Vengeance at Aulis (The Trojan Murders Book 2)

by Peter Tonkin

  Diomedes interrupted the old king courteously but firmly – in my experience the only way to get a word in – and explained he had brought two guests to the modest feast. Nestor knew me; he and I had been involved together in Odysseus’ search for Achilles at Phthia and on Skyros. But he had not met Ikaros. Many kings – Palamedes and Aias for example – would have been insulted to find a rhapsode and a temple servant as guests but Nestor’s open heart and firm belief in xenia, the duty of hospitality, were amongst his greatest strengths. ‘The Temple of Artemis?’ he said to Ikaros as soon as Diomedes introduced him. ‘That’s odd. I was just describing a meal I cooked with King Admetus of Pherae and of course, as I’m sure you know, Admetus and Artemis had the most terrible falling-out over his failure to sacrifice to her at his wedding. So when he entered the bridal chamber expecting to find his lovely new wife Alcestis, he found masses of deadly snakes instead! Huge vipers, mostly grey with black markings, some of them as long as my leg! Terrible! It took the direct intervention of Apollo to sort everything out. I’ll tell you the full story precisely as Admetus told it to me while we eat.’ He turned to his attendants. ‘Someone bring more wine…’

  Ikaros and I walked less than steadily back to Thalassa a good deal later, our bellies full of honeyed goat, our heads fuddled with the wine that accompanied the old king’s lengthy reminiscence and our minds filled with pictures of grey-bodied, black-marked vipers as long as our legs who obeyed the whims of the easily infuriated Goddess. Fortunately, we didn’t meet any of Artemis’ fearsome pets and made it back to Thalassa where we were able to make ourselves makeshift beds on the deck by the light of the waning moon. I fell into one of the deepest sleeps I can remember. Ikaros said later that he actually thought I had died in the night for I lay there more like a corpse than a sleeper.

  An unnaturally bright morning found us with sore heads and dry throats but fresh-baked emmer-bread, honey and cold spring water went a long way towards restoring us. Then, we set off for Machaon’s tent to see whether the Rat’s memory was beginning to return. Once again I was carrying my leather bag, but this time I had left the skull and the foreleg in acting-Captain Eurylocus’ safe keeping. All the satchel now contained were the knives and the broken arrow.

  We paused at Diomedes’ tent to find the young king up, but Nestor unusually still asleep. So, once more the three of us set out side by side. We found Machaon immediately when we arrived and that was enough to distract us from our planned mission. For he was performing the most delicate of operations, trying to cut the arrow free of Sophos’ naked chest. He had several helpers working alongside him. There were bowls of water, various implements, linen cloths and surprisingly little blood – given that the physician had made a considerable incision between the ribs where the arrow was lodged and was trying to work it free with both his huge fingers and some sort of gripping implement.

  ‘I had to snap the shaft,’ he told us as he worked. ‘There was no other way to remove the poor man’s clothing. But I have kept the flight-end safe for you and I have every hope that the arrowhead will soon join it so that you can compare the pair of them. I have examined the body fully now that I have had it stripped and it is clear to me that our conversation yesterday covered all the important points. The arrow knocked him off his horse but did not kill him at once. He was still alive and lying on his back when his throat was cut. Someone of considerable strength held his head still while his companion first slit and then sawed at the gullet, trying to remove the head. Everything about the corpse from the wound in the throat and the arrow in his side to the bruising on his left knee, hip, elbow, arm and shoulder bears this out.’

  ***

  ‘It looks as though he didn’t fight back if those are the only marks on him,’ I said. ‘Surely there would have been bruises at least if he was held down while trying to escape. On his shoulders or his arms, perhaps.’

  ‘And that would have left some sign at the spot on the roadside where he died,’ added Ikaros. ‘But there was nothing apart from footprints and the track of the body being pulled away. Only the blood.’

  ‘Yes. He was, perhaps, lucky: he seems to have been unconscious at the end. There is a swelling on the back of his skull I assumed he sustained in the fall from his horse but he might have been clubbed into the bargain; perhaps when his attackers realised he was not quite dead yet. A good point. I will explain to the High King when he arrives that Sophos was unconscious at the end. It might make things easier for him. This will come as quite a shock, I’m afraid. Sophos was a valued servant and something of a confidante I understand.’

