The Gates Of Troy Part 15

This time even the combined voices of Odysseus and Eperitus could not drag the men back to their seats, as each warrior moved to the prow to gaze in stunned awe at the great armada before them. The whole bay was filled with warships, their black hulls anch.o.r.ed so closely together that a man could almost walk from one sh.o.r.eline to the other.

'Zeus's beard,' Menelaus whispered, his eyes filling with tears.

'There must be hundreds of them,' exclaimed Eurybates.

'It's just as I saw in my dream,' Calchas added, standing with the others and surveying the forest of masts.

'Look at the hillsides,' Eperitus said. 'All those tents. There must be thousands of soldiers up there.'

'Tens of thousands,' Odysseus corrected. 'And look! There're the dolphin sails of Ithaca. Bring in the sail!'

A great cheer greeted them as Odysseus steered the ship into a gap between the other eleven galleys of the Ithacan fleet. Men flooded out from the camp on the hillside, rushing down to the sandy beach where the beak of the ship slid to a halt. Suddenly men were leaping down from the sides of the galley and dashing through the knee-deep water to greet their comrades.

As Odysseus and Eperitus waded through the surf to the sh.o.r.e their countrymen cheering them and slapping their shoulders as they pa.s.sed they saw Eurylochus waiting beneath the shade of a sycamore tree. He was pink with the heat of the late-spring day, and his fat jowls and forehead glistened with a film of sweat.

'Thank the G.o.ds you've returned,' he said, embracing his cousin and ignoring Eperitus. 'It's been five weeks since you left for Troy we were beginning to fear the worst.'

'It's simply a long way,' Odysseus answered, sitting down against the broad trunk of the tree and accepting a krater of wine from a soldier. 'Has much happened in our absence?'

Eurylochus pointed to the ships in the bay. 'Only the gathering of the greatest fleet of ships in history! We were almost the first only King Nestor of Pylos was here before us and there's hardly been a day since that some contingent or other hasn't swelled our numbers. And you should see the men who've come! More warriors than I've ever seen before, and all the great oath-takers are among them. Great Ajax is here, with Little Ajax and Teucer, of course. Diomedes arrived last week, bringing Sthenelaus and Euryalus the Argonaut with him. Idomeneus alone brought eighty ships from Crete! Then there's Menestheus, Tlepolemos . . .'

'What about Achilles?' asked Palamedes, striding confidently up the beach with Menelaus. He had been a subdued presence during the voyage from Troy even though Odysseus had made no mention of the events in Priam's throne room, realizing that the Nauplian had been acting under Agamemnon's orders but seemed to be rapidly regaining his old arrogance and self-importance now that he was back on land.

'Not yet,' Eurylochus replied, giving Palamedes an equally haughty stare. 'And n.o.body knows where he is. Some say he is in hiding, but others say he didn't take the oath so isn't under any obligation.'

'They're wrong on that point,' said Menelaus. 'His cousin Patroclus took the oath on his behalf.'

'And if the rumours about him are true, he'd come whether he was bound to or not,' Eperitus added. 'One thing's for certain: he won't be hiding.'

'We'll see about that,' Odysseus said, shutting his eyes and resting his head against the gnarled bark. 'Is my tent ready, Eurylochus? And how about something to eat for Menelaus, Eperitus and myself not forgetting Palamedes, of course?'

'We've just sacrificed a goat. It'll be cooked by the time you've washed the brine from your limbs and changed your clothes.'

'We'll refrain,' Menelaus said, though the smell of meat roasting over a nearby fire brought the saliva flooding into his mouth. 'I have to find my brother and let him know we're back. Where's his camp, Eurylochus?'

'On the highest point overlooking the bay you can see his banner on the hillside, up there.'

'And don't be long yourself, Odysseus,' Menelaus called over his shoulder, as he and Palamedes headed towards a path that led up the wooded hillside beyond the beach. 'He'll want to speak to you, too, no doubt.'

Odysseus simply shut his eyes and thought of a plate of freshly roasted goats' meat.

