by Peter Tonkin
‘But of course,’ said Achilles, his tone inflexible, ‘if you bring your Argives I’ll have to bring my Myrmidons. Furthermore, the Myrmidons are by no means friendless. A confrontation that begins between you and your Argives and myself with my Myrmidons will tear the entire army into two warring factions. And if that happens, we won’t stop until both of the sons of Atreus are with the gods up on Olympus – or with Hades in the Underworld.’
‘There you have it,’ spat Clytemnestra. ‘Civil war. And the gods alone know how long you have to think of a way out of it!’
I know how long, I thought. You have until the new moon rises like Artemis’ bow in the sky.
Then, utterly unexpectedly, a new voice entered the conversation. ‘Father. Mother.’ Said Princess Iphigenia. ‘I cannot allow the entire Achaean army to go to war with itself over me. I could not bear it if one royal hero were to die, let alone the fifty or more you have assembled with their armies here. In what set of scales does the life of one young girl weigh more than the lives of so many?’
‘In the scales Menelaus is using,’ said Achilles grimly. ‘Because he weighs the recovery of his runaway bride against the lives of all the men you would protect, Princess. It is a gallant gesture, Iphigenia, and a noble sacrifice. But no matter how content you are to make it, the weight of my honour still sits in the balance beside you. I cannot allow you to offer yourself any more than I can allow the High King or his soothsayer to accept your offer. Be warned Agamemnon. I will kill the man who touches her whether he has an army ranged behind him or not.’
Having delivered that ultimatum, Achilles came stalking out of the tent and strode off down towards the black ships and the Myrmidon camp. I waited a few more moments, then I followed him down to the shoreline but this time I kept well back.
***
‘Hades take the pair of them!’ said Odysseus when I reported back aboard Thalassa and found him still deep in conversation with Diomedes. ‘Agamemnon for his cowardly stratagems and Achilles for his overweening pride! A grain of truth and an iota of humility is all it would have taken. Did you overhear anything else?’
‘I heard Achilles leave and saw him start off down the hill. Then Clytemnestra took Iphigenia into the women’s quarters. And Agamemnon sent for Kalkhas. That was all. I left and came straight here.’
‘Well done,’ said Odysseus. ‘You have discovered a great deal that is of vital importance. Now we must try and use what we have learned to rescue these two fighting cocks from the situation they have put the entire Argive army in!’
‘But it’s not just them,’ I said. ‘It’s the Goddess as well. Were she a scrap less vengeful; were the Oracle a jot less rigid in passing down Artemis’ terms…’
‘Or,’ said Diomedes, ‘was the High Priestess just a little less inflexible in enforcing them…’
‘Indeed,’ said Odysseus pensively. ‘Indeed! The Oracle and the High Priestess must bear some responsibility too.’
‘The only one who appears to be entirely blameless in all of this is Ikaros,’ I said. ‘He has done nothing but try to help the investigation and to protect me from a range of dangers, both human and super-human.’ The memory of the huntsman standing at the dead girl’s feet dressed in his acolyte’s tunic and his mourning wreath came close to bringing tears to my eyes. But then my ripple of emotion was overcome by a real wave. All of a sudden, Thalassa stirred. The deck beneath us lifted and the hull around us canted onto a new angle before it settled once again. ‘What was that?’ wondered Diomedes, a less experienced seafarer than Odysseus or myself. ‘It’s a spring tide,’ answered Odysseus, apparently thinking nothing of it. ‘The water’s higher than usual.’
‘What is a spring tide?’ queried Diomedes.
‘The tide will be higher than usual for the next couple of nights,’ I told him. ‘Like the changes in the weather, it’s something to do with the new moon.’
‘And it’s a new moon tonight, is it?’ he asked.
‘No,’ I said thoughtlessly. ‘The moon has been dark – or almost dark – for a night or two already. It’s just about to rise with just the brightest new edge showing.’
But then I realised what I had said. I looked across at Odysseus and found him looking fixedly at me. ‘It is,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s the first sign of the new moon tonight and I had overlooked the fact, fool that I am. Too much focus on the winds and nowhere near enough on the tides! We have only a few hours to put things to rights or we are all lost!’
