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Authors: Colleen McCullough

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BOOK: The Song of Troy
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I swallowed. ‘Odysseus – I hadn’t realised – couldn’t you have told me earlier?’

‘My information is just now complete, Agamemnon.’

‘I see. Go on.’

‘Does Priam hold off purely from prudence, or is there more to it?’ Odysseus asked of no one. ‘The answer isn’t prudence. He’d give Hektor permission to come out at this moment were it not for Achilles and the Myrmidons. He fears Achilles and the Myrmidons more than the rest of our troops put together with all our other leaders. Part of his fear is rooted in certain oracles about Achilles – that he personally holds destruction for the flower of Troy. Part of it stems from the general feeling within the Trojan ranks that the Myrmidons are unbeatable – that Zeus conjured them up out of an army of ants to dower Peleus with the best soldiers in the world. Well, we all know what ordinary men are – superstitious and gullible. But both parts combined mean Priam wants a scapegoat to pit against Achilles and the Myrmidons.’

‘Penthesileia or Memnon?’ asked Achilles, face grim.

‘Penthesileia. There are mysteries surrounding her and her horse warriors and they bring women’s magic with them. You see, Priam can’t let Hektor face Achilles. Even if a Trojan victory was guaranteed by Apollo, Priam wouldn’t let Hektor face the man his oracles say holds destruction for the flower of Troy.’

There was no joy in Achilles’s face, but he said no word.

‘Achilles has rare gifts,’ Odysseus commented drily. ‘He can lead an army like Ares himself. And he leads the Myrmidons.’

Nestor sighed. ‘Too true!’

‘No need to despair yet, Nestor!’ Odysseus answered cheerily. ‘I still possess all
my
faculties.’

Diomedes – of course he was in on it already, whatever it was – sat grinning. Achilles watched me and I watched him, while Odysseus watched both of us. Then he brought the butt of the Staff down on the floor with a ring that made us jump, and when he spoke, his voice boomed like thunder.

‘There must be a quarrel!’

We gaped.

‘The Trojans aren’t strangers to the spy system,’ Odysseus went on in more normal tones. ‘In fact, Trojan spies in our camp have served me almost as well as my spies inside Troy. I know every single one of them, and feed them selected morsels to take back to Polydamas, who recruited them – an interesting man, this Polydamas, though not appreciated as he ought to be. For which we must thank the Gods who side with us. Needless to say, his spies take back only what I let them take back, such as the paltry number of soldiers we have. But for the past moons I’ve been encouraging them to send one certain snippet of gossip to Polydamas.’

‘Gossip?’ asked Achilles, frowning.

‘Yes, gossip. People love to believe gossip.’

‘What gossip?’ I asked.

‘That there is no love lost between you, Agamemnon, and you, Achilles.’

I think I stopped breathing for longer than I should, for I had to suck in air audibly. ‘No love lost between Achilles and me,’ I said slowly.

‘That’s correct,’ said Odysseus, looking pleased with himself. ‘Ordinary soldiers gossip about their betters, you know. And it’s common knowledge among them that there have been differences between the pair of you from time to time. Of late I’ve been fanning the rumour that feeling between you is deteriorating very rapidly.’

Achilles got to his feet, white-faced. ‘I don’t like this gossip, Ithakan!’ he said angrily.

‘I didn’t think you would, Achilles. But sit down, do!’ Odysseus looked pensive. ‘It happened at the end of autumn, when the spoils from Lyrnessos were divided at Andramyttios.’ He sighed. ‘How sad it is to watch great men topple over a woman!’

I clutched the arms of my chair to stay in it and looked at Achilles in mortified comradeship; his eyes were quite black.

‘Of course it’s inevitable that such a degree of ill feeling should come to a head,’ Odysseus continued chattily. ‘No one will be in the least surprised when the two of you quarrel.’

‘Over what?’ I demanded.
‘Over what?’

‘Patience, Agamemnon, patience! First I must dwell a little more fully on events at Andramyttios. A special prize was given to you as a mark of respect by the Second Army. The girl Chryse, whose father was high priest of Sminthian Apollo in Lyrnessos. He donned armour, picked up a sword, and was killed in the fighting. But now Kalchas is saying that the omens are very inauspicious if the girl isn’t returned to the custody of Apollo’s priests in Troy. Apparently we’re in danger of the God’s wrath if Chryse isn’t returned.’

‘That is true, Odysseus,’ I said, shrugging. ‘However, as I told Kalchas, I fail to see what more Apollo can do to us – he’s completely on the Trojan side. Chryse pleases me, so I have no intention of giving her up.’

