The Oracles of Troy (The Adventures of Odysseus)

Theano’s eyes and mouth closed and the light was extinguished as swiftly as it had come, leaving them with only the dull glow of the struggling torches. A moment later, the priestess’s legs buckled and she slumped unconscious to the floor. Diomedes and Eperitus retrieved the torches they had dropped and turned to face Odysseus.

‘Was that –?’ Diomedes began.

‘Athena,’ Eperitus finished. He turned to Odysseus. ‘What are you going to do?’

The king raised his head wearily and looked at them with a tortured expression and eyes that were wracked with pain. He picked up his sword, which was now cold to the touch, and stood. Diomedes’s weapon was nearby and he kicked this over to the king of Argos.

‘I can’t bear the thought of this war going on any longer, so I’ve made my decision. We take the Palladium. And now we should go. We have a long journey back to the camp and the Trojans will be close on our trail as soon as they see their talisman is missing.’

‘First we must tie up Theano,’ Eperitus said. ‘If we don’t, she’ll raise the alarm the moment she wakes.’

With compunction – remembering the hospitality the priestess and her husband had shown them on their first visit to Troy – Odysseus and Eperitus tied her hands behind her back and gagged her, before hiding her still unconscious body behind the immense statue of Athena. As they laid her down, Eperitus caught Odysseus’s eye. He wanted to ask his friend whether they had done the right thing, to steal the Palladium in spite of Athena’s direct command that it should remain in the temple, but Odysseus saw the question coming and looked away, indicating it was not a matter he wished to discuss. He was not quick enough to disguise the doubt and regret written in his features, though, an expression Eperitus was not used to seeing on the king’s face.

Silently, they crossed the floor of the temple to where Diomedes was standing guard at the door. The Palladium was tucked under his arm and his sword was held tightly in his other hand.

‘Hurry up,’ he hissed anxiously. ‘Do you want to be caught?’

The guards were still fast asleep on the portico and they were able to make their way back to the city walls without hindrance. Then, as they climbed the steps and approached the stinking hole in the battlements through which they were to escape, they were met by a stern challenge.

‘What’s your business here at this time of night? Who are you?’

A figure came striding along the ramparts towards them, the faint starlight glinting off his scaled armour and the tip of his levelled spear. Realising that all the guard had to do was call out, Eperitus raised the point of his own weapon and charged. The Trojan sprang forward to meet him, punching the boss of his shield into Eperitus’s face and knocking him back against the parapet. Seeing Odysseus and Diomedes draw their swords, he ran on and thrust his spear into the Ithacan’s flank. Odysseus was torn sideways and fell to the flagstones. But before the guard could think to shout for help, Diomedes’s sword had sliced through his neck and sent his head over the battlements and into the darkness below.

Eperitus had regained his feet before the Trojan’s torso crumpled to the floor, and in a single bound was at Odysseus’s side. The king lay on his back, his eyes squeezed shut with pain. A dark, wet patch was spreading through the wool of his tunic, just below his ribs.

‘Odysseus? Odysseus!’

He opened his eyes.

‘It’s nothing. A flesh wound to the side, that’s all.’

Diomedes joined them and delicately peeled back the torn material to reveal a deep cut.

‘It’ll bleed a lot, but nothing worse than that. The gods are with you tonight, my friend.’

‘On the contrary,’ Odysseus replied, sitting up. ‘This is Athena’s way of telling me I’m on my own now. She’s not going to protect me any more.’

‘More work for me then,’ Eperitus commented, helping him to his feet. ‘Now, if you can still walk we need to get going.’

‘I can walk,’ Odysseus grunted, tearing a strip from the Trojan’s cloak and winding it about his wound.

They tossed the corpse over the battlements, and, after dropping through the latrine hole onto the stinking shelf of rock below, carried it the short distance to the Simöeis. Here they washed as much of the filth as they could from their bodies, then with the skies growing less dark in the east – revealing the outline of the mountains – they set off towards the Greek camp with the Palladium strapped to Diomedes’s broad back.

Chapter Thirty-two

THE INSANITY OF KINGS