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Gears of Troy 2

Page 3

by Daniel Pierce


  Helen gasped. I tried to suppress my surprise, never having heard the Queen speak like that before. Her grief brought out a side of her I had never seen.

  “I— yes, my queen,” I managed, unsure what else to say.

  “Have you never considered such things before, Troy?” Hecuba smirked, seeming to forget her grief for a moment. “I understand—few but those directly affected do think about it. It is a matter for queens, I think, that we should struggle to find real love that allows us to be kind. To the people we are entrusted with.”

  “And you found this love in King Priam?” Helen asked.

  Hecuba turned to Helen and closed both of her hands around one of the girl’s. “Yes, dear. It was almost immediate that I knew.” The Queen looked down, lost in thought for a moment. “Half of the men I knew with certainty what was on their minds, just by how their eyes were undressing me. All the others would reveal their intentions in conversations, sprinkling our interactions with lewd remarks, glancing to me from the corners of their eyes to see if I approved. I never did. But not Priam. He spoke of ideas, and plans, and how to help the people. After a while, I even tried to draw his attention to me. He had told some joke, and I laughed a little louder than the others, evening touching his hand for a moment. He noticed and winked at me, but that was all.” She threw her hands up with a bewildered look on her face, reliving the surprise she had clearly felt during her first encounter with the King.

  Hecuba leaned back and grabbed a goblet that was resting on the edge of the fountain. She took a sip, and the scent of wine wafted in my direction. I had not noticed the drink before then, and suddenly her rambling made a lot more sense. When she returned the cup to its place at the side of the pool, I could see that it was empty and wondered how many other cups full of wine had suffered the same fate by her grieving lips that day.

  “You may think it ironic, but his lack of attention drove me crazy. I was like a fish that had been pulled from its place in a small pond. I grew accustomed to my pond and even resented it over time, but once I was out, I felt lost. Nothing made sense anymore. Why was this man not behaving like all the others? Why was he not ‘madly in love’ with me?” She huffed. “So, I did what I had learned to do: I played my little game. After a while, I went to another group of horny men and was welcomed by their sleezy embraces. Some from the other circle followed me, but Priam was not among them. For once, I was the one making covert glances across the room. He seemed to be fitting in nicely with everyone else. He was charming, no doubt. It was not long before I found myself doing something I had never done before; I forced my presence on a man.” This time, her laughter was followed by a hiccup. “He treated me just as anyone else. That night, I knew I had to be with the man. If I could make him love me, I knew it would be real love. Is that not crazy? My way of testing him was to make sure that he was not overcome with sexual desire for me. I would have to earn his affection, and I wanted it more than anything else after that night. In our future engagements I became little more than one of the shameless dogs I had come to despise. What an unexpected turn of events!”

  She reached for her cup again, only to discover that it was empty. She banged it down several times against the stone of the fountain, and a servant promptly appeared to refill it.

  The Queen turned her attention back to us and shrugged. “You at least understand what I am trying to say now. I will not bore you with the rest of my drawn-out blabbering, at least not on this night. The King loves me, truly loves me. And I truly love him. Our relationship”—she began to weep again—“is something you cannot find among many royal houses. Most high-status marriages are passionless transactions, no more than a means of transferring power and land or cementing alliances. But now, as I see that my husband’s life may indeed be approaching its end, I lose myself to grief, and Ilium cannot have that.”

  I rubbed her back and said, “He’s still with us, right? You shouldn’t give up hope yet.”

  The Queen nodded. “You are correct, Troy. I only anticipate that things will take a turn for the worse. I suppose now I should actually tell you what happened.”

  She took a deep breath, and I said, “Yeah, just tell us what happened, and if there’s anything we can do about it, we will. I’m determined to see this through to the end, Your Highness.”

  “As am I,” Helen agreed.

  “Your words comfort me to hear,” Hecuba said. “I trust you two and know that you will do everything that is within your power to see that my husband will survive this sickness.” She took another deep breath and hunched forward, holding her cup between both hands, arms on her legs. “The ambassador from Hattusa—named Zidan—came, had dinner, bestowed gifts, showered us with praise, and left.” She shrugged. “The next morning, I found Priam asleep beside me, which was highly unusual for him. He always wakes before me. He lay there still, largely unresponsive, coughing up phlegm and too weak to move. That is it. This is all I know. Medicine does not seem to be helping. They tell me to give it time, but I have this nagging feeling that what our professionals are doing will not work.”

  “Do you think it has anything to do with the Hittites’ visit? The messenger said they wanted to talk about some kind of alliance?” I asked.

  “They did mention the alliance, yes, but they insisted we take time to think it over and said they would return in a month to discuss it in more detail. I thought they may have wanted to rally together to pursue the Greeks, but they were more concerned with having us help them in their disputes closer to home. There are several kingdoms bordering their empire that have become more than a minor nuisance as of late, and they think that simply having our banner on their side of the affair will discourage their enemies. Do I think my husband’s illness has anything to do with their visit? I have not the slightest idea. I do find it suspect that they would leave so abruptly and then the King would become ill the next day. Yes, that does raise an eyebrow, but I do not understand why they would do such a thing if they were trying to earn our favor.”

