Beware of Greeks

by Peter Tonkin

  ‘She is unwell but will only allow herself to be attended by her old nurse.’

  Odysseus nodded. ‘Sick youngsters often seek the reassurance of a familiar face. Let’s hope the illness is not serious.’

  ‘Let’s hope it’s not the work of whoever has the distillation of hemlock,’ I added. ‘For whoever they are, they seem to have easier access to the women’s quarters than we do. Or Captain Adonis does, come to that.’

  So much of the night had passed that it seemed hardly worthwhile to go back to bed. The five of us stayed together, therefore; we four servants accompanying our king and captain to his private chamber where there was wine and water to drink but as yet nothing to eat. Unsurprisingly, we were all chary of drinking the wine, though it smelt perfectly fine. There was sufficient seating to accommodate us all, Odysseus and myself perching on the edge of his bed. ‘Leaving Princess Deidamia on one side for the moment, the first thing it would be good to get clear,’ said Odysseus, ‘is whether the murders of Dion and his apprentice are part of whatever is going on here in the palace.’ He was really just musing to himself, but we four all frowned with thought as we tried to reason an answer to his question.

  ***

  ‘Surely,’ I ventured, ‘we should start by asking ourselves who benefits from the deaths. If someone somehow benefits from all the deaths and attempted murders so far, then it may not matter precisely where the murders took place. My own experience suggests this. The men who came so near to killing me in Troy were eventually caught because they started trying to sell the pieces of gold and silver they had stolen from me. They demonstrated that they benefited from the robbery and were found guilty of the act through possession of the items that had been taken. Furthermore, once they were held under suspicion it was soon proved that they had been active in other places and at other times.’

  ‘What happened to them?’ wondered Elpenor.

  ‘Their leader was found guilty of all the other acts including murder. He was executed in the traditional manner: he was thrown off a cliff. The rest were imprisoned, fined and exiled.’

  ‘But this case is not so clear-cut,’ warned Odysseus. ‘We have so far very little idea of what “benefit” the murderer might be expecting. Especially if the “benefit” in question is negative rather than positive. By which I mean that they may hope to stop something happening rather than to make it happen. At first glance, to stop Peleus and Lycomedes joining forces, presumably to stand against Agamemnon’s attempts to drag them into the war he is planning against Troy.’ He looked around the four of us, and clearly saw very little understanding on our faces. ‘We can assume,’ he explained, ‘as I have mentioned already, that the killing of Dion and his apprentice was done by someone who wished to stop them bringing a lengthy and detailed message from Peleus to Lycomedes. But those murders only fit into the current situation if whoever did them was also trying to stop messages coming via Ajax and Hesira.’

  ‘And,’ added Elpenor, ‘if the murderer has been able to get from the ships we last knew had beached on Skopelos Island, to the palace here. Difficult on the face of it as the vessels in question don’t appear to have docked in the harbour at all.’

  ‘Yes,’ nodded the captain. ‘As well as wishing for the outcome which we might call his “motive”, our suspect—whoever that turns out to be—must have had the opportunity to commit the act. Which means,’ Odysseus paused, picking up the thread of Elpenor’s reasoning, ‘that the ships on which or near which the first two murders were done have actually arrived at Skyros, though not in the same harbour as Thalassa, as you say. And the murderer has such freedom of movement that they have been able to get from whichever ship they arrived on not only into the city and the citadel but into the palace.’

  ‘And into the forbidden women’s quarters?’ I wondered.

  ‘Not necessarily so,’ said Odysseus. ‘I admit whoever is doing this, either as an individual or with a confederate, seems to go about wearing women’s clothing and veils. But that by no means proves they are actually women. Or, therefore, that they are moving freely into and out of the women’s quarters. Though of course that does remain a possibility. Moreover, it seems to me that any man—indeed any person—who has such freedom of movement between Lycomedes’ harem and the common parts of the palace could only have such freedom if they had an unimaginably powerful hold over the king.’

  ‘Would that explain the frustration expressed by Queen Larisa?’ I wondered. ‘She and Lycomedes seem to have been caught in the middle of some kind of a situation by these events which appear to be endangering their plans. Perhaps more than their plans. Could a couple of women hold such power, and create so much danger and confusion?’

