady?
“The queen has been too busy managing the weaving trade that has kept Ithaca from economic ruin,” Danae pointed out in a cool tone. “She has no time to bother herself with these kinds of concerns. And her son refuses to see the need to display leadership in these domestic matters.”
“But I see it,” Amphinomus said. “And I want this place cleaned. Floor to rafters. You,” he rounded on Eurycleia, “will oversee it. I don’t care how you distribute the work, I care only that it’s done.”
“We have other duties, Prince,” the old woman stuck her chin out, a veritable shield-wall of obstinacy. Of course. Odysseus had suckled at her tit.
“I’m sure you do,” he conceded. “Bring the younger ones in, then. Your daughters. Get them to work. Because this is still Penelope’s place, Eurycleia. Would you have your beautiful queen sit on a filthy dais? Rule over a dirty hall? That does Odysseus a disservice.”
That arrow hit its mark. Eurycleia nodded and began barking orders at her women whilst Amphinomus let out a breath he did not know he’d been holding.
Danae looked him up and down, giving him a sultry close-lipped smile. “Well, I’ll have an interesting report for the queen this day,” she said.
Amphinomus watched her glide out of the room, oddly hopeful for the first time in a long time.
At the end of each day, he returned to the revels in the great hall—tired but satisfied, willing now to simply watch—detached—as the swaggering and laughter went on around him. And, as it always did, turn into bouts of shoving, wrestling and the inevitable one or two that threw up all over the place before stumbling off to their abodes.