  For a second time, I thought of the story of the Trojan horse.

  “Can I see these gifts?” I asked.

  Hecuba ordered her servants to bring us the gifts. There was an array of many fine things—among them was tableware, clothing, jewelry, and ornamental blades. One thing in particular stood out to me above the rest, though I wasn’t sure why. It was by far not the most dazzling of all the prizes, being only a small bracelet with a silver chain, around which hung pieces of bone. One of these chunks of bone was carved into the shape of an ox, something I would have expected to see decorating the naked body of a Thirian rather than the fair, pampered skin of a person of nobility.

  Hecuba was saying something as I looked the items over, but her words faded to background noise as I analyzed the bracelet. It was in my hands before I consciously decided to pick it up, and in another unconscious motion it was around my wrist. There was a sudden sharp prick on my arm, as if I had been stung by a wasp, and my senses rushed back to me, making me all too aware of how distant I had been.

  “Is something the matter, Troy?” Helen asked, concern in her voice. “Can you hear me?”

  “I—uh, yeah.” I turned my attention to the stinging feeling and quickly realized that it was not a wasp, but the horns of the decorative ox that had pierced my flesh. I removed the thing as soon as I processed that information. “Something’s off with this bracelet.”

  “How do you mean?” the Queen asked, trying and failing to mask her eagerness.

  “It just poked me.” I shrugged. “I put it on and it just poked me without me doing anything to make it poke me. It was like it just latched on to me.”

  “How bizarre,” the Queen exclaimed.

  “Zinni can look into it, right?” I said. “This thing . . . it has some kind of power. I can just feel it. She might be able to learn more.”

  Zinni, or Polxyena as she was named at birth, was Priam’s youngest daughter. She was one of the many children Hecuba had prov
ided him over their long marriage, with at least three times as many stepchildren to call her own. Even in my year around their city, I’d only met about a fourth of their family, but the moment I met her, I was impressed by Zinni’s curiosity.

  The mysteries of the universe kept her awake at night, and her quest for knowledge led her to pursue a life of science and mysticism as she tried to find a way to make sense of it all. I knew if anyone in the kingdom could find something out about the bracelet, it would be her, and she would jump at the challenge.

  “Yes, I think it would be wise to ask the girl,” Hecuba said.

  “I could help, too,” said Helen. “You know I have a strong background in both technology and magic.”

  We thought it best to carry the bracelet in a metal box as we transported it to Zinni’s study, which was nothing more than a cluttered room in her own home. She lived on the edge of the wall, in a house bordered on both sides by the dwellings of other aristocrats. While many of her siblings chose to live in more esteemed places, both in the town and in other large cities under the kingdom’s rule, Zinni was perfectly happy to live a life of relative modesty, needing only her books and testing equipment to keep her happy. That being the case, she was surround by all manner of arcane equipment that I could not make heads or tails of. Every space that lacked the suffocating company of her glass and metal artifacts was covered in books, most of which were filled to capacity with content on topics of research I had never considered.

  “A bronze age nerd,” I said.

  “What is a nerd?” Helen asked.

  “Someone who—well, they like things. Intensely, and sometimes, those things are more academic in nature,” I answered.

  “Then I, too, am a nerd. But you are not,” Helen said with complete certainty.

  “I’m not?”

  “No. You like my breasts too much, and those are most certainly not academic,” she said, pushing her chest up with both hands. I smiled, kissed her, and then Zinni was upon us.

  She greeted Helen and I at the door, and ushered us inside. We explained the situation, and I was surprised to see that she had not yet heard the news about her father.

  “My studies keep me so busy,” she explained. “Entire days pass by where I do not leave the house. It is not uncommon for me to not see anyone for a week. This saddens me to hear, and I hope I can help Father. Let me see this bracelet.”

  She took the box into her study and removed the bracelet, holding it up to the light of a nearby window before placing it on the table and examining it under several different magnifying glasses. I did not think magnifying glasses had even been invented yet, but then I remembered I was living in a world of androids and Cyclops, so I decided it would do no harm to suspend my disbelief for this minor issue.

  “Hmm,” she said, bending closer to the object and poking it with a thin metal rod. “I will need to look into it in more detail over the coming days, but it does appear to have a magic power about it. You said it pricked you, Troy?”

  “That’s right. Up until then, it kind of drew me in, I think. So, please, be careful with it. There’s no telling what it can do. I half-expect to fall ill any second now,” I said with a nervous laugh.

  “I would be on the watch for any negative effects,” she said, not taking her eyes away from the object of her study. “Many enchantments are a one-off kind of thing. This bracelet may indeed have multiple enchantments on it—one to lure the victim, one to prick them, and one to transfer the curse that Father may be suffering from. I have no sudden urge to wear the bracelet now. Perhaps the magic of several enchantments was waning when you laid eyes on it, and maybe now it has been fully spent, but sorcery is often a layered, evil thing. You were right to bring this to me.”

  “I would still be cautious,” I warned. “Even handling it. At all.”

