Gears of Troy 2

by Daniel Pierce

  “And you trust these criminals?” Hecuba exclaimed.

  “Not very much, no, but they did honor their word. And Caria made a good point that they would make good fodder if we were to find ourselves under attack. We would shed no tears for their loss, but they may save valuable Trojan lives.”

  “That is a cunning assessment, my dear.” The Queen nodded her head in approval. “I trust you to command them to the best of your ability.”

  “Of course. How is the King’s condition?”

  She sighed. “It is much the same. I have not been able to sleep more than an hour here or there during the whole mess. I can only hope you will find some solution soon, Troy. It seems more and more likely that his life rests on your shoulders. We are once again counting on you to save our precious kingdom from ruin.”

  “I’m doing all that I can. We’ve only stopped here to see if the girls made any more progress in their research and to fill you in on the news. It’s looking like our next stop will be Cannakale. I have to admit, I had no idea it was so close to Port Superior. Is there anything you can tell me about it or these engineers Caria mentioned? Her knowledge only comes from word of mouth.”

  The Queen thought for a moment. “I do not hear of that city too often. It has exchanged hands many times over the years, and as of late, its people have grown quite reclusive. It lies just north of our borders and is currently self-governed. I have very little helpful information to provide, most everything I know only coming from rumors. If there is any chance to save my Priam by visiting these engineers, I would suggest you seek them out before marching deep into Hittite land. Hattusa is very far away and”—she attempted to stifle a despairing whimper—“I fear our King does not have the time to spare for you to travel there and back.”

  I looked to Caria, her face the picture of concern.

  Hecuba said, “Excuse me, dears. I will be back in a moment,” and walked to an adjoining room, presumably to sob in private.

  “I hope I am right in thinking these men can help,” Caria whispered. “I find myself doubting more and more. So very little is known these days about the people of Cannakale.”

  Every time I heard the name of that place, I experience a fleeting sense of déjà vu. I knew I had heard the word before, most likely in one of my high school history classes, where most of my knowledge of ancient peoples came from. I had a vague memory of a picture in a textbook associated with the thought, but I could not quite put my finger on it.

  “Hey, it’s the best we’ve got right now,” I said. “I’m glad you mentioned it, otherwise my only option would be to charge headfirst into Hattusa, and, like the Queen just said, that’s not much of an option.”

  Caria nodded. “I will be with you every step of the way, Husband.” She took my hand. “I can be of more assistance than a simple translator. As you can imagine, I have much experience with horses and know many battle tactics that can be carried out on horseback. If you are willing, I can lead your riders wherever they are needed.”

  “That would be a great help, Caria. My experience on horseback is admittedly lacking, so I would welcome a helping hand.” I squeezed her hand, and our fingers lay interlaced until the Queen regained her composure and joined us in the room once again.

  “Forgive me my moment’s weakness,” she said. Her eyes were red, cheeks stained with tears.

  “There is nothing to apologize for, Your Grace. We are all grieving, but you bear the heaviest burden of us all.”

  “Thank you for your understanding, Troy.” Her eyes rested on our hands clasped together. She said, “Ah, I think I am beginning to see what has formed between you two. I imagine you owe Troy a great debt after saving you, girl.”

  “I do, Your Majesty,” Caria said, “but this is what I desire. Troy has asked me to be his queen, second to Helen. She has accepted the offer and already welcomed me with open arms. A small part of the reason I accompanied Troy to your grand palace was to seek your good graces.”

  “Who would I be to argue against the will of both Troy and Helen, then? They are both of sound judgement, and you are not the only one who owes them a great debt, girl. May the two of you see nothing but happiness for all your days.” She let out a small cynical laugh.

  I did not take her comment personally, understanding that she was in the middle of great emotional distress and that seeing a happy young couple probably made her think back to her own happy times in her youth. To wish us a life of happiness was expected of her, but it was more than a tad ironic given the circumstances with her own husband.

  I took my hand from Caria’s as realization dawned on me and said, “We will postpone the happiness and celebration until we see you and the King in each other’s loving arms once again.”

  “You are too sweet, dear Troy.” She reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Your words mean much to me.”

  “I will do everything that is within my power to assist your husband’s return to health, Your Majesty.” Caria bowed.

  “I trust that you will, girl. Under Troy’s guidance, I am confident that you will succeed. Luck seems to chase him like flies on cow refuse, if you will excuse my crude comparison.” She forced a laugh, as did we.

  “We will leave before the sun is low,” I said.

  “This sits well with me,” said the Queen. “Do you need any men to accompany you?”

  “I don’t think so. I will be taking Caria and the four Thirians I brought from Port Superior with me. That should be enough.”

  “All right. I wish you well, dear. We are all counting on you.”

  We bowed and took our leave. All that was left to do was bid Helen farewell, and then we would be on our way.

  11

  Things happened fast after we left the palace. I had just finished filling Helen and Zinni in on all the details when a messenger approached me with news that an Egyptian fleet had been spotted off the coast.

