every champion they sent.’
‘Why did they not all just rush at him in a charge? One man could not have stopped them all, surely?’
‘I suppose that is true. Perhaps they valued his courage. Perhaps they wanted to test themselves against the best. I do not know.’
‘Thank you, Polydorus,’ she said. ‘And now you must go and find that gift.’ He bowed his head and turned away. On impulse she reached out and touched his arm.
The young soldier was shocked. ‘Go to the silversmith,’ she said, with a smile.
‘And tell him I sent you. Pick a fine statue and instruct him to come to me for payment.’
‘Thank you. I… do not know what to say.’
‘Then say nothing, Polydorus,’ she told him.
That afternoon she had walked down to the House of Serpents, ostensibly to collect more medicines for Hekabe. In fact, though, she wandered the grounds until she caught sight of Argurios. He was chopping wood. She stood in the shadows of a stand of trees and watched him. He had put on weight, and his movements were smooth and graceful, the axe rising and falling, the wood splitting cleanly.
She stood for a while, trying to think of what she might say to him. She wished she had worn a more colourful dress, and perhaps the gold pendant with the large sapphire. Everyone said it was a beautiful piece. Then grim reality struck home, and her heart sank. You are a plain woman, she told herself. No amount of gold or pretty jewellery can disguise it. And you are about to make a fool of yourself.
Turning away she decided to return to the palace, but she had taken no more than a few steps before the healer Machaon came round the corner of a building and saw her. He bowed deeply. ‘I did not know you were here, Laodike,’ he said. ‘Has your mother’s condition worsened?’
‘No. I was just… out walking,’ she replied, reddening.
He glanced beyond her to where Argurios was still working. ‘His recovery is amazing,’ he said. ‘His breathing is almost normal, and his strength is returning at a fine rate. Would that all those I treated showed such determination. How goes it, Argurios?’ he called out.
The Mykene thunked the axe into a round of wood, and swung to face them. Then he walked across the grass towards them. Laodike tried to breathe normally, but felt panic rising.
‘Greetings,’ said Argurios.
‘And to you, warrior,’ she said. ‘I see that you are almost well.’
‘Aye, I feel power in me again.’
Silence fell. ‘Ah well,’ said Machaon, with a knowing smile, ‘I have patients to see to.’ Bowing once more, he went on his way.
Laodike stood very quietly, not knowing what to say. She looked at Argurios. His cheeks were shaved, the jutting chin beard trimmed, and sweat gleamed on his bare chest. ‘It is a fine day,’ she managed. ‘For the time of year, I mean.’ The blue sky was streaked with clouds, but at that moment the sun was shining brightly.
‘I am glad you came,’ he said suddenly. ‘I have been thinking of you constantly,’ he added, his tone awkward, his gaze intense.
In that moment Laodike’s nervousness vanished, and she felt a sense of calm descend on her. In the silence that followed she saw Argurios becoming ill at ease. ‘I never did know how to speak other than plainly,’ he said.
‘Perhaps you would like to walk for a while in the sunshine. Though, first, I suggest you put on your tunic’
They walked through the gardens and out into the lower town. Argurios said little, but the silence was comfortable. Finally they sat on a stone bench beside a well. Glancing back, she saw that two men had followed them, and were now sitting on a wall some distance away. ‘Do you know them?’ she asked, pointing.
His expression darkened. ‘They have been hired by Helikaon to protect me. There are others who come at night, and stand beneath the trees.’
‘That was kind of him.’
‘Kind!’
‘Why does it make you angry?’
‘Helikaon is my enemy. I have no wish to be beholden to the man.’ He glanced at the two bodyguards. ‘And any half-trained Mykene soldier could scatter those fools in a heartbeat.’
‘You are proud of your people.’
‘We are strong. We are unafraid. Yes, I am proud.’ A group of women carrying empty buckets approached the well. Laodike and Argurios moved away, up the slope towards the Scaean Gate. Passing through it they climbed to the battlements of the great wall and strolled along the ramparts.
‘Why were you banished?’ asked Laodike.
He shrugged. ‘Lies were told and believed. I can make little sense of it. There are men at the royal court with honeyed tongues. They fill the king’s ear with flattery. The old king I could talk to. Atreus was a warrior – a fighting man.
You could sit with him at a campfire, like any other soldier.’
Another silence grew. It did not bother Laodike, who was enjoying his company, but Argurios became increasingly uncomfortable. ‘I have never known how to talk to women,’ he said awkwardly. ‘I do not know what interests them. At this moment I wish I did.’
She laughed. ‘Life,’ she told him. ‘Birth and growth. Flowers that bloom and fade, seasons that bring sunshine or rain. Clothes that mirror the beauty that is all around us, the blue of the sky, the green of the grass, the gold of the sun. But mostly we are interested in people. In their lives and their dreams. Do you have a family back in Mykene?’
‘No. My parents died years ago.’
‘Not a wife at home?’
‘No.’
Laodike let the silence grow once more. She gazed out over the bay. There were few ships now, save for some fishing boats. ‘You were very rash with Dios,’ she said.
‘I did not like the way he spoke to you,’ he told her, and she saw anger again in his eyes.
The sun was low in the sky and Laodike turned. ‘I must be getting back,’ she said.
‘Will you visit me again?’ His nervousness was obvious, and it filled her with a confidence she rarely experienced in the company of men.
‘I might come tomorrow.’
He smiled. ‘I hope you do,’ he told her.
For the next ten days she came every day and they walked the great walls together. There was little conversation, but she enjoyed those times more than any she could remember. Especially the moment she slipped on a rampart step, and his arm swept round her before she could fall. Laodike leaned in to him then, her head upon his shoulder. It was exquisite, and she wished it could last for ever.
ii
Andromache thought she had never seen such a tall man as the Hittite emperor.
Hattusilis was even taller than Priam, and of much the same age, but he stooped as he walked and Andromache was sure he had bad feet, for he shuffled a little as if anxious not to lift them far from the ground.
He was thin to the point of emaciation, his hair oiled black and partly covered by a close-fitting cap. He glanced around Priam’s great, gold-filled megaron, looking strangely out of place in his simple, unadorned leather riding clothes.
He had ridden into the city, but Andromache knew the Hittite force had been camped out on the plain of the Simoeis overnight while the emperor rested, and that he had travelled much of the way from his capital in a rich and comfortable carriage.
Hattusilis carried two curved swords, one at his waist, the other unsheathed in his hand, and Andromache wondered at the frenzied negotiations that had taken place between the two sides since dawn to agree to that. He
