Oracle's War

  ‘Is Diomedes all right?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Bria admits. ‘He was pretty morose when he came back from the Springs that second time. But when I sought him out to talk with him afterwards, he didn’t want to discuss it.’

  ‘I asked him to kill Manto. And he failed.’

  Bria pulls a face. ‘So did you.’

  I curse under my breath – my own failure still rankles. ‘And he was forced to side with Alcmaeon. What’s that evil prick up to now?’

  ‘In a right royal fury, since Doripanes prised Manto off him.’

  ‘Now, that’s good news.’ I lean forward.

  ‘Hardly.’ Bria scowls. ‘She seduced the bastard, had him eating out of her hand. Then Doripanes forced Alcmaeon to surrender her – he threatened an eternity burning in Tartarus unless Alcmaeon complied.’

  ‘That was my idea. I managed to find Doripanes before we left camp and suggested it.’

  ‘Good try. But not good enough. He marched her to Pytho so she could be executed, but now the Pythia refuses to have her put down. Manto’s virtually a guest in Pytho, “advising” the Pythia on oracular matters.’

  ‘What?’ I reel back in shock. ‘That’s utter madness! They’ve already been duped by Tiresias. How could they possibly clutch a second snake to their bosoms?’

  ‘They specialise in snakes, don’t forget,’ says Bria drily. ‘What do you expect from a place that worships a python? Oh, and she’s pregnant to Alcmaeon. She says it’s a boy, and that she’ll call him Amphilochus.’

  I roll my eyes at the ceiling. ‘She’s going to name him after Alcmaeon’s brother?’

  ‘Well, it is a family name,’ Bria drawls. ‘Though the brother seemed just as taken with her as Alcmaeon, if you know what I mean.’ She takes another swig of my wine while I mull that one over.

  ‘And Eriphyle?’ I ask, after a pause. ‘What of the necklace and the robe?’

  Bria shrugs. ‘The old bitch seems to be back to her usual tricks, running the place behind the scenes, though it’s not such plain sailing, with the Epigoni swelled up with triumphant pride and Alcmaeon brooding over his thwarted lust for Manto.’

  I get the feeling we haven’t heard the last of them all. ‘And Adrastus?’ I ask, with genuine concern.

  ‘Broken-hearted, since the death of Aegialaus. I think he hoped he’d meet his own death in that battle – it would have been kinder, quicker. As it is, I don’t think he’s got long to go.’

  ‘Did we gain anything?’

  She gives me a leery look. ‘Don’t give me that, Ithaca! Of course we did! Tiresias is dead, Thebes has fallen, the Trojans have lost their one ally in Achaea, and we now know that the prophecies that spoke of Theban invulnerability were lies. That’s damned good work.’

  I think about what the dying Tiresias told me: that the Trojans see me as someone they can win over. Never, I tell myself. But remembering that one heavenly afternoon in Kyshanda’s arms and how much I’d give to see her again, I wonder if it is fated, despite my loyalties to Achaea.

  And that leads me back to Tiresias’s revelation about prophecies. It’s been nagging away at me, because I believe him: it’s a truth I can cling to, because I don’t want to believe in fate, especially as everyone seems to see me as someone that the Moirae, Goddesses of Fate, have their claws in.

  ‘I think you owe me some truth,’ I tell Bria. ‘A while ago, you hinted that prophecies “can be worked against”. Now, if the future is fated, that makes no sense – what will be, will be. I know we’ve seen that prophecies can be misread and that false prophecies can be presented as the truth – lies like those Tiresias managed to blind Pytho and everyone else with. But until now you and Athena have only ever told me that spirits can “travel outside time and see the future”, and therefore that prophecies are facts. But that’s not so, is it?’

  Bria gives me a bright, interested smile, the adult expression sitting oddly on the face of the girl Hebea. ‘Bravo, Ithaca. Now, I could fob you off and say I “misspoke”, or that “opposing a prophecy” is possible but pointless. But I get the feeling you’ve been talking to certain other people too, haven’t you…?’

  I pull a ‘maybe’ face, looking at her expectantly.

  She considers, then says, ‘I suppose you’ve earned the chance to delve deeper into the murky world of gods, oracles and prophecy. So perhaps I’ll indulge you.’

  ‘Then what’s the truth?’