News of the return from Troy spread rapidly and soon the Ithacan camp was besieged by soldiers from every state in Greece, seeking information about the Trojans and their fabled city. As the different Greek armies had spent the previous weeks practising their drills and tactics alongside or against each other, many of the men were greeted as friends and encouraged to share the Ithacans' food and wine. And thus the rumours grew of the una.s.sailable walls of Troy, with its beetling towers and vast armies, and of the great riches that lay within for any who could raze it to the ground.

Before long, Agamemnon's squire, Talthybius, arrived at the camp with a summons for Odysseus and Eperitus. They were to leave their weapons behind and come to a council of the Greek kings, where the news from Troy was to be discussed and decisions made on what action to take. Odysseus asked Calchas, who had remained with the Ithacans, to come with them.

The path up the hillside was a steep one, but by now it was late afternoon and the heat of the day could no longer be felt under the dense canopy of trees, where the air was cool and fresh with the smell of pine. This made for a pleasant walk, though Eperitus quickly found Calchas's company irksome: he often fell behind, and when they waited for him to catch up he would mutter endlessly under his breath. Before long they could smell the smoke from numerous cooking fires, drifting down the hill from the main camp above, and almost taste the roast pork on their tongues. A hubbub of conversation followed it, growing steadily louder until the woodland gloom gave way to patches of slanted light and, suddenly, they were free of the trees and standing atop a high, rocky plateau with a marvellous view of the vast fleet below them to their right. Even Talthybius, who had seen the sight many times by now, had to stop and admire the black silhouettes of the ships floating like coals on a sea of fire. In the west the sky was a brilliant, unblemished sheet of copper, glowing fiercely in the light of the bloated, dying sun. Beneath it, stretching over the boulder-strewn hilltop, were hundreds upon hundreds of white tents, reminding Eperitus of the flocks of seabirds that would gather on the craggy cliff faces of Ithaca. They snapped and fluttered in the wind, as did the flags and pennants of the many different kings that streamed out above them.

'This way, my lords,' said Talthybius, leading them down an avenue that drove through the middle of the canvas city.

There were soldiers everywhere. Some wore armour, though most did not, and all carried weapons of some kind spears over their shoulders or swords hanging from baldrics or tucked into their belts. The majority were cooking or eating, though some were busily burnishing their bronze armour to a high sheen, or drawing whetstones up and down blades to sharpen them to a deadly edge. Occasionally, the laughter or cry of a woman indicated that prost.i.tutes were plying their trade amongst the army.

Talthybius, however, did not take them deeper into the camp as they had expected, but suddenly led them down another wide avenue that went back towards the straits. As they were pa.s.sing a crescent of large tents, Eteoneus, the squire of Menelaus, emerged, followed by three others.

'Odysseus?' said one of the men. 'Odysseus, is that you?'

Odysseus turned to see a tall man of thirty years or so, athletically built and dressed in a grey tunic and dark green cloak. His long, auburn hair was pulled back over his scalp and tied at the nape of his neck, revealing a handsome and intelligent face. Despite the fact that he wore no armour and did not carry any weapons, the brown scar across his clean-shaven cheek marked him as an experienced warrior.

'Diomedes!' Odysseus exclaimed, breaking into a broad smile. He seized the man's hand and pulled him into a fierce embrace, which they held for a long time as they thumped each other's backs and exchanged friendly greetings.

'I hear you and Menelaus have been in Troy, talking peace and other such nonsense,' said the king of the Argives. 'Tell me you failed!'

'You'll hear my report when I give it to the council you're heading there, too, I a.s.sume. Have you been in this place long? What's the hunting like?'

'Good plenty of woodland beyond the camp, full of deer. But stop trying to change the subject. Tell me about Troy what's it like? Will we take it at the first a.s.sault, or is Priam going to put up a fight?'

'Forget Priam. It's his son, Hector, we need to worry about. Anyway, you'll have to wait until . . .'

'And what about Helen?' Diomedes continued, his voice a.s.suming a more serious tone. 'Did you see her?'

Diomedes had lost his heart to Helen when he first set eyes on her ten years before, and despite taking a wife since then it was clear he still loved her.

