by Roger Green
After this they spoke long together, making plans for the theft of the Palladium, and for the taking of Troy. But Odysseus the over-cunning did not tell Helen everything; though in his mind he was already inventing the device of the Wooden Horse, he spoke of it to her only in double meanings and half-concealed hints, and left her doubting and even rather resentful.
But that night she helped him to escape from Troy, allowing the watchmen to catch her in one of her own attempts and so distracting their attention while Odysseus climbed down to Diomedes who was waiting for him. But she herself remained in Troy to do her part on the night of the great attack.
Before this could be launched, however, the Palladium had still to be stolen, and on a dark night Odysseus and Diomedes came for it. They entered Troy this time by means of a narrow, evil-smelling drain arched with great stones – a drain that may be seen at Troy to this day. This low tunnel led them, through mire and filth, to the very middle of Troy. It came up near the temple and here Theano the priestess, wife of Antenor, gave up the image to them, and they were able to carry it away – though not to enter the city again by that path.
Outside in the pale moon-light the evil magic in the misshapen idol began to exert itself upon the thieves. For as Diomedes walked ahead with it on his back a madness came upon Odysseus: not knowing what he was doing, he fell behind his friend, drew his sword and crept stealthily up, meaning to stab him in the back. But as luck would have it the moon shone out from behind a cloud as he was about to strike, and the flash of light on the sword-blade caught the eye of Diomedes who wheeled round just in time to avoid the blow. The madness was succeeded by a blank horror: Odysseus dropped his weapon and allowed Diomedes to drive him in front of him like a cow while he beat him with the flat of his sword.
When they came to their senses neither Odysseus nor Diomedes bore any malice towards each other. But the Greeks decided that the Luck of Troy would bring only bad luck to them, and carried it hastily to a shrine of Athena on Mount Ida. There it remained until after the Fall of Troy, when Aeneas took it with him on his wanderings.
Whether or not the loss of the Palladium made any difference to Troy, it was immediately after its theft that Odysseus suggested the plan of the Wooden Horse. He went off to Mount Ida with Epeius the skilled ship-wright and a band of men to fell trees, and brought back the timber to the Greek camp. Here a high wall was built to hide from the Trojans what was going on, and Epeius set to work, using all his skill to build the Horse according to the plans prepared by Odysseus.
First he made the hollow body of the horse, in size like a curved ship; and he fitted a neck to the front of it with a purple fringed mane sprinkled with gold. The mane fell below the cunningly fashioned head which had eyes of blood-red amethyst surrounded with gems of sea-green beryl. In the mouth he set rows of jagged white teeth, and a golden bit with a jewelled bridle. And he made secret air-holes in the nostrils and the wide mouth and the high-pricked ears.
Then he fitted legs to the Horse, and a flowing tail twisted with gold and hung with tassels. The hooves were shod with bronze and mounted with polished tortoise-shell, and under them were set wheels so that the Horse might move easily over the ground.
Under the Horse there was a secret trap-door so cunningly hidden that no one, looking at the Horse from outside, could suspect it; and the door fastened from within with a special catch that only Epeius could undo.
So high and so wide was the Horse that it could not pass through any gate of Troy, and the secret hollow inside it was big enough for thirty men to enter and lie concealed with all their armour and weapons.
When all was ready, Odysseus begged Agamemnon to summon all the Kings and Princes of the Greek force, and he rose up in the assembly and said:
‘My friends, now is the secret ambush prepared – thanks be to Athena my Immortal counsellor and protector. Let us set all upon the hazard of a single exploit – an exploit that will live for ever on the lips of men. Let those of you who dare follow me into the Horse: for my plans are all laid, and my cousin Sinon is instructed how to beguile the Trojans. You, my lord Agamemnon, when we are safely in the Horse, must wait until darkness, then pull down the wall surrounding it and destroy the camp. Afterwards sail away with all our ships – but wait in hiding beyond the island of Tenedos. On the following night, if all is well, Sinon will kindle a fire on the Grave of Achilles as a signal. Come all of you then back to land, and in darkness and silence speed to Troy town and lay it low! For the gates will be open – and Helen will set a lamp in her window to guide you.’
