examined the bronze blade under lamplight. His warrior’s eye noted the sheen. Bronze swords were notoriously treacherous. Too soft and they would bend out of shape in a fight. Too hard and they would shatter on impact. But this blade seemed different. ‘Crafted by a master,’ he said. ‘I have never seen the like before.’
As Kygones had anticipated, Helikaon was too sharp not to know what was expected of him. ‘I am glad that you like it, my friend, for I brought it with me as a gift for you,’ he said smoothly.
Lifting the scabbard from the loop at his belt he passed it to the king.
Kygones chuckled. ‘You know the way to an old soldier’s heart. Here!’ he called to Argurios. ‘A warrior such as yourself will appreciate this weapon.’ Flicking his wrist he tossed the blade through the air. Argurios caught it expertly, and Kygones noted the gleam of pleasure in the man’s eyes as he felt the balance of the blade.
‘It is superb.’ The Mykene’s voice was awestruck.
‘Who knows,’ said Kygones, retrieving the blade, ‘I might be using it before long. But for now I will rest.’
The men bowed and walked to the door. ‘Ah!’ the king called out. ‘A moment of your time, Helikaon.’
Argurios and Glaukos left the room. Helikaon waited in the doorway. Kygones indicated he should shut the door and come back inside. ‘Sit down, and let us talk awhile.’
‘I thought you were tired, my friend.’
‘The company of Mykene always tires me.’ Lifting a pitcher of water he filled his goblet. ‘They are an unpleasant people altogether. Hearts like lions, minds like snakes. Which is why I wanted to speak to you privately. Although Argurios strikes me as a better man than most of his race.’ Kygones looked closely at his guest. Helikaon’s face was pale, and there were lines of tension around his eyes. ‘Are you ill, my friend?’
‘No. A little head pain. It is already passing.’
Kygones poured a fresh goblet of water and passed it to Helikaon. ‘Usually I have twice as many soldiers on hand when there are ships beached. However, the Hittites requested five hundred fighting men four days ago and my troops are spread thin.’
‘Five hundred? There are fears of an Egypteian invasion?’
‘It has already happened. A Gyppto army is moving up through Palestine. They have pushed north. Hektor and a thousand Trojan cavalry have joined the Hittites to confront them. The fat Maeonian merchant saw them pass three days ago.
Interesting times lie ahead. The world is about to change, I think. Too many kings. Too many armed men with no employment. The Hittite empire is in its death throes. Something will replace it.’
‘Not Egypte,’ said Helikaon. ‘They are wondrously equipped for desert warfare, but their troops are too lightly armed for battle in northern climes. And Hektor will not be defeated. The Trojan Horse are invincible in battle.’
‘What of the Mykene?’
Helikaon looked surprised. ‘The Mykene empire is in the west. They do not have the ships, or the men, to invade the east.’
‘Agamemnon is a man of new ambitions. However, that is not my most pressing problem at the moment. My immediate concern is the sea. The trading season is almost done, but I am wondering whether the Gypptos will try to land a force on my coast. It would be a fine diversion. To offset this threat I could use…
say… ten galleys until the spring.’
Kygones smiled inwardly as he saw the Golden One’s expression change, his eyes narrowing, his mind weighing the cost. He wouldn’t want to lose the friendship of a powerful king, but equally he would have no wish to find himself at odds with the power of Egypte. As a trader he needed access to Egypteian ports to sell cargoes of olive oil, decorated copper vessels, and Mykene jars. From those ports he would load Egypteian wares, like gold, salt, alabaster and papyrus.
Kygones leaned back. He knew what Helikaon was thinking. Such a raid, with its attendant disadvantages, was extremely unlikely, while leasing galleys and crews to Kygones would provide income during the lean winter months, when trading on the Great Green was minimal.
‘Ten would not be enough to prevent an invasion,’ Helikaon said, suddenly.
‘I have hired others. That is why Kolanos is here. His three galleys are now part of my fleet. I have other captains sailing here for the winter.’
‘I will sell you ten ships,’ said Helikaon. ‘They will then be yours to command as you see fit. I will buy them back in the spring for the same price – as long as they are undamaged. You must supply your own sails. The Black Horse of Dardanos will not be seen to take part in any war.’
‘And the crews?’
‘They will be like the Mykene, mercenaries. Your treasury will pay them fighting wages. One hundred copper rings for each man.’
‘Pah! What if there is no fighting? Fifty rings a man.’
‘Ten ships, ten crews, one hundred rings a man. Come, come, my friend, you know this is fair. You just cannot resist haggling.’
‘Fair? Why don’t you just rip the shirt from my back and steal my boots too?’
‘I gave you those boots last spring.’
Kygones laughed. ‘So you did. Damned good boots they are too. Very well, Helikaon, I will agree to seventy rings a man. But only because I like you.’
‘What are you paying the Mykene?’
‘Sixty.’
For a while Helikaon said nothing, his face becoming mask-like, showing no emotion at all. Kygones cursed inwardly. He had spoken without thinking. The amount was correct, but it was too low, and had aroused the Golden One’s suspicions. Then Helikaon appeared to relax. He shrugged. ‘Friends must not fall out over such matters,’ he said. ‘Seventy rings it is. I will send the galleys from Troy.’
‘Excellent! And now I really will take to my bed,’ said the king. ‘May your travels be blessed with fine winds and fair skies.’ As Kygones spoke he realized he actually meant it. He had always liked Helikaon.
Such a shame then that he had to die tonight.
XI
Swords in the Moonlight
i
Leaving the apartments of Kygones, Helikaon walked back through the megaron, where the remains of the food were being cleared away. He looked around for Zidantas, then summoned a servant. ‘Did you see my companion, the big man with the forked beard?’
‘No, lord.’
Moving on, he asked several others. Finally a stoop-shouldered servant with watery eyes supplied an answer. ‘I saw him talking to Captain Galeos, then he left.’
‘Where will I find Captain Galeos?’
Following the man’s directions, Helikaon left the megaron and emerged onto an outside terrace. The night air was crisp with the promise of rain, and a cool wind was blowing from the sea. Helikaon paused to stand by the walkway rail and gaze down at the beach. Fires were still burning, but most of the sailors, who would be working hard from dawn’s first light, were now asleep. Many of the stalls were covered by canvas sheets, their owners, wrapped in blankets, sitting by them, watching for thieves. As he stood, breathing in the sweet air, Helikaon thought through the events of the night.
It had been surprising that the Mykene had tried to kill him on the Fat King’s beach. Kygones was not a forgiving man. Transgressors had their throats cut. The second attack, so close to the palace, bordered on the
