Despite that tumultuous night ten years prior Odysseus was able to almost completely forget the image of that naked and vulnerably open young girl.
He returned to Alchenon's city upon the elder man's seemingly anxious request: for his only daughter, Seryphia, was to be engaged- and the political opportunity this encased required a wise mentor.
Odysseus felt much obliged to fulfil Alchenon's request, and though he regretted leaving Penelope- his young wife of three years- her pregnancy made it quite dangerous for her to undertake sea voyage. And besides, this summer was one of the most prosperous of the Ithacan crops and his contribution to the labour was unrequired.
On the surface of her mind, it would seem also that Silhaume too, had forgotten that night. The memories seemed pushed away, to some deep and dark recess that in recent days threatened to leak poisonly to the surface of her being.
She was still not married, she had given herself to the temple of Athene, and felt a new rebellion grow within her- she was intelligent, purified by glorious Athene's wisdom and still a virgin. She would not relinquish her body to be sullied by men as her mind had been.
She knelt at the base of the goddess's marble statue and laid a freshly killed fowl at her feet. The bird was still warm, and the rich blood that dripped onto Athene's toes stained them into flesh like hues.
She took her time with her prayers, knowing full well that she would not get back home in time to welcome her uncle's guests. She did not care.
Finally she retreated and, pulling a blue gauze veil over her head, felt invisible as her escort drove her home in the chariot.
She wore the veil, as another mark of respect for Athene- only the goddess was to see her face. She only took it off in the temple and in her private rooms before sleeping. In truth she could not face, unmasked, the other faces of the world.
Silhaume sensed her uncle's anger even before she came before him in the foyer. His face turned red, veins appeared in his forehead,
"Seryphia's honour is at stake- do you care for nothing except the humiliation of your family as you frolic in town!"
"Alchenon, you are not my family, nor do I frolic and well you know I desire none of your said humiliation."
"You're a clever little bitch aren't you? I'll have no more of this!"-
And with those words his short arm shot out and tore the veil down from her head. A tangle of her hair ripped, her eyes blazed. She said nothing, but looked in the near distance- where Alchenon's precious visitors had waited and watched the calamity in silent shock.
Silhaume felt exposed, she felt their eyes crawling like stinging insects up and down her body. Her head spun. Her eyes grew faint with fear of her exposure and Odysseus, standing amidst the crowd saw a familiar weakness erupt in her- he motioned to the other guests to retreat into the main hall.
Alchenon, further enraged at the witnesses of his fury, hurled the shaking woman up the back stairs where she scrambled to the safety of her quarters.
Her uncle growled at her to prepare for dinner, Silhaume heard his words but could not determine their meaning in the chaos of her whirling thoughts.
Seryphia and her nurse found Silhaume a short while later, they wiped the sweat and tears from her face and dressed her in an ornate gown. Slowly Silhaume began to regain sense, she refused to wear the gaudy jewels that Seryphia offered to her and declined the nurse to apply any makeup- especially to the deep scratch on her cheek that her uncle had caused.
She stood alone in front of the mirror whilst Seryphia went to ready herself in her finest wear.
Silhaume was not an unattractive girl- far from it. Though she had not the awe inspiring feminine face or grace of her cousin, she possessed a more steely beauty. Her eyes were a murky blue- secretive and sharp. Her features were most like an uncut gemstone- furiously earthy and dangerously magnetic.
But she was not yet ready to join the dinner feast downstairs.
First, listening that no one was nearby, she opened her wardrobe- at the back of which was hidden a large panel, she pulled it free.
Within was a small shrine- dedicated to Athene- adorned with silver and candles and incense, as well as her most prized possessions: a bronze helmet she had smuggled, along with a spear. She touched the cold surface and felt calmed once again.
As she reinstalled the panel she gazed at the wall drawings of which she had scrawled in her unused kohl pencils and lip colours: Athene springing from Zeus' head, Athene standing tall and magnanimous on Olympus.
Finally, she joined the feast. It was extravagant- Alchenon obviously wanted to impress his honoured guests.
Silhaume detested their eyes on her body as she descended to her seat; she was beside Seryphia and the wife of Kaudion, who attempted several times to strike a conversation on the merits of weaving with the unresponsive Silhaume.
She, in fact, was concentrating on the uproariously laughing figure of Alchenon, laughing at the joke of one the guests. She saw his hidden victory.
She also saw Odysseus, to Alchenon's right, and was flooded with an overwhelming flood of emotion: anger, a strange supremacy and still... love.
Odysseus, grinning with Alchenon, caught Silhaume's eye again and she saw his lips part in some wonder of her. She stared back- in defiance, and also a lingering curiosity for she: the rebellious niece of Alchenon was abhorrent of men and yet the mere sight of this one man, with his irresistible smile and piercing eyes, sent sparks like exploding embers in the core of her belly.
Her mouth was dry and she drank the sweet wine.
Finally Alchenon rose and said, "Perhaps the women would prefer to retire now?" and without word each woman also rose and said a respectful goodnight to their spouses, Seryphia kissed her father's cheek.
Silhaume had remained seated.
"Silhaume, perhaps you'd like to retire now?"
Silhaume paused, took another sip of wine and smiled,
"Yes, uncle, perhaps I would," she stood up, to the relief of Alchenon, but then continued,
"Unless you would prefer to tear off another portion of my clothing and cause me to bleed? No? Oh, I see- I am embarrassing you again, please accept my weak, womanly apologies."
She made a crude bow and retreated to the direction of her rooms, yet here she paused- expecting the inevitable- as she hid behind a pillar.
She heard Alchenon address the entire table, "I am sorry, my dear, dear friends for that altercation- but my niece, she is quite ill- there are terrible thoughts in her mind. I know not what to do with her."
Another man spoke, "I mean no disrespect, Alchenon, but she is too unruly- and there is only one way to deal with an unruly woman..." as he trailed off he must have made some sort of sexual allusion for the entire party laughed.
Then another spoke- there was the even, and mystical huskiness of Odysseus' voice,
"So you mean to say, Tarenid, that Silhaume is to be 'broken'- like a horse..."
Silhaume knew then that he was looking at her- his piercing eyes breaching her hiding place,
"...Or a slave?"
There was more talk- chattering and laughter as the men joked of what to do with the unmarried maid- she was almost 26 years old!
A heavy weight- bile, a poison- filtered into Silhaume's blood.
She stalked from behind the pillar, back to the suddenly silent table,
She stood above Alchenon,
"You- spineless excuse for life. I have seen more useful creatures in the gizzards of dead livestock!
If you wish to speak of how further you plan to destroy what remains of me then have the gall to address me alone."
She had slammed her hands onto the tabletop- shards of glass embedded in her fingers. Her blooded hand moved to Alchenon's face- she clawed at his eyes, but he kicked her away.
She did not fall, but faced Odysseus, "And you- 'wily, Ithacan fox' have a no better sense of wisdom than him!"
By now Alchenon sat wiping his face, he motioned at one of the servants to lead her away.
She did so, with no attempt to fight.
Silhaume collapsed into bed; she did not wash away the blood on her hands. She shut her eyes and found her heart was empty, though it pounded like a drum.
Finally she wept- twice already today and ten years after she had shed tears last.