'No, Diomedes, I didn't see her. Now, will you stop heaping questions on me and introduce your companions?'

Diomedes gave an apologetic nod and stepped between the two men, placing a hand on each of their shoulders.

'This is my friend, Sthenelaus, son of Capaneus,' he began, indicating the man to his right. 'We sacked the city of Thebes together in vengeance for our fathers, and now I've asked him to rule the Argive army in my place, if I should fall.'

Sthenelaus's hair was a ma.s.s of black curls and his thick beard covered half of his hardened, bitter-looking face. He gave a curt nod in response to Odysseus's smile.

'And this is Euryalus the Argonaut, son of Mecisteus. He was also with us when we conquered Thebes.'

Euryalus was a small man, several years older than his companions, with long, white hair and a closely cropped beard. His red face broke into a pleasant smile as he shook Odysseus's hand.

'You remember Eperitus, captain of my royal guard,' Odysseus said, turning back to Diomedes.

'Glad you're with us, Eperitus,' Diomedes said, taking his hand. 'And your other companion?'

'I'm afraid that introduction will have to wait until the council,' Odysseus said. 'And we shouldn't keep our royal comrades waiting any longer. Talthybius?'

The Mycenaean herald, who had been talking patiently to Eteoneus, gave a small bow before turning and leading the way through the field of flapping canvas. Diomedes walked beside Odysseus and threw a muscle-bound arm about his shoulders.

'So, I hear you're a king now. You look like it, too: majestic appearance, powerful bearing, grey hair . . .'

'Thanks. I wish I could say the same for you, but you look as young and handsome as you did ten years ago.'

'Listen, have you spoken to Agamemnon yet?' Diomedes asked, lowering his voice confidentially.

'I spoke to him the night before we left for Troy,' Odysseus replied, surprised by the sudden change of direction. 'But not since we arrived at Aulis. Is something wrong?'

'I'm not sure. I've been his friend for a long time and I know him well, but since all this business started with Helen and Troy . . . well, he seems different.'

'Concerned, perhaps?' Odysseus suggested. 'Or pressured? It's understandable.'

'Perhaps. But you'll be able to judge for yourself soon.'

And with that he would say no more.

Chapter Sixteen.

THE COUNCIL OF KINGS.

They heard the clamour of voices long before they reached the edge of the camp. After they pa.s.sed the last tent, Talthybius and Eteoneus led them through a belt of sycamore trees to a pair of tall, grim-looking standing stones, placed there by an ancient people long since forgotten. These formed the gateway to a large, natural amphitheatre that opened out to the east, giving a view over the crowded bay far below. They walked out into the midst of at least a hundred kings and other n.o.bility, who were crammed on benches around the rocky slopes of the arena, talking noisily.

Odysseus, Diomedes and Eperitus recognized many of them from the courtship of Helen in Sparta. Most prominent was Great Ajax, the king of Salamis, whose vast bulk took up most of the bench he was sitting on. On his left the ant.i.thesis of the giant warrior was his half-brother, Teucer the archer, who sat twitching and blinking like an owl and constantly wiping his large nose on the back of his hand. To Ajax's right was his namesake, Little Ajax, so called for his short stature and to distinguish him from his t.i.tanic friend. To Eperitus's disdain, he saw that the man's pet snake a hideous brown serpent with a long, pink tongue that constantly darted from its scaly mouth was coiled about his shoulders. Its master fixed Odysseus with a sneering look and spat into the dirt.

Odysseus, who had not forgotten their contest for the hand of Penelope, chose to ignore the Locrian king and looked about at the other familiar faces on the benches. Menestheus, king of Athens, was seated beside Idomeneus of Crete; both were handsome and richly dressed, with n.o.ble looks that befitted the great power each man wielded. King Elphenor was there, who ruled over the island of Euboea on the opposite side of the straits, as were Agapenor, king of Arcadia, Tlepolemos, king of Rhodes, Iolaus, king of Phylake, and many other renowned names. Among the lesser men were Palamedes, seated on the bench nearest Agamemnon, and Philoctetes of Malia, son of Poeas. The last time Odysseus and Eperitus had seen the latter, he was a young shepherd boy who had been awarded the magical bow and arrows of Heracles for agreeing to light the great hero's funeral pyre; now he was a tall, lean young man with a chaotic mop of light brown hair and a wispy beard on his chin. But he was not the only one who had changed in the past decade. Some of the former suitors to Helen had aged visibly; others seemed to have grown in stature; still more had grown in other ways, allowing their bellies to expand through overindulgence and too little fighting.

