Agenor turned the box over very carefully, as though it was a sacred object used by a priest, and then handed it back to Odysseus. “Yes, you take care of it for me.”
When we crawled from the tent, Epeius called after us, “Maybe we can organise a boxing competition. I’d like to see how I measure up to those big-headed Mycenaeans and Myrmidons.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Odysseus said and when we’d fought our way through the wind to our own hut, he whispered to me, “Funny thing about Epeius. He’s our champion boxer and knows no fear in a boxing match, yet we need to place him in the middle of the troops to stop him running from a battle.”
We slammed the door behind us and hurried to the fire. Dragging the wet cloak from my shoulders, I turned to see Io covered in Ellissa’s blankets and holding her hands over the flames. “Io, you’ve escaped!”
“I saw my chance when Agamemnon went out into the camp and Calchas was asleep. It’s been terrible. Ceto and I try to hide in the corners because if we go near the fire, Agamemnon or Calchas are there. So we’re both chilled to the bone. Poor Ceto is thinner than ever.”
Ellissa handed her a plate of the special honey cakes. “These may cheer you up a little. I’ll wrap some for Ceto.”
“Thank you, thank you. Oh, I’ve missed your treats,” Io said, taking a bite. “Not only have Agamemnon and Calchas stayed in the hut, but I haven’t seen Nicodamas for seven days. We can’t work the furnace in this weather and I’m missing him so much. Maybe you could take him a message, Neo?”
“You must very keen on metal work,” Odysseus said.
I shot him a disapproving look, which he ignored.
Io continued with her description of the misery inside Agamemnon’s hut. “And you won’t believe this! Hesta’s still coming round to help Calchas. You’d think the storm would give her an excuse, but she seems to like being with him. What must it be like in Achilles’ camp if she prefers it with us.”
“Perhaps she’s a hidden reason for her visits?” Odysseus suggested, sitting down next to Ellissa.
Io laughed, “What, like she’s secretly in love with Calchas?”
“Ah, you mustn’t assume everyone’s driven by the same motives as yourself,” he said.
“I’m not in love with Calchas!” Io snorted.
“Didn’t think for one moment you were, I’ve much more respect for your judgement than that. The man you’ve chosen is a very different character. Possibly better looking too.”
Io thought for a moment, then her eyes widened and she blushed.
Odysseus held up his hands. “I won’t say a word to Agamemnon. But remember, from Heracles’ fort, anyone can look down and see what’s going on in Nicodamas’ forge.”
Chapter TWENTY-TWO
Warning
When the spring high tide swept the driftwood onto the beach, Io and I walked along the shoreline with one of the mules, collecting the larger pieces for the fires.
“So if Nicodamus makes a sword from one piece of bronze, it’ll be stronger and won’t shatter so easily. Agamemnon says when he presents him with such a sword, he’ll give consent to our marriage,” Io said, placing a large branch onto the back of the mule.
“But what if he can’t?”
“That’s the beauty of it, Nicodamas knows he can. Since we’ve been here, he’s found abandoned swords designed like that. He says he can copy them easy enough.”
“Maybe the war will be over soon and then you could be married in Mycenae,” I said, flinging wood on the mule’s back. The mule turned, flicked its tail and tried to bite my arm. I jumped out of range of her mouth and sighed, “Maybe that’s too much to hope for.”
“It’s got to end sometime, it can’t go on forever,” Io said, tugging at the mule as it dug its hooves into the sand. “But give me a hand with this idiotic animal. Now she’s refusing to move at all.”
We pulled and pushed and shouted, but the mule wouldn’t budge.
I stood back and stared at her. The eyes had a very determined and angry look.
“Push her again,” Io cried.
“No, let’s turn her round and see if she prefers the other way.”
We dragged the animal until she faced the Mycenae camp. Immediately her ears sprang forward and her tail twitched. I jumped away, fearing another biting attempt, but this time the mule took off and galloped across the sands as if part of a champion chariot team. Io was yanked off her feet and dragged for a short distance, before remembering to let go of the rope.
