The Oracles of Troy (The Adventures of Odysseus)

Menelaus spat the last words out with vengeful malice, as if Helen was already standing captive before him. Eperitus briefly debated the wisdom of telling him that his wife had helped them steal the Palladium; or that, according to Odysseus’s account, she had helped him enter Pergamos and told him where to find the sacred statue, even going so far as sending her maids to drug the temple guards. But he also knew it was not his place to reveal these things; it was Odysseus’s. He stared at the king of Ithaca, silently urging him to speak up in Helen’s defence, but Odysseus said nothing.

The other conversations had stopped dead at the bitterness in Menelaus’s words, prompting Agamemnon to lean forward with his hands flat on the table.

‘You’ll embrace her, of course, Brother,’ he said in a commanding tone. ‘The kings of Greece haven’t fought for ten years so that you can kill the woman they all swore to protect.’

Menelaus looked round at the circle of faces. ‘Of course not,’ he conceded, though without conviction.

‘So,’ Agamemnon continued, ‘let us congratulate Odysseus and Diomedes for their guile and courage in entering Troy and stealing the Palladium. The full story can wait until we’re all sat around a blazing fire with meat in our bellies and wine in our veins, and doubtless Odysseus will be the man to tell it. But now, with the third of the oracles given to us by Helenus fulfilled, we must decide on our next move. That, my noble lords, is why I’ve called you here.’

‘I’d have thought our next move was obvious.’

The speaker’s tone was matter-of-fact, but the hint of criticism caused every eye to turn to the corner of the table where the words had come from. Neoptolemus, who as commander of the Myrmidons had taken his father’s place on the Council, stood with his hands behind his back staring at the King of Men. Peisandros was at his shoulder, his arms crossed over his broad chest and his wild beard thrust out defiantly. Agamemnon frowned a little, but quickly regained his usual coolness.

‘Younger minds don’t suffer the hindrance of greater experience,’ he replied. ‘What would the son of Achilles have us do?’

‘Attack.’

Nestor’s white beard opened with a smile. ‘Of course we’ll attack.’

‘Attack now,’ Neoptolemus said, punching his hand. ‘You’ve become too used to sitting in your precious camp and letting the years roll by. And where’s it got you? I say muster your armies before the walls and march on Troy. You’ve fulfilled all the oracles the gods laid down, so what are you waiting for? Attack now and Troy will fall.’

There were nods of agreement among the commanders and a notable growl of approval from Peisandros, but there were also a few shaken heads. The remainder of the assembly kept their opinions to themselves and turned their gaze to Agamemnon, who was equally silent as he looked at Neoptolemus.

‘I say the son of Achilles is right,’ said Menelaus beside him. ‘We’ve become too comfortable in our tents and huts – or maybe we’ve just grown afraid of the Trojans! Let’s turn our minds back to the palaces we left behind, to our wives and children. I’m sick of Ilium. Now we have the blessing of the gods, what’s stopping us from marching up to the Scaean Gate and finally taking what we came here for?’

The passion in his voice roused others and the murmurs of agreements grew louder. Some contested the rashness of an immediate attack, causing the tent to fill rapidly with the sound of arguing voices, until eventually Agamemnon was forced to raise his arms for silence.

‘And what do the men whose bravery gained us the Palladium say?’

Diomedes was quick to answer. ‘I’ve always been the first to join an attack and my Argives are in the forefront of every battle, but I can’t agree with Neoptolemus and Menelaus. I’ve seen the walls of Troy from outside and inside and believe me, my friends, when I tell you they won’t blow away with a puff of youthful ardour. By taking the Palladium we have undermined Trojan self-confidence, but we haven’t removed the hinges from their gates or knocked even one stone from their battlements. Their defences are as strong now as they ever were. No, if we’re to take Troy we need to think about it, use the same intelligence that Odysseus showed when he thought up his plan to enter the city.’

Eperitus was among a handful who voiced their agreement, though he noticed Odysseus was silent. Then Neoptolemus thumped his fist down on the table and glared round at the Council in anger.

‘What are you, warriors or women? If you haven’t the stomach to fight then we Myrmidons will scale the walls alone and claim all the glory for ourselves!’

Opposing choruses for and against the plan broke out again, and this time it was Nestor who silenced them.

‘I want to hear what Odysseus thinks,’ the old man said. ‘Are you with Diomedes or Neoptolemus?’