“Let us hear it,” breathed Priam, as faintly as a sigh.
They all looked to me.
I glanced at the assembled nobility and saw an eagerness, a yearning, a clear hope that I carried an offer that would end the war. Especially among the women I could sense the desire for peace, although I realized that the old men were hardly firebrands.
I bowed deeply to the king, then nodded in turn to Hector and Aleksandros. I caught Helen’s eye as I did so, and she seemed to smile slightly at me.
“O Great King,” I began, “I bring you greeting from High King Agamemnon, leader of the Achaian host.”
Priam nodded and waggled the fingers of one hand, as if urging me to get through the preliminaries and down to business.
I did. I told them not of Odysseus’s offer to leave with Helen and nothing else, but of my elaboration: Helen, her fortune, and an indemnity for Agamemnon to distribute to his army.
I could feel the air in the chamber change. The eager expectation died. A somber reaction of gloom settled on them all.
“But this is nothing more than Agamemnon has offered in the past,” wheezed Priam.
“And which we have steadfastly refused,” Hector added.
Aleksandros laughed. “If we refused such insulting terms when the Achaians were pounding at our gates, why should we even consider them now, when we have the barbarians penned up at the beach? In a day or two we’ll be burning their ships and slaughtering them like the cattle they are.”
“I am a newcomer to this war,” I said. “I know nothing of your grievances and rights. I have been instructed to offer the terms for peace, which I have done. It is for you to consider them and make an answer.”
“I will never surrender my wife,” Aleksandros snapped. “Never!”
Helen smiled at him and he reached up to take her hand in his.
“A newcomer, you say?” Priam asked, his curiosity pricked enough to light his eyes. “Yet you claim to be of the House of Ithaca. When you first ducked your head past the lintel of our doorway I thought you might be the one they call Great Ajax.”
I replied, “Odysseus has taken me into his household, my lord king. I arrived on these shores only a few days ago…”
“And single-handedly stopped me from storming the Achaian camp,” Hector said, somewhat ruefully. “Too bad that Odysseus has adopted you. I wouldn’t mind having such a fearless man at my side.”
Surprised by his offer, and wondering what it might imply, I answered merely, “I fear that would be impossible, my lord.”
“Yes,” Hector agreed. “Too bad, though.”
Priam stirred on his throne, coughed painfully, then said, “We thank you for the message you bring, Orion of the House of Ithaca. Now we must consider before making answer.”
He gestured a feeble dismissal. I bowed again and went back to the anteroom. The guards closed the heavy door behind me.
I was alone in the small chamber; the courtier who had guided me earlier had disappeared. I went to the window and looked out at the lovely garden, so peaceful, so bright with flowers and humming bees intent on their morning’s work. No hint of war there: merely the endless cycle of birth, growth, death, and rebirth.
I thought about the words the Golden One had spoken to me. How many times had I died and been reborn? To what purpose? He wanted Troy to win this war, or at least survive the Achaian siege. Therefore my desire was the same as Agamemnon’s: to crush Troy, to burn it to the ground, to slaughter its people and destroy it forever.
Destroy that garden? Burn this palace? Slaughter Hector and aged Priam and all the rest?
I clenched my fists and squeezed my eyes tight. Yes! I told myself. Just as the Golden One would slaughter Odysseus and old Poletes. Just as he burned my love to death.
“Orion of Ithaca.”
I wheeled from the window. A single soldier stood at the doorway, bareheaded, wearing a well-oiled leather harness rather than armor, a short sword at his hip.
“Follow me, please.”
I followed him down a long hallway and up a flight of stairs, then through several rooms that were empty of people, although richly furnished and decorated with gorgeous tapestries. They will burn nicely, I found myself thinking. Up another flight we went, and finally he ushered me into a comfortable sitting room, with undraped windows and an open doorway that looked out on a terrace and the distant sea. Lovely murals decorated the walls, scenes of peaceful men and women in a pastel world of flowers and gentle beasts.
The soldier closed the door and left me alone. But not for long. Through the door on the opposite side of the room, a scant few moments later, stepped the beautiful Helen.
Chapter 10
SHE was breathtaking, there is no denying it. She wore a flounced skirt of shimmering rainbow colors with golden tassels that tinkled as she walked toward me. Her corselet was now as blue as the Aegean sky, her white blouse so gauzy that I could see the dark circles of the areolae around her nipples. She wore a triple gold necklace and more gold at both wrists and earlobes. Jeweled rings glittered on her fingers.
She was tiny, almost delicate, despite her hour-glass figure. Her skin was like cream, unblemished and much lighter than the women I had seen in the Achaian camp. Her eyes were as deeply blue as the Aegean, her lips lush and full, her hair the color of golden honey, with ringlets falling well past her lovely shoulders. One stubborn curl hung down over her forehead. She wore a scent of flowers: light, clean, yet beguiling.
Helen smiled at me and gestured toward a chair. She took a cushioned couch, her back to the open windows. I sat and waited for her to speak. In truth, just looking at her against the background of the blue sky and bluer sea was a feast that seemed too good for mere words.
“You say you are a stranger to this land.” Her voice was low, melodious. I could understand how Aleksandros, or any other man, would dare anything to have her. And keep her.
I nodded and found that I had to swallow once before I could speak. “My lady, I arrived on a boat only a few days ago. Before then, all I knew of Troy was… stories told by wayfarers.”
“You are a sailor, then?”
“Not really,” I said. “I am a… traveler, a wanderer.”
She looked at me with a hint of suspicion in those clear blue eyes. “Not a warrior?”
“I have been a warrior, from time to time, but that is not my profession.”
“Yet it may be your destiny.”
I had no answer for that.
Helen said, “You serve the goddess Athene.” It was not a question. She had excellent intelligence sources, apparently.
Nodding, I replied, “That is true.”
She bit her lower lip. “Athene despises me. She is the enemy of Troy.”
“Yet her statue is honored…”
“You cannot fail to honor so powerful a goddess, Orion. No matter how Athene hates me, the people of this city must continue to placate her as best they can. Certain disaster will overtake them if they do not.”
“Apollo protects the city,” I said.
She nodded. “Yet I fear Athene.” Helen looked beyond me, looking into the past, perhaps. Or trying to see the future.
“My lady, is there some service you wish me to do for you?”
Her gaze focused on me once again. A faint smile dimpled her cheeks. “You wonder why I summoned you?”
“Yes.”
The smile turned impish. “Don’t you think that I might want a closer look at such a handsome stranger? A man so tall, with such broad shoulders? Who stood alone against Hector and his chariot team and turned them away?”
I bowed my head slightly. “May I ask you a question, my lady?”
“You may — although I don’t promise to answer.”