Donjeta and the Sea -- Chapter Four -- The Witch's Isle

The three Ithacan ships sped in front of the storm, barely keeping ahead. Our crew shot into action, getting everything shipshape fast, tying down what they could, except their oars. They tied themselves to their benches, and their oars swept the sea.

"Is this a good idea, Captain, to row into the storm?"

"I'd rather risk Poseidon's wrath than that prince. Death is less certain, and a better death in any case."

"We could parley with Telemachus, make him let you go in exchange for me."

"And trust him not to kill us once he had you safe?"

"I could cling to a barrel until you passed over the horizon. If he came near me, or pursued, I would cast myself into the sea."

"Might work. Might not. We haven't the time with the storm. But still, I wouldn't agree. The goddess commanded me to keep you safe. I won't risk her certain wrath, or her fierce sister's. Better to die at sea."

"Ah."

"You should go below, Princess."

"No. I won't die hiding. I'll face this head-on, and if we live, what a sight to have seen. No Captain, tie me to the rail."

We rowed off angle to the Ithacans toward the tempest. Two of their ships sped on straight. They would miss us by far. The other turned.

"He follows."

Of course he did. He was stupid, not cowardly.

The waves rose to the sky. The wind howled, and the rain beat. The dark sea churned, casting us this way and that—until I didn't know up from down. The clouds, the sea—same thing.

It wasn't long before the wood began to splinter. The oars went first. Strong oars that had survived many voyages splintered like twigs before the roaring surge. Then the planking was stripped along the left-fore. The sea came in, and the men bellowed in terror. They cut their lashings and tossed themselves into the sea to their watery graves. I heard a spar snap, then another. It wasn't much longer. The sea grabbed us and spun us around. Down we went, and the water closed over the ship.

I took my knife, the one from darling Pallas, and cut the line that bound me to the splintering hull. I slipped free under the water. I was pulled away and twisted in the darkness. The knife was wrenched from my grasp, gone forever. I had no more hope.

Cold hands grabbed me, strong hands that seized me and overcame my panic. I felt the creature kick, propelling us through the water with the strength of many men. I saw long hair swirl in the shadowy blue. I saw its eyes.

To the surface, with its pelting rain and shearing wind. I gasped a life-giving breath. The creature still held me, a nereid—I guessed—a daughter of the old king of the sea. She swam me to a long splinter of the ship's keel, bobbing in the waves. She placed me on it, and I grabbed firm. She kissed me. Then she dived.

I clung to that scrap of wood, carried along by the storm through the day and most of the night, until it blew itself out. The stars showed themselves, and all the world was calm.

Thirst. Drifting and thirst—many days. And the unbearable sun.

I woke on a white beach with a lush green forest beyond. Telemachus stood over me, his body bruised, his clothes torn. He had a big leering grin.

"Oh Poseidon has answered my every prayer, dear Donjeta, for here we are stranded on this lonely isle, far in the endless sea, together. What could be better?"

"Many things could be better Telemachus. Many, many things."

I had no knife, but neither had he. However, throwing him to the sand and strangling him would give me no pleasure, just then. He seemed pitiful, his evil deeds more the tantrums of a silly child than the malice a fearsome man.

"Is there food?"

"Yes. The trees are abundant with a delicious red fruit. And the animals! They are so tame to walk right up to you. When we've fashioned a simple spear, I will slaughter one for you, and you can prepare a meal."

If he thought I'd cook for him, he was crazy, but he brought me some of the red fruit, and I ate, suckling on the juices which stung my cracked lips. I staggered into the trees to a spring and drank my fill.

I said a prayer to Pallas, giving her all my love.

"How about the trees? They seem stout. Can we cut some down? Can we make the tools? We could build a raft."

"Ha! Donjeta, ever looking to escape. But here's the funny part. There's a ship! A full ship, appointed and ready to sail."

"Oh?"

"Ah, but it's a fifty man ship, empty and no sign of a crew."

