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"Over here!" Odysseus called out as he stepped into the vast cave. To his surprise, a massive herd of sheep filled the cavern, their woolly forms shifting like a living sea. Polites smiled and turned to his friends. He froze, spotting Eurylochus drawing back an arrow.
"Wait!" Polites shouted, his voice echoing off the cave walls. "Stay your hand. We can't just slaughter these sheep."
"Why not?" Eurylochus retorted. "We have six hundred men to feed. We can’t afford to be choosy."
Odysseus stood between them, his gaze flicking from Polites to Eurylochus and then to the sheep. He took a breath and slowly lowered his weapon.
"Polites is right," he conceded, his tone firm. "A herd this big cannot be without a shepherd."
Silence fell, and the weight of unspoken possibilities lingered in the air.
Eurylochus scowled, still gripping his bow. "And what would you have us do, Odysseus? Walk away hungry while these sheep stand here waiting for slaughter? There’s no sign of a shepherd anywhere. Just a cave full of meat."
Odysseus raised a hand to calm him.
"We’re not desperate enough to steal blindly. We must be wary of the consequences." He affirms. "If these sheep belong to a god, the price could be more than we’re willing to pay."
Eurylochus shook his head in frustration, glancing at the sheep. "And what if no god lays claim? We’ll have wasted a chance for nothing."
"Who are you?"
A massive figure emerged from the shadows. It was a cyclops, its single, unblinking eye glinting in the dim light. The creature lumbered forward, hunched and crawling, its heavy limbs carefully maneuvering around the sheep, taking care not to crush a single one.
"Hey there!" Odysseus stepped forward, his hand raised in a gesture of peace. "We mean no harm. We’re travelers in need of food. We ask only to take some of your sheep to feed our hungry men."
The Cyclops snarled, its voice a deep growl. "Why have you come here, mortals? How dare you intrude upon my home and ask for my flock?"
"There’s been a misunderstanding!" Polites interjected quickly, doing his best to keep his voice steady. "We came from the island to the west, with the lotus eaters. They told us of this place but neglected to mention it was inhabited. For that, I apologize. I should have questioned them more thoroughly before leading us here."
The Cyclops narrowed its eye.
"Apologies will not fill your bellies, nor do they make your trespass any less bold."
Odysseus met the creature’s gaze unflinchingly, his mind already racing for a way out of this.
“A trade!” Polites blurted out. “We can make a trade, yes? Captain, you still have some of that lotus fruit, don’t you?”
Odysseus hesitated, recalling the fruit he had brought along, intending to discard it safely on the island to prevent his men from falling under its spell again.
“I… yes, we have fruit,” he said cautiously, holding the Cyclops's gaze.
“Will you trade some of your sheep for it?” Polites asked, trying to keep his tone light. “I’m sure a strong fellow like you could use it!”
The Cyclops grunted, a deep rumble resonating in its chest as it considered the offer.
“A trade…” It muttered, the word rolling slowly off its tongue.
“I have no use for fruit,” it said, dismissing the lotus with a wave of its massive hand. Then its gaze shifted, falling on Polites with unsettling intensity. “But there is something else…”
Polites stiffened as the cyclops’s eye lingered on him.
“You, pretty one,” the creature said, a strange gleam in its eye. “Your voice would be a welcome song in my cave, and I have not had a companion in many years. I would treat you well. Keep you happy.”
“What?!”
Odysseus’s jaw tightened, his mind racing to navigate this dangerous turn.
“Surely there must be something else you would accept.” Odysseus urged, trying to keep his tone steady as the cyclops loomed over them.
“If not the hand of one, what about the flesh of your men?” The cyclops rumbled, its eye gleaming. “Meat for meat, an equal trade. You can take as many sheep as comrades you leave behind for me to feast upon.”
“Absolutely not!” Eurylochus snapped, his voice rising before he could restrain it. “We are not cattle to be slaughtered.”
"Then I insist on my original price, his hand in marriage.”
Odysseus froze, looking back at Polites who was just as shocked.
“You cannot marry someone without giving your name first!” Odysseus challenged, his voice steady despite the looming threat.
“My name is Polyphemus,” the Cyclops boomed, his deep voice resonating off the cave walls like distant thunder. “I am the son of Poseidon, lord of the seas.”
Eurylochus seized the moment, trying to help. “Well, in our customs, you cannot take a bride without providing a dowry! What do you have to offer?”
“You will have some of my sheep. Is that not enough?” Polyphemus scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I will give you more if that is what is required.”
“I cannot be wed outside my homeland!” Polites interjected. “And- And you would need the blessing of my parents to marry me. Without it, our union cannot be valid. I will be unhappy”
Polyphemus leaned down, his massive frame casting a shadow over Polites.
“I cannot have an unhappy bride...” he mused. “It would not be fair to you. I want my bride to sing with joy, to fill my cave with laughter.”
“Yes! Exactly,” Polites responded, relieved to find a flicker of understanding in Polyphemus’s gaze. “So please, let me go home. I cannot be wed here.”
Polyphemus nodded slowly, his brow furrowing in thought.
“I see...” He hummed, closing his eye. “Then I will go with you. I will visit your homeland and ask for their blessing myself.”
"What?"