Pharos had grunted something and Deklah was glaring back at him. “You know nothing, Pharos! “he snarled. “You think we volunteered? I never wanted anything to do with it! May the name curse that horse!”
The soldier beside Pharos had caught Deklah’s last few words. “The horse! Tell us about the horse!” he roared, his face red with wine. Others around the fire picked it up and began chanting, beating time on their knees. “Heroes of the horse! Heroes of the horse!”
Deklah looked at them. “Heroes? You think we were heroes? It was nothing like that.” He spat. “Nothing.” He glared around the circle of firelight but the chanting just got louder. Eventually he held up his hands. “Enough! I’ll tell you. But I promise, you won’t like it.”
He picked up his wine to walk over to a tangle of driftwood stacked near the fire, and stared into his drinking bowl for a long moment. The men hushed one another as he looked up. “First of all, whatever you’ve heard, we weren’t volunteers. We were tricked.
“You remember when King Agamemnon announced that there was no shame being defeated by gods, so after ten years it was time to go home? He was a liar. It was part of a plan that he and Lopex thought up. Why we believed him, I don’t know. But we couldn’t load our boats and sail for home fast enough. Remember how we even burnt out our camp? We were fools.”
He shook his head. “Think about it. When we left Troy that day, why did we set sail so late in the afternoon? I’ll tell you. To make sure we’d stop at Tenedos for the night. Nice and close,” he added bitterly. “King Ag, Lopex, the other local commanders—they knew we were going back.
“Look around. Do you see Lopex here?” Deklah gestured around the camp. “Even now, he’s too proud to eat with us. So that night on Tenedos when he offered a few of us some wine that he’d hidden away, I thought he was trying to say sorry. For keeping us from home for ten years. For losing the war.”
He grimaced and drained his wine bowl. “I don’t know what he put in that wine but I woke up in the early morning with eleven other men and a howling headache.” There was a stir around the campfire. Deklah had been wrong. If there was one story the Greeks liked better than heroism, it was betrayal. Skewers of dried fish sat in the men’s hands or lay forgotten on the sand.
A guffaw came from the darkness just beyond the firelight. “Couldn’t hold your grapes, heretic?” Ury staggered into the light, a wineskin perched on his shoulder, the bunghole beside his mouth. “Try praying to that name of yours, see if that helps.”
He lurched to a stop in front of Deklah. “Heretic!” he slurred, nearly toppling backward into the fire. “Did you hear me? I said, pray—”
Pharos came up quickly behind Ury and dragged him firmly away by the shoulder. “Silence, cousin. Not to look foolish.”
Deklah sighed. “So there I am. Around me the other men are just waking up,” he went on. “I figure out I’m straddling some kind of long beam, men on it just ahead and behind me. It sounds like we’re packed into a small wooden room, perhaps ten or twelve of us.
“Then I hear Lopex behind me. ‘Agamemnon’s carpenters spent six months building this, out on the island of Tenedos where the Trojans wouldn’t see, ’ he says. ‘It’s a wooden statue. A horse. When the Trojans spot it at dawn, they’ll bring it inside the walls. Tomorrow night, the fleet will return. We will climb out and open the gates of Troy to them.’”
My head jerked up. Gods, please let Deklah be lying. Troy was never taken by something this obvious. King Priam was a little past it, but a giant statue should have made a five-year-old suspicious.
“For a moment I didn’t understand,” Deklah continued. “Climb out? Then I realized what he meant: that’s what we were in: a wooden statue! ‘It will be light soon, ’ Lopex said, ‘and the Trojans will send scouts. If they hear us inside, they’ll burn us alive. One more thing: the hatch is nailed shut from the outside. The only way out now is to get into Troy, where my spy will open it.’”
If I’d still had any hope that Deklah was making this up, it vanished at that moment. Sealing everyone inside with him— so that his plan was their only hope of survival—was the sort of brilliant, dangerous strategy that only Lopex could come up with.
“I could not believe what I was hearing,” Deklah was saying. “I tried to turn around, but with the bracebeams left and right it was too cramped. Right behind me, Askrion starts shouting. ‘What in kopros kind of honourless plan is that? Do you think the Trojans are stupid? What if the fleet doesn’t come, or someone farts and the Trojans hear us? That’s not a plan; it’s suicide!’
