The Gates Of Troy

by Iliffe, Glyn

  This time Hector and Priam did not pretend to wait for Idaeus’s translation.

  ‘What?’ Hector exclaimed in Greek, standing and staring at Odysseus through the haze thrown up by the hearth. ‘He wouldn’t dare!’

  A moment later he was joined by the rest of the assembly, who after listening to Idaeus’s translation again left their seats and cried out as one in protest against the accusation.

  ‘No son of mine would do such a thing,’ said Priam, also in Greek, as he stepped down from the dais to stand next to Hector. ‘Kidnap a royal queen? He’s a prince and a warrior, and he is loyal to the will of his father. It’s just not possible!’

  ‘It’s true,’ said Menelaus, lifting his face from his hands and talking with deep despondency. ‘He was a guest in my home and swore a sacred oath of friendship to me, but the very night I went on a journey to Crete he stole Helen from me and took my lad, Pleisthenes, too.’

  ‘By all the sacred gods of Ilium!’ Priam exclaimed, leaning against Hector. ‘He can’t have!’

  ‘He has,’ Odysseus confirmed. ‘And throughout Greece the storm clouds are gathering. Unless Helen is returned, there will be war.’

  This statement was greeted by more angry muttering from the Trojans, and in the buzz of voices Eperitus signalled to one of the slaves to bring wine. As the man began refilling his half-empty goblet, Eperitus moved to the seat beside Palamedes.

  ‘Fill this, too,’ he ordered, taking Palamedes’s goblet and passing it to the slave. Palamedes, who was growing more agitated as his eyes flicked between Odysseus and Priam, hardly seemed to notice Eperitus’s presence beside him.

  ‘Paris is not here,’ Priam said again, in a loud voice. ‘How do we know you’re telling us the truth until we speak to him? For all we know, Helen may have left willingly.’

  Menelaus lifted his head sharply and there was anger in his eyes, but Odysseus spoke first.

  ‘We have taken you at your word, my lords, and accept that Paris has not yet returned to Troy; you must also take our word and believe that Menelaus’s wife was abducted by your son. I can understand why you might doubt me – a foreigner who comes to your city with the threat of war on his tongue – so instead I ask you to look at this man.’

  Odysseus moved to stand behind Menelaus’s chair. His eyes rested briefly on Eperitus, who raised Palamedes’s goblet and poured the powder into it. Odysseus smiled and gave a subtle wink, before turning and placing his hands on the Spartan’s shoulders.

  ‘I’ve known this man for ten years,’ he told the assembled Trojans, ‘ever since the best of the Greeks gathered to pay court to the most beautiful woman in the world – Helen of Sparta. And of all the great men she could have chosen from – Diomedes, Ajax, Idomeneus and many more – she picked the greatest of us all, Menelaus. But look at him now, a ruin of his former self, destroyed by the loss of his wife. Could a man feign the rage and despair you yourselves have witnessed in him?’

  He paused for Idaeus to translate his words, and as the Trojans discussed what Odysseus had said, Eperitus placed Palamedes’s goblet of wine on the table before him.

  ‘What do you think?’ he asked in a low voice. ‘Will they agree to return Helen?’

  Palamedes’s eyelids were heavy with wine and his eyes unfocused. ‘Can’t be sure, but Hector’s certainly angry with Paris. He told Priam this is going to ruin everything he’s planned for.’

  ‘How could you know that?’ Eperitus asked, suddenly attentive. ‘Every word they’ve spoken to each other has been in their own language.’

  ‘My nursemaid was a Trojan slave, captured in a raid,’ Palamedes answered. ‘She taught me her language when I was a child, and I’ve been able to understand almost every word I’ve heard since arriving here.’

  ‘Then why didn’t you tell us that before?’ Eperitus snapped, feeling his temper rise at the sight of Palamedes’s smug grin.