  “Naturally,” she agreed. “I’ll be keeping a close eye on it. Like I said, I can see hints of magical signatures on the item right now, but it does not appear to be any I am familiar with. Many eastern magics are still a mystery to me. I have a stack of books on them that I have yet to delve into. Now may be a good time to crack a few open. I’ll let you know when I know more.”

  “Thanks, Zinni,” I said. “It really means a lot. Do you mind if Helen stays here and helps you?”

  “Of course, she can.” Zinni smiled. “It will be nice to have some assistance for once, and I know Helen is well-versed in many subjects.”

  “Good, it’s settled then,” I said. “I’m going to make a quick run to my ship and get some medicine that might at least ease the King’s pain, and then I’ll take the rest of our crew to hunt down that ambassador and see if I can get some answers out of him. Stay safe, ladies. I should be back in a few days.”

  “Please be safe yourself, my love,” Helen said before kissing me. “I personally will come looking for you if you are gone longer than four days without word.”

  3

  I made a brief stop to see Priam as I returned to the palace with the medicine from my ship, which was just some numbing stuff you could purchase over-the-counter at any store back home. He was asleep, and his aide told me that he would administer the pills once the King awoke.

  His Majesty did not look well at all. If I was not reassured by the slow rhythmic rise and fall of his belly, I might have mistaken him for dead. His skin was a ghastly shade of pale, more fitting of a vampire than of a man. Like his wife, he seemed so fragile now. The physical state of the royal couple was mirrored by their subjects, every one of them stricken with grief or panic, like children who had lost their parents in a supermarket. The aide himself seemed as if he had been crying before I arrived.

  I put a hand on the King’s head and was shocked at the warmth I felt. It made me worry that I would not have enough time to find this Zidan and reverse the effects of this supposed curse. Wanting to do something to help him, and knowing I was unable to where I currently stood, I bent down and whispered, “I’m going to fix this.”

  I returned to the main hall, where Hecuba and my Thirian entourage were waiting.

  “So,” I addressed the Queen, “this ambassador, Zidan. Am I to assume he was heading back to Hattusa?”

  The Queen shook her head. “That would be a reasonable assumption, as that is the direction they were taking when they made their leave. It seems to not be the case though. One of our scouts happened upon them not long after they left the palace. Apparently, Zidan circled around once he was out of sight of the city and made for the direction of Dardanelles.”

  “Has he made it to Dardanelles yet?” I was thoroughly confused. From what I was told, a trip to Dardanelles would take him farther away from his empire. “Do the guards there know to be on the lookout for them?”

  “They have been informed, yes,” said the Queen. “We have had several scouts track them down, and they were ordered not to make contact. The last scout to return from the area informed us that Zidan and his company have setup camp in the wilderness bordering Dardanelles. Why they have done this is anyone’s guess. Even if they had the element of surprise, it is unlikely they could do much damage to the port city with all the men stationed there.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “That’s a predominantly Thirian city as well, and they often venture into those woods to hunt and play wargames. I’m surprised they haven’t found the camp yet.”

  Dardanelles was the first city officially settled by the Thirian immigrants after the war. Its population had been obliterated during the conflict, and the tribesmen were sent to repopulate the settlement and maintain the port, which was a key tactical position for the Trojan army and the closest mainland port to my fledgling settlement.

  “They very well may have since we learned of the Hittite presence, but I sent a messenger to inform them to give the camp a wide berth and not engage unless provoked. They will of course be kept under constant surveillance, but at a distance.”

  “Why not have them just go in and capture Zidan?” I asked. That se
emed to be the simplest solution to me.

  “I am hesitant to make any rash decisions here. I gave it careful consideration, but I want the diplomat taken alive. I could not care less about the fate of the rest, but Zidan must be kept alive for questioning at all costs. The Thirians are a dependable people, but I am wary of their methods. They are not known for taking prisoners in the heat of battle.”

  That was true, but I was sure my friends would be able to handle such a task if it was entrusted to them. The Queen’s sentiments were commonly expressed by most locals. Almost everyone seemed to respect the Thirians because of their efforts in the war, but the citizens of Troy had a hard time fully embracing the idea of their coexistence with the “savage” people. Many people thought that their way of life was far too different from that of the “civilized” nations.

  I did not like to fuel such notions, but I understood that sometimes foreign ideas could be scary to a lot of people. Many people had a hard time coming to terms with notion that the tribesmen cannibalized their deceased. I did all I could to prevent that from becoming common knowledge, but it was a difficult thing to hide after a large chunk of their population had been killed in the war. The week after the final battle was an uncomfortable time for everyone as the Thirians gathered in the plains downwind of the walled city and feasted on the flesh of their loved ones in full view of hundreds of Trojan witnesses. Such behavior left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth, so I could understand the Queen’s sentiments.

  I glanced in the direction of my companions; they were watching us with blank stares. It was hard to tell how they felt about their public image. Knowing what I knew about their people, I assumed they likely did not care all that much as long as it did not interrupt their daily lives. Surely, they raised a few eyebrows at some of the Trojans’ local customs.

  “Fair enough,” I said. “Show us the way and we’ll make quick work of this whole mess.”

  The Queen introduced us to one of the scouts that had seen the camp. He was to lead us back to it so we could do the job. Easy enough.

 

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