‘But where do we start?’ I asked.
‘Good question,’ grated Odysseus. ‘We’ll start at the top. I need to talk to Agamemnon.’
The three of us dropped onto the sand. As we did so, I turned and glanced back at the bay. The water was the same intense blue as the sky but it was streaked with white like the feathers of cloud high above. Most striking, however, was the fact that it was creeping higher and higher up the slope of sand with each succeeding wave. The hawsers running from Thalassa’s forecastle to the great stakes hammered int the ground were beginning to flex and groan. Then I turned and followed Odysseus and Diomedes as they went hurrying up the beach. As I did so, it struck me just how much of the afternoon I had spent sitting outside the High King’s tent. The sun was almost low enough to be shining straight into my eyes from amongst the treetops cresting the ridge. As I hurried after the others I tried to calculate how much time we had before the golden globe vanished entirely behind the Groves of Artemis.
We arrived at the High King’s tent, only to find it deserted except for a couple of guards and a confused-looking Achilles with Patroclus at his side. ‘They’re all gone,’ said the Prince of Phthia.
‘Where is the High King?’ demanded Odysseus, turning to the nearest guard.
The guard he was talking to looked at us, his expression one of extreme nervousness. ‘Majesties,’ he said, ‘of all the kings and princes here, the High King ordered that you should not be informed.’
Odysseus stood silently for a moment, his mind clearly racing. ‘He’s gone to the Temple,’ he said. ‘He’s planning on completing the ceremony before you can stop him, Achilles. Before any of us can stop him in fact!’ He looked up at the sky, frowning. ‘I suspect we’ll never make it up there by moonrise if we go on foot. Achilles, the chariot you won in the wager a while ago, where is it?’
‘Beside the stables where the horses are in Aulis, much like yours,’ said the Prince of Phthia.
‘Good!’ said Odysseus. ‘We might still have time to reveal the truth and stop this tragedy without you having to reach for your sword to defend the princess or your honour. Let’s go!’
We left at a run, without further hesitation. Achilles and Odysseus were far fitter than I was of course. While I huffed and puffed, they talked. Their conversation was brief. But it turned everything I thought about the case so far on its head.
‘Reveal what truth?’ asked Achilles.
‘That this has never had anything to do with the Goddess,’ said Odysseus. ‘That it has everything to do with the vengeance of broken-hearted parents mourning the thoughtless murder of their daughter.’
‘The priestess Nephele, you mean?’
‘Precisely. Nephele, passed off as a foundling raised by an elderly couple living in Aulis.’ We arrived at southern gate as Odysseus said this. ‘Their house is a little way down that street,’ he continued as we raced into the agora. ‘I visited it this afternoon with my rhapsode’s father who could teach Agamemnon a thing or two about duplicity, but who could not conceal the truth from me. Nephele was High Priestess Karpathia’s daughter.’
v
My stunned gaze travelled between Odysseus and Achilles as Diomedes and Patroclus roused the stable hands and brought the chariots out. ‘But I was brought up here,’ I puffed. ‘How is it that I knew nothing about Nephele’s true parentage?’
‘It’s not the sort of thing the city fathers wanted bandied about,’ said Odysseus. ‘Your father was still being very guarded about it when
he showed me to their house and I began to test the truth of the matter. The Temple, the Oracle and the High Priestess bring travellers to the shrine, who in turn bring wealth to Aulis. Almost as much as trading does. Your father and his council couldn’t afford to risk a scandal.’
‘But you were certain that the child Karpathia brought here saying she had been found in the Groves of the Goddess was in fact her own child?’ I demanded, scarcely able to believe it.
‘Yes,’ said Odysseus simply.
‘But who is the father?’ I asked.
Everyone went silent, then Odysseus answered, ‘The answer to that lies at the heart of the problem, of course, and it explains everything – but in a dangerous new light. Come along. I’ll tell you as we go.’
Diomedes led out Odysseus’ chariot.
‘We’ll have to hurry,’ I warned as Achilles climbed into the chariot he had won during the race on the beach to stand beside Patroclus who was holding the reins of the strongest pair of horses, ready to go. I climbed aboard Odysseus’ beside Diomedes and continued, ‘It’s almost sunset and time for the curfew,’ I warned.
