The World's Desire

  VII

  THE LAST FIGHT OF ODYSSEUS, LAERTES' SON

  Now the host of Pharaoh marched forth from On, to do battle with theNine-bow barbarians. And before the host marched, the Captains came tothe Wanderer, according to the command of Pharaoh, and placing theirhands in his, swore to do his bidding on the march and in the battle.They brought him the great black bow of Eurytus, and his keen swordof bronze, Euryalus' gift, and many a sheaf of arrows, and his heartrejoiced when he saw the goodly weapon. He took the bow and tried it,and as he drew the string, once again and for the last time it sangshrilly of death to be. The Captains heard the Song of the Bow, thoughwhat it said the Wanderer knew alone, for to their ears it came but asa faint, keen cry, like the cry of one who drowns in the water far fromthe kindly earth. But they marvelled much at the wonder, and said oneto another that this man was no mortal, but a God come from theUnder-world.

  Then the Wanderer mounted the chariot of bronze that had been made readyfor him, and gave the word to march.

  All night the host marched swiftly, and at day-break they camped beneaththe shelter of a long, low hill. But at the sunrise the Wanderer leftthe host, climbed the hill with certain of the Captains, and lookedforth. Before him was a great pass in the mountains, ten furlongs ormore in length, and through it ran the road. The sides of the mountainsloped down to the road, and were strewn with rocks split by the sun,polished by the sand, and covered over with bush that grew sparsely,like the hair on the limbs of a man. To the left of the mountains laythe river Sihor, but none might pass between the mountain and the river.The Wanderer descended from the hill, and while the soldiers ate, droveswiftly in his chariot to the further end of the pass and looked forthagain. Here the river curved to the left, leaving a wide plain, and onthe plain he saw the host of the Nine-bow barbarians, the mightiest hostthat ever his eyes had looked upon. They were encamped by nations, andof each nation there was twenty thousand men, and beyond the glitteringcamp of the barbarians he saw the curved ships of the Achaeans. They weredrawn up on the beach of the great river, as many a year ago he had seenthem drawn up on the shore that is by Ilios. He looked upon plain andpass, on mountain and river, and measured the number of the foe. Thenhis heart was filled with the lust of battle, and his warlike cunningawoke. For of all leaders he was the most skilled in the craft ofbattle, and he desired that this, his last war, should be the greatestwar of all.

  Turning his horses' heads, he galloped back to the host of Pharaoh andmustered them in battle array. It was but a little number as againstthe number of the barbarians--twelve thousand spearmen, nine thousandarchers, two thousand horsemen, and three hundred chariots. The Wandererpassed up and down their ranks, bidding them be of good courage, forthis day they should sweep the barbarians from the land.

  As he spoke a hawk flew down from the right, and fell on a heron, andslew it in mid-air. The host shouted, for the hawk is the Holy Bird ofRa, and the Wanderer, too, rejoiced in the omen. "Look, men," he cried;"the Bird of Ra has slain the wandering thief from the waters. And soshall ye smite the spoilers from the sea."

  Then he held counsel with Captains, and certain trusty men were sentout to the camp of the barbarians. And they were charged to give an illreport of the host of Pharaoh, and to say that such of it as remainedawaited the barbarian onset behind the shelter of the hill on thefurther side of the pass.

  Then the Wanderer summoned the Captains of the archers, and bade themhide all their force among the rocks and thorns on either side of themountain pass, and there to wait till he drew the hosts of the foe intothe pass. And with the archers he sent a part of the spearmen, but thechariots he hid beneath the shelter of the hill on the hither side ofthe pass.

  Now, when the ambush was set, and all were gone save the horsemen only,his spies came in and told him that the host of the barbarians marchedfrom their camp, but that the Achaeans marched not, but stopped by theriver to guard the camp and ships. Then the Wanderer bade the horsemenride through the pass and stand in the plain beyond, and there await thefoe. But when the hosts of the barbarians charged them, they must reelbefore the charge, and at length fly headlong down the pass as though infear. And he himself would lead the flight in his chariot, and where heled there they should follow.

  So the horsemen rode through the pass and formed their squadrons on theplain beyond. Now the foe drew nigh, and a glorious sight it was to seethe midday sun sparkling on their countless spears. Of horsemen theyhad no great number, but there were many chariots and swordsmen, andspearmen, and slingers beyond count. They came on by nations, and inthe centre of the host of each nation sat the king of the nation in aglorious chariot, with girls and eunuchs, holding fans to fan him withand awnings of silk to hide him from the sun.

