wealthy Ithacan noble
L
Lacedaemon
–
Sparta
Laertes
–
king of Ithaca
Leda
–
unfaithful wife of Tyndareus
Locris
–
region in north-eastern Greece
M
Menelaus
–
brother of Agamemnon
Menestheus
–
king of Athens
Mentes
–
Taphian warrior
Mentor
–
close friend of Odysseus
Messene
–
city in south-western Peloponnese
Mycenae
–
most powerful city in Greece, situated in north-eastern Peloponnese
Myrmidons
–
the followers of Achilles
N
Neaera
–
Helen’s body slave
O
Odysseus
–
prince of Ithaca, son of Laertes
Oechalia
–
city in Thessaly, northern Greece
Olympus
–
mountain home of the gods
Orion
–
legendary hunter
P
Palamedes
–
suitor to Helen
Pandion
–
murdered king of Alybas
Parnassus (Mount)
–
mountain in central Greece and home of the Pythian oracle
Patroclus
–
friend of Achilles and captain of the Myrmidons
Peisandros
–
Myrmidon spearman
Peloponnese
–
southernmost landmass of Greek mainland
Penelope
–
Spartan princess, daughter of Icarius
Philoctetes
–
shepherd who lit the pyre of Heracles, for which he was awarded the hero’s bow and arrows
Phronius
–
Ithacan elder
Polybus
–
henchman of Eupeithes
Polytherses
–
twin brother of Polybus
Poseidon
–
god of the sea
Priam
–
king of Troy
Pythia
–
home of the chief oracle in Greece
Python
–
giant serpent, guardian of the Pythian oracle
Pythoness
–
high priestess of the Pythian oracle
R
Rhodes
–
island in the south-eastern Aegean
S
Salamis
–
island in the Saronic Gulf, west of Athens
Samos
–
neighbouring island to Ithaca, also under the rule of Laertes
Sparta
–
city in the south-eastern Peloponnese
T
Taphians
–
pirate race from Taphos
Taygetus Mountains
–
mountain range to the west of Sparta
Teucer
–
half-brother and companion to the greater Ajax
Thebes
–
city in central Greece
Theseus
–
Athenian hero who slew the Minotaur
Thrasios
–
priest of the Pythian oracle
Tiryns
–
city in north-eastern Peloponnese
Tlepolemos
–
prince of Rhodes
Troy
–
chief city of Ilium, on the eastern seaboard of the Aegean
Tyndareus
–
co-king of Sparta and father of Helen and Clytaemnestra
X
xenia
–
the custom of friendship towards strangers
Z
Zacynthos
–
southernmost of the Ionian islands under Laertes’s rule
Zeus
–
the king of the gods
book
ONE
Chapter One
MOUNT PARNASSUS
It was a chill dawn on the foothills of Mount Parnassus. The sun rose slowly in the east, infusing the dark, empty skies with a pale radiance. A collar of mist clung to the upper reaches of the purple mountainsides, shifting restlessly with the morning breeze. Eperitus shook the stiffness from his limbs and sniffed the air, which was sharp with the savoury prick of smoke. Pilgrims, he guessed, warming themselves by freshly made fires before the trek up to the oracle.
He decided against the luxury of heat. After a frugal breakfast of cold porridge he gathered his few possessions and followed the bank of a stream that fed down from the hills. The sloping route was crooked and stony, but it gave an even footing and its steep banks were topped with twisted olive trees that hid his progress from unwelcome eyes. In his right hand he carried two ash spears, their shafts smooth and black. He also kept a sword slung in a scabbard under his left arm, its blade sharpened to a keen edge. Hanging from his shoulder was his grandfather’s ox-hide shield, given to him by the old man before his death, whilst for added protection he wore a shaped leather corselet and greaves. A bronze helmet hid his long, black hair, its cheekguards tied loosely beneath his clean-shaven chin. His only other possessions were a thick cloak of brown wool, a bag of oats and stale bread, a skin of water and a pouch of copper pieces.
For a while as he walked the only sounds were the clear water washing over the stones of the riverbed and the sighing of the wind in the trees. Birdsong greeted the winter sun as it edged above the green hilltops, and he felt a lightness in his mood that he had not sensed since leaving his home in the north. The journey to Mount Parnassus had taken several days, during which he had walked alone with sombre thoughts, pondering the fateful events that had forced him from his home. But now, with his goal only a few hours’ march away, his spirits were reviving with every step.
His peace was suddenly disturbed when harsh shouts erupted from the other side of the river, followed by the angry clash of weapons. Men cried out in fear and confusion before, as suddenly as it had occurred, the din of combat ceased and left a ringing silence in its wake.
Like most young Greek nobles, Eperitus had been taught to fight from an early age and this training came to the fore as he crouched low and glanced about himself, his spears clutched tightly in his sweating palm. Taking up his shield by its handgrip, he strained his ears for further sounds of battle. Although he had yearned to see combat for as long as he could remember, as battle lurked unseen amidst the troughs and swells of the landscape opposite he felt his mouth grow dry and the blood pump thicker through his veins.
He took a moment to calm his nerves, then splashed across the riverbed and threw himself down against the bank, his heart rampaging against the hard earth. Crawling cautiously up the slope, he eased into a position where he could spy on whatever waited beyond.
Before him lay a broad bowl scooped out of the rocky landscape, filled with scrubby grass and circumvented by a low ridge. In the centre were the remains of a disturbed camp: the ashes of an extinguished fire, some wooden dishes and a few trampled cloaks. Two bands of warriors faced each other across the debris, waiting in taut readiness for a movement from the others.
The smaller group, whose camp had been attacked, had formed a line of perhaps a dozen shields. They were half dressed and had obviously armed in a hurry, but were organized and ready to defend themselves. At their centre, casually wiping blood from the point of his spear, stood a short and powerful warrior with a chest as broad as his shield and muscular arms that looked strong enough to break a man’s spine. He was clearly of noble blood and stared at the opposing force with disdain, his eyes calm and untouched by fear.
Facing him were fully twenty men, standing in a line with the sun glinting on their raised spear points. They were too well armed to be bandits, so could only be deserters from the war in Thebes, where a siege was raging only a short march away. They had lost their discipline and looked haggard and weary. Their armour was scarred and covered in dust; some men bore the wounds of recent battles, and all looked as if they had not slept for days. Already one of them lay face-down in the dirt.