Beware of Greeks

by Peter Tonkin

  ***

  I simply didn’t know what to do at first. I gasped with shock. My heart lurched into that sickening rhythm once more. Frozen in place with my mind racing uselessly like a songbird flying round a cage, I stood and watched them. If they glanced my way they clearly did not see me. In stead they turned the other way and began to move slowly and silently towards Ajax’ door. Horrific pictures and possibilities leapt into my whirling mind. Whichever of them had killed Hesira had stolen one of the daggers Odysseus brought for King Lycomedes. They must have done so during the time that the megaron was left empty while everyone ran to see what the matter was with Ajax. What if they had stolen more than that lethal dagger? There had been matching swords—their blades far longer and probably just as sharp. None of the men in Ajax’ room was armed or wearing armour. They would stand no chance at all against two swords, even ones wielded by women.[IW4]

  My reeling mind had taken me this far before I realised that one glaring fact. It had been there, right in front of me but I somehow missed it—like a hunter so focused on the boar in the bushes that he does not see the lion behind the tree. Whoever had murdered the physician and probably sent the poisoned wine therefore, and these two preparing to murder Prince Ajax and King Odysseus, were women! They were wearing the long eastern robes and veils demanded by King Lycomedes and favoured by his wives, concubines and daughters, their servants and slaves. I suddenly remembered King Nestor’s comment, too: that he had known Medea—who killed and dismembered her brother dropping him piecemeal overboard to slow pursuit; who murdered her own children in revenge against the errant Jason then poisoned his new wife Glauce and her father Creon before making good her escape. Truly she was the witch-queen of poisoners! It was as though the monstrous woman was reborn, together with an equally murderous assistant!

  ‘My Lord!’ I called. ‘Captain Odysseus! Look out!’ As I spoke, I was in action, running as best I could up the corridor towards the murderous pair. They whirled, side by side, looking back at me. I knew the danger. If I was right about the swords I was a dead man. But I did not slow. ‘King Odysseus!’ I called again. ‘Look out!’

  The brightness from the door darkened and Odysseus was standing there. The women swung back to look at him. ‘What…’ he called.

  They whirled once more, their robes spreading around them like black smoke and vanished back down the corridor they had come out of. ‘After them!’ rapped Odysseus. As though he was talking to me, I threw myself into the mouth of the passage, chasing the shadowy figures as best I could but I was soon overtaken by the price’s servant. He carried a lamp which he kept slowing down to screen with his hand. Then Odysseus himself came past me, moving faster—less concerned about the flame of his lamp which flickered and died as he overtook the servant. But then I could see why this was. The passage we were following opened at the end into the outer air. Into moonlight and starlight, against which for a moment, two black shapes flickered like bats in flight. Odysseus’ frame blocked the pallid moonlight next, then the servant’s. Then, last, I came limping out into the night myself.

  As I exited the shadowy constriction of that strange tunnel, my footsteps faltered. I slowed, then stopped altogether. I stood, stunned with awe at the vastness of the night. The servant must have known what was coming and Odysseus was too taken up with his hunt to pay attention to it. But it stopped me as effectively as a punch in the face. Or, rather, perhaps, a punch in the belly for I was simply winded. The passageway opened onto an area the same size as the courtyard, flagged in white marble like the walls. But this vast area was not walled. There was no balustrade or bulwark around its edges. It simply finished. And where it did so, the vastness of the night began. For this was at the very top of a mountain. The palace might be standing behind me, but in front of me there was only the marble flooring, the edge, then a vast nothingness stretching away and down—and upwards, indeed, to the stars and that huge, low moon. So entranced that I forgot about the strange figures, the servant, even King Odysseus. I walked forward, watching with simple wonder how the cliff which was still invisible beneath the white marble edge, allowed even my dim sight to travel northwards across a silver-surfaced bay hundreds of feet below, to the mountainous jut reaching towards Valaxa whose jagged crest swept away south-westwards seemingly just below the massive constellations of unnumbered stars.

  I had no idea that I was walking like a blind man towards the edge until Odysseus’ hand closed on my shoulder and stopped me in my tracks. ‘They’re gone,’ he said. ‘Vanished. Into the women’s quarters. Take care I don’t lose you too. That’s a nasty drop.’

  I looked down and caught my breath with shock. Just beyond my toes the marble ended and all that lay beyond it was a sheer dizzying drop straight down to the rocky shoreline of the bay so far below.

