Part 29 (1/2)

'They'll not come here,' Helen said, trying to sound a.s.sured of the fact. 'If you lived in Greece as you say, you'll know that no king would dare send an army abroad and leave his home unprotected. Not with so many old grudges and scores to settle among the different states. If he did, he'd return home to find his kingdom lost and his family murdered.'

'You shouldn't overlook the power of your own beauty, Helen,' Apheidas responded. 'With a prize like you at stake, I'm only surprised they've not arrived already.'

She gave the Trojan captain a haughty look. 'And if the war comes you'll blame me for it, no doubt.'

'Blame you? Not at all I'll be thanking you. Nothing would give me more pleasure than to kill Greeks and send them fleeing back to their rotten little country with their noses bloodied.'

Helen's large eyes narrowed angrily. 'And what about all the Trojans who will die? What of the widows and the orphans they will leave behind? Or do you think this phantom army of Greeks will just blow away like dandelion seeds in the wind? But I suppose you don't have as much to lose as the rest of your countrymen, do you, Apheidas? You've no concept of what it means to lose your children.'

'Oh, but you're wrong there, my dear,' Apheidas said, arching his eyebrows and smiling. He turned and leaned on the wall, looking out towards the faint blue humps of Tenedos in the distance. 'I had three lads, all of them killed in battle.'

Helen took a step towards him, shocked by the revelation.

'But that's terrible!'

'Even more terrible because I drove them to it,' Apheidas added, staring into her perfect face. 'When a man reaches my age, Helen, he can look back over his life, consider his mistakes and regret them. And I wish to Zeus I hadn't encouraged their fighting spirit especially the youngest one but I did and now I must live with that.'

Helen looked at the tall, dark-haired warrior with his reputation for ruthlessness and aggression, and for a fleeting moment saw the remorse and sorrow that weighed heavily on his shoulders. He seemed to lean against the crenellated battlements for support, and his eyes were old and tired. Then he drew himself up to his full height again and the image was gone. He was Apheidas once more: stern and authoritative; a captain feared by his men and his superiors alike.

'The Greeks will come, Helen,' he told her. 'Don't deceive yourself about that. And don't believe Paris if he says he will not fight again. He's hinted as much to the rest of us, but when war threatens he'll be out there in the front rank alongside myself and Hector.'

'He promised me,' Helen said defiantly. 'On Tenedos.'

'When he was next to you in bed, no doubt,' Apheidas laughed as he turned to continue his inspection. 'But I know him better than you do. You've come here expecting to find love and freedom, Helen, but the reality will be war and death. Enjoy your wedding night.'

The Greek fleet lifted its anchor stones before the first light of dawn crept into the sky. The sprawling camp that had dominated the landscape for weeks was gone, leaving behind a vast swathe of crushed yellow gra.s.s sprinkled with broken pottery, animal bones and other waste of no further use. The thousands of warriors who had occupied it now manned the oars that sent twelve hundred s.h.i.+ps gliding slowly towards the freedom of the open seas. For a while the only sounds were the gentle creaking of leather and the swish of oars, punctuated by occasional shouts of command. Then, from a bank of dark cloud that lingered over the mainland like a bad memory of the storm just gone, a single fork of lightning seared down to strike the distant mountaintops. A deep rumble of thunder followed, and for an awful moment the Greeks feared the storm was returning. But when there were no more flashes of lightning, one by one the s.h.i.+ps' crews began to cheer, until the whole strait was filled with the echo of their voices. Every man knew that lightning striking to the right was a good omen from Zeus. The king of the G.o.ds had spoken, and told them they were sailing to victory.

As each galley pa.s.sed through the narrow bottleneck between Euboea and the mainland, into the wide triangle of water beyond, the cheering fell away and was replaced by a flurry of activity as sails were unfurled and rigging adjusted to catch the strong westerly breeze. From there the s.h.i.+ps rounded the southern tip of Euboea and headed directly east.

In debating the best route, many of the Greek leaders had advised following the southerly line of the Cyclades to the coast of Asia, then heading north to Ilium the same way by which Odysseus's s.h.i.+p had returned from Troy. Though it would be slow, the many bays and coves along the way would provide shelter for the fragile galleys if the weather turned rough. Agamemnon, however, had decided they should head directly east to Chios, then turn north to Lesbos and on to Tenedos, where the fleet would rea.s.semble before the attack. It was a more dangerous route but it was quicker by several days, and Agamemnon was desperate not to waste any more time in reaching Troy.

Another problem was the cohesion of the vast fleet. From the moment they left the Euboean Straits, pa.s.sing one by one into the Aegean, they would become strung out. Rather than a broad armada, they would inevitably stretch out into a long line where the difference between the first and the last s.h.i.+p could be a matter of days. Antic.i.p.ating the possibility that some s.h.i.+ps, or even whole divisions, could get lost as they navigated the unfamiliar seas between Greece and Ilium, Agamemnon had made certain that the chief pilots of each nation were well versed in the correct route. But he was more concerned that a sizeable portion of the fleet should be ready to attack Troy as quickly as possible, and offered prizes to the first four kings to bring their s.h.i.+ps to Tenedos. The winner would receive three large, newly made cauldrons with their bronze tripods, as well as a dozen talents of copper; to the second would be given a pair of unbroken five-year-old mares; the third would have a single large cauldron with its tripod and five talents of copper; the fourth-placed king would receive a small, two-handled bowl made of gold traced with skilful designs. And, of course, there would be the glory of victory.