  ‘Is the High King coming now?’ I asked, thinking back to Diomedes’ warning. Agamemnon was one enemy I could well do without, always assuming he wasn’t after my head already.

  ‘I have sent Podialirius to request his presence but neither one has returned as yet. If experience is anything to go by, Agamemnon will take his time; he does not react swiftly to such requests, even from other monarchs. Yet another way of emphasising his standing and importance. He is after all the Spudeos Basileus, the High King.’

  ‘In the mean-time,’ said Diomedes, ‘Podialirius told us that one of your servants tending the hurt and wounded saw who brought the Rat in yesterday. Do you know which man that was?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid not. You’ll have to wait for Podialirius to return and ask him.’

  ‘While we’re waiting,’ I said, ‘may we go and see whether the Rat remembers any more than he did when we talked to him yesterday?’

  ‘Of course. Do you know where he is?’

  ‘We do,’ said Diomedes, and led the way out of Machaon’s tent. As I followed Diomedes, I could feel my breath shorten and my heart speed up in anticipation. I really hoped that the Rat would tell us who had tasked him with the murders he had undertaken – in my case with limited success. Or, failing that, we would find the servant who accepted him into the facility and get a description of the men who brought him in. What a coup it would be, I thought, if King Odysseus returned – as he was bound to do at almost any moment – to find that I had managed to unmask the priestess’ killer and the rhapsode’s murderer without him!

  The tent where the Rat was being tended was silent. Half a dozen figures lay, raised a handsbreadth off the ground by the straw-stuffed mattresses, covered in a variety of cloaks which were clearly serving a makeshift blankets. I shook my head in mild surprise – I hadn’t realised there were that many last night. But they had all been hidden in shadows of course while we were concentrating on the puddle of brightness from Podialirius’ lamp. There was no-one tending them but then again none of them were demanding attention either. We moved amongst them as silently as possible, searching for the Rat’s bruised face. He was further from the entrance than I remembered but I eventually found him, covered to the chin by his threadbare cloak, and signalled to the others. Still staying quiet, we gathered round his bed. ‘He seems to be sleeping soundly,’ whispered Diomedes. ‘It’s almost a pity to wake him.’

  ‘I hesitate to disagree, Majesty,’ said Ikaros. ‘But the murderous little bastard doesn’t deserve any courtesy from us!’ He leaned down and took the Rat by his shoulder, shaking him vigorously immediately he did so.’

  ‘Shhh!’ said somebody. I glanced up, wondering who it could be. The sound seemed to be coming from behind us. Perhaps an attendant had returned unnoticed.

  ‘SHHHHH!’ said the mysterious voice again. But there was no-one else there.

  ‘Look out!’ shouted Ikaros. He jumped back, cannoned into me and nearly sent me sprawling. His elbow slammed into my temple. Among the flashes of light that danced round the edge of my damaged vision, I saw Diomedes leaping back as well. The cloak covering the Rat heaved with a strange, inhuman life of its own, as though the murderer’s scrawny body was being transformed into something sinisterly serpentine.

  Then the cloak slipped aside and the sinuous form of a viper slithered down onto the ground. Grey-bodied, black-marked and every bit as long a
s our legs.

  iv

  ‘This is most unusual,’ said Machaon looking down at the Rat’s black and swollen face. ‘Did anyone see where the snake went?’ He looked up across the table where Sophos had lain earlier. The rhapsode was stretched out on a straw-stuffed mattress, covered from the shoulders down with a linen sheet, awaiting a visit from his king. Both halves of the arrow were in my satchel ready for a detailed comparison with the one that had killed the priestess and the stag, though at first glance they seemed to be very different from each-other. The physician’s brother had returned without Agamemnon and was now out with as many helpers as could be spared, searching for the snake and any others that might be nearby.

  ‘No, Majesty,’ I said. ‘It vanished while we were checking to see whether anyone else in the tent had been bitten.’

