Dr. Katherine nodded. “The third voyage of Odysseus, you say? Well that’s an easy one.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. There isn’t one.”
“Oh.”
“But….” She paused, a finger in the air, concentration on her face. “Come to think of it, there should have been, I believe.”
Aneirin looked up.
She pulled a volume from the wall and began flipping through it. “Let’s see here….yes, alright. The first voyage of Odysseus is to Troy. His second voyage is the voyage home, but….”
She held the book out to him, pointing to a passage. “Book 11, 130-152. Tiresias, in the underworld, explains to Odysseus what he must do to appease the god Poseidon, who has cursed him for blinding Poseidon’s son, the Cyclops Polyphemus.”
“Poseidon? That was what whoever sent the message called himself!”
Her eyes twinkled. “Naturally.”
“Doctor,” Aneirin said, “What is it that he had to do? To take the third voyage?”
She looked down at the page and read aloud to him.
“You must go forth, once more—to a land beyond the edge of the world. Carry your shaved oar upon your shoulder, until you come to a people who have never heard of the sea, whose food never tastes of salt, strangers to the ships with their red sails and long oars, that which makes her fly. Walk until one walks beside you, one who asks you, “stranger why do you carry with you that winnowing fan, from so far away.
There, plant it in the earth, and sacrifice fine beasts to the lord of the sea, and render up noble offerings to the deathless gods who rule the giant skies.”
Silence fell.
“It seems,” she said at last, “that you have much to think about, Aneirin. Do let me know if I can be of any more service to you.”