“Just behind him, Lopex’s voice goes all cold. ‘It’s like this, ’ he says. ‘If we fail today, we die. The entire Greek fleet can’t save us if the Trojans find us.’ Then he adds, so soft I can hardly hear him, ‘The gods have forced this war upon me. We will win it or die. But challenge me again and you’ll never know.’
“Askrion was from Pylos or he would have known better. He shouted something and went to turn around. I heard a knife. Something hot splashed my shoulders, and that bubbling sound, you know, sucking through a slashed throat, and I could smell blood.
“‘If we win, nobody will care how we got in.’ Right behind me, Askrion is jerking and clutching at me as he slides down. I try to turn and hold him up, but Lopex just keeps talking. ‘If we lose, nobody will remember.’ Askrion slips out of my grip and slides off the beam behind me. ‘The Trojans will come for us soon. From this point on, I will kill the man who speaks without permission.’
“I bit my tongue so hard it bled. We didn’t ask for this. I couldn’t think of anything except killing Lopex. Even so, at some point I must have drifted off.
“What woke me was a thump. It must have been morning because there was sunlight getting in the cracks. And there were voices outside. Not Greek. The Trojans had found us.
“Lopex hadn’t bothered to bring anyone who spoke their language, but we knew what they were arguing about. Meanwhile it’s getting hotter and hotter, sitting in there on the beach as the sun rises. By this time it’s gone mid-morning but the sweat-stink is already so bad I can hardly breathe. Nobody bothered building in a place to take a leak, either, so Lopex won’t let us drink, only small sips.
“Outside, I can hear a crowd gathering. There’s a thump, then some more. They’re throwing rocks at us. It’s like being chained up inside a drum! Some of the men ahead are moaning in fear. Of course the Trojans aren’t going to bring us in. They’re going to burn us alive. They’re not fools. Then the thumps stop. At first we’re relieved. Suddenly there’s this huge lurch that throws us against the side—they’re trying to knock us over! We brace ourselves as each sway takes us farther. Someone ahead of me throws up, and the smell nearly covers up the sweat and blood.
“Then we hear another voice outside. Greek! The rocking stops. Someone with a Trojan accent starts asking questions. I recognize the Greek voice, it’s that little weasel, Sinon. Remember him? The one who was always around when someone’s gambling dice or knife disappeared? I guess he stayed behind when we sailed. I can’t believe what he’s telling them out there. He’s saying that Agamemnon tried to sacrifice him for a good sailing wind, but he got away.” Deklah sniffed.
“Filthy little liar. That nasty nose-voice of his always made me sick. Next he says that an oracle told the Greeks to build this statue as penance for attacking Troy. The gods would let them sail home if they made it big enough. From the sound of the crowd, they’re believing him.
“Finally he says it will protect their city for a thousand years, if they bring it inside.” Deklah paused as an owl hooted somewhere inland.
“Pharos, you were right. This was not the warrior’s way. Creeping and lying our way in? I wanted to warn them myself. Sinon could never have invented lies like this. It had to be Lopex,” Deklah added.
Lopex again. My stomach curled around itself once more.
“Maybe a hand later there’s a set of jerks as though we’re being levered onto a cart. Th
ey turn us around and start pulling us up the hill toward the city gates. The craftsmen who built that thing didn’t design it to last, it was just a thin shell. The whole torso is flexing like a child’s bow; the stress is pulling it apart. All around me I can hear joints creaking, dowels working loose. I don’t even know if it will last long enough to reach the gates. Finally we stop. We must be at the city wall now because I can hear a crowd coming out.
“Suddenly there’s a new voice, furious, getting the crowd worked up. Then there’s a crunch. Something has smashed into the side. Right in front of me, Stephanos groans and starts to slump down on the beam. A spear has come right through the planking and taken him between the ribs!”
A murmur went through the Greeks but Deklah went on.
“He throws his head back to scream. I reach around and clamp my hand over his mouth, hissing at him to be quiet, but he starts screaming into my palm, jerking and twitching around on the spear.