"I'll look at this ship."

"I wonder if you'll recognize it. It's the most amusing thing. I'm still laughing. Poseidon, ever my family's friend."

The ship was in a small cove a mile down the beach. It was the slave ship, the one that had brought me to Ithaca, pulled up on the sand and tied off to the trees.

"Yes! My prayers to Poseidon were answered, and this foolish captain was brought low for daring to lash my lovely Donjeta!"

He reached out to touch me. I stepped away.

I searched the ship and found a knife and spear. I tossed him a spear also. We ate more fruit, and drank again. I felt strength returning. We headed inland to explore the isle.

As we passed into the thickness of the woods, we came across a trail heading up to the steep heights in the center of the isle. We followed it, alert.

"This island isn't quite as lonely as you thought."

"I guess it isn't."

A beautiful youth with only hints of his first beard came crashing out of the trees barely five yards ahead of us. He saw us, stopped and turned, and gave a little bow.

"Fellow travelers, what brings you to the Isle of Aeaea?"

"Huh? The Isle of ah-eh-what?"

"Aeaea."

"Shipwrecked, and you Greeks make the silliest words."

He smiled.

"The undying gods named this island, lovely girl. What are your names?"

"Donjeta. This is prince Telemachus."

"Ah! Telemachus! The son of clever Odysseus?"

"I am he."

"How wonderful. Well friends, I'm called Phoibos. I hail from Thebes with seven gates."

That's what they called the Thebes in Greece. The one in Egypt had more gates.

"Ah. Well Phoibos, what brings you to this lonely isle? Do you live here?" I asked.

"No. This is the home of Circe, the fearsome witch. I'm just passing through. I shall deliver you a message, and a warning."

"Oh?"

"There is a gray eyed lady who says do not give up hope. She watches over you, as she can, and there are friends everywhere."

I smiled.

"And she warns you, do not eat the flesh of the pig, no matter how hungry you become, no matter how nicely the witch offers. Do not eat, not on this isle."

"I shall not."

He came close and whispered.

"And I'm to give you this. It is an elixir that dispels foul magic. When you're ready, when your position is strong, feed it to the pigs."

He deftly slipped the potion into my belt. Telemachus was staring at a tree and didn't seem to notice.

"Farewell friends. If you continue on this path, you'll come to the witch's house. Remember, do not eat the pigs."

With that he winged off into the trees and was gone from sight.

"I wonder if he has a boat?"

"He was sent by the gods you idiot."

Telemachus was starting to crack.

He hadn't been kidding about the animals. When we reached the witch's house, there were lions and wolves sauntering around the little glen, calm with no sense of threat. The prince walked straight out.

"See. They're perfectly tame."

He walked right up to a wolf and petted its scruff. It nuzzled him.

The house itself sat beyond the glen, two stories with walls of dressed stone. It had narrow windows and a wide open door over a small set of steps. Down them came the witch, wearing a flowing gown of finely spun thread. Her hair was dark and lustrous, in braids. She had wide dark eyes and full pouty lips. She stopped and looked at the prince fondling her wolf. A smile crossed her face, slowly, as if she relished the very arrival of the feeling—whatever feelings the witch may have.

"Welcome guest. What brings you, a man so clearly of high and noble birth, to my home?"

The prince glanced up, noticing her. He stood frozen for several seconds.

"Shipwrecked in a storm, castaway on the waves to drift for days, and brought to your door, one so clearly a god, by Poseidon himself. I am Telemachus, prince of Ithaca. Who are you?"

"I'm Circe, and I'm overjoyed that you have come. We will drink to the god of the sea for sending you. Come. It's warm inside."

The prince went. The door closed behind him. Neither he nor the witch seemed to notice me at all.

I stole to the side of the house to peer through a window. When I got there, I noticed the pigsties and heard the grunting of the swine. They were behind the house, their enclosure ramshackle as if hastily made, wooden posts and narrow slats lashed together by twine.

