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They're standing there, like flightless birds.
Standing isn't the right word. They aren't standing. Their feet aren't touching the ground. The rope is around their necks.
Their twelve bodies are on display as a warning, and it's working. If anyone had thought of betraying Odysseus, I'm sure they won't do it now. Most of the maids had come closer, to a greater or lesser extent, to see them. I hadn't dared until today.
I wonder when they will remove their bodies from there and burn or bury them, if they even plan to.
I don't know what Queen Penelope thinks about this. She was asleep when everything happened, but I'm sure the king wouldn't have even bothered to ask her if she was awake. Thinking this way is treason, isn't it? That would make me a traitor.
No, I'm not a traitor. I haven't thrown things at the king, nor have I insulted him when he was pretending to be a beggar. I'm just thinking. I respect him and have been loyal to the royal family.
I haven't looked at their bodies for a long time; I don't think I could. Even so, I make an effort to lift my gaze from the floor.
It's a shocking image. They are there. Hanged, dead. They were almost my friends. Some of them were my friends. I have to remind myself about talking about them in past.
Melantho shares the center position with another girl. She still looks beautiful, even after death. I know she treated the king badly, but many of the suitors did the same, and they weren't hanged for it. Sure, they were killed, but not publicly.
I think about Melantho's brother, Melanthius. They cut off his nose, ears, and more things I don't feel like remembering right now. Thinking about that is even more disgusting than I thought. My mind goes back to the twelve girls.
Eurycleia, showing she was loyal, told Odysseus about every girl who slept with the suitors. I could have been one of them, one of the seduced or taken by force by the suitors. The simple thought of that scares me.
“Past is past”, Queen Penelope would say. The only thing I can do for them right now is pray that they arrive safely in Hades.
I share these worries with some of the other maids, being careful so Eurycleia doesn't hear us. They pretend not to really care, but I can see what they really think.
They're scared. I'm also scared.
I don't want to be hanged.
None of us wanted to be hanged.