Dawn broke and spread across the sky
lighting the mountains beyond the foothills.
The three travelers awoke together
and sat up around the cold ashes
that last night had kept them warm.
Odysseus had produced fire,
but from where his son could not tell.
Telemachus imagined that Prometheus himself
might have provided that initial spark
out of nowhere.
Prometheus was a rebel titan,
much like Sisyphus who was rumored
to be his own father's real father.
Telemachus knew that rumor was false,
like so many stories that were made up out of spite,
at least he hoped it was false,
and had beaten many a rival as proof of something
that could never be breached with his father.
A secret that could never be mentioned
but colored everything that happened.
It was an old taint for Sisyphus was a great and clever thief.
Where else could the cunning have come from?
Telemachus was the first to speak,
"Father, what shall we do for something to eat?
Which direction should we look for it?
Should we not seek out horses
to take us more quickly on our journey?
We should not tarry in this woeful land!"
Odysseus looked at his son.
Suddenly he remembered . . .
the Hundred-handed Ones!
"Oh, what fate has befallen us?
This land directly across the strait
has always been a no-mans-land
poisoned and polluted by those ancient foes.
And now we have been thrown onto those shores
by a cruel fate that begins our journey
in a peril of losing our lives."
The poet looked at father and son
vacant eyes glimmered in the rising sun
then he spoke to them softly saying.
"The seaman who throws the landsman into the wine dark seas
sometimes finds himself thrown into dangerous lands."
Odysseus wheeled on the poet
and took him by the cloak,
"I have promised not to dispose of you again
as you seem to have many lives
and like a god rise from the sea
after having apparently been drowned.
But, I will not take insolence from one who
feeds upon other men's ears.
I am one who has proved himself be deed
not only by my words. For words are empty
without the support of deeds.
All the poets know me and how I have mastered
the subtly of words as well as heroic works.
This journey is not for the man of words alone.
I have become the singer of my own glories
because where I have gone no witnesses could follow.
And if I survive this new journey
I will relate my own version of the story.
So I have not need of you, scop.
You are likely to die of the rigors of this journey soon,
so there is not need for Me to get rid of you.
Many of my companions have died of foolishness before
and they could at least see their hands in front of their faces
even through they were blind to the meanings of things."
The poet laughed.
Odysseus grew more angry and then suddenly released the poet.
"Son, I had forgotten about
the Hundred-handed Ones.
I had been away too long.
I directed the boat straight across
the strait to avoid the wiles of Poseidon
only to fall into, perhaps, greater peril.
Has anyone sighted any of those ancient murderers
since my journey to Troy began?"
Telemachus replied,
"No father, they have evidently withdrawn deep into the mountains."
Odysseus sat upon the ground and closed his eyes.
Telemachus sat facing him touching his knee.
And the Poet began to chant a poem soft an low
almost indistinguishable from the wind in the trees.
"As I plunged into the sea, parting the waters,
I had a vision of Uranus rising
up from the dark ground of Gaia.
He arose unfolding the sky out of the earth.
At that moment the two fourfolds broke apart.
Earth became dense and dark
and the sky took all the light as its own.
Uranus was the male and Gaia was the female.
At that point the sunny side of the hill
could be distinguished from the shadowy side.
A primordial mound inhabited by a single bird called Atun.
But as soon as separation occurred, union began again.
The separation only occurred so return could follow.
But the union of Heaven and Earth was imperfect
and from that imperfection issued
the Cyclopses and the Hundred-handed Ones.
They were the first creation
after the arising of Uranus from Gaia.
Gaia and Uranus before their separation
could not be distinguished from utter chaos.
Chaos lay upon the face of the abyss, Tartarus,
and everything was covered by the great darkness of night.
That disorder was spun by separation and return
into the imperfect arisings that proceeded the Titans.
The Titans who followed had balance and near perfection
which only the older gods approached.
But before the cathonic Titans came misshapen ones
who make men fearful due to their ancient origin and mighty powers.
Uranus imprisoned them in Tartarus
and Kronos released them briefly
but then immediately imprisoned them again
in fear of their awesome powers.
It was not until Zeus sought to win the heavens
that they were finally released for good.
The Cyclopses build the great walls and parapets around Olympus.
They gave Hades the invisible helmet,
gave Poseidon his trident, and Zeus his thunder bolt.
The Hundred-handed ones took the Titans to the Western Isles
and acted as their prison guards after the Titomachia.
Thus the Cyclopses gave the Olympians the means of victory
while the Hundred-handed ones received the defeated.
And some of the children of the Cyclopses
spread out across the wilds of the earth
as did the children of the Hundred-handed ones.
Odysseus had met one of those children of the Cyclopses
on his first journey and now is fated to meet the children
of the Hundred-handed ones at the beginning of this journey.
The Cyclopses you have visited O glorious Odysseus.
And now you have fallen in to the hands of their brothers.