  Now the Wanderer hung back behind the squadrons of horsemen as thoughin fear. But presently he sent messengers bidding the Captains of thesquadrons to charge the first nation, and fight for a while but feebly,and then when they saw him turn his horses and gallop through the pass,to follow after him as though in doubt, but in such fashion as to drawthe foe upon their heels.

  This the Captains of the mercenaries did. Once they charged and werebeaten back, then they charged again, but the men made as though theyfeared the onset. Now the foe came hard after them, and the Wandererturned his chariot and fled through the pass, followed slowly by thehorsemen. And when the hosts of the barbarians saw them turn, they setup a mighty shout of laughter that rent the skies, and charged afterthem.

  But the Wanderer looked back and laughed also. Now he was through thepass followed by the horsemen, and after them swept the hosts of thebarbarians, like a river that has burst its banks. Still the Wandererheld his hand till the whole pass was choked with the thousands of thefoe, ay, until the half of the first of the nations had passed into thenarrow plain that lay between the hill and the mouth of the pass. Then,driving apace up the hill, he stood in his chariot and gave the signal.Lifting his golden shield on high he flashed it thrice, and all thehorsemen shouted aloud. At the first flash, behold, from behind everyrock and bush of the mountain sides arose the helms of armed men. At thesecond flash there came a rattling sound of shaken quivers, and at thethird flash of the golden shield, the air was darkened with the flightof arrows. As the sea-birds on a lonely isle awake at the cry of thesailor, and wheel by thousands from their lofty cliffs, so at the thirdflash of the Wanderer's shield the arrows of his hidden host rusheddownward on the foe, rattling like hail upon the harness. For awhilethey kept their ranks, and pressed on over the bodies of those thatfell. But soon the horses in the chariots, maddened with wounds, plungedthis way and that, breaking their companies and trampling the soldiersdown. Now some strove to fly forward, and some were fain to fly back,and many an empty chariot was dragged this way and that, but ever thepitiless rain of shafts poured down, and men fell by thousands beneaththe gale of death. Now the mighty host of the Nine-bows rolled back,thinned and shattered, towards the plain, and now the Wanderer cried theword of onset to the horsemen and to the chariots that drew from behindthe shelter of the hill, and following after him they charged down uponthose barbarians who had passed the ambush, singing the song of Pentauras they charged. Among those nigh the mouth of the pass was the kingof the nation of the Libu, a great man, black and terrible to see. TheWanderer drew his bow, the arrow rushed forth and pierced the king,and he fell dead in his chariot. Then those of his host who passed theambush turned to fly, but the chariot of the Wanderer dashed into them,and after the chariot came the horsemen, and after the horsemen thechariots of Pharaoh.

  Now all who were left of the broken host rolled back, mad with fear,while the spearmen of Pharaoh galled them as hunters gall a flyingbull, and the horsemen of Pharaoh trampled them beneath their feet. Redslaughter raged all down the pass, helms, banners, arrow-points shoneand fell in the stream of the tide of war, but at length the stony waywas clear save for the dead alone. Beyond the pass the plain was blackwith flying men, and the fragments of the broken nations were mixedtogether as
clay and sand are mixed of the potter. Where now were thehosts of the Nine-bow barbarians? Where now were their glory and theirpride?

  The Wanderer gathered his footmen and his chariots and set them in arrayagain but the horsemen he sent out to smite the flying nations and waithis coming by the camp; for there were mustering those who were left ofthe nations, perchance twenty thousand men, and before their ships wereranged the dense ranks of the Achaeans, shield to shield, every man inhis place.

  The Wanderer led his host slowly across the sandy plain, till at lengthhe halted it two bow-shots from the camp of the barbarians. The camp wasshaped like a bow, and the river Sihor formed its string, and round itwas a deep ditch and beyond the ditch a wall of clay. Moreover, withinthe camp and nearer to the shore there was a second ditch and wall, andbehind it were the beaks of the ships and the host of Aquaiusha, evenof his own dear people the Achaeans. There were the old blazons, andthe spears that had fought below Troy town. There were the two lions ofMycenae, the Centaur of the son of Polypaetas, son of Pirithous; therewere the Swan of Lacedaemon, and the Bull of the Kings of Crete, the Roseof Rhodes, the Serpent of Athens, and many another knightly bearing ofold friends and kindred dear. And now they were the blazons of foemen,and the Wanderer warred for a strange king, and for his own hand,beneath the wings of the Hawk of the Legion of Ra.