Agamemnon's ploy worked. The natural compet.i.tiveness of the Greeks had been ignited and every morning the s.h.i.+ps' crews would rise early, ready to sail as soon as there was light enough to see by. Then they would forge across the white-tipped waves of the Aegean in a series of individual races. Like charioteers with teams of horses, each king drove his s.h.i.+ps to gain on the king before him and shake off the one behind, taking perilous chances as the fleets pa.s.sed through each other in order to gain the edge that might lead to victory. Eventually, after several days, the forerunners pa.s.sed Lesbos and picked up the line of the Asian seaboard, with the low, humped form of Tenedos on the horizon ahead of them.

Achilles's l.u.s.t for glory had pushed his fifty s.h.i.+ps into a narrow lead ahead of the nine s.h.i.+ps of the Malians, under Philoctetes; behind them were the dozen vessels from Ithaca. No other s.h.i.+ps were yet in sight, but as the skilled sailors under Odysseus's command began to gain on the leaders, the king gave instructions for a slackening of speed.

'But we can catch them,' Eurybates protested from the nearest bench. 'Achilles's s.h.i.+ps are getting in each others' way, and hindering Philoctetes too. We can slip past them on their seaward side and be the first to arrive.'

'But I don't want to be the first to Tenedos,' Odysseus replied as he held on to the twin rudders and watched the fierce race between Achilles and Philoctetes. Those within earshot turned to look at him in astonishment.

'What about the prize?' asked Eperitus. 'You can't just give up on a dozen talents of copper and three cauldrons, and we'll have shown everyone we're the best sailors in Greece.'

There were murmurs of agreement from the benches, but Odysseus held up his hand for silence. 'Prizes and glory are one thing,' he said, 'but they're no good if we're not alive to enjoy them. Don't forget Tenedos is a va.s.sal state of Troy and the first to arrive will probably be greeted with a shower of arrows or worse. And I wouldn't want to steal Achilles's laurels, either. Philoctetes can be the first to Tenedos if he wants, but if he incurs the wrath of Achilles then he'll only have himself to blame.'

The benches fell silent again as the sailors looked beyond the white-capped waves to the jumble of sails that marked the battle between Achilles and Philoctetes. They knew they could overhaul the mingled s.h.i.+ps ahead of them, and despite the wisdom of Odysseus's words they could not help but feel disappointed.

'I don't see why we should hang back,' said Eurybates, crouching beside Eperitus and looking up at the wind filling the sail. 'If there's a battle waiting for us on Tenedos, we should be the first into the fight. The sooner we start the killing, the fewer of those Trojan vermin there'll be in the world.'

Eperitus grunted and turned to watch the race between Achilles and Philoctetes, in which the Malians were already beginning to squeeze through the widely spread ranks of the Myrmidons. Tenedos was soon close enough for the individual trees and buildings to be seen on its steep green sides. They were heading for the western edge of the island where the fleet was to rea.s.semble out of sight of the mainland, but whereas on his previous journey past the eastern flanks there had been nothing more than a few farms and vineyards, now Eperitus could see a wide, natural harbour opening before them. A handful of colourful fis.h.i.+ng boats were pulled up on the crescent-shaped beach, while part-way up the hillside was a collection of stone dwellings gathered around a single-storey palace. The small town was reached by a ramp that wound its way up the steep cliff face from the harbour.

All around him now the Ithacans were standing on the benches or leaning perilously far over the sides of the galley, cheering loudly as the race between the s.h.i.+ps of Achilles and Philoctetes rushed to its climax beneath the cliffs of Tenedos. Clearly, the Malian archer did not have Odysseus's foresight: by a miracle of seamans.h.i.+p his galleys had driven through the Myrmidons to gain a clear lead. Only Achilles's own s.h.i.+p lay ahead of Philoctetes now, as the two men vied to be the first to reach the rapidly approaching harbour. Then they were lost from sight behind the ma.s.s of pursuing craft and it was impossible to tell who had won the race.

The cheers died away and the Ithacans returned to their places, where they debated noisily about whether Achilles or Philoctetes had gained the victory. Before long, though, they were under the shadow of the island and approaching the lines of Malian and Myrmidon s.h.i.+ps in the mouth of the harbour. Most had already lowered their sails and dropped their anchor stones overboard, and their grinning crews met the Ithacan latecomers with a mixed chorus of cheers and heckling. Odysseus signalled to the others to throw out their anchor stones, then steered his own vessel through the ma.s.s of wars.h.i.+ps towards the harbour.

