The Mykene warriors at the foot of the stairs were streaming back through the megaron to face the fresh troops arriving there. Argurios could not see them, but he could hear the sounds of battle.
Then he saw Kolanos, by the far wall, a bow in his hand.
In that instant a Mykene soldier leapt at Helikaon, knocking him from his feet.
Half stunned, Helikaon tried to roll. The Mykene standing over him raised his spear for a death lunge. Argurios spun and blocked the blow with his shield.
Something sharp and hot tore into his side, ripping through his ribs and driving up into his chest. He staggered, righted himself, and thrust his spear into the warrior threatening Helikaon. As the man fell the others below him turned away from the stairs.
Argurios wanted to follow them but his legs were suddenly weak and he sank to the stairs. The Shield of Ilos fell from his arm, and he gazed down at the arrow buried deep in his side. It had struck exactly the point on his cuirass where the bronze discs were missing.
Helikaon and Polydorus carried Argurios to the gallery, laying him gently down.
Fire was running through him now, and he gritted his teeth against the insistent agony. Helikaon pulled Argurios’ helmet clear and knelt alongside him. Then Polydorus placed his hand over the shaft, ready to pull it clear.
‘No!’ said Argurios. ‘This arrow and I are brothers now. It has killed me. It is also keeping me alive for a little while. Draw it out and my life blood will flow with it.’
‘No!’ insisted Polydorus. ‘I will fetch the physician. He will find a way to cut it clear. You will live, Argurios. You must live.’ He rushed away.
Argurios sighed, then looked at Helikaon. ‘The boy doesn’t know wounds,’ he said. ‘We do, though, Golden One.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Helikaon, lifting clear his own helmet. ‘I am sorry, Argurios.’
Priam the king came then, and knelt on Argurios’ left. For a moment he said nothing, then he reached out and gripped Argurios’ hand. ‘I said you could ask anything of me,’ he said.
‘Nothing left to ask for, Priam King.’ He smiled, grimly. ‘If I had the power I would go down there and rescue my friends, and carry them back to Mykene. I recognized many.’
‘Is there anything I can do for you? Or your family?’
‘I have no family. I need nothing.’
Priam sighed, then stood. ‘I thank you, Mykene. The Shield of Ilos will return to its place of glory on the walls of my palace. It will be known from now on as the Shield of Argurios. No-one will ever forget what you did here.’
With that the king, flanked by Royal Eagles, strode down to the megaron.
Polydorus returned with the physician Zeotos, who only confirmed what Argurios already knew. The arrow was too deep. Polydorus knelt beside the dying warrior, and there were tears in his eyes.
‘I cannot tell you how proud I am to have stood with you in battle, Argurios,’
he said.
‘Spare some pride for yourself, boy. You did well. Now go and join your comrades, and let me sit quietly for a while.’
Polydorus leaned forward and kissed Argurios on the brow. Then he gathered his sword and followed his king down the stairs.
Andromache came then. ‘Am I to get no peace?’ asked Argurios. Her face was tight and tense, and he could see the marks of tears upon her cheeks.
‘Laodike needs you,’ she said.
‘I don’t want her to see me like this.’
‘No, you must come. She… she is dying too, Argurios.’
‘No!’ Argurios groaned. ‘It cannot be!’
‘Her wound was deeper than we thought. You must come to her.’
Argurios looked up at Helikaon. ‘Help me rise,’ he said. Helikaon took his arm and drew him upright. Argurios groaned again as the arrow point shifted, firing fresh agony through him. He staggered back against the wall, but Helikaon held him. Slowly they made their way to the queen’s apartments. The wounded were everywhere, and Argurios saw Laodike lying on her couch, her eyes closed.
Steadying himself, he told Helikaon to let him go, then walked to the couch and knelt beside it. Reaching out, he took her hand. Laodike’s eyes opened. Her face was pale, her eyes heavy-lidded. Argurios felt in that moment he had never seen such beauty. Laodike smiled, her face instantly radiant with happiness. ‘Oh, Argurios,’ she said. ‘I was dreaming of you.’
‘Was it a good dream?’ he asked her.
‘Yes. All my dreams of you are wonderful.’
‘And what did you dream?’
‘It was our house. I have been to see it. You will… love it. It has a deep garden and a fountain. There are flowering trees against the western wall. We can sit there in the evenings, when the sun sets.’
‘I will look forward to that, my love.’
‘Did you see father?’
‘Yes. Everything is well, Laodike.’
‘We will not be parted then?’
Argurios opened the small pouch at his sword belt and lifted out the crumpled swan feather.
‘You kept it!’ she whispered.
‘Yes. I kept it. We will never be parted. Not even in death.’
Placing the feather in her hand, he closed his own fingers around hers. With the last of his strength he eased himself down to the floor, laying his head upon her breast.
‘I am so happy, Argurios,’ she said. ‘I think I’ll sleep a little now.’ ‘We’ll both sleep. And when we awake you can show me the garden.’
ii
Kalliades ran back into the megaron, his mind racing. With enemy troops coming in behind them, and an undefeated force still holding the upper levels, the insurrection was now doomed. Casting his veteran’s eye around the palace he knew it could not be defended for long. The megaron was almost a hundred paces long, and some fifty wide. Too large to resist a superior force – as the Trojans had discovered only a few hours before. Now the roles were about to be reversed – save that the Mykene would not be able to retreat to the upper levels. They would be assailed on two fronts, through the great doors, and from the gallery above. He scanned the columned walls. Their only hope – albeit a transient one – would be to form a shield wall.
All around him lay Mykene casualties, having their wounds stitched or plugged with cloth. He called out to the men closest by, ‘Get the wounded together! More Trojans are coming!’
Instantly warriors began helping their comrades to their feet, or carrying them back to the shelter of the wall. Then they began to gather shields and helmets.
Kalliades ran the length of the megaron to the rear of the hall, where the battle of the stairs was still raging. Argurios was still fighting there, but Kalliades did not look up at him. Instead he sought out Kolanos. He saw the general standing in the shelter of a great column, his bow bent. An arrow flashed towards the stairs. Kalliades flicked his glance to the left, seeing the shaft punch home in Argurios’ side.
‘I have you, you bastard!’ said Kolanos gleefully.
Kalliades came alongside him. ‘Trojan reinforcements are upon us,’ he said. ‘The city gates are open and the Thrakians have fled.’
He saw fear in Kolanos’ eyes. ‘Where is Prince Agathon?’
Kalliades shrugged. ‘Gone. I don’t know where. We need to make a stand. I have started a shield wall.’
‘A stand? I’ll not die here!’ Kolanos threw away the bow and headed down the megaron, racing towards the open doors. Kalliades followed him, awaiting orders.