  She grins. ‘The truth is that all prophecies are lies.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, a better way of putting it might be to say that all prophecies are the best guess of the spirits of that shrine, at that point in time,’ she says.

  So Tiresias did tell me the truth.

  ‘The spirits see a vast amount and draw many inferences,’ she continues, ‘but they don’t know what will happen, and even if they did, they can’t predict random events. So the best oracles can still get things wrong… and long-held truths, like the infallibility of Thebes or the inevitable victory of Troy… they might not eventuate.’

  ‘But what about all that “stepping out of time”…?’

  ‘Utter hog swill,’ she answers blithely. ‘The sort of bullshit we feed idiots to keep them in line.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I reply, with the sweetest sarcasm I can muster. ‘But that’s wonderful…’

  More than wonderful – it’s the confirmation I needed. I’m not fated to betray my land…

  ‘Don’t tell anyone,’ Bria warns. ‘If kings and warlords knew, they’d be a lot less easy for the oracular shrines to manipulate, and therefore harder for the gods to control. This is not a secret that gets bandied about. Even most theioi don’t know. Theseus never worked it out, and I doubt Diomedes ever will either. But you’re a little smarter than them.’

  ‘Only a little?’ I retort archly. ‘So, does Athena know you’re telling me?’

  ‘No, Ithaca. Athena doesn’t know I’m telling you, but she trusts me, and she is the Goddess of Wisdom.’ She titters softly, leaning forward. ‘So, what happened at the Springs of Cithairon, that second time? What did that old queen Tiresias have to say?’

  That the Trojans think I’m going to join them? That Kyshanda might have seduced me to enhance that prospect? That Hekuba of Troy knows who I am, and that if she deems that I’ll never join them, she’ll order my assassination?

  ‘Nothing we didn’t know,’ I say, because I don’t trust anyone with what Tiresias told me. ‘He came to Ithaca to prevent Eumaeus from being installed as the rightful king of Syros.’

  ‘And the Man of Fire? Did he have no interest in him?’

  ‘He was curious, but no more.’

  She seems to believe me. ‘Syros may look like a trivial matter, but that’s meddlers for you: they can’t help meddling.’ She straightens. ‘Keep those soldiers of yours drilled, Ithaca. Athena likes what she’s heard of your deeds at Glisas, and there’s another war coming, next spring. Agamemnon can feel the Trojan shadow growing, and he knows he’s going to have to unify Achaea if it’s to survive. That’ll mean dealing not only with Tantalus, but the Sons of Heracles and their ilk.’

  A few heartbeats later she’s gone, and the maid Hebea is staring at the wine cup in her hand, almost spilling it as she realizes she’s not where she thought she was. Then she sees me and gives a small shriek. ‘Prince Odysseus, I’m so sorry, I didn’t… I… um…’ she flounders helplessly.

  What it must be like for her – to have a daemon that takes her over without warning – I can’t think. Sometimes Bria keeps her aware of what happens when she inhabits the girl’s body, but today is obviously not one of those occasions ‘It’s all right, Hebea,’ I reassure her. ‘She’s gone, and you’ve earned a sip of wine.’

  We share a look of understanding over our secret, then she hurries away. I gaze out the window, wondering where Kyshanda might be at this moment – and whether she loves me, or if it was all an act.

  Unwilling to pick at that scab, I think
instead of Penelope-Arnacia, that slim, self-possessed girl to whom I also owe my life. Is she safe on Delos?

  The Trojan menace has not passed – those bastards are as ambitious as ever. Defeating Thebes has only postponed the problem, not resolved it. The Order of the Sphinx are still labouring to fulfil Zeus’s ambitions to be the preeminent god of a new empire, united in worship of him. On Delos they still preach that Leto is Zeus’s true love, and her children are his favoured offspring. Achaea is divided and weak, and our enemies are gathering. The world’s a big, dangerous and uncertain place, and now it seems we can’t even cling to the words of a prophet.

  Nothing is certain, the wind whispers. We build on sand.

  But as of now, Laertes and I have a tentative understanding, and he and my mother are talking again. My sister’s marriage is unhappy, but I’ve gifted her more of that powder I put in Lochus’s drink a month ago, and her infrequent, clandestine trysts with Maeus bring her some solace. And Ithaca, my beloved Ithaca, is at peace.

