Argos (3 page)

I didn't know it at the time but this man was god-like Odysseus, son of Laertes, favorite of the Goddess Athena, and great-godson of the God Hermes.

“It is, my lord. Born a week ago. Same day as your son, Telemachus,” said the thin, spindly face to my left—all sharp angles and lines. “It's a good sign, my lord Odysseus.” I recognized the smell of this man straight away. The kennels were full of his rank scent, and not one I savored. It was the first time I had seen or heard him. I later learnt that this was Amycus, the Master of the Hounds and the Kennels.

“And what of you, Eumaeus?” asked Odysseus, addressing the large bear-like man to my right.

Eumaeus stroked his thick black beard thoughtfully. “As you know, my lord, I am not much given to putting fanciful names
on coincidences, but only a fool would ignore this much of a coincidence. I think these pups were born at the same time as your son for a reason.”

Odysseus nodded slowly. “Wise words, Eumaeus.” He clapped the larger man on the back. “What is it you do here on Ithaca again?”

“I'm a swineherd, my lord.”

“Just a swineherd?” asked Odysseus archly.

“I like to consider myself your friend as well.”

“Well, my friend,” said Odysseus smiling, “it's about time I promoted you. How does senior swineherd sound?”

“You gave me that title last year, I believe, my lord,” said Eumaeus, struggling not to grin.

“So I did,” said Odysseus. “How about I make you my senior advisor then?”

“We've had this conversation,” said Eumaeus. “With all respect, my lord, I like what I do. I like working with pigs.”

Odysseus waved a hand in mock irritation. “This is the thanks I get for trying to help you. Your wife isn't going to be happy. She came and saw me again, by the way. Asked me to find a better position for you.” He shrugged. “Oh well, I tried. I'll probably try again in a few months, too. If I were you, I'd take the job. Your wife scares me.”

“Let me worry about my wife, my lord. You worry about your kingdom.”

Next to them, Amycus cleared his throat. “The pups, my lord?”

“Yes, I hadn't forgotten, Amycus,” said Odysseus sharply. He
turned his attention back toward myself and my other littermates.

“What about that one there?” said Odysseus, pointing toward me. “He's watching us. If I didn't know better, I would say that he's listening.”

“Just curious,” said Amycus. “His eyes have only just opened and this is the first time he's heard human voices. I work here alone and haven't had a visitor since you were last here, my lord.”

“And what do you think about him?” asked Odysseus.

“He's big and strong enough, and healthy looking, but there's better options here, my lord. See that black one suckling on the lower teat? That's the one you want. He's the biggest and strongest. He will serve you well, my lord.”

Odysseus looked from me to my unnamed brother and back to me again. His forehead crinkled with thought. He sighed. “Show me the one you like then, Amycus,” he said finally.

Amycus smiled and nodded, reaching into the birthing nest.

I reacted then without conscious thought. Someone was trying to take my littermate away. My brother. His hand was also getting closer to my mother than I liked. I felt a burning anger welling up inside me.

Swiftly, I launched myself at the intruding hand, latched onto it, and bit with all my might. Perhaps my attack might have been more effective if I'd had teeth but I hadn't thought about it at all. It was pure instinct.

Amycus angrily brushed my attack aside and pulled me off his hand, then continued reaching for my littermate.

“Stop,” said the powerful voice of Odysseus.

Amycus' hand froze mid-reach. “Yes, my lord?”

“I want to look at that one,” he said, pointing again at me. “The one that just embarked on the most ill-advised and pointless attack I've ever seen. I've never seen a puppy so young move so fast.”

Amycus paused for a moment as if considering opposing his master's command. He hesitated for just a little too long—a subtle rebellion. Even I knew resistance when I saw it.

He reached down and grabbed me by the scruff of my neck. For a moment, I saw his face and held his eye. I read hatred there even though this was the first time I had experienced it. He turned to face Odysseus and Eumaeus again, his face devoid of emotion, and held me up for inspection. I wiggled furiously in his grasp, desperate to be free of his clutches.

