The prince shook his head: ‘And to ensure that this would not happen, you unleashed a war that lasted years, instead of saving your strength, instead of readying the armies and the fleets? I don’t understand. . I just can’t understand.’
The king drew a long breath, as the outer courtyard rang with the footsteps of the guards who had arrived to relieve their comrades on the first shift. Then he said: ‘What we needed, to ensure that this would not happen, was the talisman of the Trojans. The talisman would make us invincible; only with the talisman in our possession would we be able to gather the strength necessary to withstand the onslaught, but we needed to have it before our time was up. No army can challenge fate. The question was, how to win it from the hands of the Trojans? Well, one day your father told me that he was planning to go to Ithaca to consult Ulysses. The little king of the western islands was already famous then for his cunning, and both Agamemnon and I had good relations with him. His wife Penelope, as you know, is the cousin of your mother and your aunt Helen.
‘Ulysses was against the war, and he opposed our plan for a great expedition against Troy. He did not believe in the honesty of our intentions; he imagined it was a desire for power and conquest that animated us. That was the only way we could explain the answer he gave us. “If it is only that statue of stone that you want,” he said, “much less than a war is needed.” Nothing is more powerful in this world than a woman’s appeal over a man, he claimed. His plan was simple: invite one of the Trojan princes to Sparta and then convince Helen to seduce him and flee with him. Once inside the city she would be able to give us all the information we needed.’
‘I would have killed anyone else who had even hinted at such a proposal, on the spot, like a dog, but I realized the true significance of his words. He meant to say: “If you Atreides want to drag the entire Achaean people into total war, if you want to ask thousands of warriors to suffer and die, thousands of wives and mothers to wail over their fallen husbands and sons for the rest of their days, then you have to prove that you are ready for anything, ready to be the first to sacrifice what you hold dearest.”
‘Now this would have been right, if it were true, as he thought, that the real reason for our seeking war was our desire for power. Ulysses lived alone, you see, and hardly ever participated in the large assemblies of the continental kings. His little island was enough for him, he oversaw the work in his fields like a farmer, he sheared his own sheep and butchered his own swine. He was happy with what little he had.
‘And yet I hated him for what he had said, and I swore that I would kill him as soon as I had the opportunity.’
‘I can’t believe that my father would have dared to repeat such a request, even if Ulysses had suggested it to him,’ said Orestes, shaking his head. ‘My father was a man of honour.’
‘He was. In fact, when he returned he was gloomy and taciturn; he would not speak with me. He simply would not be persuaded to relate Ulysses’s proposal. And when he had finally told me, after my long insisting, he added immediately: “It’s a provocation. He merely wants to say that we can’t count on him, that it’s not his war. We’ll do without his help.”
‘It was then that I conceived of the idea of how I could trick the master of deception, the most astute of men. And so I said: “We won’t need to. I will do as he says.” As your father looked at me, stunned, as if I had gone raving mad, I continued: “Ulysses is right. We are asking the Achaeans to leave their wives and children, to face danger, to suffer wounds, to risk death. We must be the first to show that we are willing to pay the highest price. Tell him I will do as he suggests, on one condition: if war should break out, despite his plan, he must take part in it with his ships and his warriors and he must help us to win it.”
‘Your father looked at me as if he couldn’t believe his ears, but he could not oppose my words. He had no reason to doubt my good faith.
‘That same evening, I went to the secret chamber and met with the woman who drank with us tonight in this room. She was completely devoted to me; she obeyed me blindly, no matter what I asked her. She must have suffered enormously before I found her, so great was her gratitude. When I had explained to her what she must do, she said that it would be a great joy for her to satisfy my request. There was just one thing she was sorry about, she said, that she would not see me again for a long time, or perhaps ever again.’
Orestes listened, rapt. His long blond hair lay as still as stalks of wheat before a storm. He was hearing things he never could have imagined, was forced to confront ideas that revolted him. King Menelaus let out a deep sigh, rose to his feet and went to the window. The city slept before his eyes, and the earth slept.
‘When Paris fled back to Troy, taking her with him, we sent messengers throughout the land of the Achaeans, summoning all the kings to a war council. The abduction of a queen has always been an act of war, implicating the coalition of all our forces to avenge the offence.’
‘And Ulysses did not know this?!’ asked Orestes.
‘Certainly, but he was convinced that it would be resolved through negotiation. After all, our relations with the Trojans had always been rather good. War assemblies have often been held with the sole aim of inducing the adversary to negotiate. But Ulysses realized that he had been tricked, and then I feared that all was lost. He had come to Sparta secretly to instruct Helen about her mission to Troy. I had arranged everything to ensure that he wouldn’t notice a thing. They met in my presence, at night, by lamplight, in one of the rooms of this palace. Yet, all at once he turned to me and said: “Who is this woman?”’
‘That’s impossible!’ said Orestes. ‘He hadn’t seen Helen for years, the light was dim, the resemblance perfect. How could he have guessed?’
The king smiled. ‘Her scent,’ he said. ‘Ulysses is a sailor, and like all sailors his sense of smell is very keen. That’s how they know they are nearing land, by the smell. They know precisely what land lies before them by the odour that wafts over the waves. One day, long before then, he had kissed Helen’s hand and he had breathed in her fragrance. The woman he had before him was different. ‘I must know everything,’ he demanded. ‘Everything which regards this woman. And everything which regards Helen. You must hide nothing from me if you want our plan to succeed.’
‘I realized that he was not indignant over my deception; on the contrary, that amazing resemblance excited him. It was an irresistible challenge for his mind.’
‘I convinced the kings to entrust him with the task of going to Troy to ask for the return of Helen, and I went with him. He was very sure of himself. He said: “Paris has had what he wanted for many months. King Priam will not want to drag the city into war over the passing fancies of his son. He will oblige Paris to turn Helen over to us, and we will bring her home, along with the talisman of the Trojans.” ’
‘So why didn’t Priam return the woman?’ asked Orestes. ‘Anyone would have done so, anyone in their right mind. Priam was a wise man and a great king, esteemed by all.’
‘I don’t know. No one knows. Not even Ulysses expected a refusal. He grew visibly pale when they gave us their answer, and looked at me in dismay. I believe that Antenor was the cause. He rose up with such passion to demand that Helen be immediately returned, that Priam reacted badly. Antenor spoke in the name of the Dardans, obedient to Anchises and his son Aeneas. To the king’s ears, his demand had the ring of an imposition, coming from a minor branch of his dynasty, and he could not tolerate it in front of us and in front of the assembly of elders. If Antenor had held his tongue, Helen — or rather, the woman they thought was Helen — would have been returned to us. The war would have been avoided.’
Orestes held his head in his hands and drew a long breath: ‘There’s another reason, is there not? A hidden reason, that torments you.’