Then all the Greeks cried out in praise of Odysseus and the greatness of his scheme – and all wished to accompany him into the Horse. But besides himself and Epeius he chose out no more than twenty-eight, and these included Menelaus and Teucer the brother of dead Ajax, Aias the son of Oileus, Thrasymedes the son of Nestor, Eumelus the son of Admetus and two sons of Theseus called Demophon and Acamas who had come to Troy with Menestheus the King of Athens to rescue their grandmother Aethra who was still Helen's attendant.
The thirty climbed up the ladder into the Horse, drew it after them and closed the door, which Epeius then sat upon, while Odysseus settled himself in the Horse's neck to look out through the hidden holes.
Then Agamemnon caused the walls to be levelled, the camp to be torn down and the whole army embarked in the ships.
When day dawned the plain of Troy lay empty and deserted except for the great Horse towering there alone. And on the wide sea not a ship was to be seen.
CHAPTER 10
THE WOODEN HORSE
*
But Helen stood bright-eyed as glancing day
Nearby the Horse, and with a straying hand
Did stroke it here and there, and listening stand,
Leaning her head towards its gilded flank,
And strain to hear men's breath behind the plank.
MAURICE HEWLETT
Helen Redeemed
10
Morning dawned over the windy plain of Troy, and the Trojans looked out towards the great camp of the Greeks which had stood there so long – looked, and rubbed their eyes and looked again.
The camp was a deserted ruin of tumbled stone, and charred huts and palisades; and there were no ships to be seen drawn up on the shore, nor upon the sea.
While they were wondering at this and hardly able to believe their eyes, scouts came hastening to King Priam.
‘The Greeks have indeed gone!’ they cried. ‘The camp lies in ashes; there is not a man, not a ship to be seen. But there stands in the midst of the ruins a great Wooden Horse the like of which we have never seen.’
Then the gates of Troy were flung open and out poured young and old, laughing and shouting in their joy that the Greeks were gone at last. Priam led the way with Queen Hecuba and their only surviving son Polites and their daughters Cassandra and Polyxena; and they came to the ruins and stood gazing at the great Wooden Horse.
And now they could see letters of gold inscribed on the Horse's side:
THΣ EIΣ OIKON ANAKOMIΔHΣ EΛΛHNEΣ AΘHNA XAPIΣTHPION
(For their return home, the Greeks dedicate this thank-offering to Athena).
At once a great argument broke out among the Trojans as to what should be done with the Horse.
‘It is a gift to Athena,’ cried one chief, ‘so let us take it into Troy and place it in her temple!’
‘No, no!’ cried another, ‘rather let us fling it into the sea!’
The arguments grew fierce: many wished to destroy it, but more to keep it as a memorial of the war – and Priam favoured this course.
Then Laocoon the priest, a man of violent temper who had already insulted Poseidon the Immortal Lord of the Sea by failing to offer him his due sacrifices, rushed up crying:
‘Wretched men, are you mad? Do you not realize that the Greeks have made this? May it not be some cunning engine devised by that evil creature Odysseus to break down our walls or spy into our houses? There is something gu
ileful about it, I am certain, and I warn you, Trojans, not to trust this Horse. Whatever it is, I fear the Greeks most when they make us gifts!’
So saying Laocoon hurled his spear at the
Horse, and there came from it a strange clash and clang as of metal.
Then indeed the Trojans might have grown suspicious, and broken open the Horse with axes as some suggested; but at that moment several shepherds appeared, leading between them the wretched figure of a man who was caked from head to foot with mud and filth and dried blood; and his hands were fastened together with fetters of bronze.
‘Great King of Troy!’ he gasped. ‘Save me! Pity me! I am a Greek, I confess it, but no man among you can hate the Greeks as I do – and it is within my power to make Troy safe for ever.’
‘Speak,’ said Priam briefly. ‘Who are you, and what can you tell us?’