  5 - The Women’s Quarters

  i

  By the time we got back to Ajax’s room, the whole palace was up and out. Captain Adonis left the sleeping prince under guard and led us through into the megaron where most of King Lycomedes’ court and his important guests were assembled. They were keeping close to the fire pit for the still, clear night was chilly now. The vast majority of the crowd looked bleary-eyed and haphazardly dressed. This made Odysseus grunt with suspicion at the sight of the bright-eyed, perfectly turned-out Lord Hypatios when he appeared long after everybody else. ‘Could he and his men have been flitting about the place disguised in women’s clothes?’ he wondered aloud, apparently speaking to me. ‘Could they have brought hemlock with them from Phthia? They would hardly have had time or opportunity to find it here. And in any case I took the chance to look closely at the wine in the cup and the jar. I’m certain it was poisoned with a distillate rather than stems and leaves. The effects were far too powerful and rapid simply to be the result of soaking some plants in the wine. Besides, even Ajax would notice something amiss in wine whose bouquet involved actual flowers!’ He sighed. ‘And although my gifts are no doubt packed safely away in the armoury now, anyone could have stolen the dagger that killed the physician during the commotion around poor old Ajax when he first collapsed.’

  ‘King Odysseus,’ called an irritable Lycomedes appearing last except for Hypatios and most reluctantly, ‘why have you roused the entire palace like this?’

  Odysseus stopped his musings then and went over to explain matters to our host.

  And so the next section of the night passed while the palace servants scoured the common areas for the mysterious murderers and the rest of us waited in the megaron. A contingent of cooks arrived and made up the fire in the fire-pit so they could produce food and drink for the noble assembly. A few people ate; many more drank. Time crept by. Hypatios finally arrived. The warmth from the fire pit made the already sleepy men assembled there even more somnolent. Soon, the vast majority were seated on the floor, beginning to doze. But while everyone was gathered drowsily round the warmth, I noticed Lycomedes slipping away apparently unobserved by anyone other than me. I looked around for Odysseus but he was deep in conversation with Hypatios. Neither man looked happy and it was obvious that I should only interrupt their discussion in the direst of emergencies. Nestor was sound asleep, no doubt dreaming of Argo, Jason and adventures long past with long dead heroes. My interest had been piqued, however, and so I followed the king, hoping that, as I seemed to be the only person who saw him go, I too would be able to sneak out of the room unobserved.

  Lycomedes had vanished through an exit I hadn’t even noticed before. This was not only because it was immediately behind his elevated throne with its high back but also because there was a wall-hanging there. The throne and the hanging conspired to cover the mouth of a passage. A narrow opening led into a cramped passageway, ill-lit by lamps standing in occasional niches along the wall. Lycomedes paused at the first of these and took the lamp from it. Then he hurried forward, apparently deep in thought. Certainly too preoccupied to notice me creeping from shadow to shadow, keeping my careful distance behind him, breat
hing silently and moving on tip-toe. I was being careful to stay quiet as our progress was taking us further away from the restless snoring of the crowd in the megaron and the bustle of diligently searching servants. I wondered whether I should also take a lamp and decided against it at once. However, even as the notion died stillborn, the king turned into a distant opening and vanished.

  I tiptoed forward until I reached the opening the king had turned into. It proved to be the doorway into a large reception chamber. There were lamps in niches in the walls here too, and a circle of them on what looked like a chariot wheel hanging horizontally from the ceiling but even so the place was gloomy. I was just able to make out further openings in two of the distant walls which were also marked with sufficient flickering brightness to distinguish them from the dull stone surrounding them. There were various types of seating arranged around the walls but no-one was making any use of them. The king was standing in the middle of the space, face-to face with a figure dressed in long dark robes rendered anonymous by a heavy veil.

  ***

  My heart lurched. The figure was identical to those I had seen earlier this evening, at least one of whom was guilty of murdering the physician. I tensed, trying to focus my weak vision on the figure’s hands. Was there one of Odysseus’ deadly daggers there? Was there a freshly-honed sword? When the arms stirred, I almost shouted a warning to the king but fortunately I managed to keep silent. The hands moved only to lift the veil concealing the figure’s face and fold it back. The movement revealed the features of a woman. What struck me most about her was the strange combination of power and frustration. The light in the room was not good but I saw quite clearly that whoever this woman was, she was as used to command as King Odysseus, but for some reason she felt helpless at the moment. And this was seemingly nothing to do with the man standing opposite her.

  ‘What is all this commotion about?’ asked the woman. I might have had some trouble seeing her in any great detail but I had no trouble making out what she was saying. Her voice was low, but it carried: the voice of someone used to giving orders. The fact that she seemed to be addressing the king as an equal added to this effect. In her abruptness, indeed, she seemed to be treating him almost as an inferior. This was no slave or concubine, therefore; it must be a wife—and a senior one at that.

  ‘There has been murder done and attempted murder,’ explained the king.

  ‘Dangerous enough to harm our plans?’ she said.

  ‘Possibly. As you know, the court is full of Agamemnon’s emissaries at the moment. The timing could hardly be worse, independently of the fact that it was Prince Ajax who was poisoned and, it seems, King Odysseus who was instrumental in saving his life. Then he and his rhapsode searched the palace, discovered the second body, and caught a glimpse of someone dressed just as you are dressed now, as they left the murder room. Since then they have been chasing figures wearing women’s robes around the palace as well.’

  ‘Have you any idea who might be involved in such things?’ asked the woman guardedly.