  ‘And had they?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Podialirius will tell us whether anyone in the other tents was also poisoned and whether there’s anything else nearby that looks dangerous. In the mean-time, this man has been bitten several times as you can see. All the bite-marks are in the throat area which is why it is so terribly swollen. The first or second must have killed him. An aspis you said…’

  ‘Grey and black and as long as my leg, maybe longer.’ I repeated what I had already told his brother.

  ‘He must have tried to fight it off,’ said Ikaros. ‘I certainly would have.’

  ‘But why was it there in the first place?’ wondered Diomedes.

  ‘Cold night, warm body just above the ground; an excellent resting-place,’ said Machaon. ‘Warm to begin with, anyway. It’s cold now.’

  ‘And that’s probably why the creature was so sluggish when we found it,’ said Ikaros.

  ‘Lucky for us it was,’ I said, nodding my agreement.

  ‘Well,’ said Diomedes, pulling us back to our mission. ‘We’ve wasted our time coming here. He’s not going to tell us anything now.’

  ‘I don’t know, Majesty,’ I said. ‘Perhaps if we find the servant who took him in and can track whoever brought him in the first place…’

  But no sooner had I finished speaking than events took an unexpected turn. Podialirius pushed through the tent-flap and paused holding it open. Outside there was a small group of men I did not recognise. ‘You see?’ Podialirius was saying. ‘Your friend died in the night, bitten by an asp. The leader of the little group, who bore a striking resemblance to the man the bear crushed, stepped respectfully into the tent, head bowed, face set like stone. He was so massive and hairy that he might well have passed for a bear himself – a likeness emphasised by the shaggy skin garment he was wearing. He reached out a hesitant hand and felt the Rat’s stone-cold forehead. ‘He was our companion, Majesty. May we take him and oversee his funeral?’

  Machaon looked at the man, frowning. ‘Wait outside,’ he said abruptly. ‘You may have him when I’ve finished with him.’ He waved the Bear away. The soldier turned obediently and joined his associates just beyond the doorway. Podialirius let the leather curtain fall behind him.

  ‘Well,’ said Ikaros. ‘Not such a waste of time after all, begging your pardon for disagreeing, Majesty.’

  ‘Even if those are not the men who brought him in, the fact they’re here to take him away will do just as well,’ said Diomedes with a nod of agreement.

  ‘What approach would be the best, I wonder?’ I said. ‘Should we just go out and question them – or should we wait until Prince Machaon releases the body and then follow them to see where they take it?’

  ‘Maybe a bit of both, what do you think?’ suggested Ikaros. ‘You go and question them while I sneak out the back and get ready to follow them when they take the body.’

  ‘Good idea,’ said Diomedes decisively. ‘As long as Machaon and Podialirius here are in agreement.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Machaon. ‘That’s fine with us.’

  He had hardly finished speaking before Diomedes was out of the tent and confronting the Bear. I stood just behind him, trying my best to look invisible. These were the friends and colleagues of a man who had tried to kill me twice, after all. Any one of them might be tasked with finishing his work.

  ‘You, there!’ said Diomedes. ‘You know who I am?’ He drew himself up to his full height and glared down his nose in a fine impersonation of Palamedes.

  ‘Yes, Majesty,’ said the Bear, his tone ingratiating, almost grovelling. Diomedes took this as a matter of course – I was less convinced but there was nothing I could do to share my doubts ‘You are King Diomedes of Argos,’ said the Bear.

  ‘Good. In that case you know how dangerous it would be if you were to lie to me.’

  ‘Yes, Majesty. I would never dream of doing such a thing.’ The group behind him growled in gruff agreement, as unconvincing as the Bear’s humility.

  ‘Whose army are you with?’ demanded King Diomedes.

  ‘We serve with Aias, King of the Locrians, Majesty,’ came the unhesitating answer.

  ***

  ‘That was easy enough,’ said Diomedes as we watched the Bear and his companions take the Rat’s body out of Machaon’s tent, followed by the brother physicians off about their work and leaving the pair of us alone. ‘But what do we do with the information?’

  ‘Aias,’ I said. ‘Palamedes’ companion in the investigation of the priestess’ death. I wonder whether Palamedes asked for his help – or whether Aias offered it.’