  Elpenor shook his head. ‘Surely the culprit must be a man, whether he has such a hold over the king or not. I cannot conceive of a woman who would be willing or able to do such murderous things. Cutting a boy’s throat, stabbing his master and pushing him overboard, attempting to poison Prince Achilles, stealing a dagger presented to the king and using it to murder his physician.’ He shook his head. The others nodded their agreement.

  Odysseus looked at them for a moment. ‘Next time you bump into King Nestor,’ he said, ‘ask him to tell you all about Princess Medea of Colchis. He knew her well and is still trying to recover from the experience. No; I am certain that a woman might well be capable of these acts, were she driven to them by sufficiently powerful forces.’

  ‘But,’ I said, ‘Surely the only woman we know to be closely involved in this situation, apart from Lycomedes’ senior wife Larisa, Rhea the nurse and perhaps the sickly Princess Deidamia, is Queen Thetis. But we know the murderer cannot be her, no matter how she might be motivated, because she sailed north when Dion sailed south the day after Ajax left Phthia, a couple of days before we arrived. She went seeking Prince Achilles on Mount Pelion where he and Patroclus are extending their education. Besides, what sort of a hold could she have over King Lycomedes? It’s inconceivable!’

  iii

  ‘Yes,’ said Odysseus. ‘I had forgotten that she sailed north. Still, it would be a good idea to try and find out what ships from Phthia did arrive here, when, where and who was aboard them. From what we overheard King Lycomedes and Queen Larisa say, I don’t think we’ll have too much trouble in getting permission to leave the court for a while. Besides…’ he fell silent, clearly deep in thought.

  ‘Besides, Captain?’ prompted Elpenor.

  ‘Besides, when I was talking to Lord Hypatios I noticed something that struck me as strange.’

  ‘What was that?’ I asked.

  ‘Horses. He smelt quite strongly of horses.’

  ‘That’s not so strange,’ said Elpenor. ‘There’s a stable right beside the Harbourmaster’s office. I noticed it when you sent me to talk to him about docking fees and so-forth.’

  There was no real need for further discussion. The captain dismissed us to wash, dress and prepare for the day while he did the same, then sent a message to King Lycomedes. ‘He’s agreed,’ said the captain as we all met up in the megaron later and he joined us in our basic morning meal of bread, oil, olives and cheese. ‘We have the freedom of the island and as much of the day as we need. I must warn my rhapsode, however, that he will be required to practise his art at tonight’s feast.’ He looked at me with the ghost of a smile. ‘So I hope you have a clean chiton as well as an outstanding song planned and you are ready to perform it, because you’ll get no chance to rehearse today if you’re planning on coming with us.’

  Only the captain was used to horses. His men and I had had little experience of them but the owner of the stable had several mules and a donkey as well as a couple of work-horses and the powerful stallion he had hired to another aristocratic visitor the night before. He had also hired two of the mules to the lord’s servants. The horse seemed pretty well-rested, as did the mules which had accompanied it. ‘He can’t have gone all that far or all that fast,’ mused Odysseus, easing himself in the saddle. ‘Perh
aps a league; perhaps less. He can’t have been out of the palace for that long either.’

  ‘That’s right, my lord,’ the owner of the stable assured him. ‘The horses, chariot and wagon are usually made available for them up in the palace. But the three strangers made use of the horse and the mules last night. A good price, and I was satisfied. They promised they would stay on the flat and return the beasts by moonset, which they did, so they can’t have gone all that far or ridden the animals too hard; not by moonlight even though the moon was full and very bright last night.’

  These facts were of great relief to me—and, I suspected, to the others. None of us shared the captain’s confident ease astride. In fact, in a covered area behind the stable itself there stood the wagon and the chariot side by side with tack for the work horses to pull them and I supposed that I was by no means alone in thinking of asking Odysseus to hire either one of these conveyances for us to ride in instead. But none of us did. We just mounted up and got ready to go. I was only grateful that my donkey’s legs were so short that my feet were reassuringly close to the ground so I was not too likely to fall off. That was before I realised that it was not the foot-end of my legs that I should be worried about. I also felt the gods smile on me in the matter of my donkey’s quiet and biddable nature. It seemed quite happy to follow the horse and the mules, thus requiring almost no guidance from my nervous and ill-tutored fists on its long leather reins. I was less certain about the gods’ goodwill when my ride sprang into motion, however, bouncing me up and down in the saddle like a child enthusiastically bouncing an episkyros ball.

