The Oracles of Troy (The Adventures of Odysseus)

A little way to the north was the Simöeis. She would be able to wash away the filth there, but even if she could stomach escaping through the latrine and make it undetected to the river, she would have wet clothes for the whole of the long, circuitous journey to the Greek camp. Why had she not thought of that before? Her ridiculous plan had been poorly thought out and now seemed utterly impossible. But she knew she had to go through with it, however disgusting and gruelling it would be. There was no other way to end the war and prevent further misery and suffering being inflicted on the people of Troy, the people for whom Paris had sacrificed his life. She wound the cloak more tightly about her body and stepped up to the gaping, malodorous hole in the floor.

‘What are you doing up here?’ demanded a stern voice.

Helen spun round to see the tall figure of a man at the top of the stairs. The starlight glittered on his polished armour and there was a naked sword in his hand. For a moment she was filled with fear. Then she recognised Apheidas’s handsome, battle-hardened face and her fear turned to anger.

‘You may be a commander in the army, Apheidas,’ she snapped, ‘but I am a member of the royal family. You will address me accordingly.’

‘Very well, my lady,’ he replied, sheathing his blade and stepping towards her. ‘You’ve caused quite a fuss leaving your quarters at night without an escort. There are search parties all over the citadel looking for you.’

‘I’ve walked these walls every night since I arrived in Troy. Is my imprisonment now so strict that I’m no longer allowed to look up at the stars?’

‘A woman of your beauty can still be attacked, even in Pergamos,’ he warned. ‘And you had Paris to protect you before.’

Helen turned away, stung by the reminder of her husband’s death, and let her gaze rest on the dark Aegean beyond the opening to the bay. Its surface shifted gently, belying the depth and power of what stirred beneath. Far on the other side lay the land of her birth; the land where three of her children had grown up without her; the land to which her instincts told her she was doomed to return.

‘And what will you do with me now you’ve found me?’ she asked, turning to face Apheidas. ‘After all, you’re not here purely out of concern for my safety.’

‘You’re required in the great hall,’ he answered, taking her gently but firmly by the upper arm. ‘Priam is going to announce your fate, but first he wants you to have the chance to speak.’

‘Very gracious,’ she laughed, ironically. ‘If being allowed to voice an opinion about the method of one’s own detention can be called gracious. But before you drag me away, Apheidas, I want to ask you something.’

‘What is it?’

‘Must you always do what Priam tells you to do? I’ve heard the rumours, about how your mother was raped and murdered by a member of the royal family, and how your father killed her attacker out of vengeance. They say you were forced to flee to Greece, and that Priam took all your family’s wealth and land for himself. Doesn’t that anger you?’

A dark look flickered over Apheidas’s features before being forced away.

‘You forget Priam also allowed me to return to Troy,’ he answered.

‘Out of pity and guilt! He didn’t feel so bad, though, that he was moved to restore your inheritance to you, did he. Everything you have now you have won by your own strength, fighting in Priam’s wars. You owe him nothing. And if you and I have never been good friends, can you say I’ve ever wronged you?’

‘Get to the point, Helen.’

‘Can’t you have some pity and pretend you never saw me? There’s nothing left for me in Troy now and my misery will only be a little less with Menelaus, but if you help me over the walls I can at least return to my former husband and end the war.’ Helen took a step towards him and raised her face to look into his eyes, her lips tantalisingly close to his. ‘I’ll give you whatever you want in return.’

‘If you had that much power perhaps you’d be worth listening to.’

She seized his wrist and raised his large hand to her breast. Raising herself on tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his. He kissed her back, lightly, and passed his thumb over her nipple where it pushed against the thin material of her chiton.

‘I’m yours if you let me go,’ she whispered.

Apheidas looked down at her with his hard, merciless eyes and shook his head.

‘Those aren’t my orders,’ he said. ‘And you’ve been drinking. Come on.’

He gripped her arm and pulled her forcibly toward the steps.

Chapter Eleven

A WIDOW’S FATE