  ‘The difference being…’

  ‘It might be that Palamedes was commissioned, as Odysseus suspected, to frustrate the aims of the enquiry and ensure that whoever was found guilty could in no way reflect on the High King or indeed his high command. He could have done this well enough without Aias’ assistance, for, despite his faults he is massively creative and fearsomely intelligent. If he did ask for help, however, then it might well have been that there was something in the enquiry that even he could not understand or handle on his own.’

  ‘Unlikely though that sounds,’ said Diomedes pensively. ‘Though, now I think of it, it might have been something that required action rather than thought; something that needed throats cut or backs stabbed rather than arguments won or problems reasoned out.’

  ‘However,’ I continued, ‘if Aias pushed his way into the enquiry so to speak, then he must have an agenda that goes further than simply helping his friend by supplying some ruthless killers. An agenda, seemingly, that involves dead rhapsodes. But even then, there’s something more. Something at the back of my mind that I cannot quite put my finger on…’

  ‘That,’ said Diomedes, ‘will be the element that Odysseus will work out for you as soon as he returns.’

  That was as far as our discussion had reached before the tent flap was raised once more and Machaon ushered two of his helpers into the tent. They almost ran to the linen-draped Sophos and one took his shoulders while the other took his ankles and with a practised motion they swung him back up onto Machaon’s table, despite his pendant arms and the strange behaviour of his half-severed head. Machaon fussed about the body at once, tucking in the limbs, straightening the linen sheet and settling the head so that the gape of the throat was mostly closed. No sooner had he done this than Podialirius also returned, but this time in elevated company. The High King was dressed in a himation of Tyrian purple with gilded edges. His belt and sandals were of the finest leather, studded and fastened with gold. Even though he wore no head dress, everything about him seemed to shout I am the Spudeos Basileus High King here; even the gods bow down to me. Behind him stood a squad of attendants, held back by a curt gesture as he came onwards alone.

  ‘Well?’ snapped Agamemnon as he stooped for an instant to enter the tent then drew himself up to his full, regal height, ‘what is it you want me to see? Show it to me and be quick about it I haven’t much time…’

  Machaon stepped back, revealing Sophos on the table. ‘This is what we wanted to show you, Spudeos Basileus.’

  High King Agamemnon glanced at the body
and was actually in the act of shrugging dismissively when he stopped. An expression of shock came onto his face; surprise so profound that it bordered on horror. ‘Sophos,’ he said, his voice ragged, as though he had been screaming for a long time before he spoke. ‘How could it be Sophos?’ the question was almost a whisper. He swung round passing from consternation to outrage in a heartbeat. ‘Who has dared do this?’ he snarled.

  We all looked at him silently because of course none of us knew the answer he was seeking, and “the Rat, who serves Aias of Locris did it” was not going to get us anywhere and might even get us killed.

  The High King used the silence to gain some measure of control over himself. ‘Where was he found?’ he asked, his voice steadier.

  Diomedes told him, ‘By the road to Thebes, in the Groves of Artemis there.’

  ‘When was he found?’

  Again, Diomedes told him. But then he added, ‘It seems certain he had been lying there for some time. He was killed while travelling towards Thebes, almost certainly soon after you sent him.’

  ‘Going towards Thebes,’ echoed Agamemnon. ‘Going towards Thebes. Not coming back from Thebes?’

  ‘No, Spudeos Basileus,’ said Diomedes. ‘We have been to the place and saw the body there before we brought it back here. There is no doubt. He was going towards Thebes when he was murdered.’

  ‘This can’t be,’ croaked Agamemnon. ‘This can’t be!’ he was raging again, almost completely out of control.

  When a broad hand lifted the leather curtain to reveal Odysseus’ most trusted oarsman and servant Elpenor; the man who had led the king’s entourage on the journey to Ithaka. And now, clearly, back from Ithaka. ‘Spudeos Basileus,’ he said to Agamemnon, ‘I have been sent on ahead by King Odysseus to bring great news! My King is in company with Queen Clytemnestra, Prince Orestes, Princess Iphigenia and their attendants. They met when they stayed overnight in Thebes. Now they have all left Thebes together, and will be here soon. The Queen has asked me to request that you begin preparations for the wedding ceremony and the great feasts that must accompany it at once!’ He dropped the curtain as he turned and walked away.