  Apparently, they were only passing through from one trade route to the next. The Trojans that hailed them asked them to stay put because they knew that the kingdom had interest in speaking with the Egyptians. I was surprised that our soldiers knew this but realized that Hecuba must have been keeping them on the lookout for any suspicious activity, and also keeping them abreast of the high-level details of the discoveries I brought her.

  I sent the messenger back to the men on the dock, telling them to ask the Egyptians if they knew anything about the magic that ailed the King. In response, they sent a priest to shore to investigate the matter further.

  Caria and I were on the dock when his rowboat approached, manned by four muscled Nubians. Each of them must have stood at least seven feet tall. Thick braids fell from their heads, reaching down to their chins. They each wore a stoic countenance, the kind of look that made me think they could kill without batting an eye; it reminded me of my friend Artession in wartime. No shirts were on their backs, but each carried an off-white sash draped over one shoulder which held an assortment of knives and bottles. From their waists hung some kind of skirt of the same color with golden hems. I did not know what I expected of them, but this was not it. What I was looking at seemed more at place in Hollywood than in this strange plane of existence. These people had supposedly created my dear Helen, but there was no sign before me that they were advanced enough to do such a thing.

  Their priest was no different. He sat in the middle of the four warriors—two at his front and two at his back. His robes were a cleaner white than his companions’ and trimmed with the same gold of their skirts. His skin was a tan that made me think of leather, and on it, running from his wrinkled face to his hands, were painted golden markings that I was unable to decipher. Not that I would have been able to read them, but they did not look like any hieroglyphs I had learned about growing up. His face was as solemn as the others.

  The old man stood and began speaking in a language I did not understand. It caught me off guard, because I had become accustomed to everyone but my Thirian friends
miraculously knowing English. I looked to our messenger for interpretation, but he returned my glance with a wide-eyed shrug.

  “Perhaps this is some sort of a joke on their part?” he suggested. “I spoke with their captain—he knows our language. I . . . expected them to send someone to translate.”

  I heard Caria giggle at my side, and then she said, “He is greeting us and would like to see the King. He has not said anything you would not expect of this encounter.”

  “Tell him to follow us then,” I said, smiling. Caria was already coming in handy.

  She responded to the man in his native tongue. He and his warriors disembarked from their boat and followed us to the gates.

  Helen was waiting for us at the wall when we arrived. I had a knee-jerk concern that her presence might cause problems. Neither of us were clear on how the Egyptians felt about her course of action during the war, and it probably would have been best to leave the reunion for another time. She was sent by them to impersonate the real Helen—take her place or something like that—but she was not sure to what end. As she became more and more human, she found her desires separating from her pre-programmed imperatives and wanted to stake her own claim in the fields of destiny. In all that time, she had never communicated with her constructors. The two of us were sure that the time of reckoning was inevitable, and that one day she would learn what they thought of her, but I hoped her sudden presence at the gates did not hasten its approach.

  There was no doubt that all of this was going through her head as well, and perhaps that was the whole reason she came to us. Maybe she just wanted to be done with whatever words or potential punishment they had for her. If that was her motive, she was to be disappointed. The priest did look at her as we passed under the massive threshold, but there was no sign of recognition or surprise in his fleeting glance. He said nothing to even acknowledge her presence, and after a moment it appeared as if she was gone from his mind.

  We walked silently until we were face-to-face with Hecuba. She had already been informed of the situation and was expecting us. She led the priest, Helen, Caria, and I to the King’s chambers and allowed the Egyptian religious official to do his work.

  The King had not changed since the last time I saw him, looking like little more than a ghost-white corpse. He watched us wordlessly as the priest removed some sort of blinking metal device from a fold in his robe and began scanning it up and down the length of Priam’s body.

  At one moment, the King spasmed under a fit of pained coughs. I instinctively took a half-step forward, but Hecuba held me back with a gentle touch of her hand. After this, he somehow found the energy to speak.

  “Troy, my son,” he wheezed.

  “Yes, Your Highness?”

  “You are looking well.” He smiled. “You managed to find some rest, I hope?”

  “Yes, Your Highness.” I let out a brief chuckle, a sound that seemed unnatural in this nightmarish room. “I was able to get some sleep at sea while my men took turns guiding the ship. I appreciate your concern.”

  He nodded and looked to the priest who was still leaning over him, scanning the King’s body with his gadget. At times, it would blink from green to red, and the priest would stop and pay special attention to the area that had caused the change. He made no sound in all that time. The whole analysis took about fifteen minutes in total, but it stretched for what seemed like years. I watched with bated breath, expecting the man to turn around and tell us that there was no time to save our King.

  When finished, he tucked the device back in his robe and addressed the Queen, with Caria serving as translator. “This illness is a dark mixture of magic and science. There is nothing the Egyptians can do for your King, as is it not magic that is familiar to them. The kings of Hattusa have always been known for such corrupted dealings with the alternate plane, and their people are likely the only ones who know how to undo the curse. They will never part with their secrets without a struggle. There is nothing more that I can do here.”

  His face was as solemn as the moment I met him. During his brief time with us, the man showed no signs of emotion, and here, as he dealt this heavy hand to the kingdom of Troy, he behaved no differently. When he had finished speaking, he made to leave, and no one stopped him.