At the far end of the basin were the Atreides brothers, Agamemnon and Menelaus, seated on high-backed wooden chairs. Unlike the rest of the council, they watched the newcomers in stony silence. Agamemnon, to Eperitus's surprise, looked as if he had not slept for days: there were dark circles under his eyes, which were bloodshot and heavy-lidded, and his usually meticulous hair was unkempt. More shocking was the way his rich clothes seemed to hang about him. Agamemnon had always boasted a well-fed, athletic physique, similar to the other warriors gathered about the arena, but in the time they had been away on the mission to Troy the Mycenaean king had become drawn and thin.

Standing at Agamemnon's shoulder was an old man wearing a purple cloak and a golden belt that glittered in the warm evening light. King Nestor of Pylos wore his grey hair short and kept his beard neatly trimmed; though not a tall man, he boasted a powerful physique and the hard-bitten aspect of a seasoned warrior. His nose had been broken in some battle or boxing match of the past, and the top of one of his large, disc-like ears had been sliced off many years before by an opponent's sword. Like the Atreides brothers, he had his eyes fixed on the newcomers as they stood in the centre of the arena.

Though not one member of the council had been allowed to bring their weapons a wise precaution in view of the arguments that often occurred between n.o.bility a dozen heavily armed soldiers stood behind the Atreides brothers, with one more by each of the standing stones, guarding the entrance to the meeting. They were clearly an elite, probably from Agamemnon's personal guard, who were dressed in ceremonial armour of an antiquated style unfamiliar to Odysseus and Eperitus. Their highly polished bronze breastplates were supplemented by further bands around the stomach and waist, as well as shoulder-pieces and neckguards that rose above the chin. On their heads they wore domed leather helmets with cheekpieces tied beneath the chin. Horsehair plumes sprouted from the top and fell across the back of the neck, while rows of boars' tusks covered the helmet to give both ornamentation and protection. They wore inlaid greaves over their shins and carried tall, ox-hide shields with an outer layer of polished bronze that gleamed fiercely in the light of the setting sun. Their spears, swords, axes and daggers stood as a reminder to the gathered kings that, though this was a council of equals, Agamemnon still held the greatest wealth and power.

Agamemnon nodded to Talthybius, who beat his stave three times on the ground.

'My lords,' the herald announced in a strong, clear voice that commanded silence from everyone gathered, 'I present King Odysseus of Ithaca, son of Laertes, and King Diomedes of Argos, son of Tydeus.'

'Please take your seats,' said Agamemnon, pointing to an empty bench by one of the standing stones. 'Talthybius the wine, please.'

The herald nodded to a steward, who clapped his hands twice. Immediately a swarm of slaves appeared from the line of trees that topped the lip of the amphitheatre, bringing kraters of diluted wine to the members of the council. As soon as each man had been served, Agamemnon stood and raised his cup in both hands, tipping a small amount into the dirt at his feet.

'Most glorious and mighty Zeus, Lord of High Heaven, father of the G.o.ds, grant us clear minds as we debate the future of Troy, and if this mighty fleet is to sail with vengeance to the sh.o.r.es of Ilium, give us the wisdom to choose a single leader, one who will unite the Greeks against our common enemy and lead them to certain and uncompromising victory. Now is the time for men to act, for better or worse, and I call upon you to witness the oaths that we take today and see that they are kept.'

Agamemnon drained the rest of the wine and handed the krater to his steward. The other members of the council stood as one and poured their own libations, offering silent prayers to whichever of the G.o.ds they honoured most. Eperitus, like Odysseus and Diomedes next to him, prayed to Athena, and after his few words asking the G.o.ddess to ensure there would be war against Troy sat back down.

