Part 3 (1/2)

'Then talk. There's no one else here but you and me.' She stood and drew the folds of her robe loosely across her chiton, before stepping forward so that her body was almost touching his. 'What is it you want to say, my prince?'

Paris sensed she was challenging him to touch her or step away, knowing that he wanted her but that at any moment someone could turn a corner and see them. But beneath her display of boldness beneath her confidence in her own s.e.xuality he detected a flutter of uncertainty caused by his own nearness, as if she was afraid she might fail the challenge herself.

'Not now,' he said, holding her gaze. 'Not here. I must speak with you in private, where there is no risk of being overheard.'

'You are asking much, Paris. Menelaus is a kind and loving husband, but his jealousy is ferocious. That is why you have not seen me since the first night you arrived here. The fact you have met me this morning is only by the slightest chance.'

'Or the work of the G.o.ds,' Paris added.

Helen smiled. 'Perhaps. But one can't always count on their intervention, so I sent my maid to your room last night.'

Paris's heart jumped.

'But I wasn't there; I couldn't sleep.'

'So she told me. She had a message for you.'

'What message?'

Helen reached up and ran her finger down the length of the scar that dissected his face.

'It seems we both want the same thing, Paris. It asked for you to meet me in the temple of Aphrodite at sunset tomorrow.'

Paris was suddenly overpowered by the need to kiss her, but as his hands closed about her waist she seemed to melt from his fingers and return to the shadows.

'Where is this temple?' he called after her as she ran down the pa.s.sage.

'You'll find it,' she called back, laughing.

And then she was gone.

Chapter Five.

STORM WARNING.

The Thessalians were buried in a small clearing not far from the track where they had been killed. Even with Polites's immense and tireless strength, it still took the Ithacans until noon to dig a grave wide and deep enough to lay the bodies in, with their s.h.i.+elds and weapons beside them. Normally, any captured armament would have been taken back to stock the palace armoury, but as an act of respect and conciliation to Polites, Odysseus had allowed the men to be buried with full honour. Finally, they built a mound of large rocks to mark the grave and, leaving Polites to say farewell to his comrades, returned to the track. A great cry erupted from the clearing behind them halfway between despair and triumph as if Polites was calling on the G.o.ds themselves to come and claim the fallen.

Later, as the Ithacans made their way back to their camp at the edge of the wood, Eperitus watched the hulking figure of the Thessalian ahead of him, walking beside Arceisius. The young squire was chatting merrily, telling the giant warrior all about Ithaca, its people and their customs, whilst Polites walked in silence, with only an occasional grunt in response to show he was listening at all.

'Today has been a good day,' Odysseus said as he walked beside Eperitus at the back of the file of men. 'The bandits are all dead with no Ithacans hurt, and we've gained two new soldiers into the bargain.'

'Two?' asked Antiphus, who was strolling along at Odysseus's other shoulder, his bow strapped across his back.

'Polites and Arceisius. The lad fought well today, don't you think, Eperitus?'

'He's got the natural instincts of a fighter,' Eperitus confirmed, smiling with paternal pride. Arceisius's father had been killed during the Taphian occupation of Ithaca ten years before, and since then Eperitus had looked after him as if he were his own son. 'It won't be long now before he can become a full member of the guard.'

'What's stopping him?' Antiphus asked. 'You're not going to make him wait until he gets rid of those feathers round his chin and grows a proper beard are you?'

Odysseus and Antiphus laughed loudly, making Arceisius throw a questioning glance over his shoulder.

'Of course not,' Eperitus replied, shooting his companions an admonis.h.i.+ng glance. 'I just think he needs a little longer, that's all.'

Eperitus thought of the look in Arceisius's eye after he had killed his man a glimmer of doubt or regret and wondered whether he truly desired to be a warrior. Time would tell, he a.s.sured himself.

'Well, there's no hurry it's not as if we're at war,' Odysseus said, still grinning. 'But what do you think of the Thessalian? Will he be true to the oath he swore?'

'I think you took a risk with him, my lord,' Antiphus answered. 'But your instincts have always proved good, and I trust them now. You were the one who had to fight him though, Eperitus. What do you say?'