These misshapen brothers of the Cyclopses are not so primitive,
but do not think because of that they are not equally cruel.
They live in cities deep in these mountains and other inaccessible places
which would put the pride of Scheria to shame.
They have no need of men as they are a prior creation
that in pride do not recognize any later creation.
It is their neglect and indifference that kills men
not their savagery or barbarian customs.
But like their brothers they transgress
and do not recognize the laws of the gods
which make the way of the traveler safe."
Odysseus stirred from his concentration
he ceased listening to the wind in the trees
and its mysterious song of the absolute past.
He opened his eyes to look at the concerned gaze of his son.
"I have remembered the sacrifices to Apollo
and how each year the secret offering comes to Delos
from the Hyperboreans who live far to the north.
I believe we would trace our way back following
the road of those returning from giving their gifts to Apollo
seeking its source beyond the Scythians realm.
There we are sure to find ones
who will not recognize that oar.
I hate to say this to you, son,
but the route lies over these mountains
and to go around would add many months to our journey.
We must trust ourselves to our fate
and push straight through toward the interior.
"But Father have you gone mad?
No one can come near the Hundred-handed Ones and live.
they wrench their living from the earth
and are heedless of the needs of men.
We will surely die if we press forward
through the forbidden pass."
"Son, sometimes daring masters all forbidding circumstances.
Think of the glory of our return.
Think of how our names will live on in song
if we are clever enough and brave enough
to pass through the land of the Hundred-handed Ones and live.
And if we do not survive we will know
that we risked all for honor and glory
without holding back anything.
We will have died a hero's death
and will be able to boast to the other shades of Hades
that we, together, tempted fate with a strong boast
and action that was brave and fierce.
Besides at the very least we will be rid of this pesky poet
for whom such a journey will be much too rough."
"But father remember what Achilles said to you --
that he would rather be a slave alive than a king in the underworld.
Is it not better to take a less risky route and live to finish the journey?"
Odysseus thought about what his son had said.
Then he responded, thus,
"Son, there are times when one must follow one's curiosity
even though it many lead to losses
that would otherwise not be incurred.
It is our cunning that allows us to continue on.
Curiosity can pay large dividends when it reveals
significant aspects of the world hither to unheard of.
For to not take risks is itself the most risky path.
What one does not see coming takes you completely by surprise,
finds you utterly unprepared.
In this case we know the Hundred-handed Ones are dangerous.
But we do not know what lies on the route that avoids them
and it causes us to waste precious time.
And what we might discover about the Hundred-handed Ones
could outweigh the danger they represent.
Their land is close to ours, and if they have indeed gone away
that would open up the interior to us for trading.
Our people have more to gain from our exploration
of this near country seeking to reveal its secrets.
We take a big chance and we can but hope
at least one of the gods are with us
as we face primeval danger in this forbidding land."
Odysseus stood and picked up his oar.
Without a word he struck off toward the interior
and his son followed despite his forebodings.
The poet smiled and went after their footsteps.
He was unseemly in his sure footedness
for one with an aimless gaze.
Telemachus offered him a hand
when the way became rough,
but Odysseus acted as if neither of them existed
and pushed on ahead up from the foothills
toward the towering mountains
that hung ominously over the horizon.
He was searching for the way
toward the forbidden pass,
walking straight into danger without flinching
as a hero must always do
especially when accompanied by his son.
Soon they stumbled across a road.
The road wen up into a deep valley.
They followed it and the going was much easier.
There was no one on the road
and they walked without food and water all day
slowly getting higher and higher.
Suddenly going round a bend in the road
they encountered a stranger, evidently a merchant.
The stranger was coming down from the pass
with many donkeys laden with supplies.
Both the merchant and the party with Odysseus stopped
when the caravan suddenly appeared before them.
"Peace, stranger," said Odysseus.
"Peace, by the gods what brings you on this lonely road
pressing forward toward your doom."
"We are suppliants returning from the giving of offerings at Delos
and we lost our way. We are returning to our homes in the interior.
Why do you say we are pressing on toward our doom?"
"Everyone knows that this is the land
of the children of the Hundred-handed Ones
and that only the foolish travel this road."
"Then what are you doing on this road?"
"I am a merchant and this is the safest way
through the mountains.
All the brigands are too afraid to travel this road
so it is safe for the likes of me."
"But if merchants are safe
then surely suppliants returning from Delos
are safe here too."
"Perhaps, but why press your luck.
Why not return the way you came?"
"We were captured by pirates as we crossed
from Delos to the mainland.
They pushed our blind friend here overboard
in the straits off this shore.
We jumped off after him
with only an oar to save us from the sea.
The crew laughed at us as we swam for shore.
Now I know why."
"It was a foul deed they did to you
for it is better to drown
than reach this shore."
"Since we are suppliants to Apollo
and have not had water or food
since we dove into the sea to save
this blind one, could you spare
some of your provisions for us?"
