The strong winds gusted through the harbor, dragging the ships in the opposite direction. Since the war had begun, Odysseus and the other men had faced one challenge after another, but this seemed the biggest yet, as they couldn't even get close to the Troian Wall with all these gales.

It had been nine years since Odysseus and the other Greek men had sailed for Troy to retrieve Helen. Odysseus had never expected the war would take this long. He wanted to see and touch Penelope again. He wished to see Telemachus grow into a man. Hadn't he promised to teach his son how to fight? In nine years, Odysseus and the other Greeks couldn't even manage to get into the city of Troy. But of course, he couldn't give up, either. Menelaus's honor as a Greek man was at stake. Besides, Penelope wished him to try and rescue her cousin Helen. And beyond that, Odysseus could never turn away from a challenge like out-witting the Trojans.

Still, today, their problems were much bigger than the Trojans.

The gods were blowing their ships all over the harbor so they couldn't even get in the right direction to attack Troy or any Trojans. There was only one way to appease them. A sacrifice would have to be made.

Not just any sacrifice. A big one, that only the commander of the fleet could make. The gods requested that Agamemnon sacrifice his companion through out most of the nine years. Chryseis.

"No!" Agamemnon screamed again and again to all the men. "I won't do it. Chryseis is dearer to me than even my wife." Odysseus paused and reflected on that. He knew Agamenon and his wife, Clytemnestra didn't love each other. How many times had they both said Aprhodite's spells were a waste of time, even as both Helen and Menelaus and Odysseus and Penelope had married under the excitement of erotic love?

It looked like one of Aphrodite's spells had caught Agamemnon, after all.

Blowing harder on the sails, the gods almost flipped the boats upside down. Odysseus had never thought he had a weak stomach, but he struggled not to lose his breakfast after that. Meanwhile, the rest of the men accused Agamenon of being a coward.

"You have to do what the gods say to stop the storm!" One of the men said as loudly as he could.

"You're supposed to be the commander, so do what is necessary for the Greek fleet!" Another said, forcing his voice to be heard even though he sailed in a ship on the opposite end of the harbor.

Once again, the gods whipped the wind across the sea so hard they drowned the men's shouts. Privately, Odysseus agreed with the other men, whether the commander was under Aprhodite's spells or not. If Agamenon was their commander, he had to make the necessary sacrifice for the Greek fleet. Otherwise, they would never win this war and be permitted to return home. But he also knew what many of the other Greek men did not.

Agamenon often said the opposite of what he meant. His Penelope, who had spent a few years living with Agamenon and his brother, had taught Odysseus that. And Agamenon was also the man who'd said over and over that Aprhodite's love spells never lasted. So perhaps Agamenon really meant to make the sacrifice, even as he screamed, no?

Achilles, their strongest champion, got into Agamenon's face and pointed out that the war had already been lost if they couldn't get their ships to move in the right direction. Agamenon didn't push the young man away or punch him in the face, as he'd done with his brother when the all the suitors vied for Helen's hand. He didn't yell at Achilles in protest, as he'd done with the others.

But nor did Agamenon hide his face to the mighty Achilles. The man may be the youngest Greek in their party, but his muscles were stronger than even Big Ajax's. More than that, in their nine years of war, the young man hadn't been injured once. People said Achilles was part god, as his mother was the sea goddess, Thetis. Odysseus looked at Agamenon with new respect as he didn't cower from the demi-god.

Odysseus now knew Agamenon was using reverse psychology. Their commander had been saying the opposite of what he meant again. Otherwise, he would have fought or cowered from Achilles. And that meant he had implicit permission to do this. With that, Odysseus placed Chryseis at the top of their sail and sacrificed her to the angry gods.

As her blood spilled, all the ships sailed back towards Troy. And a bit closer to the end of the war, when Odysseus could see Penelope, Telemachus, and the rest of his family once again.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

OOOOOOOOO

Penelope could still see Odysseus's ship sailing away from Ithaca, even nine years later. Every night, she would dream of her husband climbing aboard the boat, and during the day, she would think of the ship disappearing into Poseidon's Sea. And last night was no exception. She'd dreamed of Odysseus saying goodbye to her and Telemachus, before he disappeared, leaving a gaping hole in her heart.

Who knew it would take this long for the men to rescue Helen? The delay almost made Penelope wonder if Odysseus had been right when he'd suggested that Aphrodite's spell on Helen and Menelaus had ended, and Helen didn't wish to return to her husband.

Shaking her head as she woke fully, Penelope pushed such thoughts out of her mind once again. She shouldn't think ill of her cousin whom she'd always loved, especially as Helen had helped in allowing Penelope to marry Odysseus. She made her way to the bath, allowing the servant girls to ready her for her day.

It was just that living without her husband was more difficult than she'd expected, she thought as the servants poured water and rubbed oil. Every day, Telemachus grew up without his father, and although Penelope tried to rule Ithaca with wise council, the people were beginning to grow impatient for their king's return.

What was it that she used to say to Odysseus when he complained about waiting?

Ah, yes. "Sometimes we don't have a choice." She didn't have a choice now. No one did. Penelope grabbed onto her previous wisdom like a lifeline while the servants perfumed her hair. Sometimes she wondered why she should bother with scenting her hair, when she had no husband to entice, but of course, it was considered necessary for a queen.

