Lord of the Silver Bow (43 page)

EPILOGUE

THE GOLDEN TORQUE

By the arrival of spring the land of Dardania was at peace. Helikaon’s soldiers had eradicated the more persistent of the outlaw bands, and with better communication between towns and settlements, grievances were dealt with swiftly, before they had a chance to fester. Community leaders, with access to officials at Dardanos, no longer felt isolated, and the feast of Persephone, welcoming the new season, was a happy one.

Queen Halysia had led the sacrifice procession to the cliff-top shrine, wearing the golden laurel crown and carrying the staff of Demeter. King Helikaon had walked beside her. The queen’s pregnancy was pronounced now, but no one commented on it. The silence was hard to bear, for Halysia believed she knew what lay behind it. Either they pitied her or they were hiding their revulsion.

Once the dancing and the singing began, she slipped away and walked back up to the fortress and the cliff-top gardens. They were unkempt and overgrown, and she decided she would spend more time there from now on, in quiet solitude, reshaping the flower beds and cutting back the shrubs. However, today she merely sat, looking out over the shimmering sea.

A servant brought her a cool drink. She thanked the girl and sent her away. Down in the bay she saw the
Xanthos
had been refloated and men were working on her decks, ready for the voyage to the west. The first ship of the new season had docked there only yesterday, carrying copper and tin. It also had brought a gift for Helikaon that had caused him to laugh aloud. A friend on Kypros had sent him an ornate bow decorated with silver thread. There was a short message: “Now you can truly be the Lord of the Silver Bow,” it read.

Halysia asked him about it. He told her about a half-starved child who had mistaken him for the god Apollo. “It seems a long time ago now,” he said.

“And you helped her?” She laughed then. “A foolish question. Of course you helped her. It is your nature.” There had been other messages from Troy, which he had shared with her. The rebel prince Agathon had been seen in Miletos, taking ship for Mykene. Prince Antiphones had been promoted to the king’s inner circle and given a new palace for his part in foiling the plot on Priam’s life.

This pleased Helikaon. “He is a good man,” he said. “I like him greatly.”

A light breeze blew across the cliff top. Halysia strolled out from the garden and along the cliff path. She could still hear the music of the pipes in the distance and the laughter of the guests. Such a good sound. There is too little laughter in the world, she thought.

She sat in the shade of an overhanging rock and watched the seabirds flocking over the
Xanthos.
Then she dozed for a while in the heat. When she awoke, the afternoon was waning toward dusk. Glancing back along the cliff path, she saw Helikaon emerge from the gardens some way in the distance. Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart began to beat faster. He had changed from the royal robes he had worn for the sacrifice to Persephone. Now he wore a simple white knee-length tunic edged with gold.

And she remembered the visions of that dreadful night, when the Mykene had raped her and murdered her son. She had almost come to believe they were inventions born of her terror. But there had been a vision of Helikaon, dressed in this tunic, seeking her on a cliff top.

Her mouth was dry, and she felt like hiding from him. He had seen her, though, and waved.

Easing herself to her feet, she waited for him. He was carrying a small package wrapped in muslin.

“I thought I would find you here, lady,” he said. “There is something we must speak of.”

“No!” she said sharply. “You must not! I know what you have there. You must not give it to me.”

He looked puzzled. “How can you know?”

“My dreams, Helikaon. You remember? The sea full of ships carrying blood-hungry men, a great city burning. Terror and despair! I saw the sky aflame and the sea rise up. I also saw you, coming to me here, and in your hands a golden necklace decorated with lapis lazuli. You understand? If you give me this, then the other visions must be true also.”

He stood quietly for a moment. “I do understand,” he said. “But listen to me, Halysia. If the visions were true, then they will come to pass whether you accept the gift or not. For I am here, and the gift is in my hand, just as your vision showed you. And, yes, one day the enemy will cross the Great Green. They will bring war and tragedy to these eastern lands. Such is the nature of vile men. Yet we cannot live in dread of them. We cannot hide behind high walls, our hearts trembling, for that is not life. We must accept the needs and the duties of each day and face them one at a time. You are the queen of Dardania, and the people love you. I am the king, and they fear me. Soon you will give birth to a child—a son, if your dreams are true. It would be better for him, for you, and for the realm if we were to be a true family. We should be wed, Halysia.”

She turned away. “You do not love me, Helikaon. And you promised yourself to wed only for love.”

He took her hand and smiled. “You are wrong. I do have love for you. Yes, and respect and admiration. If the gods will it, we will find happiness together. Or at least contentment.”

A cool breeze rustled against her gown, and she shivered. “When would we do this?” she asked.

“Tomorrow, while everyone is still gathered for the feast days.”

“I am so frightened, Helikaon.”

He drew her to him, his arms around her. “Be my wife, and I will be a shield against all your fears.”

She felt the strength of his arms and the warmth of his body, and she snuggled in even closer, feeling safer than she had in months. She sighed and closed her eyes, wanting the moment to last and last.

He stroked her golden hair, then eased her away from him, offering her the wedding gift. Halysia took it with trembling hands and opened the cloth wrapping. The necklace was exquisite, made of scores of tiny golden squares, many of them embellished with brilliantly blue lapis lazuli. Lifting it from the cloth, Helikaon draped it around her slender neck. The metal felt warm against her skin.

“It looks beautiful,” he said with a wide smile. “Now let us go inside and announce the news.” Taking her hand, he led her back along the cliff top.

As they reached the garden, she glanced back once more at the sea. Yet again, in her mind’s eye, she saw the massive fleet of enemy ships bearing down upon the eastern lands.

But for this one glorious moment she no longer cared.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

D
AVID
G
EMMELL
was born in London, England, in the summer of 1948. Expelled from school at sixteen, he became a bouncer, working nightclubs in Soho. Born with a silver tongue, Gemmell rarely needed to bounce customers, relying instead on his gift of gab to talk his way out of trouble. This talent eventually led him to jobs as a freelancer for the London
Daily Mail,
the
Daily Mirror,
and the
Daily Express.
His first novel,
Legend,
was published in 1984 and has remained in print ever since. He became a full-time writer in 1986. His books consistently top the London
Times
bestseller list.

B
Y
D
AVID
G
EMMELL
(published by Ballantine Books)

Lion of Macedon

Dark Prince

Echoes of the Great Song

Knights of Dark Renown

Morningstar

Dark Moon

Ironhand’s Daughter

The Hawk Eternal

THE DRENAI SAGA

Legend

The King Beyond the Gate

Quest for Lost Heroes

Waylander

In the Realm of the Wolf

The First Chronicles of Druss the Legend

The Legend of Deathwalker

Hero in the Shadows

Winter Warriors

White Wolf

The Swords of Night and Day

THE STONES OF POWER CYCLE

Ghost King

Last Sword of Power

Wolf in Shadow

The Last Guardian

Bloodstone

THE RIGANTE

Sword in the Storm

Midnight Falcon

Ravenheart

Stormrider

TROY

Lord of the Silver Bow

Lord of the Silver Bow
is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Copyright © 2005 by David Gemmell

All rights reserved.

Published in the United States by Del Rey Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York. Published in Great Britain by Bantam Press, London.

D
EL
R
EY
is a registered trademark and the Del Rey colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Gemmell, David.

Lord of the silver bow / David Gemmell.

p. cm. — (Troy)

1. Troy (Extinct city)—Fiction. 2. Greeks—Turkey—Fiction. 3. Trojan War—Fiction. 4. Turkey—Fiction. I. Title.

PR6057.E454L67 2005

823′.914—dc22 2005040514

www.delreybooks.com

eISBN: 978-0-345-48608-0

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