‘Prince, is it? It seems… to me… that Troy is thick with princes. You must be… the runt of the litter.’
Xander gasped. Young as he was he knew that the situation had suddenly become far worse. Dios stood for a moment, too shocked to speak. Then his eyes narrowed.
‘Have I offended you, puppy dog?’ snarled Argurios. ‘Then fetch swords and I’ll cut your… damned Trojan heart out!’
‘This has gone far enough,’ came a voice from the back of the crowd. A tall, broad-shouldered young man with red-gold hair pushed his way clear. ‘There will be no swords called for.’ He stared hard at Argurios. ‘I know of you, Mykene.
You are a fighting man, but your heart demands what your strength cannot supply.’ He turned to Andromache. ‘I do not know the ways of your land, sister-to-be. Here in Troy noble women do not swim alongside men. It is considered… immoral. However, if no-one explained this to you, then you cannot be held at fault.’ Then he swung back to the angry Dios. ‘My brother, I don’t doubt that our father will hear of this and make his own judgements. For now, however, let us put aside thoughts of combat.’
‘This wretch insulted me!’ stormed Dios.
‘Yes, he did,’ agreed the young man amiably. ‘As you can see, though, he is recovering from severe wounds and in no condition to fight. So store your grievance for now. If you still feel the need to avenge the affront when Argurios is strong again, then so be it.’
‘And I will!’ insisted Dios. He glared at Argurios. ‘We will meet again.’
The Mykene merely nodded. Dios stalked away, followed by a group of young men.
The crowd thinned. ‘What is… your name?’ Argurios asked the newcomer.
‘I am Agathon. Now, let us sit in the shade and talk of less violent matters.
Dios is a hothead, but he is not malicious. I would not wish to see him killed –
even by a great hero.’
It seemed to Xander that Agathon was the most noble man he had ever seen. He looked like a god. His eyes were the deepest blue, and he seemed to dwarf Argurios.
Andromache laid her hand on the prince’s arm. ‘That was well done, Agathon,’ she said.
They walked back to the canopy, Xander following unnoticed. Laodike moved forward to kiss Agathon on both cheeks. ‘You are so like Hektor,’ she said.
‘We are not so alike, sister. Believe me.’
Argurios stretched himself out on a rug placed on the sand, and seemed to fall asleep. Laodike sat alongside Agathon, and Xander moved to sit beside Andromache. Still no-one spoke to him.
‘News of Hektor came in this morning,’ said Agathon. ‘There was a great battle at a place called Kadesh. The reports are sketchy, but it seems the Egypteians almost had the day. Only a charge from the Trojan Horse held them back.’
‘See! I told you,’ Laodike said to Andromache. ‘Hektor always wins.’
‘Is the fighting over?’ asked Andromache.
‘No. The battle was undecided. There were great losses, however, on both sides.
We have no details as yet.’
‘A pox on the details,’ muttered Laodike. ‘Hektor will have the victory, and he will come home to a great parade.’
‘I hope that you are right, sister. However, according to one report the Trojan Horse were cut off, and had not rejoined the main Hittite army by dark. We must pray to the gods of war that Hektor is not among the fallen.’
‘Do not say things like that!’ Laodike admonished him. ‘I don’t want to hear such talk.’
Xander saw the prince glance at Andromache. ‘Will you walk with me on the sand?
There are some matters I would dearly like to discuss with you.’
‘As long as it is not considered immoral,’ said Andromache, rising smoothly to her feet.
Xander watched them walk away. Laodike seemed downcast. ‘Shall I fetch you something to drink?’ Xander asked her.
‘No. I am not thirsty.’ She glanced down at Argurios. ‘He is very thin, and his colour is not good. Perhaps you should fetch him some fruit nectar. Mother says it is good for the blood. He is a very rash man, isn’t he?’ she added. ‘He took a dreadful risk by angering Dios. Dios is a good swordsman, you know, and very quick.’
‘He is… a puppy,’ said Argurios, heaving himself to a sitting position. ‘And you are correct. I am too thin.’
‘I did not mean to offend you, sir,’ said Laodike, embarrassed. ‘I thought you were asleep.’
‘You did not offend me. And these… days… I cannot sleep lying… down. It seems easier to breathe while upright.’ Argurios looked at Xander. ‘That nectar sounds good,’ he said.
Xander ran to the food tables and brought back a goblet of thick golden juices and handed it to the warrior, who drank deeply. ‘You are a good lad,’ he said, as he laid the empty goblet on the sand. ‘Makes me… wonder… why I never had personal .. . slaves… before.’
‘I am not your slave,’ said Xander.
Argurios thought for a moment. ‘That was ill-spoken… by me, lad. Of course you are… not. You are a friend. That means… much to me.’
‘Why have you never had a personal servant?’ asked Laodike. ‘Are you not a famous hero in your own land?’
‘Never… desired them. I have always… been… a soldier. I had a shield carrier once. Fine young man. Died in Thessaly.’
‘What about your home?’
He shook his head. ‘My father had no wealth. I have… in my life… acquired farmlands, and there are… slaves who… toil upon them. I leave them to themselves mostly.’ His expression darkened. ‘But they are my lands no longer. I am a banished man. Outside the law.’ He glanced out at the sea. ‘I think I will… swim again.’ Struggling to his feet he walked down to the shoreline and removed his faded tunic.
‘A strange man,’ Laodike observed.
‘He called me his friend,’ said Xander happily.
‘And you should be honoured. Such a man does not give his friendship lightly.’
XXIV
Warnings of War
i
Andromache was enjoying the walk with Agathon. In some ways he reminded her of Odysseus. She smiled at the thought. Odysseus was an ugly old charmer, and would have been delighted to be compared to the Trojan prince. It was not the good looks, however, more the easy manner which encouraged familiarity. She listened as he spoke of his love for the city, and sensed a genuine warmth in him. They paused by a rocky outcrop. The clouds above were thickening, and the sky was i growing gloomy. At last he fell silent, and stared out to sea.
‘Are we now going to speak of the matter that is closest to your heart?’ she asked him.
He gave a wry grin. ‘Yes. You are sharp as a sword.’
‘I am intelligent. Why do so many people find that intimidating?’
‘I cannot answer that – though I know it to be true.’ He paused, then met her gaze. ‘I wanted to talk about Hektor. The news is less good than I implied to Laodike. She is a sweet girl, but she adores our brother and I did not want to alarm her. According to our reports, Hektor led a reckless charge to turn the Egypteian flank. He succeeded, but the last anyone saw of him he was cleaving his way into the centre of the enemy ranks. The Hittites were forced to withdraw. Hektor did not return to their camp, though some riders did. They said Hektor and around
