She recognized it as Kygones’.
‘Wait a moment,’ she called. Polysia helped her into her long green gown, then the servant ran to the door, opened it, and stepped back, head bowed.
Kygones entered. His face was pale and tension clung to him like a cloak. ‘You will be leaving for Troy today,’ he said. ‘Gather your belongings and I will take you to the beach.’
‘It should be an exciting walk,’ she said. ‘I understand someone is killed every few moments on your beaches.’
His face hardened. ‘Last night was exceptional,’ he said. ‘We are not savages here.’
‘But someone was beheaded, I understand.’
‘Be ready as soon as you can,’ he said, then stalked from the room. Andromache turned back to Polysia.
‘I think you would enjoy life on Thera,’ she told her.
‘I wish you were not leaving,’ answered the girl sadly.
‘Perhaps we will meet again. I hope so. Now help me gather my belongings, Polysia. The king is impatient.’
ii
Kygones was in no mood for conversation as he walked down the hill path alongside Andromache. Twenty soldiers followed them, two of them carrying the chests containing Andromache’s clothes. As he walked Kygones kept his hand on the hilt of the bronze sword Helikaon had given him. He was hoping it would not be necessary to use it.
How, in the name of Zeus, had the Golden One known the assassins would be waiting?
The Fat King wished he had never listened to Kolanos, nor allowed thoughts of Agamemnon’s gold to tempt him. The gold was worth more than two years of trading with Helikaon’s ships, and the Golden One’s death would not severely affect his profits. Someone else would have inherited the ships, and they would still use Blue Owl Bay. It had seemed so simple. Keep his soldiers back and allow Kolanos to kill Helikaon on the beach. When that failed he had invited the Golden One to the palace. Surely the assassins on the cliff path could kill him. But no. That left only the trip back to the beach.
Kygones had even managed to divest Helikaon of his sword – and still he had evaded assassination. The king shivered, and wondered if the gods themselves were protecting the Golden One.
The biggest question, however, and the one that filled his mind as he walked to the shore was: does he know?
And then there were the other deaths. The palace guard’s murder was senseless.
It took no great wit to realize that Kolanos, or one of his men, angry at missing the chance to kill Helikaon, had vented his fury on the poor unfortunate who had changed clothes with him.
But the headless corpse. That was another matter entirely. The body had been covered in cuts and burns, and had been disembowelled before the beheading. The wrists were bound, the skin around the binding ripped and torn, showing how the tortured man had writhed and struggled in his agony.
It was an act of barbarity that even Kygones found hard to take. Kill a man, yes, but torture and mutilation? No civilized man should involve himself in such vileness. What would be the effect on Helikaon, he wondered? He glanced back at his soldiers. They had been warned to watch for any sign of hostility.
The beach was still crowded, but there was little movement, and the mood there was sombre. Word had obviously spread. Kygones struggled to stay calm as he approached the Xanthos. Helikaon was standing talking with the Ithakan king, Odysseus. In the background Kygones could hear the sound of hammers and saws coming from the great ship. He looked up, but the decks were too high to see where the noise originated. Helikaon and Odysseus ceased their conversation as Kygones came closer.
The king looked into Helikaon’s eyes and shuddered inwardly. His gaze was cold, and it seemed to the king that the temperature dropped as those eyes met his.
‘I regret the death of your man,’ said the king. Helikaon did not reply for a moment, and the silence grew. Kygones saw that he was staring intently at Hektor’s bride-to-be. ‘Allow me to introduce Andromache, daughter of the king of Thebe Under Plakos.’
‘You are to marry Hektor?’ he said.
‘That is my father’s command,’ she replied. He fell silent again, and Kygones pressed on.
‘You agreed last night to offer her passage to Troy.’
Helikaon did not look at the king. His gaze remained locked on the face of Andromache. ‘You must travel with Odysseus,’ said Helikaon. ‘Three warships are waiting outside the bay. They will seek to finish what they began last night.’
Kygones spoke again. ‘Kolanos is… a savage. He is no longer part of my fleet.’
And still the Golden One failed to respond. Instead he turned away to stare out to sea. Then followed a moment so bizarre that Kygones’ stomach turned. The prince knelt down by a blood-drenched sack in the sand. Opening it he lifted forth a severed head. It had been mutilated, the eyes gouged out. Congealing blood covered the stump of the neck, and stained Helikaon’s hands. ‘You remember my friend, Zidantas,’ he said, his voice conversational and calm, his expression unchanged. Shifting his hold, he held the head against his chest. The movement caused a severed vein to open. Blood dripped sluggishly onto his blue tunic, but he did not seem to notice. In the silence that followed Kygones could hear his own heart beating. Then Helikaon spoke again. ‘Zidantas came to this place in good faith, seeking rest for the night. He came to this bay because it is well known that King Kygones keeps it safe. His soldiers patrol it. They are everywhere, preventing fights. Not last night, though. Last night this good man was lured away from your palace. Then he was tortured. Then he was killed.’
Kygones’ throat was dry. He licked his lips. ‘I explained about the lack of soldiers,’ he said. ‘And I share your pain at the loss of a crewman. However, think of Andromache, my friend. This grisly display must surely be upsetting for her.’
Helikaon seemed puzzled. ‘Are you upset, goddess?’ he asked. ‘Does the sight of my friend, Zidantas, cause you distress?’
‘No,’ she answered calmly. ‘I did not know him. He must have been a good man, though, for his loss to hurt you so.’
Kygones saw the softness of her words breach Helikaon’s defences. A muscle in the prince’s cheek twitched as he fought for control. Lifting the head to his face he kissed the brow, then returned it to the bloody sack. ‘Yes, he was a good man,’ he said. ‘Father to six daughters. He was loyal and he was brave, and he deserved better than to die like this, murdered by Mykene savages.’
‘Yes, he was murdered by savages,’ said a voice. ‘Do not seek to brand all Mykene with this monstrous act.’
Kygones swung to see the warrior Argurios moving through the crowd.
‘You are not welcome here,’ said Helikaon. ‘I see your friend Glaukos has left with Kolanos and his murderers. Perhaps you should have joined them. Then we could have met at sea, and you could have tried for your revenge.’
‘It is true that I wish to avenge Alektruon,’ said Argurios. ‘But I would do it facing you, sword to sword. I am no back-stabber, Helikaon. And no torturer either.’
‘Ah,’ said Helikaon, ‘a good man, then, and a hero. Perhaps you would like to accompany us as we hunt down Kolanos and bring him to justice. We will not have far to go.’
Kygones saw Argurios’ expression harden. ‘Kolanos deserves to die,’ he said, ‘but I cannot raise my sword against another Follower. I will, however, report this atrocity to my king. You should remember, though, Helikaon, that Kolanos is not the first to sever a head and put out the eyes.’
Helikaon nodded. ‘There is truth in that, though it is a Mykene truth, and that means it is twisted beyond recognition. Alektruon was a barbaric murderer, killed cleanly in single combat, following an unprovoked attack on a neutral vessel. Zidantas was a sailor, overpowered and tortured. His hands were bound.
The blood upon his face shows his eyes were gouged out while he still lived.’