Odysseus clicked his tongue. ‘Tch! I’ve noticed, however, that opposition annoys Kalchas, so I’m sure he’s going to renew his exhortations that the girl be sent to Troy. And to help him out, I think we’d better have an outbreak of plague in our camp. I have a herb which makes a man very ill for about eight days, after which he recovers completely. Very impressive! Once the plague breaks out, Kalchas is bound to increase his demands that you give up Chryse, sire. And, faced with the full force of the God’s anger in the form of disease, Agamemnon, you
will
acquiesce.’

‘Where is this going?’ asked Menelaos, exasperated.

‘You’ll see very shortly, I promise.’ Odysseus focused his attention upon me. ‘However, sire, you’re no petty princeling to have your legal prize so arbitrarily removed. You are the King of Kings. Therefore you will have to be compensated. You might argue that, as the Second Army gifted you with the girl, the Second Army must replace her. Now from the same spoils a second girl was allotted – rather highhandedly – to Achilles. Her name is Brise. All the Kings plus two hundred senior officers saw how much our King of Kings would have liked her for himself – more than he wanted Chryse, as a matter of fact. Gossip travels, Agamemnon. By now the whole army knows that you preferred Brise to Chryse. However, it’s also widely known that Achilles has developed a very deep regard for Brise, and would be loath to part with her. Patrokles, you see, goes round with a woefully long face.’

‘Odysseus, you’re treading a very thin line,’ I said before Achilles could speak.

He ignored me, swept on. ‘You and Achilles are going to quarrel over a woman, Agamemnon. I’ve always found that disputes over women are accepted without question by all and sundry – after all, let us admit that such disputes are extremely common, and have caused the deaths of many men. If one might presume, my dear Menelaos, one could include Helen in the catalogue.’

‘Do not presume!’ my brother growled.

Odysseus blinked. Oh, he was a reprobate! Once launched, no one could restrain him. ‘I myself,’ he said, thoroughly enjoying himself, ‘will undertake to set a few omens beneath our worthy priest Kalchas’s nose, and I myself will manufacture the plague. I promise you, the sickness will fool Podalieros and Machaon! Terror will stalk our camp within a day of the outbreak. When you’re informed of its seriousness, Agamemnon, you’ll go at once to Kalchas and ask him what has vexed which God. He’ll like that. But he’ll like your request for a public augury even more. In front of the army’s senior ranks he’ll demand that you send Chryse to Troy. Your position, sire, will be quite untenable. You’ll have to acquiesce. However, I’m sure no one will blame you if you take offence when Achilles laughs at you. During a public augury? Intolerable!’

By this we were beyond speech, though I doubt Odysseus would have paused had Zeus thrown a thunderbolt at his feet.

‘Naturally you’ll be furious, Agamemnon. You’ll turn on Achilles and demand that he give you Brise. Then you’ll appeal to the assembled officers – your prize has been removed from you, therefore Achilles must yield his prize to you. Achilles will refuse, but his position will be just as untenable as yours was when Kalchas asked for Chryse. He’ll have to give you Brise, and he’ll do so then and there. But, having handed her over, he’ll remind you that neither he nor his father swore the Oath of the Quartered Horse. In front of the assembly he’ll announce that he is withdrawing himself and the Myrmidons from the war.’ Odysseus roared with laughter, shook his fists at the ceiling. ‘I have a special nook reserved for a certain furtive Trojan I know. Within the day all Troy will be aware of the quarrel.’

We sat like men struck to stone by Medusa’s glare. What storms of emotion he had unleashed in the others I could only guess at; my own storms were hideous enough. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Achilles move, and swung my attention to him, agog to know his reaction. Odysseus could unearth more secret skeletons out of secret graves and rattle them than any other man I’ve ever known. But by the Mother, he was brilliant!

Achilles wasn’t angered, which amazed me. His eyes held nothing but admiration.

‘What kind of man are you, Odysseus, to dream up such strife? It’s a wicked scheme – staggering! However, you must admit that it’s hardly flattering to Agamemnon and me. It’s our two carcasses must bear the ridicule and contempt if we do as you want. And I tell you now that if I die for it, I will not give Brise up.’

Nestor coughed softly. ‘You won’t be giving anything up, Achilles. Both young women will be handed into my custody, and with me they’ll remain until things work out as Odysseus plans. I’ll lodge them secretly, no one will know whereabouts they are. Including Kalchas.’