  The Wanderer sent heralds forward, calling to those barbarians whoswarmed behind the wall to surrender to the host of Pharaoh, but this,being entrenched by the river Sihor, they would in nowise do. For theywere mad because of their slaughtered thousands, and moreover they knewthat it is better to die than to live as slaves. This they saw also,that their host was still as strong as the host of Pharaoh, which waswithout the wall, and weary with the heat and stress of battle and thetoil of marching through the desert sands. Now the Captains of the hostof Pharaoh came to the Wanderer, praying him that he would do no morebattle on that day, because the men were weary, and the horses neighedfor food and water.

  But he answered them: "I swore to Pharaoh that I would utterly smite thepeople of the Nine-bows and drive them down to death, so that the coastsof Khem may be free of them. Here I may not camp the host, without foodor pasture for the horses, and if I go back, the foe will gather heartand come on, and with them the fleet of the Achaeans, and no more shallwe lure them into ambush, for therein they have learned a lesson. Nay,get you to your companies. I will go up against the camp."

  Then they bowed and went, for having seen his deeds and his skill andcraft in war, they held him the first of Captains, and dared not say himnay.

  So the Wanderer divided his host into three parts, set it in order ofbattle, and moved up against the camp. But he himself went with thecentre part against the gate of the camp, for here there was an earthenway for chariots, if but the great gates might be passed. And at a wordthe threefold host rushed on to the charge. But those within the wallsshot them with spears and arrows, so that many were slain, and they wererolled back from the wall as a wave is rolled from the cliff. Again theWanderer bade them charge on the right and left, bearing the dead beforethem as shields, and hurling corpses into the ditch to fill it. But hehimself hung back awhile with the middle army, watching how the battlewent, and waiting till the foe at the gate should be drawn away.

  Now the mercenaries of Pharaoh forced a passage on the right and thitherwent many of the barbarians who watched the gate, that they might drivethem back.

  Then the Wanderer bade men take out the poles of chariots and followhim and beat down the gates with the poles. This with much toil and lossthey did, for the archers poured their arrows on the assailants of thegate. Now at length the gates were down, and the Wanderer rushed throughthem with his chariot. But even as he passed the mercenaries of Pharaohwere driven out from the camp on the right, and those who led the leftattack fled also. The soldiers who should have followed the Wanderer sawand wavered a little moment, and while they wavered the companies of thebarbarians poured into the gateway and held it so that none might pass.Now the Wanderer was left alone within the camp, and back he might notgo. But fear came not nigh him, nay, the joy of battle filled his mightyheart. He cast his shield upon the brazen floor of the chariot, andcried aloud to the charioteer, as he loosened the long grey shafts inhis quiver.

  "Drive on, thou charioteer! Drive on! The jackals leave the lion in thetoils. Drive on! Drive on! and win a glorious death, for thus shouldOdysseus die."

  So the charioteer, praying to his Gods, lashed the horses with hisscourge, and they sprang forward madly among the foe. And as theyrushed, the great bow rang and sang the swallow string--rung the bow andsung the string, and the lean shaft drank the blood of a leader of men.Again the string sang, again the shaft sped forth, and a barbarian kingfell from his chariot as a diver plunges into the sea, and his teeth bitthe sand.

  "Dive deep, thou sea-thief!" cried the Wanderer, "thou mayest findtreasures there! Drive on, thou charioteer, so should lions die whilejackals watch."

  Now the barbarians looked on the Wanderer and were amazed. For ever hischariot rushed to and fro, across the mustering ground of the camp, andever his grey shafts carried death before them, and ever the foemen'sarrows fell blunted from his golden harness. They looked on him amazed,they cried aloud that this was the God of War come down to do battle forKhem, that it was Sutek the Splendid, that it was Baal in his strength;they fled amain before his glory and his might. For the Wanderer ragedamong them like great Rameses Miamun among the tribes of the Khita; likeMonthu, the Lord of Battles, and lo! they fled before him, their kneesgave way, their hearts were turned to water, he drove them as a herdsmandrives the yearling calves.