"Certainly, you might as well have a last meal
and good drink before you meet your fated end."
The merchant stopped and tied his donkeys to a tree
and then began rummaging around for some provisions
in a heavily laden saddle bag.
Finally, he came down the road toward them.
Odysseus laid down the oar
so as not to worry him unduly.
The merchant handed each of them some food and drink.
They all sat down at the side of the road
and ate together including the merchant himself.
The blind poet began at once and ate greedily.
"Our friend here is not used to hardship.
He is a poet rather than a man of action.
Where are you bound with your goods?
How do you manage to pass where no one else dares to travel?"
"I am coming from Dandona on my way to Argos."
"Is it far to Dandona?"
"Across the mountains and through the forbidden pass."
"How do you make it through the pass?"
"I just walk on through, I had no trouble at all."
"Then what is there for us to fear?"
"I do not know. One time I got it into my head to try the pass.
I have used it many times with no trouble at all.
As far as I can tell the Hundred-handed ones no longer
prowl this territory and so the fears of the people
that leaves this land desolate are completely unfounded."
Odysseus smiled and then began to laugh
as he ate heartily at this good news.
Telemachus was happy to hear the news
but not sure whether to believe it.
the poet finished his portion before anyone else
and began chanting again.
The merchant looked at him in wonder transfixed.
"Has anyone thought about why?
Why the Cyclopses and the Hundred-handed Ones
were the first imperfect creation?
We tell these stories over and over
but few stop to consider their meanings."
The merchant broke in disrupting the chant,
"We have no time for such thoughts
we have to carry our goods from place to place
in order to eke out a meager living.
All I care is that they do not disturb my passage.
Their creation was too long ago
to bother thinking about today.
What has the beginning of the world unfolding out of chaos
have to do without lives today?"
The poet sneered at the merchant,
composed himself and began again.
"The eye and the many hands.
Unity and diversity.
This is what the world is composed of at its core.
Myriads of drones and workers busying themselves
around a single queen. Like the five brothers with a single wife.
One currency passes through many hands.
And we see on it the eye of wisdom.
One captain guides many who row the ship.
One king leads many brave warriors off to foreign wars.
The one is defective without the many.
The many is defective in turn without the one.
Together they are a whole creation
while alone they are misshapen and unbalanced.
Now the Cyclopses live across the seas
and the Hundred-handed Ones live here.
They are both asocial though they live in scattered groups.
But once they were together, perfect
in spite of their separate imperfections.
Later creations where whole and social,
balanced and perfect. Twelve Titans and twelve Olympians.
The main difference between these being the tie
either to heaven or earth."
The merchant looked at Odysseus,
"This is no ordinary poet. Where did you pick him up?"
Odysseus was quick to respond,
"We met him on the ship back from Delos.
We became enamored by his enchanting songs
and became his fast friends."
"By the way," the merchant said,
"Why are you still carrying that oar?"
Again Odysseus quickly said,
"For protection -- that is all we have
since jumping overboard to save the poet."
"How did the sacrifices at Delos go this year?
Aren't you returning home a little late?"
Odysseus leapt to his feet as he answered,
"We stayed on after our party had left
to make special sacrifices to Apollo.
We had many men not return from the Trojan war
and we hoped that perhaps extra sacrifices
would settle once and for all if they were ever coming home.
We all heard that Odysseus finally returned
after we had given up on our men
so that renewed our hope.
We then became friends with this poet
hoping he would be inspired to tell us
of fateful return of our own men.
This poet is however completely useless because
though his stories are wondrous
he seems to have no news in him for our people.
After hours of playback of all the songs he knows
we have not heard one word the fates of our comrades.
We will give him to you if you part with
a few more provisions for us.
I am sure he has many stories left in him
probably many you have never heard."
Suddenly the donkeys became restless.
The merchant leapt up to calm them.
He came back shortly with a small bag of provisions
for each of the travelers.
"I do not deal in slaves.
They are nothing but trouble.
But since you are suppliants I will offer you a good will gift.
I must take my leave of you in order to get off this mountain
as soon as I can because my animals sense danger here.
Even though I have never met the Hundred-handed Ones
that does not mean they do not exist
and I would just as soon not press my luck."
The merchant got his caravan moving again
and soon disappeared down the mountain.
Odysseus picked up the oar and motioned to Telemachus
to pick up the bags of their provisions.
They started walking again
with the poet straggling behind.
It would be dark soon
and they needed to find a place to rest.
Shortly before twilight
they happened on an overhang
that offered some protection from the wind.
The poet sat while Telemachus built a fire
with a coal saved from last nights fire.
Odysseus scouted up ahead
and sometime after dark returned to say
the road looked clear around the next few bends.
Copyright 1996 Kent Palmer. All Rights Reserved. Not to be Distributed.
Not to be stored in any electronc form nor published in hard copy without the Authors permission in writing.
Permission is granted to individuals to temporarily store and make one copy for personal study.
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