Still, if only there was one day where she didn't have to listen to the Ithacans complain about trade agreements and petty squabbles between landowners, Penelope thought as her queen's robes were wrapped around her. As a young woman, she'd looked forward to the day when she'd be queen, sitting on a throne and giving wise council. But now it weighed heavy, especially as no matter what decision she made, people were always quick to say that Odysseus would do better.

Perhaps she and Telemachus could spend the day at his grandparents' cottage. Just one day, where she could put aside her responsibilities as queen and just be a mother. Laertes and Anticeia would love to see Telemachus. She pictured her son playing in their apple orchard, while all three adults laughed in his still innocent delight.

A wide smile spread across Penelope's face, and she knew that was the answer. She'd send a messenger immediately.

OOOOOOOOOO

Yet when the messenger returned an hour later, he wore a somber expression. "My queen, I regret to inform you that Anticeia has gone to the underworld."

Penelope's smile immediately became a frown. Her mother-in-law, known for her great hugs and love, had died? Just when she and Telemachus had planned to spend the day with her. Why hadn't she decided to spend the day at Laertes and Anticeia's cottage a few days earlier? Telemachus could have received one more hug from his grandmother, and Penelope could have asked more questions to the woman who'd been queen before her for many years.

"Tell Laertes that Telemachus and I will be there as soon as we can ready the chariot," she said to the messenger, swallowing a lump as she did so.

OOOOOOOOOO

"But are you certain she's really dead, Mother?" said Telemachus as they rode in the chariot. "Maybe she's just taking an extra long visit to Morpheus. Maybe if we found the right doctor or herbalist, she'd return to us. Maybe –"

"No, Telemachus," Penelope said, wishing she didn't have to teach her son about death so early. She'd been so happy to keep him from the war that she thought it would be a few more years before he'd be faced with death. "I'm afraid your grandmother is gone to Hades for good."

Penelope's eyes watered as she said that. She'd give anything if her son had been correct, and Anticeia was just sick, and soon she would open her eyes and smile at them again. Hug them again. But she also knew the messenger would never tell her Anticeia was dead unless it was certain.

Telemachus shook his head. "It can't be true," he said, folding his arms. "She wouldn't leave me. There must be another explanation." Her son had the same strong will as his father, and it often made Penelope proud. Other times it made her scream in frustration.

This time it caused tears to fall. He was going to be heartbroken when he realized he was wrong.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Any subconscious hope that Penelope retained that she might be wrong about Anticeia disappeared when the chariot stopped. Laertes stood in front of his cottage, with tears streaming down his face in the same way Penelope would if Odysseus ever left this Earth.

"I'm so sorry," she said to her father-in-law, her own eyes watering again. She didn't see the orchard surrounding the house, or the mountains in the background. All she saw was her father-in-law's grief, and her own regret. "I planned a visit just this morning," She wiped her eyes. "I wish we'd visited more often. Then maybe…"

"Maybe nothing," Telemachus said as he climbed off the chariot, ignoring his grandfather's river of tears. "She's not dead. She cannot be. I'll prove it." With that, he ran into the cottage.

"He thinks more and more like his father every day," Laertes said, fresh tears falling.

Penelope nodded, dreading even more than before what would happen to her son when he finally realized his grandmother was dead. She didn't want to enter the cottage. And by Laertes slow steps, he felt the same way.

But eventually, she and her father-in-law reached the threshold and watched as Telemachus begged his grandmother to wake. He splashed water on her cold body. He put fresh flowers under her nose and rubbed healing herbs onto her skin.

Every time Telemachus failed, Penelope's heart broke even more.

"What happened?" Penelope finally asked, as Telemachus attempted to rub more healing herbs on Anticeia.

Laertes shrugged. "She'd been growing sadder and sadder as Odysseus doesn't return. No one expected the war to last this long."

Penelope nodded. Hadn't she thought the same thing over the last couple of years?

He wiped more stray tears from his eyes. "But I never thought…" he shook his head. "I mean I thought with Telemachus still here, and even me…" He swallowed. "This morning, she wouldn't wake up. At first, I thought what Telemachus believed. That she was away with Morpheus. But then I realized her body was cold, and she wasn't breathing."

He whispered those last two words, as if they were a deadly secret he was afraid to share. And they were.

"I'm here," Telemachus said, as loudly as possible into his grandmother's ear. "Your grandson. I need one of your great big hugs." But of course, Anticeia lay motionless.

Penelope finally went to her son and gave him the biggest hug she could. It was no substitute for her mother-in-law, but it was all she had. "You can help us plan the funeral, son."

As they planned the funeral, Penelope thought about what Laertes said. That Anticeia had grown sadder and sadder the longer Odysseus was at war. Didn't that describe her, too? How many times did she remember Odysseus's ship disappearing from her eyes? What if missing Odysseus caused Hades to take Penelope, too? But Penelope had told her husband that she was a strong Spartan woman who could survive anything.

It was time to put her words into action and focus on her son and the people of Ithaca, not on when Odysseus may or may not return. That was what her husband had trusted her to do, after all.