I hurried to her, trying to hide a smile as she cursed the beast.
“Seems the mule wanted to go home too,” I said, helping her up.
“Stupid thing,” Io moaned, inspecting her rope burnt hands. “At least she’s taking the wood where we want it.”
I glanced back towards the middle of the beach and could just make out the Ithacan and Mycenae camps, almost hidden by the surrounding ships, tents and equipment. There seemed to be men and horses moving around our hut. I tried to focus.
“What is it? What can you see?” Io said.
“There’s a scouting party back too early.”
I ran towards our camp by the most direct route, dodging round tents and pushing through groups of soldiers. I ducked under ropes and scrambled over the ships. Sweat trickled into my eyes and through blurred vision, I saw Odysseus’ chariot and his favourite black horses. In the centre of Agamemnon’s camp, Calchas and Hesta stood in my way. I twisted round them but Calchas reached out, caught hold of my cloak and pulled me back.
“We need to make sacrifices to Apollo,” he said, spitting the words into my face.
I pushed him away but stumbled into a stack of spears, giving Calchas chance to grab the edge of my cloak.
He shrieked at me. “I told him the omens were not good. I told him this morning, but he wouldn’t listen.”
I plunged forward and dragged him, like oxen pulling a plough, but Calchas held on. Then the catch on Lysander’s brooch broke, and I slipped out of the cloak and headed towards the group of Ithacans. Agenor was there, leading Odysseus’ black horses away. He looked round and watched me, but he didn’t smile. No one was smiling.
“Where’s Odysseus?” I cried.
As if in slow motion, almost everyone in the group turned to stare at me.
“Where’s Odysseus?”
The group parted. I saw Big Ajax lifting a body from the chariot. My brother looked small as the huge warrior carried him into our hut and placed him gently on the wooden pallet that served as his bed. I knelt beside him and touched his face. He was cold and motionless, except for the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
Then Antilochus was with me, pouring out desperate words in an attempt to give comfort. “Ellissa’s gone for Machaon. It might not be as bad as it looks. You know how good Machaon is. He’ll be able to do something…”
He continued like this while we waited for the healer and I stared at the large gash in my brother’s side, already roughly patched up by Hyppos. Then I concentrated on the long white line running down his left thigh, the scar of an old wound from the tusk of a savage boar, obtained as a fourteen year old on his first boar hunt. I hoped it was proof that Odysseus was well protected by his patron goddess, Athena.
It was my wicked old grandfather Autolycus who’d given the Odysseus a broken spear, along with orders to hunt down the dangerous beast that had already killed many experienced hunters. Afterwards, Grandfather claimed the mission was to test my brother’s suitability as a warrior, but my mother knew too well his tricks and lies. She knew her father could prove white was black and black was white. She had no doubt Autolycus wanted Odysseus killed, to avoid parting with the gifts he’d promised when he reached manhood. I moistened a cloth and wiped Odysseus’ face. His mistake was to underestimate his grandson. Odysseus killed the boar and claimed his reward of gold, as well as the promised gifts.
Antilochus gripped my shoulder, but gave up on his words of comfort. We waited like this for a ve
ry long time. Why were Machaon and Ellissa taking so long? Through the silence I heard a man cough outside the door.
I glanced at Antilochus. “Has Agamemnon got men out there?”
“There’s probably nothing sinister in it,” he said, trying to sound unconcerned. He walked quietly to the door and glanced outside. Looking back at me, he held up four fingers and then disappeared from view.
“You’re Mycenaean, aren’t you?” I heard him say.
There were several grunts in reply.
“So why are you standing here? I’m sure if guards were needed, the Ithacan army could spare four men to watch their king.”
There was a short pause and then one of the men cleared his throat and spoke up in a stiff, expressionless manner. “King Agamemnon has given us strict instructions to guard his loyal friend and comrade, King Odysseus. He says we are to give his Ithacan allies any help they need.”
Odysseus would have appreciated that reply and no doubt repeated an embellished version of it for years to come. I walked to the door, intending to order the Mycenians away, when the tight knot in my stomach relaxed slightly. Ellissa was rushing back, with Machaon following.
