Helikaon paused, then spoke again. ‘Last night you proved your honour and saved my life. For that I am in your debt. Therefore you are safe, Argurios. However, as I said before, you are not welcome here.’
Kygones looked at the Mykene warrior, who was standing stiffly, his hand upon his sword. Then he spun on his heel and stalked away.
Helikaon swung back to Kygones. ‘This is no longer a safe haven for honest sailors,’ he said. ‘My ships’ captains will be instructed to avoid your bays.’
With that he took up the blood-drenched sack and strode to the Xanthos.
Kygones felt sick. The loss of income from Helikaon’s fifty ships would be a huge blow to his treasury. Within a year he would be unable to pay his mercenaries, and that would mean the bandits in the high country would begin once more to raid caravans passing through his territory. More loss of income.
Men from the Xanthos and the Penelope moved forward to push the great ship from the beach. As it floated clear the last of the crew swarmed up the ropes, and the rowers took up their positions. The mysterious hammering continued. As the Xanthos inched back, then swung, Kygones saw that several wooden structures were being added to the decks. But by now the king didn’t care what they were building. He felt as if he had been stabbed, and his lifeblood was flowing to the beach.
Odysseus spoke then, his words cold. ‘Ithakan ships will beach here no more either, Kygones. When word gets out others will come to the same conclusion.’ Kygones did not reply and Odysseus strode away. All along the beach there was an unusual lack of activity. No other ships were being launched. They all knew what was about to take place beyond the bay. And they would wait until the battle was over.
iii
Andromache remained silent as she walked alongside Odysseus. The interplay between the men had been fascinating to observe, and there were undercurrents she could not identify. Kygones had been nervous when he approached Helikaon.
Why should that be? Although she disliked the Fat King, he was not a timid man, nor one easily frightened. On the walk to the beach he was tense, and had warned his men to watch for signs of hostility. Why would he expect hostility? It was not his soldiers who had attacked Helikaon. Odysseus too seemed different today.
Sadder and older. ^>he glanced at him as they walked to the remains of the Penelope’s campfire. He looked fearful, his face pale, his manner subdued.
There was a group of men round the fire as they approached, and a tawny-haired young boy, his face ashen, his eyes wide. Odysseus knelt down by him.
‘The Penelope is a good ship, Xander. A ship of legend. You will be able to tell your grandchildren you sailed on her.’
The boy looked up. ‘Why did they do that to Zidantas?’
‘Listen to me, lad. You could spend a lifetime trying to understand the works of evil men. Their joys are not ours. They love to inflict pain, create suffering, cause harm and death. It empowers them, for beneath the skin they are empty and worthless. Zidantas will walk the Elysian Fields in eternal sunshine. For the gods love a good man.’
‘I just want to go home,’ said the boy miserably.
‘Me too,’ Odysseus told him. ‘But for now go and get yourself some breakfast, and bring me a slab of sweet pie from the stall yonder.’
Two soldiers arrived and laid Andromache’s chests down on the sand. She thanked them and they moved away. Then Odysseus turned and watched the Xanthos sailing across the bay.
He wandered down to the shoreline. Andromache joined him there, and they stood in silence for a while, watching the new sun reflected in fragmented gold on the blue of the sea.
‘What is wrong, Odysseus?’ she asked him. ‘Is it the coming battle? Do you fear for your friend?’
Odysseus shivered suddenly. ‘I am filled with fear, but not for his safety.
Helikaon is a fighter, but there are depths to the man which should never be plumbed.’
‘I do not understand you.’
He sighed. ‘Sometimes when a fear is voiced the gods are listening, and they make it real. So let us wait and see whether my fears are groundless.’
Andromache stood with him as the Xanthos was eased back from the bay into deeper water. After a while Xander returned with a slab of pie. Odysseus thanked him.
When the boy had gone the Ithakan king stood silently. ‘Why did they do that to his friend?’ asked Andromache.
‘To make Helikaon angry, to rob him of reason. To draw him out in a rage.’ He swore softly. ‘Mostly, though, Kolanos did it because he likes to inflict pain.
He is a wretch.’
‘It seems to have succeeded. Helikaon does seem… broken by the loss.’
‘It won’t succeed. I know Helikaon. When he sails out his mind will be calm.’ He forced a smile. ‘He called you goddess again.’
‘I know. It surprises me that I have not heard his name before.’
‘Ah, you probably have. Helikaon is what his friends call him. His name is actually Aeneas, and he is a prince of Dardania.’
‘You are right, Odysseus, I have heard that name. The man who didn’t want to be a king.’
‘Far more to it than that,’ said Odysseus. ‘Less about what he might have wanted, and more about honouring his father. Not that the bastard deserved such a son. Anchises was a vile man. Should have been born with scaled skin like a lizard. He had dispossessed Helikaon, and had named his other son, Diomedes, as his heir.’
‘Why?’
‘A long story. I’ll tell you about it on the voyage to Troy. However, Anchises was murdered on the night we sailed into his bay. Helikaon had been a crew member on the Penelope for two years, and we had just beached below his father’s fortress. The assassin struck that night. With the king dead and the named heir still an infant the situation was rife for civil war. A nation can have only one king. And you know what would happen in most kingdoms?’
‘The child and his mother would be killed,’ said Andromache. ‘Or men loyal to the queen would try to assassinate Helikaon.’
‘Exactly. Some of the queen’s followers arrived on the beach, intent on killing him. Other loyal men gathered round to stop them. The men of the Penelope had weapons in their hands. They would have fought for Helikaon, for they loved him.
Still do. There should have been a battle.’ Odysseus chuckled. ‘By the balls of Ares, you know what he did? At seventeen! He ordered everyone to sheathe their weapons, approached the men who had come to kill him, and told them to take him to the queen. She was in her apartments, surrounded by loyal guards. She was terrified, for Halysia – though a sweet girl – is not a strong woman. Helikaon told her the child would be safe, and that she would not be harmed. He then pledged to follow his father’s wishes, and swore allegiance to Halysia and Diomedes. He was standing there unarmed, completely in her power, and yet he had won. His authority had overwhelmed them all. That and the sincerity he radiated.
Over the next few months he reorganized the kingdom, appointing new counsellors to serve the queen. No battles, no civil war, no killings. Unusual, you agree?’
‘Yes it is,’ she said. ‘Why did he do it?’
‘You must ask him that. He might even tell you.’ Odysseus moved to the shoreline and sat down on a rock. ‘There’ll be no ships sailing for a while,’ he said. ‘So we will breakfast here.’ He began to eat the pie Xander had brought.
‘Tell me of Helikaon,’ said Andromache, seating herself close by. ‘Does he have children?’
Odysseus chuckled. ‘You mean is he wed? No. He is waiting for love. I hope he finds it.’
‘Why would he not? He is young and rich and brave.’
