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hair gleaming in the starlight, gray eyes sparkling with desire.
He had killed her, I knew. The Golden One. Apollo. Killed her and blamed it on
me. Killed her and exiled me to this primitive time. Killed her, but saved me
for his own amusement.
"Orion?" a voice whispered.
I sat up and automatically put out a hand for the sword resting on the ground
beside me.
"The king wants you." It was Antilokos kneeling beside me.
I scrambled to my feet, gripping the sword. It was black night, with just enough
light from the dying fire for me to recognize the man's face.
"Better bring your helmet, if you have one," Antilokos said.
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r r
I reached down and took my chain-mail mantle. Poletes's eyes opened.
"The king wants to speak to me," I told the old man. "Go back to sleep."
He smiled and snuggled happily into his blankets.
I followed Antilokos past the sleeping bodies of our comrades to the prow of
Odysseus's boat.
As I had suspected, the king was much shorter than I. The plume of his helmet
barely reached my chin. He nodded a greeting to me and said simply, "Follow me,
Orion."
The three of us walked silently through the sleeping camp and up to the crest of
the rampart, not far from the gate where I had gained their respect earlier that
day. Soldiers stood on guard up there, gripping long spears and eyeing the
darkness nervously. Beyond the inky shadow of the trench the plain was dotted
with Trojan campfires.
Odysseus gave a sigh that seemed to wrench his mighty chest. "Prince Hector
holds the plain, as you can see. Tomorrow his forces will storm the rampart and
try to break into our camp and burn our ships."
"Can we hold them?" I asked.
"The gods will decide, once the sun comes up."
I said nothing. I suspected that Odysseus was trying to come up with a plan that
might influence the gods his way.
A strong tenor voice called from the darkness below us. "Odysseus, son of
Laertes, are you counting the Trojan campfires?"
Odysseus smiled grimly. "No, Big Ajax. They are too many for any man to count."
He motioned to me and we went back down into the camp. Ajax was indeed something
of a giant among these men: He towered over them and even topped me by an inch
or two. He was big across the shoulders, as well, and his arms were as thick as
young tree trunks. He stood bareheaded under the stars, dressed only in a tunic
and leather vest. His face was broad, with high cheekbones and a little pug of a
nose. His beard was thin, new-looking, not like the thick curly growth of
Odysseus and the other chieftains. With a bit of a shock, I realized that Big
Ajax was very young, probably no more than nineteen or twenty.
A much older man stood beside him, hair and beard white, wrapped in a dark
cloak.
"I brought Phoenix along," said Big Ajax. "Maybe he can appeal to Achilles
better than we can."
Odysseus nodded his approval.
"I was his tutor when Achilles was a lad," said Phoenix in a slightly quavering
voice. "He was proud and touchy even then."
Ajax shrugged his massive shoulders. Odysseus said, "Well, let us try to
convince Achilles to rejoin the army."
We started off for the far end of the camp, where Achilles's boats were beached.
Half a dozen armed men trailed behind the three nobles, and I fell in with them.
The wind was blowing in off the water, cold and sharp as a knife. I almost
envied Poletes the blankets he had wrapped around himself, and began to wonder
why I had not taken cloaks for the two of us from the tight-fisted old scribe.
Once we entered Achilles's portion of the camp, we passed several sentries on
duty, fully armed and armored, with helmets strapped on tightly and spears in
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r r
their hands. They wore cloaks, which the wind plucked at and whipped around
their suits of bronze armor. They recognized the giant Ajax and the squat but
powerful King of Ithaca, of course, and let the rest of us pass unchallenged.
Finally we were stopped by a pair of guards whose armor glittered even in the
faint starlight, within a few yards of a large cabin, built of planks.
"We are a deputation from the High King," said Odysseus, his voice deep and
grave with formality, "sent to see Achilles, prince of the Myrmidones."
The guard saluted by clasping his fist to his heart and said, "Prince Achilles
has been expecting you and bids you welcome."
He stepped aside and gestured us to the door of the cabin.
Chapter 6
MIGHTY warrior though he was, Achilles apparently enjoyed his creature comforts.
The cabin's interior was draped with rich tapestries, and the floor was covered
with more carpets. Couches and pillows were scattered across the spacious room.
In one corner a hearth fire smoldered red, keeping out the cold and damp. I
could hear the wind moaning through the hole in the roof, but inside it was
reasonably snug and warm.
Three women sat by the fire staring at us with great dark eyes. They were slim
and young, dressed modestly in sleeveless gray chemises. Iron and copper pots
stood on tripods at the hearth, faint wisps of steam issuing from them. I
smelled spiced meat and garlic.
Achilles himself sat on a wide couch against the far wall of the cabin, his back
to a magnificent arras that depicted a gory battle scene. The couch was up on a
dais, raised above the floor of the cabin like a king's throne.
My first sight of the great warrior was a surprise. He was not a mighty-thewed
giant, as Ajax. His body was not broad and powerful, as Odysseus's. He seemed
small, almost boyish, his bare arms and legs slim and virtually hairless. His
chin was shaved clean and the ringlets of his long black hair were tied up in a
silver chain. He wore a splendid white silk tunic, bordered with a purple key
design, cinched at the waist with a belt of interlocking gold crescents.
He wore no weapons, but behind him a half-dozen long spears rested against the
arras, within easy reach.
His face was the greatest shock. Ugly, almost to the point of being grotesque.
Narrow beady eyes, lips curled in a perpetual snarl, a sharp hook of a nose,
skin pocked and cratered. In his right hand he gripped a jeweled wine cup; it
seemed to me that he had already drained it more than once. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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