Scyros lay less than a day’s voyage away on the other side of Euboea, and by sunset they were cruising into a wide bay crammed with fishing vessels and a few larger ships. Eperitus was leaning against the bow and looking up at the high, craggy hill that dominated the harbour. Halfway up was Lycomedes’s palace, shrouded in shadow as the sun sank behind the island. It faced east across the Aegean, and from its lofty seat visitors could be seen long before they pulled into the bay below. Indeed, by the time they had anchored and climbed up to the copper-plated gates of the citadel, the king was waiting to welcome them.
He was a tall man with a pinched nose and close-set eyes, and from the moment he saw the forced smile on his bearded lips Eperitus knew he could not be trusted. After giving his name and his lineage, Lycomedes invited each of the three kings to do the same; and though his eyebrows arched a little – especially as Nestor and Ajax declared themselves – he showed little surprise at receiving such renowned guests. He also politely asked the names of the men who accompanied them – Eperitus first, then Arceisius, Antiphus and Eurybates – before inviting the whole party to a feast in the great hall. First, though, he ordered his squire and an entourage of slaves to show the guests to a wing of the palace where rooms had been prepared for them, and where they could refresh themselves before the feast.
After they had bathed and changed their clothing they were taken to a small, dark chamber – which reminded Eperitus of Laertes’s hall in Ithaca as he had first seen it – where Lycomedes was waiting for them. Several nobles and courtesans were seated on either side of the hearth and a bard sang about the exploits of Heracles from beside the throne, while the guests were brought wine and newly sacrificed meat fresh from the spit.
‘Scyros rarely receives a visit from men of your rank or calibre,’ the king admitted as he tore the fat from a leg of lamb with his teeth, leaving his wiry beard glistening with the grease. His shrewd, light-green eyes came to rest on Nestor. ‘And we are greatly honoured, of course. But now that you’re bathed and fed, hopefully to your satisfaction, I’m intrigued to know the purpose of your journey here. An insignificant island like Scyros can offer little of military worth to the expedition against Troy. Besides, I wasn’t one of the oath-takers, being happily married with five daughters when the courtship of Helen took place, so there’s no obligation upon me . . .’
‘Nor me,’ Nestor responded. Being an old warrior with many notches on his spear, he could tell a coward when he met one and it made the taste of the meat and wine sour in his mouth. ‘I was at home in sandy Pylos with my wife and children when the oath was taken, though I have joined the expedition out of a belief in its wider cause – to avenge the dishonour done to Menelaus and to ensure that such outrages are not tolerated in the future. But we have not come to call upon your armies, Lycomedes. We are here to find Achilles, who is rumoured to be on Scyros, and invite him to join us against Troy.’
There was a pause as Lycomedes laid down his leg of lamb and looked at the kings, smiling calmly and patiently.
‘Unfortunately, my friends, Achilles has never been to Scyros,’ he informed them confidently. ‘Therefore I regret to say you have travelled in vain. But if you want to stay the night and search the palace in the morning, then you’re more than welcome.’
Eperitus sensed that Lycomedes was challenging them. He was lying of course, and was fully aware his guests knew it, but he was so sure they would never find Achilles that he hardly seemed to care.
‘We accept,’ Odysseus said, raising another krater of wine to his lips. ‘Who knows what we might find tomorrow? Besides, it’s too dark now to sail back to Aulis, so we should enjoy the chance to sleep in proper beds covered in sheepskins and furs. And with your permission, I will go to mine now.’
Odysseus stood and was followed by the others, who were keen to return with him to their quarters and discuss what they had seen and heard. But as Lycomedes stood with them, Eperitus could see that his gaze was focused entirely on Odysseus, perhaps sensing that the least of the three kings would prove the most troublesome.
They woke late the next morning and took their breakfast on the flat roof of the palace. From here, with the sun already hot in the sky above them, they could pick out the Ithacan sailors on the galley in the harbour below. Other vessels – fishermen and merchant ships – were visible further out on the white-capped waves of the Aegean.
Ajax leaned back in his chair, which strained to contain his huge torso.
‘What a waste of time,’ he said, the disappointment in his voice clear. ‘The fleet could be on its way to Troy by now.’
‘We won’t be ready to sail for three or four weeks yet,’ Eperitus said. ‘You’ve seen the levies most of the kings have brought – half-trained at best, and many have never held a shield and spear in their life. They’re farmers and fishermen, Ajax, not soldiers; they need to be trained if they’re to stand a chance of survival in Ilium.’
‘Ach, they’ll soon learn how to fight on the battlefield,’ Ajax sniffed. ‘Ares has a way of sorting the men from the girls, when the arrows are flying and the ground is thudding with approaching hooves. Besides, what’s the point of these levies anyway? We’re the ones who do the real fighting – the kings and nobles, and the trained warriors like your lads there.’
He nodded towards Arceisius, Antiphus and Eurybates, who forgot the joke they had been sharing and tried to look as serious and warlike as they could.
‘You’re too harsh, Ajax,’ said Odysseus. ‘Every man has to be given a chance to survive, or who will farm our fields when we get back home? There’s not much glory to be had in steering a team of oxen all day long, or tying up wheat sheaves at harvest time.’
‘Odysseus is right,’ Nestor added. ‘Besides, whatever you may think about our levies, Ajax, we can’t leave without sorting out the provisioning of the army. The walls of Troy won’t fall in a day, so we need to arrange supplies of food, wine, clothing, replacement armaments, horses, timber, canvas, and a thousand other things. War isn’t just about lopping men’s heads off and taking their armour: we need to assess the information Odysseus, Menelaus and Eperitus brought back with them; calculate the best way to attack; decide on our tactics if things go against us – all the mundane groundwork that will prevent the Trojans from routing us as soon as we land on their beaches. I remember my first fight against the Eleans after I stole their flocks and cattle. I was a teenager then, and when I saw their army ranged against us I thought it was going to be a glorious day’s killing. But they out-thought us and, for a while, they out-fought us, until I called on Ares and he stoked my blood up. I killed a fair few Eleans from my chariot after that, and I learned a few things about how to use my shield and spear, too. But that was nothing compared with what I learned about being prepared for a fight.’
‘Pah!’ Ajax replied with a wave of his hand. ‘You still won, didn’t you? And it doesn’t change the fact that we’ve had a wasted journey. Achilles isn’t here, and we might as well say our farewells to Lycomedes and get back to Aulis – the sooner we’re back, the sooner you two can waste time training those hopeless peasants you set so much store by.’
‘Surely we’re not giving up yet?’ asked Eperitus. ‘For one thing I think Calchas is right, and for another it’s obvious Lycomedes is lying. If you ask me, Achilles is right here under our noses, but in a place few would expect to find him.’