“Seems strong enough,” commented Eumaeus.

“Indeed he does,” said Odysseus, taking me from Amycus. “But that's not all I'm interested in. See how he protected his littermate and mother when he thought they were in danger? That's what I want in a dog. Strong protective instinct.” As soon as Odysseus touched me, I calmed, soothed by his warm, strong, calloused hands.

“I thought you wanted a dog for hunting?” said Amycus, his voice sounding dangerously sulky.

“I do,” said Odysseus, without looking at the man, his attention and both hands on me. For my part, I was loving it. There was something about being held by Odysseus that just felt right.

Odysseus suddenly looked up and met Amycus' eye. The Master of the Kennels looked decidedly uneasy. “Is there a
problem?” asked Odysseus coolly.

“No … no, my lord,” stammered Amycus. “I just think that the other pup is superior. My recommendation would be to take that one.”

“Thank you for your advice, Amycus, but I have made my decision,” said Odysseus.

“But … ” began Amycus.

“Good. It's settled then,” said Odysseus briskly. “It would be unfortunate if there was a problem, Amycus.” He looked at me again and smiled, stroking my soft brown fur. “I think I will name him Argos.”

Next to him, Eumaeus nodded. “A good name, my lord. ‘Swift footed.'”

“Seems appropriate,” said Odysseus. “He certainly is fast.” He turned to Amycus. “Argos will stay with his mother until he is weaned. I will check in on him from time to time. Keep the three other pups who seem the strongest and sell the others.”

“Yes, my lord,” said Amycus meekly.

“Take good care of my Argos,” warned Odysseus. “See that he is well cared for.” He handed me back to Amycus and I immediately resumed my struggling, resenting the loss of contact with such a reassuring presence.

“I will, my lord,” promised Amycus.

With that, Odysseus strode out of the kennels, Eumaeus following in his wake.

As soon as the two men had gone, Amycus held me up at eye level. I struggled mightily but it barely registered with the man.

“You have made me look a fool,” he sneered. “I will not
forget this. Argos indeed. We will see how swift you are once I have finished with you.”

I had a sense of foreboding that Amycus meant business. I knew instinctively that I had made an enemy—a dangerous one.

He threw me roughly back amongst my littermates. I made no sound at all and I think this surprised him. If he was hoping to elicit some cry of pain, he was disappointed.

He glared at me once more, turned his back, and stalked away.

I sat on my haunches again, filled with conflicting emotions. Excitement from being able to understand humans. A longing to see Odysseus again. Concern over how Amycus would extract his petty revenge.

Life carried on. Eventually, my littermates all opened their eyes, experiencing the world in all its glory for the first time, although perhaps not in quite the same way as myself.

If it hadn't had been for Amycus, it would've been a happy time. My brothers and sisters were bristling balls of energy and inquisitiveness, full of joy. I hoped and longed for one to share my unique perspective, but they did not. Unlike me, they were simple animals. I could sense their emotions like I could with humans. Unlike humans, they were entirely simplistic. All they wanted to do was play, fight, eat, sleep, and defecate. I searched in their eyes for signs of something more but was destined to be disappointed.

Even my mother was little different. All I sensed from her was protectiveness for us, a desire for more food and water, and relief when we weren't worrying away on her teats.

I joined in with the antics of my siblings as much as I could but after a time, I felt a change in our relationship. They didn't shun me or exclude me from games but they didn't seek me out either. If I wanted to play, I would have to initiate it. Even then, the nature of our play was not as exuberant as it was between themselves. It was as though they were confused by what I was and unsure how to act around me. I didn't mind so much. I knew I was different—their interactions with me just confirmed it. Even the biggest of the pups—the large black one favored by Amycus—was slightly wary around me. I knew that physically he was more powerful, but in our play, I always dominated him without trying to do so.