He adjusted the thick cushion that had been handed to him by a slave and turned to look at Agamemnon. The king sat back in his chair and rested his chin on a fist, his golden breastplate reflecting the purple skies above and his red cloak turning scarlet in the dimming twilight. His tired blue eyes surveyed the faces of the men crowded on the rows of benches, dispa.s.sionately a.s.sessing whether they were for the war or against it. Agamemnon's cold demeanour had not thawed in the ten years since Eperitus had first met him, and the shadow of exhaustion resting on him did not seem to have reduced his ability to disguise his feelings beneath a remote exterior.

'Brother,' Agamemnon said, turning to Menelaus. His voice was soft but clear, and the few conversations that continued quickly died away at the sound of it, leaving the amphitheatre hushed and expectant. 'Brother, for the sake of those who don't yet know, take the floor and recount for us what happened in Troy.'

'With pleasure,' Menelaus growled, walking out to the middle of the arena and facing the gathered Greeks with his fists firmly on his hips. 'Palamedes, Odysseus and I have just returned from Troy. Against my better judgement, I allowed Odysseus to persuade me into seeking the return of my wife and son through diplomacy, even though I've been itching to wash my spear in Trojan blood ever since Paris stole my family from me.' The Spartan king held his shaking fists out before him and received a murmur of approval from the benches. 'But despite our peaceful intentions, they treated us like a pack of curs. Priam this fornicating old lecher the Trojans call their king made us wait a whole day before he'd see us. Us kings and princes of Greece! We slept the night outside the walls of the citadel, in the home of a Trojan elder, and when Priam finally allowed us into his presence, he didn't even ask our names or our business in Troy. I had to tell him the purpose of our mission myself, and then they nearly killed us!'

'Foreign dogs!' Ajax boomed, giving rise to a chorus of angry shouts from the other kings and n.o.bles.

'If I'd known how these Trojans treated their guests,' Menelaus continued, raising his voice above the others, 'I wouldn't have listened to all this talk of diplomatic solutions. As far as I can see, the only diplomacy the Trojans understand is at the end of a bronze-tipped spear!'

There was a great roar of approval from the audience, a sound that brought a smile to Eperitus's lips and made the blood pound through his veins. Powerful voices were shouting for the fleet to sail immediately and for Troy to be crushed, though as the Ithacan captain looked around at the many faces he saw some that were silent and thoughtful. Then Odysseus rose from the bench beside him and walked out to stand beside Menelaus, who, after revelling in the tumult for a few moments longer, eventually returned to his seat.

Odysseus waited patiently for the last cheer to die away, then held his hands up.

'Well, friends,' he began, 'I think we can put any ideas of a peaceful solution behind us. I may have been the one who suggested a tactful approach, but let me say this there are none among you keener for war than I am now!'

Eperitus looked at his king with surprise, wondering at his sudden and suspicious change of mind. All around him the benches erupted once more with belligerent glee, as great-voiced kings vied to outdo each other in their anti-Trojan fervour. Again Odysseus waited for silence to return before holding out the palms of his hands.

'And why should a man of peace suddenly want war? Well, a peace mission can have more than a single purpose. Menelaus our great friend who beat us all to the hand of Helen may think I was wasting my time with all this talk of diplomacy, but can he deny that we now know the strength of Troy's army? Or the number of her warships waiting in the great bay before the city walls? Or the size of that bay and its openness to attack? What about the breadth of the surrounding plain, and its capacity to support an invading army? Not to mention the ability of the walls, towers and gates of Troy to withstand a siege? Who of you would know the strengths and weaknesses of that city, and how best to attack it if we hadn't been there already and sized the place up for you?'

Odysseus paused as the men before him murmured among themselves, some nodding in quiet approval of the Ithacan's great foresight. Eperitus, of course, knew differently, and could only admire his king's ability to turn a situation to his advantage.

'And let me make it clear to you, Troy will not fall in a day, or a week, or maybe even a year. The city's walls are strong, tall and in good repair they won't fall to anything less than the most determined of attacks. Those of you who think we'll storm in like Heracles with his six ships are going to be disappointed. And the armies of Priam and his allies haven't allowed their swords to rust or their bellies to expand as we have. While we Greeks have been enjoying the fruits of peace, the Trojans have been mustering their forces to attack us!'