  Almost immediately after we set out it became obvious that the direction Hypatios and his men must have taken was dictated by the terrain as well as by the moonlight and their assurances to the stable-owner. Unless the little troupe was riding mountain goats able to see at night, they could only follow the roadway leading down the centre of the valley that formed the wasp-waist of the island. On either hand, at varying distances, stood sheer mountain walls. The occasional precipitous valley reached mysteriously away between the peaks and one or two farmsteads sat perched high on the hillsides overlooking the broad, well-watered fields. The road we were following wound between these, allowing us a pleasant view of the kind of life Lycomedes’ rhapsode, and indeed my own master Stasinus, loved to sing about. Except that there were hard-working farmers, their wives and families here tending their crops of almonds, lemons and olives; their pigs, goats and cattle. Weeding their fields of wheat and barley while their vines clothed the lower slopes. Their sheep grazed the higher ones, apparently with only the occasional shepherd in attendance and never a willing nymph, a randy faun or an amused deity anywhere in sight.

  ***

  About half way across, when we had travelled perhaps ten stadia, we found ourselves riding through an untended and overgrown area. It was as well watered and fertile as all the rest, and should have been highly productive but apparently it had been let go to ruin. It was surprising to find this wilderness in the middle of so much abundant fruitfulness. The strangeness was further emphasised by the fact that there was a sizeable if derelict farm-house up on the vine-covered slopes overlooking the fields, seeming to watch them dejectedly as they ran so riotously to seed. ‘It’s so sad to see such neglected fields,’ I said to Odysseus, just making a remark for something to say and not thinking all that much about it.

  ‘These are the fields that belonged to Theseus,’ he said.

  ‘This is the farm he planned on retiring to after his exile from Athens all those years ago?’ I asked, deeply shocked.

  ‘The very same,’ he answered. ‘And I understand all was going well, even though a quiet island farm must have seemed like quite a come-down to one of the greatest and most popular heroes of all. Until the accident, that is.’

  ‘The accident?’

  ‘I thought you knew. You seem to know how most of his contemporaries met their ends. He was up there somewhere, apparently,’ Odysseus pointed to the sheer slopes above the sorry-looking farm house. ‘Surveying his new kingdom. Quite a step down as I said from his last one which comprised of Athens and the whole Attic peninsula. But by all accounts he was philosophical about his new position and looking forward to a quiet life as a farmer. Or at least that’s what Lycomedes says. After all, he’d had adventures rivalled only by Hercules’, and he’d managed to surpass even Hercules in some regards. He was certainly a great deal more popular. There was nothing more he wished to accomplish. He’d had enough of leading armies and ruling kingdoms. So he came here seeking peace and contentment. Then he really took a step down. Literally. As I understand it, he slipped when he was walking near the edge of a precipice. Unlucky rather than careless, unless he had managed to upset one of the gods, of course. But, over the edge he went. And fell. More than a stadion straight down onto a steep slope covered in sharp rocks. There wasn’t much left of him when they found the body so I’m told. But Lycomedes had his remains sealed in a great bronze coffin fitting to house the body of such a man. Gave him a prodigious funeral. Terrible way for a great hero like that to go, though. Sent waves of shock through the whole of Achaea.’

  This story took us to the end of the road where the valley we were following broadened and we all paused on a low ridge that backed the lazy slope down to the sea and looked around. On our left there was a craggy eminence with another citadel on top of it. There was a roadway accessing this up a steep gradient on the landward side, but on the seaward side its outer wall simply extended sheer black cliffs plunging straight into the surf. On our right, the distant hillslopes were less sheer and undulated away like great rocky green waves frozen in place. In front of us lay a double bay, two half circles divided by a short, fat isthmus. The bay on the right was empty but the left-hand one beneath the citadel, was providing safe anchorage for two ships. We didn’t need the captain to point out that these were the two we were looking for; the ones Lord Hypatios had almost certainly visited by moonlight last night while we were searching the palace, half convinced that he might be the murderer dressed as a woman, while his two servants ran around the place, similarly disguised, planning to finish the job the poison had started on Ajax. There they sat, anchors down, oars shipped and sails furled, easily riding the incoming swell, a short wade out from the beach. ‘It’s odd,’ said Elpenor,’ but I could swear those ships are deserted.’