I saw Amycus regularly in the next few weeks. At first, he just watched me. He would arrive unseen and just stand there, his expression unreadable. Not that I needed to read his expression. I could feel the waves of calculating maliciousness wash over me. It was like the heat emanating from the warm body of my mother—something felt and experienced. But unlike my mother's heat, there was nothing comforting about his thoughts.

I always knew when he was there, even if I didn't see him at first. My hackles would rise with the weight of his stare. I would stop what I was doing and turn to face him, matching his stare even though it unnerved me.

I could tell that this disconcerted him too, but he never spoke. Eventually his thoughts metamorphosed into action.

If he saw me feeding contentedly, he would roughly remove me from my mother and move one of my siblings into my comfortable feeding place on her belly. At first, I resented this
unwanted disturbance immensely and immediately forced my way back into position. Amycus would then repeat the process. After four or five times, I decided to change tack. I simply just stopped. Stopped trying to get at my mother. Stopped moving altogether.

Amycus would wait a few moments more and then, with a satisfied nod, leave. Unfortunately, by this time, all my other siblings had piled in and there was no room for me. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't force my way back in. With my brothers and sisters, there was a clear distinction between play and food. I could dominate them during play but when it came to food, they weren't taking prisoners, especially now that we were all getting bigger and as a result, hungrier.

Amycus returned several times during the day. Every visit was the same and after a while, I just gave up. The end result was of course, I lost weight. While my siblings grew fat and soft, I became lean and even a trifle emaciated, my ribs clearly visible under my fur. At night, when my littermates were asleep, I would resume my feeding position but was often too tired to feed properly and fell asleep, my mother's teat hanging slackly out of my drooling mouth.

As promised, Odysseus returned to check on my progress.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded of Amycus when he saw the state I was in. Odysseus cradled my body carefully as if fearful of breaking me. Hungry as I was, I relaxed back into the warmth of his body, contented for the first time in weeks. I'm almost embarrassed to say it, but I believe I may have sighed a few times in pleasure.

The Master of the Kennels spread his hands helplessly. “Argos has become sickly, my lord,” he lied smoothly. “He has refused to eat. I have even tried to hand feed him using cow's milk.”

Odysseus stared at him for a moment but said nothing. The silence lengthened, becoming uncomfortable. I could sense Amycus' anxiety, fearful that his betrayal and sabotage would become apparent. Have I mentioned that Odysseus was very astute? Well, he was.
Strategos
they called him. Master strategician. Odysseus often saw things that others missed. He was and is wiser and more intelligent than most of his peers. Anyway, I knew what Odysseus was thinking. He suspected, but suspicions were nothing without proof.

“Why didn't you call for me earlier?” Odysseus snapped, his eyes narrowing with displeasure.

“I … I didn't want to bother you, my lord. I know you have many pressing matters of state to attend to. I thought the failing health of one little pup was of little concern to such a great king.” I half-expected Amycus to grovel. His obsequiousness almost made me want to bark with laughter.

“Didn't I make myself clear, Amycus?” Odysseus asked. “I told you that this pup is special to me. I picked him myself. He is to be my hunting companion and company for my wife and son. He is important. Just as important as any other matter of state. In fact, in some ways, more so.”

“Why is that, my lord?” asked Amycus in his most ingratiating tone.

“Because,” said Odysseus impatiently, “the love and loyalty of a dog is a precious thing. With luck, it will last all of their life and
a large portion of your own. It is not a thing to be taken lightly. Argos trusted us to care for him. We have failed him. You,” he said, stabbing one thick finger in Amycus' direction, “have failed him. I can't prove what you have done, Amycus, but both you and I know how this came about. Consider this a warning. If I ever hear of you mistreating any of my dogs, you'll wish you'd never been born.”

With me still cuddled into Odysseus' broad chest, he marched out of the kennels. I didn't have to look back to know that Amycus was quivering in abject terror. This knowledge I found deliciously comforting.