Odysseus paused for a third time, waiting for the shock of his news to die away before continuing.

'But let no man think these Trojans will prove easy opponents. They'll be ready for us, and what's more, they'll be defending their homeland. If we attack too soon, without proper preparations, then we'll pay the price. My advice is that we should treat them with respect and caution, and build up our forces slowly and professionally over a year or two . . .'

'To Hades with caution!' thundered Ajax, making Teucer jump beside him. 'I say we launch at dawn and take b.l.o.o.d.y revenge to their walls! Look at the army we've gathered! Look at the fleet at anchor down there! What reason do we have to be cautious? Let's slay the men and take their women and gold for ourselves. Nothing else matters!'

The ranks of warriors, who had fallen silent at the thought of long preparations, now gave a huge shout of enthusiasm, but before Odysseus could respond a man stood on one of the higher rows and wagged his finger accusingly at the gigantic warrior.

'I'd heard you were a buffoon, Ajax, and now I know it's true.'

Suddenly the arena fell silent and every face turned to look at the speaker. Last of all, Ajax turned his head and looked up with disbelieving eyes. But instead of finding himself opposed by a powerful king, he was greeted instead by the deformed features of a hunchback. One eye was lost in a tight squint, but the other bulged out in a ferocious stare that roamed from face to face.

'In fact,' the hunchback croaked, 'judging by all the oafish cheering, I'd be surprised if there are enough brains in this arena to fill a helmet.'

'Shut up!' called a voice.

'Sit down, Thersites!' cried another.

But the hunchback was not to be deterred. 'All this talk of war! If Agamemnon and Menelaus want to fight the Trojans, then let them! And they can take that great yob Ajax with them.'

Ajax stood, his face flushed and his bunched fists shaking with anger, but Agamemnon signalled for him to resume his seat.

'What need do the rest of us have for war?' Thersites continued, scratching the tufts of hair on his cone-shaped head as if confused. 'What do we care for Troy? Don't we have our own homes and families to protect?' At this there was a rumble of agreement from some of the benches. 'And what will our reward be if we go? Have you asked yourselves how the plunder will be shared? Then let me tell you the richest pickings to the Atreides brothers, and the sc.r.a.ps for the rest of us!'

'Silence, you deformed fool!' Agamemnon shouted, jumping to his feet, his cool facade suddenly and shockingly broken. 'This is a council of kings, not of commoners, and if you can't hold your tongue in front of your superiors then I'll have it cut out and fed to my dogs. Do you understand?'

Thersites's whole body quaked before Agamemnon's unexpected rage, and his vulture-like eye twitched in fear as he shrank back down among his Aetolian countrymen.

Agamemnon now waved Odysseus back to his chair and walked out into the middle of the arena. He had regained much of his usual composure, but Eperitus felt there was still a darkness about his face that hinted at his ruffled emotions.

'Fellow Greeks!' he said, his voice calm once more. 'Have we not already heard from my brother how he was thrown out of Troy like a beggar, and from Odysseus of how the Trojans have been preparing to bring war to our sh.o.r.es news even to my ears? Are we not here today because a Greek queen has been abducted from her bed by a Trojan prince? These things alone are enough to demand war, and yet there remain voices of dissent. I don't talk of the protests of one ignorant man, but of the nods and the mumbled agreements that accompanied them. Why, then, should you leave your homes to fight a distant foe, beyond the reasons I have already stated? Let me tell you.

'First, no Greek state has made war on another since the Epigoni laid waste to Thebes ten years ago. As a result, our industries thrive, our merchants sell Greek goods all over the known world, our people are well fed and peace reigns. But such peace brings its own problems, as I said it would when I first proposed a raid against Troy a decade ago. We pay our armies to do nothing, and they in turn are restless. They want war what warrior doesn't thirst for the very thing that defines him? And they want plunder, the true wages of a fighting man. So should we return to the old days of fighting each other brother against brother, father against son?'