Achilles was still unsure. ‘A fair offer, Nestor, and one I trust. But surely you can see why I mislike the scheme. What if we do succeed in duping Priam? Without the Myrmidons to hold the van intact we’ll suffer losses we just can’t afford. I’m not exaggerating. It’s our function in battle to hold the van intact. I can’t like a plan which endangers so many lives.’ His eyes brooded. ‘And what of Hektor? I’ve vowed to kill him, but what if he should die while I’m out of the battle? And how long am I expected to be out of the battle?’

Odysseus answered. ‘Yes, we’ll lose men we wouldn’t if the Myrmidons were there. But Greeks aren’t inferior warriors. I’ve no doubt we’ll do well enough. For the moment I won’t answer your big question – how long will you be out of the battle? I’d rather speak about getting Priam outside his walls first. I ask you: what if this war drags on for years more? What if our men grow old without seeing their homes again? Or what if Priam comes out when Penthesileia and Memnon arrive? Myrmidons or no, we’ll be hacked to pieces.’ He smiled. ‘As for Hektor, he’ll live to face you, Achilles. I know it in my bones.’

Nestor spoke. ‘Once the Trojans come out from behind their walls they’re committed,’ he said. ‘They can’t withdraw for good. If they suffer heavy casualties, Priam will receive information that our casualties are even heavier. Once we lure them out, the dam will break. They won’t rest until they’ve driven us from Troy, or until the last one of them is dead.’

Achilles stretched his arms wide, the great muscles moving under his skin. ‘I doubt if I have the strength of character to refrain from fighting while everyone else does, Odysseus. For ten whole years I’ve waited to be in at the kill. And there are other considerations too. What will the army say of a man who can desert them in their time of need because of a woman – and what will my own Myrmidons think of me?’

‘No one will speak of you kindly, Achilles, so much is sure,’ said Odysseus soberly. ‘To do what I ask will take a very special kind of courage, my friend. More courage than it would take to storm the Western Curtain tomorrow. Don’t mistake me, any of you! Achilles hasn’t coloured the thing a scrap darker than it is in reality. Many will revile you, Achilles. Many will revile you, Agamemnon. Some will curse. Some will spit.’

Smiling wryly, Achilles looked at me not unsympathetically. Odysseus had managed to draw us closer together than I had deemed possible after the events at Aulis. My daughter! My poor little daughter! I sat still and cold, tasting the unpalatable role I must fill. If Achilles would look an intemperate fool, what sort of fool would I look? Was fool the right word? Idiot, more like.

Then Achilles slapped his thigh sharply. ‘It’s a heavy thing you charge us with, Odysseus, but if Agamemnon can humble himself to take his share of the load, how can I refuse?’

‘What is your decision, sire?’ asked Idomeneus, his tone announcing that
he
would never consent to it.

I shook my head, propped my chin on my hand and thought, while the rest of them watched me. Achilles broke in on my reverie; speaking to Odysseus again.

‘Answer my big question, Odysseus. How long?’

‘It will take two or three days to draw the Trojans out.’

‘Which is no answer. How long must I remain out of things?’

‘First let us wait for the High King’s decision. Sire, what is it to be?’

I let my hand drop. ‘I’ll do it on one condition. That each of you in this room takes a solemn oath to see it through to the absolute end, no matter what the end might be. Odysseus is the only one who can guide us through this maze – such scheming was never meant for the High Kings of Mykenai. It is the lot of the Kings of the Out Islands. Do you all agree to swear?’

They agreed.

With no priest present, we swore on the heads of our male children, on their ability to procreate and on the extinguishing of our lines. Heavier than the quartered horse.

‘So, Odysseus,’ said Achilles, ‘finish it.’

‘Leave Kalchas to me. I’ll ensure he does what’s expected and never knows it was expected. He’ll believe in himself as completely as the poor shepherd lad plucked out of the crowd to play Dionysos at the Maenad revels. Achilles, once you’ve handed Brise over and spoken your piece, you’ll take your Myrmidon officers and return to your compound immediately. Handy that you insisted on building a stockade within our camp! Your isolation will be easily noted. You’ll forbid the Myrmidons to leave the stockade, nor can you leave it yourself. Henceforth you’ll be visited, but never visit. Everyone will assume that those who visit you go to plead with you. At all times and to every member of your inner circle of friends you must seem an extremely angry man – a man who is bitterly hurt and utterly disillusioned – a man who thinks himself grossly wronged – a man who would rather die than patch up his relations with Agamemnon. Even Patrokles must see you like this. Is that understood?’

BOOK: The Song of Troy
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