  That’s a good enough reason to raise a toast to the setting sun.

  Acknowledgements

  Cath: My co-writer, David Hair is the best team mate I could wish for. His openness and creative excitement about our “Olympus” books make working with him a real joy. It’s a classic case of two and two making six or nine or whatever figure comes out of the magician’s hat as we brainstorm our way through!

  Our agents Heather Adams and Mike Bryant are a constant support and we have the luxury of a wonderful team at Canelo – it’s brilliant to be working with people who really believe in what we’re doing. Many, many thanks to our Beta readers, Heather, Kerry, Paul and Lisa – those fresh eyes pick up so much. I’m also hugely grateful to my local writing community over the years, from the mentors who went out of their way to encourage and challenge me to all my writing pals, who share all our insights, congratulations and commiserations in equal parts.

  David: Thank you Canelo, for your support of this series; also to our beta readers Kerry, Heather, Paul and Lisa. Heather is also my agent, and it’s through her (alongside her husband Mike at HMA Literary Agency) that we got this gig – Cath and I can’t thank them enough. And of course, thank you, Cath; for agreeing to work with me on this project. All the stuff you’ve said above – back at you! It’s been great and we’ve still much more to do. Most of all though, thanks to my lovely wife Kerry, who puts up with having a husband who’s off inside his head all the time with astoundingly good grace, and pulls me back down to Earth with humour and love. You make me feel blessed.

  Glossary

  General terms, names and places

  Achaea, Achaean: The whole of Greece. While ‘Achaea’ is also a minor kingdom on the north coast of the Peloponnese, ‘Achaean’ is a common term in Homer’s Iliad for all Greeks, who were united by a common culture and whose mostly independent kingdoms owed allegiance to a high king. Hittite documents dating from around the time of the Trojan War refer to ‘Ahhiyawa’ as one of the great political powers they interacted with; ‘Ahhiyawa’ is now widely believed by scholars to be their word for ‘Achaea’.

  Adonis: A wildly handsome mortal lover of the Goddess Aphrodite.

  Avatar: A theios or theia who has the ability to allow their god to enter them and take over their body, so that the god, who is otherwise invisible to all but the theioi, can be seen. The god may appear in the form of the avatar, or in their own mythic form.

  Axeinos: The Ancient Greek name for the Black Sea. The literal translation of Axeinos is ‘inhospitable’.

  Catodon: A sperm whale, one of eight species of whale found in the Mediterranean. It is easily identified by its large, square head and the undulating fin-like ridge along its back. Its name derives from Greek kata (‘under’) and odon (‘tooth’), and describes the rows of serrated teeth on its long, narrow lower jaw. The teeth are used to eat fish and squid, the latter sometimes of massive proportions, but the whale has not been recorded attacking and eating humans.

  Cerberus: The monstrous hound that guards Erebus, allowing the dead souls in, while keeping the living out.

  Charon: The ferryman of Erebus, who transports souls across the river Styx to Erebus itself. In later, classical Greek times, he was paid with a coin, usually an obol, which was often placed in the mouth of the corpse.

  Chamber tomb: A tomb cut out of the rock with a long entrance tunnel, used for multiple burials.

  Cist tomb: A stone-lined grave for a single burial.

  Daemon: A spirit, without connotations of good or evil. The term can also refer to a lesser deity, but can also describe the more major gods.

  Drachma: A unit of currency. Before coins were introduced in the seventh century BC, a drachma was a ‘fistful’ of six bronze spits called obols. Later, both ‘drachma’ and ‘obol’ became names of coins.

  Dromas: A whore, specifically a street prostitute, from the Greek word for ‘racecourse’.

  Erinyes: Also known as the Furies, the Erinyes are vengeful deities of the Underworld, who are also able to pursue their victims up on earth. The singular form is Erinys.

  Erebus: The Underworld, where the souls of the departed go after death.

  Gynandros: Effeminate man, from Greek gyne: ‘woman’ and ‘andros’: ‘man’.

  Hamazan: Amazon; a member of one of the woman warrior cults in the nomadic (Scythian) tribes who lived by or near the Axeinos or Black Sea, at the outer edges of the Greek known world.

