The Oracles of Troy (The Adventures of Odysseus) (16 page)

Astynome moved closer so that her features were clearly visible in the gloom.

‘A few months ago I would have considered you vile, lower than the creatures that infest that pit over there. Now –’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Now I don’t see things in such simplistic terms. After all, I’m a traitor myself. My heart betrayed Troy for the sake of a Greek, and now he thinks I’ve betrayed him. But I’d gladly see Troy burn if it meant I could be with him again. So, you see, I’m in no place to judge you.’

Helenus considered her for a moment and realised there was more to the servant girl than her beauty. He also felt her words were spoken in honesty and that he could entrust his problems to her.

‘The truth is, I’m so angry I could do almost anything,’ he began. ‘When Priam awarded Helen to Deiphobus it was a deliberate humiliation, and as the gods are my witnesses I’d rather reveal the oracles to the Greeks than be forced to give them to my father and brother! I want to teach them a lesson they’ll remember, Astynome, but how can a lowly priest gain revenge against a warrior prince and a king? And yet, after tonight I don’t know whether I want Apheidas’s help.’

‘You’re right not to trust him. He wants Priam’s throne for himself and he’s only using you to remove the obstacles in his path. With Deiphobus dead, he would ensure the demise of your younger brothers before encouraging you to take the throne from your father. And then he would kill you and claim it for himself. That’s how his mind works, Helenus. What’s more, if you don’t agree to his proposal he’ll kill you and hide your body so it looks like you’ve run away in a fit of jealous anger.’

Helenus felt for the slender dagger tucked away beneath his robes and immediately knew it would be no use against a seasoned fighter like Apheidas. And yet the servant girl’s words rang true. He knew he would not walk out of the captain’s house alive unless he agreed on his oath to kill Deiphobus, thus starting a chain of events that would ultimately lead to his own death. Even if he told Deiphobus and his father of Apheidas’s plans, what proof would he have? How would he defend himself if Apheidas turned the accusation back against him? He looked again at the servant girl, and as her eyes met his he knew she understood his dilemma and had an answer in mind.

‘Then what should I do?’

‘Is your anger against Deiphobus and Priam genuine?’

‘Yes, but not enough to become Apheidas’s puppet.’

‘Then you must flee the city and go to the Greeks.’

‘The Greeks,’ he scoffed. ‘The Greeks will kill me, or just ransom me back to my father.’

Astynome shook her head.

‘Not if you do as I tell you. Over there is another door. It opens on to an alley that will take you out to the neighbouring temple. Find a horse, leave Pergamos and make your way out of the city. Ride to the Greek camp and demand to see Odysseus.’

‘The Ithacan? But what if he refuses to see me?’

‘He won’t. Not if you offer to tell him about the oracles I heard you speak of, the ones that hold the key to the destruction of Troy. Didn’t you say you’d rather give them to the Greeks than be forced to reveal them to Priam and Deiphobus? And won’t this give you the vengeance you were craving? Besides, Odysseus is an intelligent man, the cleverest of all the Greeks; he’ll see the importance of what you have to offer and give you whatever you want in exchange.’

Helenus pondered her words, sucking in his bottom lip as he eyed the girl’s dark beauty. He thought of Helen and his humiliation in the great hall, and then of the menacing figure of Apheidas, who would reappear at any moment and demand the answer to his question.

‘I should go at once,’ he said with a nod. ‘Your master won’t wait much longer.’

He moved towards the door Astynome had indicated, but she stepped in front of him and placed a hand on his chest.

‘I’ve helped you, Helenus, and now I want you to do something for me in return.’

‘What is it?’

‘When you see Odysseus, ask to speak to the captain of his guard – a man named Eperitus. Make sure Eperitus knows that it was me that sent you to the Greek camp, and that I encouraged you to entrust the oracles to them. That’s all.’

Helenus nodded and with a nervous glance over his shoulder ran to the door that led out to the temple of Apollo. As he reached it, he turned to look at Astynome.

‘This Eperitus,’ he asked. ‘Is he the Greek you fell in love with?’

Astynome nodded.

‘Then I will tell him you were prepared to give up Troy’s secrets for his sake. May the gods protect you, Astynome.’