“Then I realize the whole spear shaft is shaking as he moves. With the other end outside, it’s like waving a sheet out a window! I try to hold him still but he’s got the pain strength now. Suddenly Lopex is right there behind me. ‘Kill him!’ he hisses. ‘Before he gives us away!’ He reaches around and hands me his knife.”
Deklah shook his head and looked up at us listening around the campfire, his eyes pleading. “We were about to be discovered. Stephanos would have died anyway, don’t you see? Not even our Trojan healer could have saved him. So I took Lopex’s knife and . . . pushed it into his ear, where it wouldn’t bleed.” A murmur went around the fire.
“Stephanos went limp immediately. If I’d let him fall the spear shaft would have moved, so I sat the rest of the day clutching a corpse to my chest.
“Then I hear shouts from outside. Panic. Suddenly there’s a scream. Deep, a man in agony. It goes on and on, like it’s being squeezed out of him, then a popping noise as if something is being crushed, and the scream drops off.
“There’s total silence outside for a while, then I hear that snakeskin voice of Sinon again. ‘You see, brave Trojans, how I tell the truth? That is what the gods do to those who defile their gifts.’
“I never found out what happened out there, but after Sinon says this, they can’t haul us inside fast enough. It scrapes horribly but they get us in the gates. We can hear the whole city celebrating around us, all day and into the evening. The smells of food and wine just outside are driving us insane. Of course, we’ve got no food with us, only a little dried fish. The water’s long gone.
“It’s deep night before it goes quiet. Stephanos is as cold as a dewstone in my arms, and I’ve been sitting cramped so long I can’t even feel my feet. And we’re totally blind. Nobody thought to build in spy holes, of course. There could be a whole squadron waiting out there.
“Finally we hear a soft thud below us and that little weasel, Sinon. ‘And have the mighty heroes arrived, then?’ Lopex just grunts at him to open up. When the hatch behind Lopex finally opens, the fresh air is like the breath of a goddess. I let poor Stephanos go at last and climb out. There’s a rope ladder hidden inside a thick fall of horsehair like a giant tail. At the bottom I get my first sight of it, standing on two flatbed carts lashed together, just inside the city gates.” Deklah lifted his bowl for a drink, frowning when he found it empty.
“It’s a giant horse, just like Lopex said,” he continued, dropping the bowl. “The name alone knows what it must have cost. The whole body is polished black maple. The head is so perfect I swear it’s looking at me. Eyes of polished marble. Teeth and hooves of beaten gold. You know, the whole Greek army could have eaten for months on what it must have taken to build. Even the tail is real spun horsehair. The thing is glowing like a god in the moonlight. Now I knew why it was so flimsy inside. All the skill must have gone into its appearance. I could almost see why the Trojans were fooled.” Deklah’s tone was hushed. There wasn’t a sound from the men around the fire now.
Deklah frowned. “That’s when I noticed where the hatch was. It was right at the end. We had come out through that thing’s gloutos! Lopex comes around the far side. ‘The hatch is there because the tail hides the rope ladder, ’ he says. He doesn’t even sound embarrassed. Right then, we all realize the same thing—Lopex is standing right there, unprotected. We start toward him, but he just looks at us.
“‘I wouldn’t, ’ he says, really calm. You’d think he was talking about the weather. ‘There’s only one way out, ’ he goes on, ‘and that’s through those gates.’
“Just then I’m thinking there’s another way out, and it’s a lot easier. But Lopex continues.‘Right now you’re thinking of killing me and running. Just remember, I’ve got the only weapon, ’ he says. He pulls out a long knife, very casual. ‘A noisy fight will draw every Trojan within five hundred paces, ’ he says. ‘And I promise you, it will be noisy.’ He looks around at us.‘Who’s first? Neoptolemos? Your father would be ashamed. Deklah? Where’s that famous loyalty? Lykos?’
“He licks his lips and his expression changes. ‘Believe me when I say I dislike this as much as you do. If I’d asked for volunteers, I would have gotten fireheads and glory-eaters. Men who would betray the mission for their own gain. I chose the twelve of you because you were the best. The smartest. The most adaptable. Men who would do whatever the mission needed.’ He looks right at me. ‘You’re here because you’re the ones who could pull it off.’