  But now at length a stone from a sling smote the charioteer who directedthe chariot, and sunk in between his eyes, so that he fell down deadfrom the chariot. Then the reins flew wide, and the horses rushed thisway and that, having no master. And now a spear pierced the heart of thehorse on the right, so that he fell, and the pole of the chariot snappedin two. Then the barbarians took heart and turned, and some of themset on to seize the body of the charioteer, and spoil his arms. But theWanderer leaped down and bestrode the corpse with shield up and spearaloft.

  Now among the press of the barbarians there was a stir, as of onethrusting his way through them to the front. And above the plumes oftheir helmets and the tossing of their shields the Wanderer saw thegolden head, unhelmeted, of a man, taller than the tallest there fromthe shoulders upwards. Unhelmeted he came and unshielded, with nobody armour. His flesh was very fair and white, and on it were figurespricked in blue, figures of men and horses, snakes and sea-beasts. Theskin of a white bear was buckled above his shoulder with a golden clasp,fashioned in the semblance of a boar. His eyes were blue, fierce andshining, and in his hand he held for a weapon the trunk of a youngpine-tree, in which was hafted a weighty axe-head of rough unpolishedstone.

  "Give way!" he cried. "Give place, ye dusky dwarfs, and let a man seethis champion!"

  So the barbarians made a circle about the Wanderer and the giant, andstood silently to watch a great fight.

  "Who art thou?" said the mighty man disdainfully, "and whence? Where isthy city, and thy parents who begat thee?"

  "Now I will avow that men call me Odysseus, Sacker of Cities, Laertes'son, a Prince of the Achaeans," said the Wanderer. "And who art thou,I pray thee, and where is thy native place, for city, I wot, thou hastnone?"

  Then the mighty man, swinging his great stone axe in a rhythmic motion,began to chant a rude lay, and this was the manner of the singing--

  "Laestrygons men And Cimmerians call us Born of the land Of the sunless winter, Born of the land Of the nightless summer: Cityless, we, Beneath dark pine boughs, By the sea abiding Sail o'er the swan's bath. _Wolf_ am I hight, The son of Signy, Son of the were-wolf. Southwards I sailed, Sailed with the amber, Sailed with the foam-wealth. Among strange peoples, Winning me wave-flame,[*] Winning me war-fame, Winning me women.
Soon shall I slay thee, Sacker of Cities!"

  [*] Gold.

  With that, and with a cry, he rushed on the Wanderer, his great axeswung aloft, to fell him at a blow.

  But while the giant had been singing, the Wanderer had shifted his placea little, so that the red blaze of the setting sun was in his face. Andas the mighty man came on, the Wanderer lifted up his golden shield andcaught the sunlight on it, and flashed it full in the giant's eyes,so that he was dazzled, and could not see to strike. Then the Wanderersmote at his naked right arm, and struck it on the joint of the elbow;with all his force he smote, and the short sword of Euryalus bit deep,and the arm fell, with the axe in the hand-grip. But so terrible was thestroke that bronze might not abide it, and the blade was shattered fromthe ivory handle.

  "Didst thou feel aught, thou Man-eater?" cried Odysseus, jeering, for heknew from the song of the giant that he was face to face with a wandererfrom an evil race, that of old had smitten his ships and devoured hismen--the Laestrygons of the land of the Midnight Sun, the Man-eaters.

  But the giant caught up his club of pine-tree in his left hand, thesevered right arm still clinging to it. And he gnawed on the handleof the stone axe with his teeth, and bit the very stone, and his lipsfoamed, for a fury came upon him. Roaring aloud, suddenly he smote atthe Wanderer's head, and beat down his shield, and crushed his goldenhelm so that he fell on one knee, and all was darkness around him. Buthis hands lit on a great stone, for the place where they fought was theholy place of an ancient temple, old and ruined before King Mena's day.He grasped the stone with both hands; it was the basalt head of a fallenstatue of a God or a man, of a king long nameless, or of a forgottenGod. With a mighty strain the Wanderer lifted it as he rose, it was aweight of a chariot's burden, and poising it, he hurled it straightat the breast of the Laestrygon, who had drawn back, whirling his axe,before he smote another blow. But ere ever the stroke fell, the hugestone struck him full and broke in his breast bone, and he staggeredlong, and fell like a tree, and the black blood came up through hisbearded lips, and his life left him.

  Then the multitude of the barbarians that stood gazing at the fray drewyet further back in fear, and the Wanderer laughed like a God atthat old score paid, and at the last great stroke of the hands of theCity-sacker, Odysseus.