  But at that moment Odysseus held up his hands for silence. ‘Even if you don’t care for the suffering of this man,’ he continued, patting Menelaus’s shoulders, ‘even if your desire is to support Paris, regardless of whether Helen was taken from Sparta or left willingly, then think of the wider consequences. You’re all noblemen and many of you have royal blood in your veins. If you condone the abduction of a queen – Helen was not taken as a spoil of war like Hesione was, remember – you are saying that such acts are acceptable. Then where will you be? Moral standards will falter. The gods will abandon you. If in times of peace men are allowed to think that royal women are there to be plucked like apples from a tree, or women come to believe they are free to choose their lovers, how will you protect your own families? What’s more, how will you ever be sure that your children are truly yours? Do you want to raise the bastard sons of others as your own and let them inherit what is not theirs? If you do not give Helen back to Menelaus when Paris returns, then you will be responsible for the doom that follows!’

  Odysseus’s final sentence rang ominously through the silent hall. Eperitus could see by the looks on the faces of the Trojans that his words had hit their mark, but in the moments of quiet that followed all he could think of was the warning given to him by Calchas. What if the priest was right and peace now would only open the way to a Trojan invasion of Greece? Were these the plans Palamedes had overheard Hector talking of? And if so, would they ultimately lead to the conquest of Ithaca and the destruction of everything Odysseus held most precious? He watched Priam and Hector leaning into each other and whispering urgently, and wondered whether the fearsome Trojan prince was thinking of how to keep the Greeks from attacking Ilium before his own plans could come to fruition.

  ‘Your king speaks well,’ Palamedes said, reaching for the drugged goblet. ‘Too well for the good of Greece.’

  Eperitus watched the man’s fingers curl around the stem of the cup. He thought for a moment then hooked his foot around Palamedes’s chair and pulled it backwards. Palamedes grabbed the table in an attempt to regain his balance, knocking the cup to the floor with a clang. Odysseus turned to see the dark wine spreading over the flagstones, and the confident gleam in his eye wavered. A moment later Hector spoke.

  ‘My father and I have come to an agreement. In view of Menelaus’s anger with my brother we think it wise that he returns to Sparta as soon as practical. However, as we intend to give his wife back to him’ – Menelaus raised his head at these words, his eyes wide, almost disbelieving – ‘we invite you, Odysseus, to remain here until Paris returns so that you can escort her back to Greece. Regardless of why Helen is with Paris – and we do not yet accept she was taken against her will – we agree with Odysseus and don’t want to set a precedent. Is this agreeable?’

  ‘No,’ said Palamedes, rising unsteadily to his feet. ‘No it isn’t. My friend has spoken truly, for it’s a vile crime to steal a man’s wife, but there is also the matter of compensation.’

  ‘Sit down, you fool,’ Odysseus commanded, his voice stern. ‘Sit down before I knock you down.’

  ‘Yes, sit down Palamedes,’ Menelaus agreed.

  ‘I will not sit down! You may think, Hector, that Troy can escape its crime by returning Helen, but Agamemnon, Menelaus’s brother and the most powerful of all the Greeks, does not. He demands that Priam pay compensation.’

  There was an ugly muttering from amongst the ranks of Trojan nobles. Priam’s face was like stone, and Hector’s expression was dark and menacing.

  ‘Go on,’ he said, slowly. ‘Name your demands.’

  ‘There are no demands,’ Odysseus insisted.

  ‘Agamemnon feels that, as Paris will almost certainly have violated Helen and made the atrocity more heinous, Menelaus’s suffering cannot be measured by financial compensation alone. He therefore demands an annual tribute in copper, timber, wool and slaves – the exact amounts to be negotiated – as well as the handing over of three Trojan cities: one for himself, one for Menelaus and the third for Odysseus . . .’

  ‘You lying dog!’ Odysseus shouted,
springing towards Palamedes with his fists raised.

  Eperitus quickly flung himself between the two men.

  ‘Fighting Palamedes won’t help!’ he hissed, placing the flats of his hands against the king’s chest as Palamedes retreated behind him.

  ‘So that was your intention all along, was it?’ Priam crowed, standing on the royal dais and shaking his fist at Odysseus. ‘A city of your own in payment for the return of Helen and the humbling of Troy. Do you think we would ever have agreed to such terms?’