A score of galleys were already crammed into the modest bay, where their crews were being ferried in small boats to the sh.o.r.e. The s.h.i.+ps of Achilles and Philoctetes, though, had ploughed straight into the pebbled beach in their headlong dash to claim victory. Their tall prows were stuck fast between great banks of s.h.i.+ngle and the deck of Philoctetes's s.h.i.+p was covered in a ma.s.s of canvas and rigging, where the impact of hitting the beach had snapped the top half of the mast. The crews had spilled out on the beach and were arguing vociferously with each other, their voices a great babble as the Ithacan galley approached.

Odysseus ordered the sail to be furled and the anchor stones to be tossed overboard.

'And ready the boat,' he added as he spotted Achilles and Philoctetes at the centre of the crowd of warriors. 'Eperitus fetch Antiphus and Polites and come with me. We'd better go and sort this argument out before they come to blows.'

As they reached the sh.o.r.e, Achilles was scowling fiercely and poking Philoctetes's chest with his forefinger. Patroclus stood behind his companion with his habitual sneer on his face, his hand gripping the pommel of his sheathed sword. Showing no sign of intimidation, Philoctetes stood with his legs planted firmly apart in the s.h.i.+ngle and his fists thrust on his hips. The bow of Heracles was slung across his back and a quiver was at his side, but he made no sign of reaching for them.

'Concede!' Achilles demanded. 'My galley was the first to hit the beach. There's no doubt about it.'

'Not from where I was standing,' Philoctetes replied. 'Besides, you can't deny I was the first to jump onto the s.h.i.+ngle. My feet touched Tenedos before yours did.'

'Nonsense!' Achilles shouted, giving the Malian prince a hard push on the shoulder. 'I was the first out. You were still in the prow of your s.h.i.+p when . . .'

Mnemon, who had been standing behind Patroclus and looking nervously about at the towering cliffs, now reached across and tapped his master's arm. 'Sir,' he said, wracked with anxiety. 'Sir, I must tell you something.'

'd.a.m.n it, Mnemon!' Achilles snapped. 'Can't you see I'm talking?'

'Is there anything I can help with?' Odysseus asked, walking up the s.h.i.+ngle towards the crowd of men.

'Yes! You can tell this fool that I won the race fairly and that the first prize goes to me and my Malians,' Philoctetes said, crossing his arms and glaring at Achilles.

On seeing Odysseus, Achilles immediately walked forward and took his hand. 'Thank the G.o.ds you're here, Odysseus. We need a man of intelligence to make this idiot understand the difference between winning and coming second.'

'My lord!' Mnemon interjected again. 'Please, I must tell you something.'

'By all the G.o.ds on Olympus,' Achilles barked. 'What is it, man?'

But Mnemon did not get the opportunity to speak. Suddenly there was a shout from the top of the cliff followed a moment later by a shower of arrows and stones. Men screamed out as bronze-tipped shafts tore into their flesh, killing several instantly while others crumpled silently into the s.h.i.+ngle, felled by falling rocks. Mnemon was one of these: he was struck on the forehead and slumped to the floor unconscious.

The Greeks stared around themselves in shock, then all looked up as a booming voice shouted down to them in a language none of them understood. A huge, bearded man stood on the cliff top, surrounded by a collection of archers and spearmen, many of whom wore leather helmets and carried rectangular s.h.i.+elds made of oxhide. His bare chest was broad and covered in black hair, and above his head held easily by his thickly muscled arms was a boulder the size of a young heifer. With a final challenge on his lips, he hurled the stone down towards the startled soldiers below, crus.h.i.+ng three of them instantly.

Pandemonium ensued. Soldiers scattered in every direction, looking for cover on the empty beach from the downpour of arrows. More men fell screaming; those that did not die instantly clawed at the s.h.i.+ngle in a desperate effort to drag themselves away; some pulled the bodies of dead comrades on top of themselves to act as s.h.i.+elds. Only Achilles and Patroclus remained where they stood, contemptuous of the danger all about them. Then, as arrows smacked into the pebbles at their feet, the prince drew the sword from his belt and held it above his head. Turning to the men about him, he gave a deafening cry of defiance that rang back from the cliff face and echoed across the harbour.

'Come on!' he shouted, and with a look of terrifying anger and joy in his eyes he sprang across the dead and mangled bodies of his comrades and ran to the foot of the ramp.

In an instant, the fear and panic that had infected the Myrmidons disappeared. As one, they drew the swords from their scabbards and the air was filled with the sound of sc.r.a.ping metal. Then, with Patroclus at their head, they sprinted after their leader. An enthusiastic roar rose from their throats as they charged up the ramp that had been cut out of the cliff face, heedless of the new waves of arrows and stones that poured death on them from above.

'Zeus's beard,' said Odysseus, crouching down beside his comrades. 'What are we waiting for?'

He tugged his sword from its scabbard and dashed forward, followed by Eperitus, Antiphus and the giant figure of Polites. As they crossed the beach, quickly joined by Philoctetes and his Malians, a great shadow pa.s.sed over them. They turned briefly to see a second gigantic boulder come spinning down from the cliff top to land on the prow of Philoctetes's s.h.i.+p with a loud crash of splintering wood.