  Harpies: Part-bird, part-human female spirits associated with the storm winds. They are usually disgustingly ugly, with pale, hungry faces and long claws.

  Keryx: A herald serving a royal master, discharging important public functions such as making proclamations, undergoing missions, summoning assemblies and conducting ceremonies.

  Kopros: Dung, shit, dunghill. Koprologus: shit-gatherer.

  Kunopes: Bitch, shameless one, slut (from Greek kuon: a dog).

  Laertiades, Sisyphiades, Atreiades etc.: These are patronyms, the equivalent of our modern surnames, except that they always refer back to the father’s given name. They translate as ‘son of Laertes’, ‘son of Sisyphus’, ‘son of Atreus’ and so on. This form parallels Scandinavian and Scottish names like ‘Anderson’, which initially meant ‘son of Anders’.

  Lamia: A large shark; also a mythical sea monster.

  Magus: A sorcerer; a theios or theia with magical powers, who can bend reality.

  Manna: An edible resin or similar substance used in offerings to the gods, arguably identified as gum or solidified honeydew from the tamarisk tree.

  Megaron: The main hall of a palace or important stately house. It is either broadly rectangular or square shaped, with a large circular hearth in the middle surrounded by four pillars, and is often reached via a large vestibule and perhaps a porch opening onto a courtyard. A royal megaron will have its throne against one wall and will have brightly painted walls, ceiling and floor.

  Mycenaean, Mycenae: On a specific level, it refers to the kingdom, city and people of Mycenae, seat of the Achaean High King, in the north-eastern corner of the Peloponnese. The term is also used nowadays by archaeologists to describe the whole of Late Bronze Age Greece and its culture.

  Nymph, naiad, dryad: A female daemon associated with nature, presiding over various natural phenomena such as springs, clouds, trees, caves and fields.

  Obol: A unit of everyday currency. Originally an obol was a bronze skewer which was used as a form of exchange. A ‘fist’ of six obols was as many as a grown man could be expected to hold in one hand, and was called a drachma, after the Ancient Greek word ‘to grasp’. Later, obols and drachmas became coins.

  Olympians: The select group of powerful Greek gods who dwell on the mythic Mount Olympus. The physical Mount Olympus is in northern Greece.

  Oracle: A spirit or spirits with powers of prophecy, dwelling at an oracular site. Also sometimes used to describe the site itself.

  Phallos, (pl.) phalli: Penis, prick.

  Pornos
: Male prostitute.

  Priapus: Penis, prick.

  Proktos: Arsehole.

  Satyr: A male daemon, a nature spirit associated with fertility who consorts with nymphs, naiads and the like.

  Sea eagle: This is a species of large, black-headed gull, also known as Pallas’s gull, after Pallas Athena.

  Stele, (pl.) stelae: Upright slabs of stone, used to mark graves or boundaries.

  Styx: A river that guards the boundary between the upper, living world and the true Underworld of Erebus.

  Serpent’s Path: A prophetic process or ‘journey’ undertaken by an oracle, a person with oracular powers.

  Suagros: a pig-fucker.

  Theios, theia, theioi: A human who has some measure of divine blood; the Greek word translates literally as ‘god-touched’. They are born of a union between a god and a human, or of a union between their god-touched descendants. A man or boy is a theios, a woman or girl is a theia, and the plural form (which we have applied to both male and female, for simplicity’s sake) is theioi. A person’s theios nature is latent until it is awakened; this awakening can be carried out either by their ancestral god or by another god whose nature is in tune with that of the latent theios or theia, allowing gods to claim the descendants of other gods. In rare instances, a theios or theia can have affiliations with more than one god. Theioi, once awakened, can switch their allegiance to another god, but this is perilous, for it invokes the extreme anger of their original god and usually leads to their death. There are four types of theioi: seer, champion, avatar and magus. The seer has prophetic powers; the champion has superior physical strength and talent; the avatar can become the physical vessel of their god, who is otherwise invisible; and the magus is a sorcerer, with magical powers. Sometimes a theios or theia can be more than one type, though usually one aspect is dominant, and generally each aspect is weaker than it would be in a theios or theia who has only one attribute. In later generations, theios blood can become too diluted to give theios powers to new offspring. How long this takes depends on the power of the ancestral god, and on the mutual theios strength of the theios couple who produce the child.