  A silver cup was thrown from amidst the mob of angry officials, hitting Odysseus on the back. Another glanced off his arm, followed by a torrent of abuse. Eperitus stepped in front of his king and looked quickly about the room as more cups, plates and pieces of food were thrown at them. An armed warrior stood at each exit, but the remainder were already closing in on the Greeks, their spear-points lowered threateningly. It would still be possible to rush the soldiers before they could bring their weapons to bear, Eperitus thought, but even if they overpowered them and took their spears and shields, it was unlikely that they could fight their way out of the city and back across the plain to their ship. Escape was impossible.

  ‘I say we should kill them,’ said a short man with a crooked nose and pointed beard. ‘If Paris has taken this man’s wife, then let’s do away with him now and at least then the Greeks will have no further claim on the woman!’

  There was a murmur of agreement, but then a voice called out from the crowd.

  ‘Peace, my friends! Sit down! Don’t let Antimachus’s words add fuel to your anger. Remember these men are our guests and under the protection of Zeus himself. If you harm them, you defy the gods and bring judgement upon yourselves!’

  It was Antenor. He had forced his way through the closing circle of Trojans to stand with his arms aloft between them and the outnumbered Greeks. His countrymen shouted at the old man and told him to stand aside, but advanced no further. Then Hector appeared, clearing a passage through the throng to stand face to face with Odysseus.

  ‘You insult us with your deceit, Odysseus. If I was free to do as I pleased, I’d tear you to pieces right now with my own hands. But Antenor is right: you remain guests here, and I’ll not bring the wrath of the gods down on Troy by killing you.’

  Odysseus met the Trojan’s stormy gaze without flinching. ‘You’re a fool, Hector. We came to offer you the chance of righting the wrong Paris has done, but from the moment of our arrival you chose to treat us with hostility. Now, if you really respect the will of the gods, you’ll let us return to our ship unmolested.’

  ‘I’ll make sure you’re escorted back in safety,’ Hector replied, sternly. ‘Have no fear of that. But once you’ve left our waters, I advise you never to return. If you do, you’ll find us ready for you.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  THE GATHERING AT AULIS

  They all knew they had been fortunate to escape from Troy alive. The hostility in Priam’s throne room was nothing compared with the anger that awaited them on the streets of the city. By the time they had rejoined Antiphus, Polites and Arceisius and marched out of the citadel gates, they found a large mob had already assembled beyond the walls, armed with rocks, lumps of wood and even a few spears. Only the escort of a hundred warriors enabled the Greeks to reach the Scaean Gate unharmed, and it was not until they felt the gentle motion of the Ithacan warship beneath their feet once more that they could finally relax.

  The relief of being free of Troy gave each of them a sense of calm. Palamedes sat in the prow, his arms crossed over his knees and his chin resting on his forearm staring blankly ahead of himself. Menelaus joined the three guardsmen on the benches and took hold of one of the polished oars, pulling quietly in time with the rest of the crew as Eurybates steered the ship out of the harbour. What he was thinking as he looked over his shoulder at the high citadel no man could tell. Odysseus and Eperitus withdrew to the stern, from where they looked back in silence at the broad plain with its scattered farmsteads and flocks of sheep, its corralled horses and the city of tents by the mouth of the Simo¨eis. It all seemed so peaceful as they watched the walls of the citadel turn pink in the light of the lowering sun.

  As the ship slipped back out to sea and Troy was lost behind the wooded headland, Antiphus brought Calchas to the king. He had arrived shortly before Odysseus’s return and surrendered himself to the crew, insisting he had information that would be of use to the Greeks.

  ‘What information?’ Odysseus asked the hooded priest, whom he had recognized immediately.

  ‘What I have to say is for all the kings of Greece together, or none at all.’

  ‘Why don’t you tell it to the fish, then,’ Odysseus responded, grabbing a fistful of Calchas’s robes and almost carrying him to the side of the ship. The man’s hood slipped back to reveal his bald head and pale, drawn features.

  ‘Wait!’ Eperitus shouted, rushing over and grabbing Calchas’s arm, fearing that in the mood he was in Odysseus would cast him overboard without a second thought. ‘If he says he has information then we should trust him. When he spoke to me in Priam’s palace he told me things about myself that only you and I know. He knew about the powder you gave me, Odysseus, and he even knows about the gathering at Aulis. He’s a seer like none I’ve ever come across, other than the Pythoness herself. Calchas,’ he added, turning to the cowering priest, ‘I don’t know what this other information you have is, but at least tell Odysseus what you told me in the throne room.’