Neither the Captain or Achilles said anything, so I babbled on as the chariots thundered side by side through the emptying streets. ‘It’s the first sign of the new moon tonight. The weather often changes at new moon. Karpathia says it’s also the time the Goddess is closest to the earth, with her silver bow curved in the sky. That’s why they’re completing Nephele’s funeral rights with a funeral pyre tonight. I suppose Kalkhas will be saying that the sacrifice must be made tonight as well. The princess dies as the moon rises then both she and the priestess go to the arms of Artemis, who will unchain the winds again.’
‘Odysseus flung a few words over his shoulder. ‘You were right about the new moon. The weather’s on the change. Can’t you feel it? I can even smell it,’ said the master mariner.
‘We have to hurry,’ said Achilles. I nodded. His honour was at stake.
Fortunately, the horses on both chariots were well rested and full of running. We made it to the western gate just as it was beginning to swing shut, but a shout from the golden Achilles stopped the process and we were out at the very moment the sun set, thundering side by side up the road to Thebes as the sky in front of us flamed and bled, looking out for the left-turn that would take us to the Temple of Artemis. It seemed that the broken-hearted Agamemnon had forbidden the army to attend the ceremony. Clearly only the royal generals Agamemnon could trust had been invited to witness Kalkhas performing the final act of surrender to the will of the Goddess. Even so, a slow river of soldiery was oozing up the hill, overflowing into the sacred woodland, leaping out of the chariots’ way as Diomedes and Patroclus each bellowed a warning. ‘So,’ said Achilles. ‘Nephele’s other parent…’
‘It was Ikaros,’ answered Odysseus. ‘He gave up his life as a successful, well-respected hunter and became a servant of the Goddess at first to be with Karpathia and later to be near Nephele as well. Why else would he do such a thing? They must have been such a contented little family living under the hand of the Goddess until the fatal day that High King Agamemnon went hunting.
‘It seemed that Nephele’s murder was almost incidental to the Oracle who pronounced the Goddess’ judgement. But of course it was central to everything Karpathia and Ikaros did after that. Ikaros found his daughter’s body and the place the stag was killed. But neither he nor Karpathia could discover who had fired the fatal arrow. Not even when Karpathia confronted Agamemnon personally - both his wife and his brother agree that one of his greatest talents is barefaced lying. In the immediate aftermath of that failure, she saw me and, knowing something of my reputation, decided to enlist my help. Which, of course, I gave, unaware at that moment that the High King himself was the man we were seeking. He however shared his guilty secret with three others – Menelaus, Kalkhas and Oikonomos his steward – the latter because he needed to dispose of the stag. Menelaus advised him to send the first message to Mycenae and he did so, though he told you nothing about it of course, Achilles.’
‘Then he had second thoughts,’ nodded the Prince of Phthia. ‘And he sent the second message. The one that Sophos carried.’
‘We reckoned Menelaus had Sophos killed,’ I said. ‘He was the one who wanted the matter settled most urgently so his ships could sail to Troy and recover Helen for him.’
‘But now we have a different suspect with a different motive,’ said Odysseus. ‘Ikaros wanted the message stopped because he wanted the princess here in order that her father and mother could feel the pain and loss that he and Karpathia felt.’
‘Is that so?’ I asked, my mind a whirl. ‘The princess’s sacrifice has nothing to do with the Goddess, the weather or the winds?’
‘Nothing. So Achilles and we can stop the whole tragic mess without actually upsetting the Goddess or condemning Agamemnon’s thousand ships to an eternity becalmed off Aulis. As we’ve already observed, the weather’s on the change with the new moon in any case.’
‘Then of course we have to stop it at once,’ I said.
‘What do you suppose we’re doing now?’ grated Odysseus. And as he spoke, Diomedes swung the chariot in the tightest possible turn beside Patroclus and we were galloping side by side through the Groves of the Goddess towards her Temple, the funeral pyre and the sacrificial altar.
***
‘So,’ said Diomedes as the horses settled and he could relax his grip on the reins, ‘the actions we have been seeing as the hand of the Goddess were in fact the stratagems of grieving parents bent on revenge?’