Eperitus remembered the awful power in Polites's arms and the iron-like strength of his grasping fingers, and gave a shudder. 'He's slow and he can't think on his feet,' he announced. 'He relies entirely on his strength, and that's a weakness. But, in the name of Ares, he's got enough muscle for three men and he's aggressive with it he'll kill most men with ease, and enjoy it. As for his oath, Odysseus, I think he's got just enough intelligence to understand honour, but not enough for treachery. He should serve us well.'

'A good a.s.sessment,' said a voice from the side of the road.

All three men turned sharply to their left and drew their swords. At the same time, Arceisius whirled about and pulled a dagger from his belt, whilst Polites squinted stupidly into the shadows beneath the trees. There, sitting on a large boulder, was an ancient-looking man with a long beard and a shabby brown cloak, which was pulled about his knees. Despite his deeply lined, leathery skin and his silver hair, his large, round eyes were full of vigour and observed them keenly.

'Good morning to you, father,' Odysseus greeted him, sliding his sword back into its scabbard. 'You caught us by surprise just then. Is there anything we can do for you?'

The old man stared at the king, a faint smile just visible beneath the wispy strands of his moustache, but did not reply. Eperitus called to the rest of the file to halt then, replacing his sword, stepped forward and looked at the curious figure seated before them.

'Answer your king when he addresses you,' he ordered, trying to keep the anger from his voice.

'Forgive my friend,' Odysseus apologized. 'He doesn't realize you're not from these islands. You aren't an Ithacan, are you, or I'm sure I'd know your face?'

'I'm a visitor here,' the old man admitted, 'though I know these islands well. And I know you, too, King Odysseus.'

'Then tell us who you are, greybeard,' Eperitus insisted. His subtle senses detected something strange about the old man that set his instincts on edge.

The old man chuckled to himself. 'The years haven't calmed your impetuosity I see, Eperitus,' he said, shaking his head slowly.

Eperitus shot a glance at Odysseus, who returned his shocked expression with a shrug of his shoulders. Behind them, the a.s.sembled soldiers who had come to see why the march back to camp had been halted murmured to each other in confusion. Then the old man leapt lightly down from the boulder and swept his hand in an arc before them. At once, everyone except Odysseus and Eperitus fell unconscious to the floor.

The two men sprang back and pulled out their swords again, staring about at their sleeping comrades and then at the figure before them. He was as tall and straight as an ash spear, and his eyes burned intensely as he stared at them. Though his brown cloak was still held tightly about his body, it glowed as if a brilliant light was fighting to escape from beneath it.

'Don't be afraid,' he said, but as he spoke his voice was strangely changed deeper and yet unmistakably female.

Odysseus threw down his weapon and fell to his knees, covering his face against the fingers of white light that were escaping from the folds of the cloak. Eperitus confused and half-blinded clutched the handle of his sword tighter and squinted against the light, readying himself for an attack. The figure of the old man was now almost completely lost in the blaze of light that was coming from his body. The features of his face were no longer discernible, and even as Eperitus tried to look at him he seemed to grow in height. Then a strong wind swept through the trees, shaking the branches and flattening the young ferns, tearing open the man's cloak so that it disintegrated into a hundred fragments and was blown away in an explosion of intense light. Eperitus staggered backwards, his vision an impenetrable wall of searing white, and fell over the sleeping body of Antiphus.

He lay on his back, his eyelids closed but his retinas still filled with the light. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the brightness faded and the comparatively dull radiance of day returned. Eperitus opened his eyes and saw branches overhead, creeping like black veins into the corners of his vision. Still fearful of an attack, and feeling dreadfully exposed with his senses stunned and reeling, he strained his ears against the diminis.h.i.+ng wind. Twigs crunched nearby under a heavy weight, then a hand seized his ankle.

'Eperitus! Eperitus, wake up!' Odysseus said, shaking his leg.

'I'm awake,' Eperitus replied, sitting up and blinking at the king, who was on his hands and knees before him.

'Stop lying around like a pair of drunkards and start showing some respect!' said a voice. The tone was clear, commanding and familiar to both men.