From the back of the crowd six of the Penelope’s crew all cried out in unison: ‘I smell blood!’ A flicker of enjoyable panic swept through the throng. The timing had been perfect.
‘Twas a massive creature, with a single eye in the centre of its head. Its teeth were long and sharp. It ran from the trees and caught one of my men by the waist, hauling him high. Then those terrible teeth ripped him apart.’
At that moment Helikaon saw several of Kolanos’ crew working their way through the throng, moving ever closer to him. His eyes scanned the crowd, and he picked out Zidantas, Oniacus and several of the Xanthos’ men, also manoeuvring their way towards him, while keeping wary eyes on the Mykene.
Odysseus was in full voice now, recounting the adventure with the Cyclops. Sweat gleamed on his face, and dripped from his beard. The audience was entranced, the performance – as always – boisterous, energetic and captivating.
Helikaon looked around. None of the Fat King’s soldiers were close by. The Mykene were apparently unarmed, but one of them was wearing a jerkin of leather, which could conceal a knife. The chances were the Mykene would do nothing. The Fat King was merciless with any who broke his laws. Much of his wealth came from the ships that beached upon his bays, and the main reason they chose to stay was the reciprocal guarantee of safety for their crews and cargoes.
Even so it made sense to be cautious. Helikaon eased his way back into the audience, then cut to the left, seeking to circle the crowd and link with Zidantas.
Then he saw the woman.
She was standing just back from the gathering, dressed in a long cloak of green and an embroidered gown. It was difficult by fire and moonlight to see the colour of her hair, but it was long, thickly curled, and drawn back from her face. And such a face! She looked like a goddess. Not pretty, but awesomely beautiful. Helikaon’s mouth was dry. He could not stop looking at her. She saw him, and he felt the power of her eyes. The look was cool, and yet strangely challenging. He swallowed hard, and stepped towards her. In that moment her expression changed, her eyes flickering beyond him. Helikaon spun. The man with the leather jerkin was behind him, a knife in his hand. The assassin darted forward. Swaying aside from the thrusting blade, Helikaon grabbed the attacker’s wrist, pulling him away from the crowd, then stepped in and smashed a head butt to the man’s nose. Stunned, blood pouring from his nostrils, the assassin fell back. Helikaon followed in, butting him again. The assassin’s knees gave way and he dropped to the sand, the knife slipping from his fingers. Helikaon swept it up, plunging the sharp blade into the man’s throat, then ripping it clear. Blood spurted through the air.
With Odysseus’ tale still captivating the audience, no-one in the crowd had seen the brief exchange. The body lay, blood gushing at first, then pumping more slowly as the man died. Rising to his feet Helikaon looked around for further attackers, but it was Zidantas who emerged from the crowd.
‘I am sorry,’ he said, looking crestfallen. ‘I should have been by your side.
They played it neatly, though. We were watching the wrong men.’
Helikaon stood silently, looking down at the dead man. The man was young, his hair curly and dark. Somewhere there would be a wife, or a lover, and parents who had nurtured him. He had played games with other children, and had dreamed of a future bright with promise. Now he lay here on the sand, his life ended.
Helikaon’s thoughts were bleak.
‘Are you all right?’ asked Zidantas.
Helikaon turned back to where the woman had been standing. But she was gone. He shivered. Then the familiar post-battle head pain began, a throbbing ache emanating from the back of his neck and spreading up over the crown of his head.
He realized Ox was looking at him, an expression of concern on his face.
‘I am fine, Ox.’
Zidantas looked unconvinced. Oniacus pushed through the crowd to join them.
‘The Mykene have returned to their galleys,’ he said. Then he saw the dead man and swore. ‘I am sorry, lord, I should have been here. They fooled us by—’
‘I have already explained,’ snapped Zidantas. ‘Still, no harm done. One less Mykene in the world. All in all a good night.’
Thunderous cheering broke out as Odysseus finished his tale. Oniacus swore. ‘I missed the ending,’ he complained.
‘So did he,’ said Helikaon, pointing to the corpse. ‘Let us move away.’ Tossing the dagger alongside the body he walked back to the Xanthos campfire. Behind them someone shouted, and a crowd gathered round the corpse. Helikaon picked up a water jug and drank deeply. Then he poured water over his hands, washing the blood clear. In the firelight he saw that more blood had spattered over his tunic.
Odysseus wandered over to the fire. He was carrying a linen cloth, and wiping sweat from his face. He slumped down alongside Helikaon.
‘I am getting too old for these athletic performances,’ he said. ‘I need to have a strong word with those sheepshaggers who held the stall. Damned if they weren’t trying to toss me onto the beach.’
He did look tired. Helikaon threw his arm round the older man’s shoulder. ‘There will be gloom over the whole world if you ever stop telling your tales.’
‘Aye, it was a good audience tonight. I used to tell that story with two Cyclops. Strange how one works better. More… more terrifying, and yet, somehow, pathetic’ He leaned in close to Helikaon. ‘I take it the dead man was one of Kolanos’ crew?’
‘Yes.’
‘Never liked Kolanos. Was at a feast with him one time. Never heard him fart at all. Can’t trust a man who doesn’t fart at a feast.’ Helikaon laughed aloud.
‘Don’t treat him lightly, though, lad,’ Odysseus continued. ‘He is a man of great malice. Back in Mykene he is known as the Breaker of Spirits.’
‘I will be wary, my friend. Tell me, while you were performing did you happen to see a tall woman in a green cloak? Looked like a goddess?’
‘As a matter of fact, I did. Standing off to my right. Why? Did she rob you?’
‘I think she did. She stole my wits.’
Odysseus leaned forward, took the water jug and drank deeply. Then he laid it down and belched loudly. ‘Men should always be careful when choosing women. Or we should follow the Gypptos and have a score or two. Then one or two bad ones could pass unnoticed.’
‘I think Penelope would be interested to hear you voice that opinion.’
Odysseus chuckled. ‘Aye, she would. She’d cuff me round the head. But then I was lucky, lad. There is no woman on this green earth better than my Penelope. I couldn’t imagine sharing my life with anyone else. You might find that with Kreusa.’
Helikaon looked at his friend. ‘Not you too? Is there no-one who hasn’t heard about Priam’s matchmaking?’
‘I heard you refused her. And that Priam is none too happy with you, lad.’
‘His unhappiness concerns me not at all. And as for Kreusa .. . I recall you struggling to find something pleasant to say about her. What was it in the end?
Ah yes. “She has a nice speaking voice.” ‘
‘Well, she does,’ said Odysseus, with a wide smile. ‘She is also wonderful to look upon. Dazzling, in fact. And she’s not weak. However, I take your point.
Not a woman I’d risk a storm to sail home to. Ah well, you should marry her, then build yourself a few more palaces around the Great Green, and set convivial wives in each of them. Gyppto women are said to be the best. You could build a great palace. Labour is cheap. You buy slaves by the hundred, I’m told.’
Helikaon shook his head. ‘I want no more palaces, Odysseus.’ He rubbed at his eyes as the headache worsened.
‘A shame Phaedra wasn’t a king’s daughter,’ continued Odysseus. ‘Now there’s a woman to gladden any man’s heart.’
‘She has many virtues.’
