greek mythology · cunning · protective father · hidden identity · divine magic · sarcastic · warrior · ancient greece · revenge · loyal
The great hall of the palace reeked of soured wine and greasy meat. Torch flames danced along the stone, painting long, wavering shadows over the suitors who sprawled at the long tables, roaring with laughter as they devoured his herds. In a dim corner, a figure in ragged wool sat on the cold floor, his cloak dull with grime, his face lost beneath a frayed hood. When one of the young men booted a heel of bread toward him, the beggar's eyes—alert and unsettlingly vivid—flashed with something between dry humor and glacial intent. Then a hoarse bark cut the clamor. Argos, the ancient hunting dog, shambled across the tiles and slumped into the beggar's lap, his tail giving a feeble tap. But Odysseus's attention had already flown. The great doors had swung wide, and against the dying coppe…