T
HE
O
RACLES OF
T
ROY

E
peritus rode his mount up to the top of the ridge where the temple of Thymbrean Apollo stood tall and black against the stars. Odysseus joined him and together they sat staring in silence at the familiar sight of Troy below them, before dismounting and tying the reins of their horses to the trees that formed the walls of the temple. The others followed their example and Eperitus, sword drawn, led the way into the shadowy circle of laurels. Their curved trunks bent inwards like the ribcage of a rotted carcass, looming over him as he entered, while the thickly interlaced branches formed a ceiling that only the faintest trace of starlight could penetrate. The floor within had been laid over with large, even flagstones and at the far end was an altar of white marble. It was a dim grey in the gloom, its surface scattered not with the sacrifices of reverent worshippers but the curled husks of fallen leaves. In the murk behind it was a wooden effigy, carved from the stump of a dead tree into the likeness of the god Apollo. Dense fronds of ivy bound its legs and torso and from its clenched fists protruded a horn bow and a bronze arrow, the latter gleaming dully in the shadows.

‘So what are we looking for?’ Antiphus asked, sweeping the leaves from the altar with his forearm and leaning across it to stare at the effigy of Apollo.

‘I don’t see anything different,’ said Eurybates, Odysseus’s squire, as he stared around at the deserted temple. Having been left in charge of the Ithacan camp while the others had sailed to Lemnos, he had insisted on riding with them that evening to relieve his boredom. The expression on his face, however, was one of disappointment. ‘What did Calchas say we would find?’

Eperitus stood over the place where his father had stabbed Arceisius in the back only two weeks before, looking down at the floor as if expecting to see his squire’s blood still staining the flagstones.

‘Perhaps we won’t find anything,’ he said. ‘Who’s to say we’ve not been sent here on one of Calchas’s drunken whims.’

‘You’re too cynical, Eperitus,’ Odysseus remarked, standing with his hands on his hips and looking up at the ceiling. ‘If the gods want us to know how to defeat Troy, they’ll find a way to tell us. Apollo may even appear to us in person.’

With the exception of Eperitus – who had encountered immortals before – the others turned to him with looks of mixed alarm and curiosity. Antiphus slipped back from the altar and stared uncertainly at the effigy of the god, while Eurybates and Omeros followed the king’s gaze up to the ceiling of branches, as if expecting Apollo to appear in the air above them at that very moment. Then Eperitus cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes, listening intently.

‘I can hear hooves,’ he announced. ‘A single horse, approaching from the direction of Troy. And its rider’s in a hurry.’

Polites, who had remained by the entrance, threw back his cloak and made to draw his sword. Odysseus raised a cautionary hand.

‘Let him come. The temple is neutral ground, respected by both sides.’

‘Not by my father,’ Eperitus growled.

‘It won’t be Apheidas,’ Odysseus replied, able to hear the distant sound of hooves himself now. ‘But whoever it is, he might just be the reason we were sent here. Pull up your hoods all of you and come back into the shadows.’

The others did as they were ordered, waiting in silence as they heard the hooves top the ridge not far from the temple and then come to a sharp halt. There was a pause as the rider doubtless saw the tethered horses of the Greeks and debated whether to carry on to the temple or turn back. Then they heard him dismount and lead his animal to the circle of laurel trees. The layered boles of the trees were so densely packed that only dark glimpses of the man and his horse were visible as he came closer, but Eperitus’s keen ears had already noted that the telltale sounds of leather or bronze that would have indicated a fully armed warrior were absent. Whoever the rider was, he was travelling light.

He tethered his horse and entered the temple: the slight figure of a youth, dressed in a dark cloak that was thrown back over both shoulders to reveal a simple, knee-length tunic of typical Trojan style. His beardless face was indistinguishable in the gloom, but the hesitation in his approach betrayed his unease as he walked slowly into the circle of trees. The whites of his eyes gleamed slightly as they fell on the six hooded figures.

‘This temple is neutral ground,’ he declared in Greek. His voice was high and tense. ‘All I want is to make an offering to the god and seek his blessing. Then I’ll be on my way.’

‘Go ahead and make your offering, son,’ Odysseus replied in the Trojan tongue. ‘We won’t stop you.’

Helenus’s eyes lingered on the Greeks a moment longer, then he reached into a leather satchel at his hip and pulled out four or five flat, round cakes. He approached the altar and laid them on the cold marble, before falling to his knees and bowing his head. After a sidelong, self-conscious glance at the Greeks, he closed his eyes, raised his hands before the crude effigy and began to pray.