  Priam appeared to have gone back to sleep, and we all looked to the Queen for further input. Exhaustion marred every line of her once proud face.

  Her stare was on her ailing husband, and she said, perhaps more to herself than the rest of us, “Then this is the way it must be. We are to go to war with the Hittites and find a cure for my beloved king.”

  “Just give the word, and we’ll go there,” I said.

  “But Troy, what of the Brethren of Stars?” Caria interjected.

  I shook my head. “You heard the priest. Only the Hittites will know the cure.”

  “But the Brethren are powerful. Perhaps they could find a way around—”

  I held up a hand to cut her off and shook my head again. “We may waste too much time on a hunch. I feel now that our best chance is to head straight to the source.”

  She did not protest again. After a minute of quiet reflection, Hecuba turned to me and said, “Troy, I will give you as many troops as I can spare. You are to ride into Hittite lands—on a course straight for Hattusa—and spare no expense in finding the cure. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Your Highness. I’ll leave tonight with Caria. She has extensive experience on horseback and I am sure she will be of great use to us.”

  “Just see that you do not return empty-handed.” The Queen was mustering more resolve than I had seen of her lately. She stood poised before us, prepared for her empire to make its last stand in defense of its king. “If you do not find a cure, then do not return at all. Do you understand?”

  I bowed. “Yes, Your Grace.”

  Helen and Caria said nothing, only looked at their queen with eyes wide. Her change of tune was sudden and unexpected. My honor was on the line here, as was the fate of my own little kingdom. The subtext was clear: if I did not succeed in this mission, I would be no longer be anyone to the Trojans. I would no longer have their backing, and my humble Port Superior, which depended on a constant stream of resources from Troy, would die before it even had a chance.

  We left the palace in a hurry, the Queen sending word ahead of us for the troops to prepare themselves and meet us at the gates within the next hour. Things were happening too fast for comfort, but no one had any choice but to obey—no one had any desire but to obey. The fate of their nation was at stake.

  Helen latched onto my arm as we rushed down the steps. “Troy,” she said, “what if you do not succeed? You will not be welcome here.” Her eyes were pleading and glossy. With all that was going on, I did not know if I could bare to see her tears then. But as it were, she found the strength to hold them in.

  “That’s a very real possibility,” I said. “But it is what it is. If I fail, it will be because I died in the attempt, so it will not matter either way.”

  “You will never die in battle, Troy!”

  “Don’t be foolish, Helen. I’m not invincible. We’re going to war. People die. I’m only a man. I’m going to do everything I can to get this cure, and we will see what happens. Don’t worry about it until we know the outcome.”

  “But how am I not to worry? Does it not pain you to think that the two of us could be no more?”

  I found myself holding back a tear then. “Helen, nothing pains me more, but worrying isn’t going to help anything.”

  “I will come with you,” she said. “That way, if you are banished, I will still be at your side.”

  I shook my head. “No, the people here need you, and you pledged yourself to them, remember? The last thing they need is for you to disappear in their hour of need like your predecessor did. Don’t make the same mistake she made.”

  She was quiet for the rest of the walk to Zinni’s, as was Caria. The equestrian princess walked several paces behind us
the whole way, allowing our conversation to take place uninterrupted. She seemed taken aback at my dismissiveness in the King’s chambers, and I wondered if she was worried that she was overstepping her boundaries when she provided input like she did then.

  We were in front of Zinni’s door when I rested both of my hands on Helen’s shoulders and said, “Stay here, all right?”

  She nodded.

  “I will do everything that is within my power to return here safely, but if the unthinkable happens and I don’t come back, you need to carry on. Understand?”

  She nodded again, only daring to look at me between sentences.

  “Your duty is to the people here—and our Thirian friends. If I die, think of that as my final request: make sure that our Thirian friends are cared for here. I do not want them getting swept to the wayside under a new order.”

  “Yes, Troy.” Her eyes met mine. “But I will see you here again safely after this is all over.”

  “We can only hope,” I said, kissing her. “Pray for me, or maybe”—I forced a laugh in a poor attempt at trying to lighten the mood—“look up a spell in one of Zinni’s books and cast it for me.”

  “I just might do that, Troy.” Her lips creased into a pained grin.

  Caria spoke for the first time to bid Helen a quick farewell, and the two of us headed for the gates to meet up with my Thirian friends and the men the Queen had sent for.

  I was told that there were 600 of them—not the best I could have hoped for, not by a long shot, but they were all that could be gathered at a moment’s notice. Most of the other soldiers were spread throughout the kingdom in its tributary cities, and there was no time to gather them. The general I spoke with told me that these men in the far reaches of the empire would be sent for, and a second wave would trail behind my troops in the coming days. Again, this was not the best scenario, but it was all we could do as each invaluable second ticked by.

  There were horses for all of us, and several men who knew the way to Hattusa were assigned to ride at my side. I pictured our modest but bold entourage strolling up to the city’s gates and me knocking on the door asking if their king could come out for a little chat.