The Oracles of Troy (The Adventures of Odysseus)

Priam stared at the dishevelled figure. His face was half hidden behind the filthy rag that had been tied about his mouth, but the blood and bruises on his dirt-stained cheeks and forehead were clear to see. The man fixed his eyes firmly on the grass at Priam’s feet, either too fearful or too stubborn to look at the old king.

‘Who is he?’

‘He refused to say, my lord.’

A flicker of impatience crossed Priam’s face. ‘Then did you and your men give him this beating?’

‘No. He’s exactly as when we found him, hiding in the ruins of one of the huts. Though we had to bind him so he wouldn’t try to escape.’

Priam flicked his hand at the gag, which Aeneas hastily removed. As the strip of cloth fell to the ground, Astynome almost cried out in shock. The prisoner was the young Ithacan, Omeros.

‘What’s your name, lad?’ Priam asked, addressing him in Greek.

Omeros did not respond.

‘Answer the king!’ Apheidas snapped, impatiently.

Omeros lifted his gaze to Priam’s knees and opened his cracked and blooded lips.

‘Omeros,’ he rasped. ‘An Ithacan.’

‘One of Odysseus’s men,’ Apheidas said, leaning in towards Priam.

Priam ignored the obvious comment and told Idaeus to give the prisoner water. The herald did as he was commanded and Omeros drank the cooling liquid greedily.

‘Where is the Greek fleet?’ Priam demanded.

Again Omeros was reluctant to answer, provoking Apheidas to strike him across the face with the back of his hand. The blow reopened one of his cuts and left a fresh smear of bright red on his dirt-stained cheek.

‘They’ve had enough. Gone home.’

‘Just like that? After ten years of war?’ Apheidas sneered. ‘I’m sure that’s what you’d like us to believe.’

Omeros merely shrugged and continued to stare at the ground.

‘Why would they leave after all this time?’ Priam asked. ‘They stole the Palladium, the very thing that protected Troy for all these years – so why go now?’

Omeros shot an uncertain glance at Apheidas, then looked at Priam.

‘Stealing the Palladium was the very thing that condemned them. They thought it’d bring them victory, but all it did was earn them Athena’s wrath. They realised that when they tried to storm the walls and were repulsed again, just like in every previous attack over the past ten years. And if that wasn’t evidence enough, the Palladium burst into flames three times – you don’t have to be a seer to know that’s a bad omen!’

‘So where’s the Palladium now?’

Omeros looked up at the horse.

‘Up there. Inside the horse’s head. Once they’d accepted they could no longer win the war, they built this thing to appease Athena and seek her blessing for the voyage home. No-one dared take the Palladium back to Greece with them, and they didn’t want you to find it; so they hid it.’

Apheidas’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

 ‘Why would you tell us that? In fact, why would Odysseus sail home to Ithaca leaving one of his men to be taken prisoner?’

‘Because I’m no longer one of his men!’ Omeros answered, angrily. He pulled at the rope that bound his hands behind his back, but to no avail. ‘Damn it, if you’re going to question me all day, at least take these bonds from my wrists.’

Priam nodded at Aeneas, who drew his dagger and slit the flax cord. Omeros shook his hands then rubbed them together, trying to encourage the blood to return to his veins. After a moment, he looked up at his Trojan interrogators and there was an embittered look in his eye.

‘A while ago, I found out Odysseus had planted gold in Palamedes’s tent, to implicate him as a traitor. They killed Palamedes for it, and ever since Odysseus has been afraid I might give away his dirty secret. So when the winds refused to blow and Calchas declared the fleet couldn’t sail until the gods had been appeased with human blood, Odysseus saw his opportunity. He asked Calchas who had to die, and the old drunkard pointed at me – doubtless bribed beforehand by Odysseus. The Greeks dragged the horse at night to the top of the ridge where you found it this morning, then prepared to sacrifice me at dawn. They had to subdue me first – that’s how I got these,’ he indicated the cuts and bruises on his face, ‘but before the sacrifice could begin, a gale sprang up and everyone ran for the ships. I escaped in the chaos as they torched the tents and huts and pushed the galleys out into the sea. Then I watched them sail away by the first light of dawn, following the coastline southward with the wind behind them.’

‘What do you say now, Daughter?’ Priam asked, turning to the sombre figure of Cassandra.

‘He’s a liar!’ she hissed. ‘The Palladium isn’t inside the horse. Only death is in there – a plague of bronze that will wipe out the race of Troy. Burn it while you still can.’

Voices in the crowd cried out in protest, calling for Cassandra to be silent. The king returned his gaze to Omeros.