Machaon made it clear he didn’t want any help from me. “You’re better away from here. Pray to Apollo, if you want to be useful.”
“We’ll give him our best care,” Ellissa said, gently pushing me to the door. “Afterwards you and I need to look after him, so go to Io now and ask her to make up some food to last us through the night.”
I nodded and found Antilochus and Phoebus talking together outside, watching the Mycenaean guards marching back to Agamemnon’s camp.
Antilochus pointed to Phoebus. “Phoebus told them he’d stand guard instead. They were reluctant at first, but Phoebus was very convincing.”
“Oh, I won’t be reporting anything Agamemnon doesn’t know already,” Phoebus said, sitting down on a large wedge of wood near our door.
I glanced around the Ithacan tents. Medon wasn’t due back before dusk and there were little more than thirty Ithacian soldiers in camp, with almost half of those inactive because of injuries. Hyppos and the other men from the scouting party looked at us, waiting for news of Odysseus.
“I’m not sure what to do. I have to tell them something.”
Antilochus thought for a moment. “I’ll come with you. We’ll inform them Medon is to take command for the next few days. If they report to him this evening, then they’ll have their orders and feel better for it.”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
“And you? “Antilochus said softly. “Odysseus asked my father to protect you if he died. Has he told you that?”
I nodded.
“Father will keep his promise. You’ll be cared for … and Ellissa too. You have nothing to fear in that respect.”
I tried to reply, but my throat tightened and seemed to strangle my voice. I simply nodded again.
Antilochus smiled and took my arm. “Then if you’re ready, we’ll go and talk to your men.”
They saw us approach and got to their feet. Hyppos looked at me expectantly. “Lord Odysseus?”
For a brief moment, he reminded me of Philoctetes the Archer’s charioteer when Machaon tried in vain to heal the snakebite. Charioteers and warriors worked as a team and Medon had his own man to drive his chariot. I forced him a smile.
Antilochus reassured the group that Odysseus was being cared for and camp matters were in hand. “So carry on as usual, except for the next few days, you’ll be given orders from Medon. Is that clear?” Every man nodded “Now, Phoebus is outside the hut and I’d like two of you to replace him at midnight. It’s to keep Agamemnon’s men from snooping round; Neomene would prefer to see a friendly Ithacan face rather than an ugly Mycenaean scowl.”
A few smiled and then several stepped forward, Epeius the carpenter and his friend Lucus among them.
“Epeius and Lucus,” I said, “you can stand guard after Phoebus.”
“But Epeius can’t fight,” one of the bowmen objected.
Epeius clenched his fists and threw the man a dark look.
“It was a joke! Didn’t mean anything,” the bowman cried, holding up his hands and backing away.
“Epeius, you’ve made your point. At midnight don’t bother with your sword and spear, but remember to bring your fists,” I said, trying another smile. I knew how my brother used humour to relax his men and was surprised to find I’d copied his way without thinking. I took a breath. “The rest of you will get your chance on the following nights. In the meantime, keep singing the shepherd’s song. It annoys him and will force him to his feet, if only to shut you up.”
When the men dispersed, Antilochus turned to me. “That was nicely done. Now, I need to inform my father. Go back to Odysseus, and I’ll return as quickly as I can. ”
He sprinted in the direction of his camp. I’d seen the stable boy grooming a horse as we made our announcement, but now he was leading the mare towards me. I paused and waited for him.
“Lady Neomene,” he whispered, glancing around. “I’ve message from your friend, Io. She needs to speak to you urgently. Alone. She’ll be waiting at the washing stones for as long as she dares. I will come with you.”
Io was kneeling at the side of the stream, acting as though she was washing a few clothes in a slow relaxed manner.
“I thought you were never coming!” she cried, leaping up. “I thought I was too late. Agamemnon’s bodyguards were outside your hut, so I thought he’d got to you already.”
I looked at her in confusion.
She sighed and tried again. “I tried to follow you when you ran off down the beach. But Calchas said you mustn’t be disturbed. What could I do? That mule ripped my tunic, so I went to get changed and heard Agamemnon and Calchas talking.”