  Odysseus gently kicked his horse into motion and we followed him down, dismounted stiffly and tethered our mounts by weighting their reins with heavy rocks, not that they showed much inclination to do anything other than crop the spiky, unappetising sea-grass there. Although the two ships made an arresting sight, the captain seemed more interested in the beach; to begin with at least. He strode down onto it with us all close behind him, then he stopped and looked around. The beach was narrow and rocky. Rocks no doubt extending out beyond the tide line explaining why the ships were anchored rather than run ashore. In between the rocks and pebbles, however, were the remains of two sizeable camps. Fire pits pocked the sand with their black throats in the midst of marks which could only have been left by tents. Two latrines dug, one on either side of the encampment. One part shielded by a makeshift wall of bushes. This beach was by no means as sandy as the others we had come across so far but it still gave a clear message of a hundred men or so who had come ashore and waited here. Almost certainly the same crews as had come ashore on Skopelos, with the same demands for privacy. But they waited no longer. Or, if they still waited it was neither here nor aboard.

  iv

  Odysseus looked up and down the beach. ‘I can see plenty of footsteps showing where people came ashore from the ships and stayed on the sand,’ he said. Then he turned. ‘And although the place looks deserted, I can see the same footsteps treading a path up to the citadel. If they’re not on the boats or the beach, that’s where they must be.’

  ‘Are you thinking of going up there to ask them what’s going on, Captain?’ asked Elpenor.

 
‘Yes,’ said Odysseus. ‘It’s the logical thing to do. But I’m going to inspect the ships first.’ He turned to face the sea, where the ships’ painted eyes stared unblinkingly at him. ‘Ahoy the ships!’ he bellowed. Then he put his hands round his mouth to form a trumpet. ‘AHOY!’ After a few moments when there was no reply, he turned to Elpenor and continued in his normal speaking voice, ‘I’ll take the boy with me. Do you all want to stay or come?’

  Elpenor glanced at the others. ‘We’ll stay if it’s all the same with you, Captain. We can guard your backs.’

  ‘Guard our backs!’ chuckled Odysseus as we waded out towards the first vessel. ‘Lie on the sand, relax and gossip, more likely! It’s a basic and timeless rule among the men in any crew or army I have ever served with: Never volunteer.’

  The ships were larger than Odysseus’ lean war vessel Thalassa. They were higher-sided and broader in the beam. Each one had a rope ladder hanging down the side so that the crew could get back aboard easily when they returned from wherever they were at the moment. Odysseus scrambled up the nearest then reached back down to lend me a hand. The first thing I noticed as I stepped aboard was that this vessel was fully decked. From my new vantage point I could see that her sister was as well. I was used to decked ships, freighters from my father’s fleet. So, while the captain gave the main deck a cursory inspection, I found the hatch that led to the main companionway aft and raised its cover. Had this actually been one of my father’s ships, there would have been a much larger hatch here and another larger still on the foredeck to allow cargo to come aboard and go ashore. This kind of access was facilitated by the fact that there were no oars or oarsmen on cargo vessels: Father’s fleets were entirely reliant on the wind. But this was no more a freighter than it was a warship; it seemed like something in between. I went down the ladder into the below-deck area. It was quite bright in here because the oar-holes were all open and the oars retracted, lying across the benches from side to side. Further back on this level there were accommodation areas, and I suspected there would be similar but smaller areas at the narrow bows, for storage if not accommodation. Below the hatch in the main deck was another that opened down from the oar-deck. Below this in the dark and smelly area just above the bilge where the equipment needed for overnighting ashore was kept together with spare cordage, rope and squares of linen to fix the sail, I discovered something I was not expecting. I found it because of a couple of circumstances which proved that the gods were smiling on me. A beam of light fell vertically from the hatch in the main deck straight through the hatch in the oar-deck. It was bright enough to show me that the overnighting equipment was all gone, which was hardly a surprise given the state of the beach and the crew’s continued absence. But what I found was also revealed because it had just been dropped from the oar-deck without much thought. It lay on top of the cordage and spare sail-sections, strikingly out of place. Two bags which had just been slung down here. They had not been hidden, just discarded together with a couple of tunics, sandals and a formal himation robe.