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‘We’ll see,’ she replied. ‘But you interest me, at least, and I think Helen might find some of your qualities more than interesting.’ Her eyes shot a glance at one of the windows that overlooked the courtyard, but an instant later she looked back at Odysseus as if her gaze had never left him. ‘I wouldn’t call you handsome, but what’s one more fine figure amongst a host of fine figures? Now, I’ll arrange for you and your men to receive baths and new clothes, as well as something to eat. Then you’ll be taken to your rooms.’

‘You still have rooms left?’ Eperitus asked.

‘You’re not in Ithaca now.’ She smiled at him. ‘This is Sparta, and you’re in the palace of its king. Tyndareus could house an army of suitors before he worried about having enough rooms, as you will see.’

And so, like a pack of obedient hounds, they followed the princess across the busy courtyard. The servants and soldiers barely noticed them as they entered the stream of activity, a mere ripple in the already choppy waters of palace life. But, despite their indifference, Eperitus felt that he and his comrades had crossed the threshold of a world much wider and deeper than anything any of them had experienced before, and from which none of them would emerge the same again.

Chapter Sixteen

THE GREAT HALL

Odysseus did not tell the others that he was fated to fail in his mission. Athena’s words were not for their ears, he told Eperitus, and it would only demoralize them to know that Menelaus had already been chosen as Helen’s husband. What would they care for alliances with other princes and kings, when they believed that Ithaca’s only salvation lay in his marrying Tynda-reus’s daughter?

They were walking the clean, well-built corridors of the uppermost level of the palace, where the Ithacans had been assigned two rooms between them and a thick straw mattress for each man. People were everywhere, even on the upper floors – mostly household slaves or soldiers from various Greek states. The former went about their duties with vigour and concentration, owing to the large number of duties that had been imposed on them with the coming of the suitors. The latter idled about singly or in pairs, admiring the palace, stopping the overworked servants with requests for food or drink, or trying to find female slaves with time on their hands and a mind for some private relaxation. Nobody carried weapons. It was a rule of the king that all arms were to be handed in at the armoury and stored there whilst their owners remained in the palace. The chief armourer, a man of many words, told them of the near-fatal arguments this had caused, so attached were the many warriors to their weapons. But compared with the bloodshed that would have occurred in the palace had Tyndareus not ordered this precaution, the price was a small one.

Eperitus sat with Odysseus on the wall of one of the third-floor balconies and looked down at the city of Sparta. They were joined by a warrior who introduced himself as Peisandros, son of Maimalos of Trachis. He was a spearman in the army of the Myrmidons, a name which he explained meant ants and was given to them for their hard-working nature. His captain was Patroclus, who had come to Sparta as the representative of Achilles.

‘Why doesn’t Achilles come himself?’ Eperitus asked.

Peisandros laughed heartily at his question. He was a barrel-chested man with a huge beard and a roaring guffaw that shook the air.

‘Why doesn’t he come? Because he’s still a child, that’s why.’

‘A child!’ Odysseus exclaimed. ‘But I’ve heard he has the respect of kings and fame that extends throughout Greece. How can a child exceed his elders in glory?’

‘He has a great lineage,’ Peisandros explained. ‘His father is Pelops, whom these lands are named after, and his mother is Thetis, a sea-nymph. It’s said she took him as an infant to the river Styx that flows from Hades itself, and dipped him in its waters to make him immortal. No arrow’s point or sword’s blade can harm him, no spear pierce him or axe slice his flesh. His tutors were Phoenix, the wise king of the Dolopes, and Chiron the centaur, so he has education beyond his years. They also taught him to fight and, my friends, if you could see him wield a spear and shield, child though he is, you would never again scoff at his age.’

‘But how can a child expect to marry Helen? Why would the most beautiful woman in Greece choose him over grown men?’ Eperitus asked.

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