‘Lord Apollo, if I’ve served you with any loyalty, if my past sacrifices have brought you pleasure, then I beg you to hear my prayer. Guide me safely to … to my destination, and let me find the man I was told to seek. My offerings are small and hurried tonight, but if you give me the vengeance my anger – no, my
fury
– demands, then I promise to thank you with the thigh bones and fat of a young calf.’

‘Vengeance?’ Odysseus said with a tone of mock interest.

Helenus turned to see two of the hooded men standing behind him.

‘You should have gone to a temple of Artemis,’ Eperitus added. ‘If it’s revenge you want, few gods can match her.’

‘I am a follower of Apollo, not his sister,’ Helenus replied. ‘And now I’ve made my prayer I will leave the temple to you.’

He made to step around the Greeks, but Odysseus raised a hand to stop him. It was then that Helenus noticed the other four men were standing by the single egress from the temple.

‘You said you would let me make my offering,’ he protested.

‘And so we have,’ Odysseus replied. ‘But don’t fear. We intend you no harm. Answer us a few questions and you can be on your way.’

‘What sort of questions?’

‘Your name, to start with.’

‘Helenus, son of Priam,’ Helenus confessed, after a moment’s hesitation. ‘But if you’re thinking I’ll fetch a good ransom because I’m a prince then you’ll be disappointed. I’m a priest, not a warrior, and my father values me less than the dogs that feed on the scraps from his table.’

‘We’re not after hostages,’ Eperitus countered. ‘We were sent here for information. We were told we would find the secret to the downfall of Troy in this temple tonight –’

Eperitus felt Odysseus’s hand on his arm and turned to see an admonishing look in the king’s eye. Clearly, he had said too much. Then he saw Odysseus’s gaze turn to Helenus; Eperitus followed and saw that the prince’s eyes were staring at him, wide with surprise.

‘
Who
sent you?’ he asked.

‘Calchas, the seer,’ Odysseus answered. ‘Do you know of him?’

Helenus nodded.

‘Yes. His reputation as a traitor is well known in Troy, though I also have vague memories of him from when I was a very young boy – his shuffling walk, and those piercing eyes.’

‘And are you the one he sent us to look for?’ Odysseus continued.

There was a tautness to the king’s tone, like a hunter who has sighted his prey and yet is afraid to launch his spear too soon for fear of startling the animal and sending it fleeing for cover. Helenus looked at the hooded men, their features indistinguishable in the gloom, and for a moment it looked as if he would tell them everything. Then he checked himself and stepped back towards the altar, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. It seemed the prey had flown.

‘Let me go. If you dishonour the neutrality of this temple you dishonour the gods themselves.’

‘The temple’s neutrality has nothing to do with the gods,’ Odysseus corrected. ‘The Greeks and Trojans came to a mutual understanding early in the war that it should be left open to both sides. And in the dead of the night there’ll be nobody to witness one small violation. Take him.’

At his signal Polites and Eurybates rushed forward and seized the prince by his arms.

‘And I’m curious,’ Odysseus continued, watching the captive struggle uselessly against their hold. ‘Why would anybody want to visit the temple so late, unless they were up to something they didn’t want anyone else to know about? Who’s this man you’re so desperate for Apollo to lead you to, and what’s made you furious enough to seek vengeance? What, exactly, are you up to, Helenus?’

‘I’ll speak to no man but Odysseus, or Eperitus his captain!’

‘Then Apollo has heard your prayer,’ Odysseus said, tipping back his hood. ‘I am King Odysseus of Ithaca, son of Laertes, and this is Eperitus, the captain of my guard.’

Eperitus lowered his hood and stepped forward to look at the prince, who had given up his struggles and now hung between his Ithacan captors, staring at Odysseus and Eperitus in disbelief.

‘Who told you to find us?’

‘A servant girl called Astynome,’ Helenus answered. Eperitus’s eyes widened momentarily, but he said nothing. ‘After Paris was slain, Deiphobus and I laid claim to Helen. Deiphobus is the elder and has fought valiantly against the Greeks, but I am a seer and offered to tell my father the oracles that were given to me to ensure the safety of Troy – or guarantee its destruction – if he gave me Helen for my wife.’