I crept up to them. I made a quick count, about fifty pigs rooting in the muck. I stood and watched them, feeling the dark knowledge come over me. It was obvious.

Back to the house, to a window. I listened and heard the sweet musical tone of the witch's laughter. Then I heard the unmistakable sizzling sound of frying grease, and the smell hit me. I ran to the front and up the stairs. I yanked the door open—it wasn't locked—and sprinted into the hall.

"Don't eat the pigs, Telemachus!"

"But I'm hungry and it smells good."

The witch stood by the hearth heating a iron plate. She turned and looked at me.

"Oh—and who is this? You didn't mention you had a friend, darling Telemachus. What's your name, sweetie?"

"Hi. I'm Donjeta."

"Hi Donjeta. I'm Circe."

"Yeah. I figured that out. Telemachus, trust me. Don't eat the pig."

The witch smiled at me. I noticed several rashers of meat frying on the iron. A slaughtered pig was hanging from a hook.

"Shall I put some on for you sweetie. The fruit on this island is delicious, but hardly nourishing. A growing body needs meat."

My stomach grumbled and turned. She was right about the fruit.

"No thank you."

I still had my spear and knife. Telemachus had set his spear in the corner, but I held on to mine.

I shot forward and lunged at her. Telemachus shrieked. She turned fast. With a simple flick of her hand a bright light flashed. I saw nothing but spots. I blinked, spinning around, thrusting my spear this way and that, but hit nothing but the wall. Then strong arms grabbed me and wrapped me up. I felt the spear yanked from my grasp, and the knife stripped from my belt.

"What a wretched little creature! Tie her up!"

"Donjeta, how could you? She is our host."

I felt my wrists and ankles bound. I was cast into a corner. Gradually my sight returned, and I saw Telemachus gorging on the flesh of the pig, the flesh of the ship's crew transformed. Circe watched him, smiling.

"The gods will punish you for this."

"Oh sweetie, the gods have already punished me, banished to this isle to be lonely forever, trapped with nothing but my silence and my spells."

"Why did you do it? Turn the ship's crew to swine, then feed them to Telemachus?"

"Ah, now he is cursed. He has eaten the flesh of men. He cannot return to civilized lands; what city would take in one so stained? No, Telemachus must stay with me now, on Circe's isle. I will give him eternal life, and I will never be lonely again."

I had to admit, I didn't see a downside. 'Cept for the pig.

"Couldn't you convince one of the ship's crew to stay with you? Surely at least one man would delight at eternal life with a nymph?"

"No doubt, but those men were dirty and crude. Have you seen them? They are hardly more grotesque as swine than as men."

"Ah yes, I know those men well and bear them no love."

"I'm glad you've become so reasonable. Our relationship started on the wrong foot, I think."

"Yes. It did. So—what do you intend for the remainder of the pigs. Surely not to eat them, I hope."

She pondered.

"Well—yes, that's what I planned to do. Have you a better suggestion?"

"Give them to me."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Since you have darling Telemachus to keep you warm, I would only get in the way. In fact, the prince was rather sweet on me before he met you. Having me around would only tempt him, weak as he is, and lead to petty jealousy. Neither of us want that. So, give me the crew to row me back to the lands of men."

"I won't spend my power to undo the spell. My magic ingredients are precious to me, and I have such little left."

"Leave that to me. I have friends and resources."

"Ah! Yes! I expect that you do. Alright, the crew is yours. Take them and soon; their constant grunting interrupts my sleep. And more, for bringing me such a sweet man, I will give you a gift."

"Oh?"

"Yes. An elixir. A balm to heal the mightiest wounds. Take it. If ever you, or another, are cut down—even if only with the barest shred of life—apply this to the wound and all will be well. Even blindness or severed limbs are nothing to it. It will heal all."

I thanked the witch. I took the balm, and my pigs, and slipped out without saying goodbye to Telemachus.