  Odysseus pinned Calchas against the side of the ship, where clouds of spray soaked his clothing and formed into watery beads that trickled off his hairless scalp.

  ‘Tell me what you know, Trojan, or you can swim to Greece instead.’

  ‘Hector has been preparing Troy for war against Greece,’ Calchas stuttered. ‘The galleys you saw in the bay, the army camped on the plain – they’re just the beginning.’

  ‘Then he knew we were gathering our forces for an attack, even before we arrived?’ asked Menelaus, who had overheard the conversation from the benches and come to stand behind Eperitus.

  ‘No, my lord, he had no idea you were coming. But he has dreamt of invading Greece for many years, waiting patiently while his father’s power waned and his own influence grew. Now, with peace on the northern borders, he feels his time is approaching.’

  ‘But why would Hector want to invade Greece?’ asked Odysseus.

  ‘For the same reason Agamemnon wants to conquer Troy,’ Calchas replied. ‘A stranglehold on the Aegean and all the trade that flows across it.’

  ‘My brother wants the return of Helen,’ Menelaus said, with slow menace in his voice.

  ‘Don’t delude yourself about what your brother wants, Menelaus,’ Calchas retorted, his face convulsing unconsciously under the glare of the Spartan king. ‘For years Mycenae has been spreading its trade routes like a web across the Aegean; and where merchants lead the way warriors eventually follow.’

  ‘Why tell us this, Calchas?’ Odysseus asked, releasing his grip on the man’s robes and helping him to stand as upright as his stooped form would allow. ‘You’re a Trojan, after all.’

  ‘Because Apollo has ordered it,’ Calchas said with a shrug. ‘And now, if you’re satisfied, I’d like a drink.’

  Odysseus ordered a skin of wine to be brought for the strange priest, who sat facing the benches and staring at the sailors as he drank. His unflinching gaze made them uneasy, and even with their backs turned they could feel his eyes boring into them.

  ‘He’s an odd one,’ Odysseus commented later, as he sat with Eperitus in the stern and watched Calchas get progressively drunker.

  ‘But useful.’

  Odysseus gave a sidelong glance at Menelaus, who lay snoring against the side of the ship.

  ‘What else did he say to you in the throne room, Eperitus?’

  Eperitus felt a sudden sensation of guilt overwhelming him, as if Odysseus knew every detail of the conversation with Calchas and was aware that
the captain of his guard had betrayed him. But Eperitus also knew from long experience that Odysseus often tried to give the impression of knowing more than he did – a trick by which he would draw his victims out and make them reveal all sorts of secrets to him. It was impossible that the king could know Calchas had asked Eperitus to foil his plans for the peaceful return of Helen, and that he had caused Palamedes to spill the drugged wine. Odysseus was clever, of course, and knew there must be a reason why the priest had spoken to Eperitus first, but Eperitus guessed he was simply casting a line and seeing whether he could get a bite.

  ‘He said there are two secrets about me that I don’t yet know. He didn’t tell me what they are – and I don’t think he fully knows – but he said one will make me want to avoid war, while the other would compel me to return to Troy.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Odysseus mused. ‘I can’t imagine anything that would make you want to miss out on a chance of glory, but if such a thing exists then at least we’ll both be working to the same goal – a quick and peaceful resolution to this mess.’

  ‘Then you still think war can be stopped, even after what has just happened?’

  Odysseus leaned back against the rail and looked towards the western horizon. The sun had already slipped behind the outline of Lemnos and a pale moon was rising in the purple sky.

  ‘I’m only mortal, Eperitus. I don’t know what the Fates have in store for us, and as long as I remain ignorant of that then yes, I do believe this war can be averted. Things look dark right now, but opportunities will always present themselves. We just have to be ready for them.’

  ‘I don’t know where you get your optimism from,’ Eperitus rejoined, shaking his head. ‘What about the fleet in the harbour and the army on the plain? Calchas says that Hector will attack Greece sooner or later, and that eventually his armies will reach Ithaca too.’