The Trojan War was over, and Troy lay in ruins.

Odysseus, also called Ulysses — the cleverest hero of Greece, the one who thought up the Trojan Horse — was ready to go home. Home was Ithaca, a small island where his wife Penelope and his son Telemachus, whom he had left as a baby, were waiting.

The voyage should have taken a few weeks, a few months at most. Odysseus did not know it would take ten years, nor that it would become the most dangerous adventure ever told.

Odysseus commanded twelve ships full of companions, warriors who had fought beside him at Troy.

Their first stop was the land of the Cicones. But instead of merely taking on supplies, Odysseus let his men plunder the city. It was a terrible mistake. The Cicones of the neighboring towns banded together, struck back, and killed many of the companions. Odysseus fled with the ships, but he had already lost men — and the needless cruelty stirred the anger of the gods.

Soon afterward, a storm struck the fleet and swept it far off course, toward unknown lands.

After nine days at sea, they reached a lovely island. Bright flowers covered the beach, and the air was sweet. Odysseus sent a few men to explore, and they found the Lotus Eaters — a gentle people who lived on the flowers of the island.

"Taste them," the Lotus Eaters offered. "They are delicious."

Odysseus's men ate the flowers. And in that very instant, they forgot everything. They forgot their homes, their families, their mission. All they wanted was to stay there, eating flowers forever, and they said, dreamily, that they would never go back to the ship.

When Odysseus went looking for them and saw what had happened, he was horrified. He ordered them carried back by force. The men wept and struggled and begged to stay. Odysseus tied them to the rowing benches until the spell of the flowers wore off, and the fleet sailed quickly away from that sweet trap.

They sailed on, until they sighted an island of high mountains and great caves. A sailor spotted sheep grazing: there would be meat and cheese there. Odysseus took one ship with twelve men to explore, leaving the others safe at a nearby island.

They found a gigantic cave, full of sheep and goats, with huge cheeses and pails of milk. The men wanted to take what they could and leave at once. But Odysseus, curious, wanted to stay.

"No. I want to meet whoever lives here. Perhaps he will welcome us with the gifts of hospitality, as the gods command."

It was his second great mistake.

While they were exploring the cave, they heard heavy footsteps, closer and closer, and a giant shadow covered the entrance.

It was a Cyclops — a giant with a single eye in the middle of his forehead. His name was Polyphemus, and he was a son of Poseidon, the god of the sea. He stood three times the height of a man, with arms like tree trunks and an eye the size of a plate.

Polyphemus came in with his flock of enormous sheep. Then he picked up an immense boulder and sealed the mouth of the cave — a stone so heavy that not even twenty men together could have moved it. And then the giant looked around and saw Odysseus and his men.

"Who are you?" roared Polyphemus. "What are you doing in my cave?"

Odysseus tried to be diplomatic.

"We are Greeks, sailing home from Troy. We ask for hospitality, as Zeus commands. The gods bless those who treat strangers well."

Polyphemus laughed, a terrible sound.

"Zeus? I do not fear Zeus. The Cyclopes owe nothing to the gods."

And then, without warning, he seized two of Odysseus's men and devoured them, before their companions frozen with horror. Then he lay down across the cave and slept, blocking the way out.

Odysseus thought of killing the Cyclops as he slept. But he saw the problem in time: if Polyphemus died, who would move the stone? They would all be trapped there until the end.

So Odysseus did what he did best: he made a plan.

At dawn, Polyphemus devoured two more men, rolled the stone aside, went out with his sheep, and sealed the cave again with the prisoners inside. Of Odysseus's twelve men, eight remained. While the giant was away, Odysseus found an enormous wooden stake, Polyphemus's walking staff. He had his men sharpen the point and harden it in the fire, and hid the weapon beneath the sheep dung.

At night, Polyphemus returned and ate two more men. Only Odysseus and five companions were left.

Then Odysseus approached the giant with a cup of strong wine they had brought from the ship.

"Cyclops, you have eaten my friends. But taste this wine. It is the finest in Greece."

Polyphemus tasted it. He had never drunk wine before, and he asked for more, and more, until he had drained the whole skin. His tongue heavy, he asked the name of that generous little man.

"My name," said Odysseus, cleverly, "is Nobody."

"Nobody... what a funny name. Well then, Nobody: since you gave me wine, I will be kind. I will eat you last. That is my gift of hospitality."

And Polyphemus fell into a deep drunken sleep.

It was time. Odysseus and his men took the sharpened stake and heated its point in the fire until it glowed. Then, all together, they charged and drove it into Polyphemus's single eye.

The giant woke with a bellow that shook the mountain.

"My eye! Help, brothers, help!"

The other Cyclopes, who lived in the caves nearby, came running and shouted from outside, asking who was attacking him.

"Nobody has blinded me! Nobody is killing me."

"Well, if nobody is attacking you," the Cyclopes answered, puzzled, "then it is a sickness sent by the gods. Pray to your father Poseidon."

And they went away.

Polyphemus, blind and furious, groped about the cave trying to catch the men, but he could not find them.

At dawn, the sheep began to bleat, wanting to go out to pasture. Polyphemus rolled the stone away, but sat in the entrance, feeling the back of every sheep that passed, determined to let no man escape.

Odysseus, though, had one more idea. He tied each companion beneath the belly of a great sheep, and he himself clung to the fleece of the largest ram. As the animals filed out, Polyphemus felt only their backs. He never thought to feel their bellies.

And so Odysseus and his men escaped.

They ran for the ship and rowed hard away from the island.

But then Odysseus made his third mistake — the worst of all. Proud of his victory, he could not resist, and he shouted back toward the shore:

"Cyclops! If anyone asks who blinded you, tell them it was Odysseus of Ithaca."

His men begged him to be quiet, but it was too late. Polyphemus lifted his blind face to the sky and cried out:

"Father Poseidon, god of the sea, avenge me! May Odysseus never reach his home. Or, if the gods will that he reach it, may he come late and alone, without a single companion, on a stranger's ship, and find sorrow waiting for him."

It was a terrible curse. And Poseidon heard it.

Odysseus and the survivors reached the other ships. Of that party of twelve men, only six returned, counting Odysseus himself. And now they had Poseidon, lord of all the seas, for an enemy.

Polyphemus's curse promised that the road would not be easy. Nine years still lay ahead, with more monsters, more angry gods, more dangers. But Odysseus was clever and steadfast, and nothing would make him give up on returning to Ithaca, to Penelope and Telemachus.

Even if it took ten years.