I led the pigs to the shore. I found the captain first; he was the large bossy pig. I gave him a drop of the elixir, the one Pallas sent. There was a column of smoke, and he turned back into a man.

"Hi Captain. Remember me!"

I kicked him hard—there. He dropped howling.

"That's for the beatings, and for selling me to that wretched prince!"

He lay on the ground, curled up and gurgling.

"So, dear captain, we have a bit of a predicament."

He didn't answer. He kept gurgling. I guess I'd kicked him too hard.

"So, I have a way to turn you back to men, which no doubt you all want. And you have a ship to row back to the lands of men. It seems a simple enough deal, but how can I trust you?"

He was finally able to utter words.

"I give you my word."

"Hmm. No, your word is worth nothing."

"What choice do you have?"

He had a point. I sat on a log and watched the pigs root in the sand.

I knocked on the witch's door.

"Hi Circe."

"Hi Donjeta. I thought you'd left."

"Well, I didn't get very far. So look, can you make me appear like the captain of the ship?"

"It's possible. Why?"

"The obvious reason. I would tie him up in the woods, change the crew back, and sail away with them. Then, when I got somewhere safe, I'd change back—oh, and I need a way to change back too. Then I'd escape from them."

"Sounds nice, but no. I told you, my ingredients are precious to me. I already gave you the healing elixir. That's all you get. The rest, figure it out!"

She slammed the door.

I got an idea. I knocked on her door again.

"What?"

"How 'bout chains? Do you have any chains?"

"Yes, Donjeta, I have many chains."

"Can I borrow—like—fifty?"

She didn't have fifty chains, but I got another idea. It required rope. The ship had plenty of rope.

I restored each man one by one, overpowering him and tying him to an oar—with two ropes, one long, one short. The captain too, I tied him to an oar.

I slew two men who struggled when I tied them. The rest got wise.

'Cept Eukleides. I remembered him and slew him right away. He didn't even struggle.

I cut the lines that held the ship. Then, I waited for the tide to lift us. When it did, I went down the line and lashed the men, making them row us out past the waves. I shouted at them like a devil. I slew three who lurched at me, trying to break their bonds.

We got past the breakers. I went to the rear deck and looked over the men.

"Alright! Now I choose ten, enough to work the sail and get us, gods willing, to some civilized land. Just ten, the men who convince me they'll be loyal, who'll follow me. Speak up! Who will swear!"

Chaos erupted. About half began to swear. The other half struggled at their bonds. I ran down the line stabbing right and left with my spear, killing many. The rest became docile as little lambs. But I remembered—I remembered the first to swear.

I chose my men, the ten I guessed most loyal.

"Alright. The rest of you have two choices. I kill you, or you go over the side. Swim back to the witch's isle or die at sea. I don't care."

I went down the line row by row to the unlucky men. If they struggled, they died, my spear in their throat. If they submitted, I cut the short rope with the long edge of the spear. I prodded them 'till the went over the side, dangling on the water by the long rope. Then I cut that and brandished the spear to make sure they swam away.

It was slow bloody work. The screams and groans were terrible. One man tried to swim back to the ship and get behind me. Others refused to jump, begging to be chosen. Those men died. Soon only the ten were left. The captain had gone over the side.

"Alright men! You've sworn before the gods to follow me. I'll cut your bonds."

I started at the front, cutting each free, then dancing out of reach to the next. I went quickly down the ship. Then I hopped up on the rear deck, looking back at the men gathered below.

"Alright you dogs, raise the mast. Set the sail."

Five got a fierce look and came at me, but I'd counted on that. I slew them fast, two with my spear, the second wresting it from my grasp as he fell back dying. Then my knife came out, and I leapt among the three turning and slashing among the oars until they went down, blood gushing from opened throats. Back to the deck.

"Throw the dead over the side, then hoist the sail!"

I was left with five loyal men.