‘Okay, calm down.’ said Brandon.
India glared at him,
‘Legend has it that Zeus seduces Electra, one of seven Sisters known as the Pleiades and she falls pregnant, but when she pays tribute at the shrine of Pallas, Zeus is enraged that the statue has been soiled by the hands of an un-pure woman.’
‘Un-pure,’ said Brandon, ‘How?’
‘She was pregnant,’ said India, ‘Virginity was highly prized by the ancients.’
‘Seems to be a recurring theme,’ said Brandon.
‘Zeus cast the idol from Olympus,’ continued India, ‘And Electra returned to her birthplace on Samothrace, to build a new Temple, placing the statue of Pallas at its heart. Eventually Elektra gives birth to a son, Dardanus, and a few years later has another son, Iasion, again fathered by Zeus. The stories say that Zeus favours Iasion and teaches him the great mysteries of the pantheon, and Iasion starts a cult dedicated to the gods. People travel from all over the known world to this little known island to join the cult. The initiation rights became known as the Samothrace mysteries.
‘Is that where Phillip comes in?’ asked Brandon.
‘Oh no, he came thousands of years later,’ said India. ‘Anyway, when Iasion falls under the hooves of his horses during a chariot race and is killed, his brother, Dardanus is overcome with grief and leaves Samothrace, taking the statue of Pallus with him. He forms a new kingdom called Dardania, at the foot of Mount Ida in modern day turkey.’
‘Hence the name Dardanelles, I suppose,’ said Brandon.
‘You’re learning fast,’ said India. ‘His city thrived for three generations, until eventually, on his death bed, he summons his grandson, Illius. He told him to form a new city on the lower plains of Dardania and to place at its heart the statue of Pallus. He said that Zeus had visited him in a dream and had told him that the city would become the greatest ever seen, and, as long as the statue stayed at its heart, it would never fall to any enemy.’
‘And did he?’
‘He did, and the vision from Zeus was correct. It became one of the most famous cities of all time.’
‘What was it called?’
‘He named it after himself, and called it Illium.’
‘Never heard of it,’ said Brandon.
‘Perhaps you know it by the name of his father,’ said India, ‘His name was Tros.’
‘Troy,’ said Brandon immediately, ‘The city was called Troy.’
A call came over the tannoy, calling them to the plane.
‘We’ll continue this on board,’ said Brandon and they made their way to the gate. The conversation didn’t resume as they found themselves sharing a row of seats with a particularly friendly old lady, who insisted on talking to India for most of the flight. Finally they arrived in Rome and after they had cleared customs, they went out to find a taxi.
‘There they are,’ said India, and started to make her way over to the rank of white cabs.
‘Wait,’ said Brandon, ‘It’s all sorted.’ He walked towards the bus stop, and a battered old fiat pulled up before him.
‘Come on,’ he said, ‘This is our ride.’
She paused before getting in the back of the car and looked at the typical dark haired Italian behind the wheel.
‘Did you get my message?’ asked Brandon from the passenger seat as soon as they pulled off.
‘I did,’ said the driver, in a welsh accent, causing India to stare at him in amazement, ‘The package is in the glove compartment.’
Brandon retrieved a padded envelope, and took out a pistol and a thick bundle of fifty euro notes.
‘Any news on transport,’ asked Brandon.
‘Early morning flight to Athens,’ he said, ‘There’ll be a boat waiting for you the other end. Got you a safe house for tonight. The address is on the envelope.’
‘Great,’ said Brandon, putting the gun into his jacket pocket. ‘How’s business?’
‘Good,’ said the driver, ‘I’ll be sorry to leave.’
‘Always said you had all the easy jobs,’ said Brandon.
‘The summit ends in a couple of days,’ said the driver, ‘I’ve been told my next posting is out in the sticks.’
‘Good,’ said Brandon, ‘About bloody time you earned your rations’. He peered out of the window. ‘Could you drop us off here Jonesy?’ he asked suddenly.
‘Why here?’
‘The lady needs some bikinis.’ he said and the driver smiled at India in the rear view mirror. India threw him a sarcastic smile as he pulled over to the pavement.
‘I’ll take your bags to the house,’ said Jonesy, ‘Make sure you’re at the port by ten tomorrow morning. There’ll be a boat waiting.’
‘Will do,’ said Brandon, ‘See you soon.’
‘Take it easy,’ said the driver and drove off leaving them outside a shopping precinct.
Brandon peeled off twenty notes from the bundle and gave them to India.
‘I’ll be in that cafe,’ he said, ‘You go and get yourself some clothes.’
‘Do you need anything?’ she asked.
‘You could get me some shreddies,’ he said.
‘Shreddies?’ she asked with a sigh of impatience.
‘You know, underwear.’
‘Right. What about clothes?’
‘Already sorted,’ said Brandon, ‘The mob will have had some sent over already.’
‘The mob?’
‘India,’ said Brandon, ‘Stop asking questions and go and spend some money. I’ll have a dozen pairs of Calvins, the rest is yours, now, go and have fun. I’ll see you back here in two hours.’
‘Okay, keep your hair on,’ she said, ‘I was only asking. You secret squirrels can be so touchy.’ She turned around and stomped into the nearest shop doorway.
Brandon waited for a moment and watched in amusement as she pulled fruitlessly on the locked door handle. She took a deep breath and turned around to walk past him without making eye contact.
‘Don’t say a word,’ she snarled as she passed.
The following morning they returned to the airport and boarded a small plane to Athens. A few hours later they were stood on the quayside of the docks. India was reading a timetable on a chalkboard, written in Italian, Greek and English.
‘Next ferry is at one,’ she said. ‘Seems like we’ve got a bit of a wait.’
‘No we haven’t,’ said Brandon, ‘There’s our boat.’
She looked across and groaned as a battered fishing boat chugged alongside the harbour wall.
‘Don’t you guys ever travel in style?’ she asked.
‘Told you,’ he said, ‘Grey man.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ she sighed, ‘Whatever!’ She lifted her holdall and walked down to the jetty, closely followed by Brandon with his rucksack.
‘It stinks,’ said India as she stepped off the boarding plank. ‘Why can’t we take one of those?’ She pointed at one of the several cruise liners moored in the dock, preparing to disgorge their tourists into the city.
‘This will do fine,’ he answered and passed the bags to the boat’s captain. As soon as they were in, the boat chugged out of the harbour and into the blue waters of the Aegean Sea. India and Brandon sat at the rear of the boat in the shade of a makeshift tarpaulin shelter.
The Captain came back towards them with a couple of cans of coke.
‘Make yourself comfortable,’ he said in broken English, ‘The journey will take about three hours. Stay out of