  ‘Of course! And you know who is most likely to be roaming around the palace as well!’ snapped the king. ‘I wish I had never agreed to any of this. I never would have if I’d had the slightest idea how it would all turn out!’

  The woman stood silently for a moment before she continued, ‘And the successful murder?’

  ‘Hesira the physician. Stabbed to death with one of the daggers Odysseus brought as a gift to me. Though it is clear that Odysseus himself could not have done the deed. He has apparently searched the physician’s room and found nothing to reveal Hesira’s murderer.’

  ‘Hesira! That is madness! We were relying on him to tend Deidamia. To send medicines that would ease her sickness, at least, and let us administer them. Rhea can tend her as Rhea is apparently the only person the wilful little madam will allow anywhere near her. But Rhea is only the child’s nurse not a physician; and elderly into the bargain. What shall we do?’

  ‘I believe that the best thing to begin with will be to find a way to get our most unwelcome guests out of the palace for a while. Give us some space to breathe and to think how best to proceed.’

  I was so caught up in this conversation that I did not hear the footsteps behind me. I didn’t know anyone was there at all until a voice whispered, ‘You do realise that it is death to be discovered here in the women’s quarters?’

  It was only by the grace of the gods that I managed to restrain a shout of surprise. I turned, and there was Odysseus. ‘They think they know who it is!’ I hissed. ‘The murderer! They think they know!’

  ‘It would be interesting to linger and hear more of what they know or suppose they know,’ he breathed. ‘In spite of the fact that they might well understand less about what’s really going on here than they think they do. But I fear Captain Adonis will be arriving at any moment with news that the palace has been searched without result. In fact if we are caught here, the only people under serious suspicion will be you and me.’ He turned and began to walk silently and rapidly back the way we had just come. As I followed, he threw a final comment over his shoulder which served to spur me on. ‘And while I believe I would likely survive the outcome of such a discovery, I’m afraid you most certainly would not and I assure you that you do not want to face Lycomedes’ favourite form of execution!’

  ii

  I caught up with Odysseus as he paused behind the curtain at the mouth of the passage, peeping round the edge and past the throne into the crowded megaron. Then with a swift, cat-like, movement he was gone. Holding my breath, I emulated him but my progress out into the room was more like that of a three-legged dog. It seemed neither of us was observed, however. This was at least made probable by the marked absence of Lord Hypatios who was in all likelihood the only other person wide awake there. But even as I followed Odysseus out from behind the table and paused at his side, to consider the implications of the absence of one vigilant man, another one arrived. Captain Adonis strode into the megaron with a squad of guards behind him. He came straight up to us without looking either right or left. ‘We have searched everywhere except the women’s quarters and found no-one,’ he said to Odysseus. His tone was abrupt, bordering on the inappropriate.

  The captain nodded and gave a weary smile. ‘Well, as it was women we were chasing, and they vanished into the women’s quarters into the bargain, that seems hardly surprising. The women’s quarters were where you should have started.’

  ‘We’ll need the King’s specific authorisation to do that,’ Adonis said. ‘And I’m not sure he’ll be too pleased with the idea of a squad of soldiers poking around in his harem, his daughters’ rooms or the private quarters of the female servants and slaves who tend them.’

  ‘You can only ask,’ said Odysseus. ‘And choose your men with care if he does give permission. Aphrodite forfend that there should be any inappropriate poking around in the women’s private areas.’

  Adonis remained as stony-faced as his guards. ‘True,’ he said at last. ‘But at least in the mean-time we can rouse everyone here and send them back to their beds.’ He did not add And out from under my feet, but he was clearly thinking it. He nodded to the squad who began to move through the room shaking the sleepers awake and explaining that they could get back to their rooms now. They had only just begun when the rest of the servants who had been searching under Adonis’ command appeared carrying lamps with which to light the sleepy guests on their way.

  Elpenor, Perimedes and Eurylocus wearily pulled themselves to their feet as the guards roused them and then they secured a servant with a lamp to lead the four of us back to our room. But before we could actually leave, a gesture from Odysseus stopped us. Lycomedes was sitting on his elevated throne, pretending to doze, just as though his sudden reappearance, like his disappearance, had never happened. Captain Adonis certainly seemed to notice nothing amiss as he approached the royal seat and roused the seemingly somnolent monarch. What they said to each-other was inaudible beneath the bu
stle of the stirring crowd around us, but they both looked pointedly across at Odysseus and we who were standing beside him.

  Although I heard nothing of what was said, I did see the king’s lips moving as though to pronounce a word I had heard earlier. ‘Deidamia,’ I said, giving voice to what I thought he had said. ‘Who is Deidamia, Captain?’

  ‘Deidamia,’ said Odysseus glancing down at me with a frown. ‘Princess Deidamia is Lycomedes’ eldest daughter, the most beautiful of all his children and the darling of his heart.’

  ‘Is she wilful?’ I enquired, remembering the woman’s description of the girl.

  ‘Notoriously so. She apparently gets her strength of character from her mother Larisa, the king’s senior wife and the lady you saw him talking to. Why?’