‘My name is Sinon,’ was the answer, ‘and I am a cousin of Odysseus – of that most hateful and fiendish among men. Listen to what chanced. You have all heard of Palamedes? He was a Greek, and your enemy, but his gifts to mankind, and his wondrous inventions benefit you and all men. Odysseus hated him, for he it was who saw through his feigned madness and forced him to come to the war. At length that hatred could be endured no longer, and Odysseus of the many wiles devised a hideous plot whereby Palamedes was accused of betraying the Greek army to you Trojans. On the evidence of a forged letter he was convicted and stoned to death – and I alone knew that Odysseus wrote the letter and arranged the plot. Alas, I reproached my cousin with what he had done, and ever after he sought to have me slain.
‘At length the time came when the Greeks despaired of conquering Troy: for it was revealed that never could they do so during this invasion. But our Immortal Lady Athena made it known to us that if we returned to Greece and set out afresh, we should conquer Troy. But first we must make this monstrous Horse as an offering to her – and make it so large that it could never be drawn into Troy: for whatever city contains this Horse can never be conquered.
‘So the Horse was made. But Odysseus beguiled Calchas the prophet into declaring that, even as the Greek forces could not leave Aulis until the innocent maiden Iphigenia was sacrificed, so they could not leave Troy without the sacrifice of a noble warrior: and, by the evil workings of Odysseus, I was chosen as the victim.
‘Last night they would have sacrificed me: but rendered desperate I broke away, and fled to hide myself in the foul mud of a noisome marsh that drains all Troy. Then the wind rose suddenly and the Greeks sailed away; but whether another was sacrificed instead of me, I cannot say. Only this I can tell you, noble Priam: this Horse is sacred to Athena and – since they have treated me so cruelly I can betray their secrets without incurring the anger of the Immortals – if you take it into Troy, the Greeks will never conquer you. Instead, you will be sailing to Greece, to sack rich Mycenae and proud Athens, Argos of the many horses and windy Iolcus and Sparta in the fertile plain of hollow Lacedaemon.’
Then Priam and the other Trojan lords consulted together, and many of them were minded to believe Sinon; but others still doubted. While fate hung in the balance, there came two serpents out of the sea and made for the altar where Lao-coon had retired with his two sons to offer up a sacrifice to the Sealord Poseidon. Straight to the place they went, terrible to be seen, and seized upon the two boys, and began to crush them in their deadly coils.
Laocoon strove to save his sons; but the serpents seized him too, and in a little while all three lay dead beside the altar of Poseidon.
Now all the Trojans cried out that Laocoon had been justly rewarded by the angry Immortals for casting his spear at the glorious offering made to Athena. Without further ado they twined the Horse about with garlands of flowers, and dragged it across the plain towards the city.
When they reached the gate, the Horse proved too big to enter by it: but the Trojans gaily pulled down a section of the wall, and brought it through in triumph, right to the courtyard of Athena's temple from which the Palladium, the Luck of Troy, had been stolen.
As evening fell, Cassandra came and stood beside the Horse:
‘Cry, Trojans, cry!’ she screamed. ‘Your doom is upon you! I see warriors come from their hollow abode! I see Troy burning, her sons slaughtered and her daughters carried away to slavery! Cry, Trojans, cry! For madness has come upon you, and your doom is here!’
But no one would believe her, for still the curse was upon her that she must speak the truth and not be believed; and presently she went into the temple of Athena and knelt in prayer before a statue of the Immortal whom she worshipped.
Night fell, and the Trojans feasted and revelled in their joy that the Great War was over and the Greeks had gone. At last worn out with excitement and celebration, they fell asleep, leaving few guards by the walls and gates – and few indeed that were sober.
But Aphrodite was loath to admit that Paris's people were about to be destroyed on account of the bribe which she had given him for the Golden Apple; and she made one last attempt to save the Trojans.
She went to Helen as she sat waiting in the palace, and cast her spell over her once more – though it was but faint and very brief. But Helen forgot for an hour that she hated Deiphobus, forgot that she was longing with all her heart for Menelaus and her lost Hermione. She rose like one in a dream and went to seek for the Trojan husband whom she detested.
