The Oracles of Troy (The Adventures of Odysseus)

A stooped figure cloaked in black with the hood pulled over his face rose from the outer ring of chairs and pushed his way into the centre circle. Agamemnon offered him the staff, and as he took it the man flicked back his hood to reveal his bald head and thin, pale face. His dark eyes stared about at the Greeks and there was madness in them.

‘He has to die,’ Calchas finished his statement. ‘If he lives he will grow up to rebuild Troy and avenge the death of his father.’

‘But who will kill the child, Calchas?’ Diomedes called out. ‘Will you?’

Calchas scowled at the Argive king.

‘Thus speaks the man whose father failed to defeat Thebes, leaving his son to finish the task. Do you want your children to endure another war like this one, Diomedes, just because you don’t have the ruthless courage to expunge your enemies? Scorn my words if you wish, but unless you want a new Troy to rise from the ashes then Astyanax must die!’

Calchas thrust the staff back into Agamemnon’s hand and returned to his seat, letting his doom-filled words settle on the Council.

‘I say kill the boy,’ Little Ajax grunted.

His words were met by a smattering of nods and murmurs of agreement.

‘Too many Greeks have died because of Troy, my own son among them,’ said Nestor. ‘Astyanax must die. We have no choice.’

Neoptolemus stood up and pointed with a snarl at the child in Agamemnon’s arms.

‘Kill him and be done with it!’

Others stood now, angrily voicing their support in an attempt to drown out the wailing of the Trojan women. Eperitus saw the smile on Agamemnon’s face, and before he knew what he was doing he stood up.

‘No. He’s just a child. Give him to me and I’ll bring him up as my own son.’

Silence fell on the assembly and every eye turned on Eperitus. In an instant, Odysseus was standing beside him with his hand on his arm.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he hissed.

‘Trying to save the boy,’ Eperitus replied, his voice low but filled with determination. ‘And if you allow this murder to go ahead, Odysseus, you’re just as bad as they are.’

Odysseus looked into his eyes and bit on his lip, unable to reply. Then Agamemnon put the child back down in the dry grass and stared at Eperitus with an icy gaze.

‘You heard the Council,’ he said. ‘The boy has to die. There’s no debate on the matter, Eperitus; it’s already decided.’

‘I’ll not stand by and watch you murder this child in cold blood, just like you did Iphigenia!’

He saw the shocked reaction on the faces of the Council, who seemed to collectively sit up and suck in breath. But his only thought now was for Astyanax: if he could at least fight for the boy, he might make up in some small way for his failure to save his own daughter. He fixed his stare on the Mycenaean king, whose usually aloof façade had given way to a look of intense hatred.

‘Then your desire is granted,’ Agamemnon seethed. ‘You will not stand by and watch him killed. You will be the one to kill him!’

‘Never,’ Eperitus snapped.

‘I order you to do it!’

Eperitus spat on the ground and drew his sword. Several of the kings reached for the hilts of their own weapons, while the guards behind Nestor and Menelaus raised their spears and aimed them nervously at the Ithacan. Then, seizing the long tail of hair behind his neck, Eperitus sawed through it and tossed it at Agamemnon’s feet.

‘I don’t answer to you any more, Agamemnon. None of us do. The oath we took has been fulfilled and you’re no longer the King of Men. You’re just the king of Mycenae now, and I’m not a Mycenaean!’

‘Eperitus is right, he doesn’t have to follow your orders any more,’ Diomedes said. Then, slipping a dagger from his belt, he sawed off the long mane of hair that had not been cut since the start of the war and flung it onto the dirt. ‘And neither do I.’

Agamemnon was speechless with rage and his fury only seemed to increase as one by one the other kings, princes and captains who formed the Council began cutting away the tails from the back of their own heads and throwing them into the circle. When, at last, Menelaus and Nestor did the same, he finally realised that his hegemony over the Greeks had ended.

‘This doesn’t change the boy’s fate,’ he said. ‘You, the Council, decided that he should die, not me alone. And if none of you has the courage to do it, then I will throw him from the walls myself.’

Eperitus stepped forward to protest again, but Odysseus pulled him back to his seat.

‘Agamemnon’s right. The decision was taken by the whole Council; you can’t defend the boy against all the kings of Greece.’

‘Give Astyanax to me,’ Neoptolemus announced before Eperitus could react. ‘If he’s going to grow up to avenge his father, then as Achilles’s son I’m the one who stands to lose the most if he lives. Besides, Andromache is my woman now; I don’t want her pining for a bastard child when she’ll be bearing sons for me.’