‘You are in Fire Seven. Each building here is marked by a different symbol, and each room has a number.’ He pointed to the closest door. ‘The first symbol on the door represents the element after which the area was named.’ Xander peered at the symbol carved into the wood. ‘What does it look like to you?’
‘Like a bow,’ he answered.
‘I suppose it does,’ agreed Machaon. ‘In fact the upturned half-circle is a cup.
So this building is Water. The mark below it is the number of the room. To the north is Earth, and the symbol there is a full circle, for all things come from the earth and return to the earth. Fire is directly across the garden from here, and on each door you will see another half-circle, resting downwards on a straight line. This represents the rising sun. Air is the building to your left.
On its walls you will see another half-circle standing upright, like a sail in the breeze.’
‘Thank you, sir. How do the gods know who kissed the papyrus?’
Machaon smiled. ‘The gods see all, Xander. They know what is in our hearts and in our minds.’
‘Why then do they need the papyrus at all?’
‘It is a ritual of worship; an indication of respect and adoration. We will talk about that tomorrow when I visit you. And now I must continue my work.’ Machaon rose. ‘You may walk around for a while. But try not to get in anyone’s way.’
Xander crossed the now deserted gardens and found his room. He was feeling dreadfully tired and weak. On trembling legs he made it to his bed and lay down.
The room seemed to be moving, as if it was on a ship. As he lay there he heard his door open and a figure came into sight.
It was Helikaon. Xander struggled to rise.
‘Stay where you are, boy,’ said the Golden One, sitting down on the bed.
‘Thank you, lord.’
‘The Xanthos is sailing for Dardania soon. Machaon believes you should stay here for the winter. He says it will take time for your strength to return.’
Xander did not reply. He was both relieved and disappointed. He had loved being part of the crew, but he dreaded another battle, and still had nightmares about burning men.
Helikaon seemed to read his thoughts. ‘I am truly sorry that your first voyage should have seen such tragedy. Odysseus tells me you saw Zidantas while you were in your fever.’
‘Yes, lord. Everyone was on the beach, and he was standing with some other men close by. One of them was Epeus.’
‘Epeus died in the battle,’ said Helikaon. ‘Did Zidantas speak to you?’
‘Yes. He told me to think of life and to come back to Troy. I wanted to go with him, but he said he was walking a dark road. He asked me to tell his daughter Thea that she gave him great joy.’
Helikaon sat silently for a few moments. ‘I think it was not a dream, Xander,’
he said at last. ‘I think it was a true vision. I will leave gold with the temple to pay for your keep. In the spring I will still have a place for you among my crew. There is something you can do for me, in return.’
‘Anything, lord.’
‘Argurios is here. He was stabbed, and I am told he is dying. I want you to visit him, see to his needs. I have hired other men to watch over him, to prevent the killers returning. Will you do this for me?’
‘Yes, lord, but Argurios does not like me.’
‘It would surprise me to find that Argurios liked anyone.’
‘What can I do?’
‘He is refusing to eat or drink. So, bring him food and water.’
‘Why doesn’t he want to eat?’
‘Evil men have taken away all that he has. I think a part of him does not want to live.’
‘I can’t make him eat, lord.’
‘Tell him you spoke to me and I laughed when I heard of his plight. Tell him I said that one less Mykene warrior in the world was a matter to be celebrated.’
‘He will hate you for that, won’t he?’
Helikaon sighed. ‘Yes, I expect he will. Go and find him when you are rested. He is in Air, and his room is close to the portico entrance.’
ii
Karpophorus the assassin followed Helikaon up the hill towards the palace. It had been almost twenty years since he had killed anyone in Troy. The city had changed greatly since then, expanding in almost every direction. His last assassination here had seen him escape across a pasture into a small wood. The pasture now boasted scores of small houses lining narrow streets, and the wood had been chopped down to make way for a barracks. The imposing house of the merchant he had slain was also gone. That was a shame, he thought, for it had been well constructed, with pleasing lines.
A little way ahead Helikaon paused beside a clothing stall, and chatted to the owner. Karpophorus hung back, watching the exchange. The sun was bright over the golden city, and there were many people gathered in the market place.
How curious, he thought, that Helikaon should seem so relaxed here. He knew there were Mykene in the city, and at any time a killer could attack him.
Karpophorus scanned the crowd with suspicious eyes, seeking out any possible attacker, looking for signs of tension in the faces. He was determined that no other assassin should claim his prize.
Then Helikaon moved on.
Karpophorus followed him up another hill towards the golden-roofed palace of Priam.
It was then that he spotted a young man emerging from between two buildings. He was dark-haired, and slim, wearing a green tunic and sandals. There was a knife at his belt. Karpophorus had seen him in the crowd at the market. Increasing his pace Karpophorus closed the distance between them. As Helikaon turned another corner the newcomer slowly drew his dagger and stepped after him.
His own blade flashing into his hand Karpophorus broke into a run.
When he rounded the corner he saw the young man spread-eagled on the street, Helikaon standing above him.
‘My apologies,’ said Karpophorus. ‘I was a little slow.’
‘Nonsense, Attalus. It was my fault for ordering you to hang back.’ Helikaon grinned at him. ‘Let us hope that this fool is the best they have.’
‘Indeed,’ agreed Karpophorus.
The young man was still alive and conscious, though his knife was now in Helikaon’s hand. He glared up at the Golden One with a look of pure hatred.
Helikaon tossed the knife to the street and walked on. Karpophorus followed.
They walked in silence to the palace citadel, and Helikaon approached the guards at the double gates, then they passed under the shadow of the walls above and emerged onto a wide paved courtyard. ‘I shall be some time in the palace,’
Helikaon told him, ‘so go and get yourself some food. I will meet you at the entrance at dusk.’
Helikaon strolled towards the red columns of the palace entrance and Karpophorus found a place in the shade. He sat on a stone bench alongside a sweet-smelling climbing plant with purple flowers. It was pleasant here and he relaxed. It had been a relief to see the Penelope sail that morning. Ever since Bad Luck Bay Karpophorus had been forced to plan his every step. Odysseus knew his face, and would no doubt have guessed that he was stalking Helikaon.
As a passenger on the Penelope some nine years ago Karpophorus had been surprised when the Ithakan king approached him after they had beached one night.