“He looks around at us. ‘We’re inside now, and the Trojans don’t know it. Beyond those walls, the combined armies have returned to the beach. All we need now is to open those gates and let them in. Go ahead and kill me now. You’ll be dead in moments, forgotten by morning. Stand with me, and the story of the horse of Troy will echo for ten thousand years.’”
Deklah shook his head. “If you’d asked me even a hand earlier, I would have sworn we would kill him. But somehow he talked us around. I was there and I still don’t know how he did it.
“Under the statue there’s a single Trojan guard, dead, a knife in his back with a dozen stab wounds. Sinon has come over, he’s hopping from foot to foot, bragging that he brought wine for the guard but stabbed him when he turned his back. Lopex ignores him and starts up the ladder to the watchtower beside the gate. A little while later he’s back, splashed with blood and holding a torch. There hasn’t been a whisper.
“With the tower unmanned, we set about opening the gates. There are three bronze gate-bolts, each as thick as a man’s waist, threaded into giant sockets on the opposite door. We climb up to the catwalks along the back and pull each one out. Thank the name that the Trojans kept them well greased. Even so, it took all of us to shift the bolts. Finally, we heave the doors open. Lopex stands in the opening and waves a torch up and down three times. A little while later we hear the tramp of feet as the army marches up from the beach.”
Deklah shook his head in disgust. “This was not how it was supposed to be. We were to take Troy with strength and honour, not by creeping and lying. We were tricked into helping him, and the Trojans into their own defeat. We took Troy, but a thousand years will never wash away the dishonour of how we did it.”
So now I knew. Ever since Troy had fallen, I’d wondered. It took me a long time to get to sleep that night.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Grip of Hunger
AFTER FILLING THE WATER cisterns the next morning, I crept out of camp. Ury had left early with a hunting party, and with them away I wouldn’t be missed. The stream I had drawn water from earlier crossed the beach a short walk south of the ship, and I set off for its source, a water skin on my shoulder in case I was seen leaving.
The stream wound across a broad field. After walking for nearly a hand, I entered the narrow mouth of a small valley between two steep, grassy hills that curved like lips around a long, narrow pool. A waterfall perhaps twice my height splashed into it over a narrow cliff at the far end, surrounded by a thicket of dwarf laurel bushes.
The grass was still slipp
ery with morning dew, and as I made my way around the steep-sided valley, I lost my footing and slipped into the water. Once I got used to the feeling of water up to my neck, it was refreshing, and I spent a little while thrashing around, trying to swim.
There was a noise from the bushes behind me.
“Who’s there?” I called, turning. When there was no answer, I scrambled out onto the steep bank. Something was moving in the laurel bushes, so I plunged in only to spot someone darting away. I emerged beside the waterfall only an instant later, but whoever it had been had gotten away.
From my quick glimpse, it had looked like someone about my height. One of the Greeks, obviously, but the only Greek close to my height, now that Pen was gone, was Nikias, and he was much heavier. And then there was that noise. Thinking back, it had sounded like something I hadn’t heard in a long time—a giggle.
By the time I got back to camp, a wind had come up, a constant breeze blowing off the sea. The hunting party returned late in the afternoon, and I caught their angry tone. “Not a goat or a pig to be found, not even a coney or a curse-eating bird, for Hera’s sake,” someone muttered, kicking at a driftwood log. A cloud of black and white bees buzzed out but he ignored them. “Nothing but kopros-eating cattle. Thank the gods there’ll be fish.”
But the men sent out with the net in the ship’s skaphis, the two-man oared boat that the Greeks stored just beneath the stern deck, came back empty-handed too. That night we ate dried fish and millet from storage again, and the men’s grumbles took on an anxious tone. “What sort of cursed island is this? Nothing but cattle and grass. The sooner we’re shot of this place, the better.”
Overnight, the breeze freshened into a stiff wind blowing directly off the water, but soon after sunrise Lopex had us push the ship into the shallows anyway. As the men began to pull their oars, the wind picked up until it was whipping spray off the waves, even in the bay. At full row, the ship was making no headway. “Navigator! Change course!” shouted Lopex. “Angle us away from the wind!”
Cursed by the Sea God Page 12