‘I believe I can prove the likelihood,’ said Odysseus. ‘I suspect they worked out that Agamemnon was guilty even before I did so myself. And if the plans they began to put in place as a consequence seem a little convoluted, consider that they, a priestess and an acolyte at a lowly provincial temple, were trying to enact vengeance on the most powerful man in Achaea. Not only that, but a man who stands at the head of the greatest army ever assembled, and that army is all camped less than a stadion away from where they live.’
‘I hadn’t thought of it,’ said Diomedes. ‘But when you put it like that, their predicament is clear.’
‘As is the plan, though they adapted it as things went on. First, they enlisted the help of the Oracle who made her pronouncement about the anger of the Goddess and the only way to escape it. The weather helped them there, as did the fact that we sailors who know about such things were in very short supply in Agamemnon’s army. And the High King was already at loggerheads with your father and the city elders, lad – the only other reliable source of maritime information. Apart from me, there’s really only Nestor who can read the weather accurately and he was far too fascinated by the stories of the Goddess herself and his similar past experiences to exercise any practical reasoning.
‘So, they enlisted my help and attached Ikaros to my little crew. They began to spy on Agamemnon and Menelaus as well as upon us and the progress we were making. Our young rhapsode here had proved what a simple task that can be – the sons of Atreus are used to living in citadels buttressed with cyclopean walls. They do not think to lower their voices in leather- and linen-sided tents. So Ikaros and Karpathia learned of Agamemnon’s first message and all seemed well. They waited for me to unmask him, hoping to watch him become trapped by the Oracle’s pronouncements, rendered helpless by the will of his armies. But he sent me away because he realised I was getting too close to the truth. The stag was consumed, its gilded antlers a bribe to ensure Oikonomos’ continued silence. The second message was sent. And another set of players entered the game.’
‘This sounds complex,’ said Achilles, who was noted for physical rather than mental prowess after all.
‘Not really,’ Odysseus answered. ‘We know that Karpathia and Ikaros wanted Iphigenia here so they could get their revenge. But Menelaus wanted her here too by that stage because he believed the Oracle. Unless the girl died, he would never recover his wife, his honour or his standing as
the second most powerful king in Achaea. Just as his brother turned to Palamedes for support, so Menelaus turned to Aias. Neither man was made privy to what the sons of Atreus were actually doing, but they followed their orders and helped each-other on occasion. So when Ikaros shot poor Sophos from the cover of the bushes on the right side of the road to Thebes, keeping well clear of the Groves of Artemis on the left of course, the wounded man fell at the feet of the Rat and his companion hiding there at Aias’ orders as Menelaus had commanded. They cut his throat and tried, unsuccessfully to remove his head as Menelaus or his cohort Aias must have demanded. Ikaros vanished as they completed his task for him.’
‘But the Rat and his assistants did not vanish,’ I took up the story. ‘They kept a close eye on me and when they realised the High Priestess was using me to look in detail at Sophos’ death – because, I suppose, she wanted to know more about who had started interfering in her plans – they decided that I was the next rhapsode who needed his throat cut. But,’ I hesitated, trying to clear my thoughts. ‘You have been saying that the Goddess did not interfere in any of this – that it was all Ikaros, Karpathia and the Oracle. And yet the Goddess did interfere. She sent her great bear to crush the Rat’s partner in crime and that saved my life.’
‘I cannot disagree,’ said Odysseus. ‘But I have to observe that the Goddess’ apparent interference on your behalf gave Ikaros some very useful ideas. He must have smuggled in the snake that killed the Rat in the end; he somehow mimicked a boar and almost gutted Oikonomos. Getting rid of enemies in ways that further established the personal involvement of Artemis all served very effectively to convince everyone of her supernatural involvement and make this end even more inevitable.’
‘They have not destroyed Agamemnon,’ said Achilles, impressed, ‘but by carefulness and cunning they have made Agamemnon destroy himself!’
‘Not if we can help it, Majesty!’ I said, my imagination filled with visions of Princess Iphigenia with her hazel eyes, her full lips, her red hair. And her pale throat cut wide by Kalkhas’ sacrificial knife. ‘Not if we can help it!’