“About Odysseus?”
“Yes, Agamemnon was bragging about when Odysseus dies, he’ll take control of the Ithacan army and act as your protector.”
I shook my head. “If Odysseus dies … which he won’t … Nestor is taking me and Medon has command of the army. Agamemnon isn’t part of it.”
“But it gets worse. Calchas joined in. That evil priest suggested sacrificing you to Apollo, like Iphigenia, to gain better fortune and a quick end to the war. It was just a drunken ramble, but Agamemnon said it was a good idea! He was laughing and said he’d do it before the others in the camp could stop him. ”
I took Io’s hand and tried to calm her. “It was drunken talk. Even Agamemnon wouldn’t be stupid enough to hurt me when King Nestor is my guard.”
“Oh, you mustn’t underestimate his stupidity,” she warned. “I know what he’s like when he wants something. He will take it, so you must be ready. Go to the Pylos camp. Or Antilochus and Diomedes could organise a ship and crew for you, I’m sure they would. You might be able to … ”
“But I can’t run away because of a foolish idea Agamemnon and Calchas thought up over a jar of wine! I have to do all I can for Odysseus.”
“They’re certain he’s going to die. You’ll be risking your life for nothing.”
“What do they know? Or has Calchas received and deciphered a genuine oracle at last?”
“Oh, don’t joke about it! Everyone’s saying so.” Io said. “You’ve got to understand, without your brother you are nothing. Nothing. You don’t know what it’s like, you can’t even imagine, but I’ve seen what Agamemnon does to women who are nothing.”
We stared at each other until I shivered and looked away. “I understand,” I whispered. “Thank you, I’ll watch for Agamemnon and the priest.”
Io held onto my arm for a moment. “I’ve got to get back before I’m missed, but I’ll bring a supply of food when I can.” She gathered the washing into her basket. “Remember my warning. Don’t leave it too late.”
Chapter TWENTY-THREE
The Offer from a King
Machaon was striding away from our hut. I ran to catch his arm.
He turned and looked at
me. “Ah, Neomene,” he said. “Good, good. Ellissa knows what to do. Odysseus may last the night, or perhaps another day, but it won’t be long. Send a messenger if you need me.” He shook his head. “Agamemnon may rest from his battles, but I never do.”
He hurried away.
I joined Ellissa by Odysseus’ bed. “Do you agree with Machaon? That he’ll probably die?”
“Machaon knows the body but not the mind,” Ellissa said, patting my hand. “We’ve seen it before, haven’t we? He gets so absorbed in his potions, he forgets the man. He’s ignored your brother’s talent for turning a bad situation into good. Odysseus may surprise us.”
I smiled. I wasn’t prepared to accept Machaon’s dismissal of him either. I listened to Phoebus and Agenor talking in low voices outside and thought for a moment. “I’ve an idea that might save his life.”
“Tell me and I’ll do what I can.”
“If Machaon can’t help, we need …”
The door opened. I gasped with relief to see Antilochus. He drew up a chair and spoke quietly. “My father wants you to stay in our camp, just until Odysseus recovers. You’ll be well looked after and he’ll send Gala to assist Ellissa. It’s only a precaution, with those Mycenaean guards lurking around. It doesn’t mean we think he will die.”
I looked at his handsome face and I wanted to go with him. I wanted him to take control. See to everything. Make it safe and comfortable. I imagined being surrounded by Antilochus, Thrasymedes and Old Nestor and the weight on my shoulders lifted for a moment. But I heard myself reply, as if the words were spoken by another person. “Not yet, I have to do what I can for Odysseus.”
“I told Father you wouldn’t leave,” Antilochus said. “Medon’s returned and he knows the situation. He’ll see your boxer and his friend replace Phoebus at midnight. In the morning, I will send Gala to help you and we’ll make another decision then. Is that acceptable?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Agamemnon has called a war council, so I’ll be tied up with that for most of the evening. But it will give me chance to talk with Diomedes and discover what Agamemnon is thinking.”
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