‘Dear my lord,’ she said in her sweet voice as she laid her hand on his arm. ‘Come with me, I beg you: for I would see this wondrous Horse made by the Greeks who were once my people.’
Intoxicated with joy at this sudden change in Helen's manner towards him, Deiphobus went with her willingly, and they came together into the courtyard of Athena's temple.
‘Suppose,’ mused Helen in a dreamy voice, ‘the Kings of Greece – Menelaus, and Agamemnon, Odysseus and Diomedes and the rest – suppose they were all shut up inside this Horse!’
‘If you think that,’ exclaimed Deiphobus, ‘we must have it broken open at once!’
‘No,’ murmured Helen, ‘I have a better means than that. If they are there, I will lure them out!’
Now all her life Helen had the power of mimicry: she could assume any voice so perfectly that no one who heard could tell her from the actual person.
So now, walking round and round the Horse, she called softly and sweetly, first in her own voice:
‘Menelaus! Menelaus! Come to me, my lord and my love!’ And then she called to Agamemnon in the voice of her sister Clytemnestra; and to Odysseus in the voice of her cousin Penelope. To Diomedes she called in the very tones of his wife Aegialia and to each in the tones of one dearest to him.
Inside the Horse the heroes were sitting trembling and alert: only Neoptolemus showed no fear but gazed fiercely in front of him and gripped his sword. But when they heard their wives calling to them, the voices they had not heard for ten long, wretched years, the tears coursed down their cheeks and they found it hard indeed to stop themselves from answering.
Only Anticlus, the youngest man in the Horse, could not bear it. When he heard his wife Laoda-mia calling to him, he leapt forward to unfasten the trapdoor and he opened his mouth to answer her. But watchful Odysseus caught hold of him in time, gripping him tightly and placing a hand firmly over his mouth.
But Anticlus seemed mad with his desire to cry out and escape from the Horse, and in deadly terror lest he should utter a sound and they should all perish, Odysseus held him tighter and tighter; and, without meaning it, he choked him so that Anticlus died there in the Horse, and his friends wept silently for him and wrapped his body in a cloak.
‘There is no one in the Horse,’ exclaimed Deiphobus at length. ‘Come to bed, Helen, I am weary and would sleep.’
So they went together to Helen's bed-chamber in a high tower overlooking the plain of Troy, and Deiphobus slept – for the last time. When he was asleep, the spell of Aphrodite passed from Helen, and she was overcome with shame and self-loathing at what she had do
ne. All that night she sat in her window with a bright lamp beside her
so that the Greeks could find Troy in the darkness, and she held out her white arms as if to draw Menelaus to her. And ever the Star-stone on her breast dripped its red drops which fell on to her snowy raiment, fell and vanished – fell and vanished – and left no stain.
Behind her a great silence lay upon the doomed city of Troy. Not a sound of song or of revelry broke the stillness of the night, not even the baying of a dog was to be heard, but perfect silence reigned as if Night held her breath, awaiting the sudden outbreak of the noise of war and death.
Through that silence the Greek fleet stole back to the beaches; for on the mound which marked Achilles's tomb a great fire burned, kindled by Sinon. And from Helen's window the light shone out so that the Greeks drew nearer and nearer to Troy, silent and sure, stealing through the early night to be there before the moon rose.
And when the first silvery beams came stealing over the black shape of distant Ida, Odysseus gave the word, and Epeius undid the bolt and opened the door beneath the belly of the Wooden Horse. In his eager haste Echion sprang out before the ladder was ready, and the fall killed him. But the other heroes climbed down in safety, stole through the silent streets, killed what sleepy sentinels there were on watch and opened the gates of Troy to Agamemnon and the armies of Greece.
CHAPTER 11
THE FALL OF TROY
*
Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again:
Here will I dwell, for Heaven is in those lips,
And all is dross that is not Helena…
Oh thou art fairer than the evening air
Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars.
