Part 41 (1/2)
”Brother!” Agamemnon turned. Menelaus had returned from the rear rooms pale-faced.
”Well? Was the rope there? Is the healer speaking the truth?”
”Yes, Brother, but there is something else you must see.” He gestured urgently for Agamemnon to join him.
The Mykene king sighed. His bodyguard at his side, he followed Menelaus into a small rear room. The window looked out to the north, and to its stone pillar was tied a strong rope. It had been cut near the top.
At Menelaus' urgent bidding, Agamemnon walked to the window and looked out.
It was well past noon, and the sun shone warmly on the meadows flanking the river Simoeis. Dry throughout the summer, the wide plains had been made verdant by the recent rains. But little greenery was now visible. As far as the eye could see, the plain was covered with armed men, cavalry and infantry in disciplined ranks, motionless, waiting for orders.
Menelaus gasped, ”Hitt.i.tes, Brother! The Hitt.i.te army is here!”
On a rocky clifftop to the east of the city the old smith Khalkeus lay in an exhausted sleep, his body curled protectively around the perfect sword. His hands had been burned badly trying to handle the weapon. The numbness in his fingers had masked the pain at first. He also, he thought, had not eaten for several days, although he was interested to find he no longer seemed to need food. His dwindling store of water smelled bad, but he sipped it from time to time.
At twilight he decided to return to the city to present the sword to the king. His few belongings, along with the tent that had sheltered him all summer, had been destroyed in the fire. He tucked the half-empty water skin under one arm and, gingerly cradling the sword across both forearms, set off.
The pain in his hands was torture. He was angry with himself. A smith with his experience should not make the mistakes of an apprentice. The raw red palms would take a long time to heal, and he would be hampered in his work.
He encouraged himself to go forward by visualizing the expression of awe and delight on the Mykene king's face when he saw the sword, his urgency as he begged Khalkeus to tell him how it was made. The old man felt a moment of regret that it would not be Helikaon who would receive the sword. He always had done his best work with the encouragement of the Dardanian king, but he had no doubt that by now the Trojans and their allies had been destroyed. As he walked toward the city, he could see flames leaping high from within the walls and hear the sounds of battle. He was curious to know how the western kings finally had taken the city. The idea of a great battering ram suspended on chains on a wheeled platform had been forming in his head. Distracted, he stumbled on the rocky ground and nearly fell. Careful, he thought to himself in a moment of clarity. You cannot afford to fall on your hands. He moved more slowly, picking his way in the darkness.
He paused for breath under the walls of Troy, beneath the northeast bastion, and drank some of his water. He sat down for a moment and fell instantly asleep.
It was well past dawn when he woke again. His hands were on fire, and his head ached abominably. He drained the water skin in one long gulp, then vomited most of it onto the ground. He threw away the water skin and slowly got to his feet. A long look at the perfect sword invigorated him, and he set off around the walls. He pa.s.sed the Dardanian Gate and the East Gate but found them both closed and sealed, and so he headed for the Scaean Gate.
But when he got there, those gates also were closed. He craned his neck to see the top of the wall but could see no guards. He wandered around the ruined lower town, but it was deserted. His strength exhausted, he sat down in the dust outside the wall. The six stone statues guarding the Scaean Gate watched him balefully.
It was a long time before there was a creak and a groan and the gates opened to allow a troop of soldiers out. He saw they were Mykene by their armor, and he struggled to his feet.
”You, soldiers, take me to Agamemnon!” he cried. Ignoring the waves of agony, he took the sword in both hands and waved it at them.
The troop ignored him and marched off down through the town.
”Your king is expecting me!” he shouted despairingly. ”This sword is for him, you idiots!”
A single soldier peeled off from the rear of the troop and walked toward him, sword unsheathed. Khalkeus saw that half the man's face was hideously scarred. Sand, he thought with sudden interest. That must be what red-hot sand does to flesh and skin.
The warrior did not hesitate or pause. ”Idiots, are we?” he asked. He rammed his sword through Khalkeus' chest, dragged it out, and rejoined his comrades.
It was like being hit by a hammer, Khalkeus thought as he fell, the perfect sword cast into the dust beside him. The pain in his hands had disappeared, he realized with relief.
He had a curious dream. He dreamed that he was on the Xanthos Xanthos and a stiff breeze was filling the black horse sail. The s.h.i.+p cut through the water, which was deep green and strangely still. The Golden One was striding toward him, the sunlight behind him outlining his form but putting his features in shadow. Khalkeus could not see well and felt very weak. Then he realized the golden man was bigger than Helikaon. In fact, he was a giant, and the light around him was not from the sun but was emanating from the man himself. Is it Apollo, the sun G.o.d? he wondered. Then, with a shock of realization, he saw the G.o.d was limping. and a stiff breeze was filling the black horse sail. The s.h.i.+p cut through the water, which was deep green and strangely still. The Golden One was striding toward him, the sunlight behind him outlining his form but putting his features in shadow. Khalkeus could not see well and felt very weak. Then he realized the golden man was bigger than Helikaon. In fact, he was a giant, and the light around him was not from the sun but was emanating from the man himself. Is it Apollo, the sun G.o.d? he wondered. Then, with a shock of realization, he saw the G.o.d was limping.
The G.o.d leaned down to him and gently took the perfect sword from his hands.
”You have done well, smith,” his deep voice boomed. ”Sleep now, and tomorrow we will set you to work.”
Tudhaliyas IV, emperor of the Hitt.i.tes, strode into Priam's megaron megaron surrounded by his retinue. Xander watched with interest. He never had seen an emperor before. Apart from the Hitt.i.te mercenaries he had treated, who seemed the same as any other mercenaries, the only Hitt.i.te Xander had met was Zidantas. Zidantas was huge, with a shaved head and a forked black beard. This emperor was thin and very tall, with a curled beard, and was dressed in s.h.i.+ny clothes like a woman. His retinue was even more strangely garbed in brightly colored kilts and striped shawls. But they all were armed to the teeth, as were their hosts. surrounded by his retinue. Xander watched with interest. He never had seen an emperor before. Apart from the Hitt.i.te mercenaries he had treated, who seemed the same as any other mercenaries, the only Hitt.i.te Xander had met was Zidantas. Zidantas was huge, with a shaved head and a forked black beard. This emperor was thin and very tall, with a curled beard, and was dressed in s.h.i.+ny clothes like a woman. His retinue was even more strangely garbed in brightly colored kilts and striped shawls. But they all were armed to the teeth, as were their hosts.
Xander had wanted to stay with the wounded, but as Agamemnon left the queen's gathering room, he suddenly turned to Meriones. ”Bring the healer,” he ordered.
Xander now stood nervously at Meriones' side, feeling that the black-clad Kretan was his only friend in the room.
Emperor and king met in the center of the megaron, megaron, which still was heaped with corpses and abandoned weapons. Tudhaliyas looked around silently, his dark eyes revealing nothing. which still was heaped with corpses and abandoned weapons. Tudhaliyas looked around silently, his dark eyes revealing nothing.
Agamemnon spoke first. ”My condolences on the death of your father. Hattusilis was a great man and a wise leader,” he said, and Xander was surprised at the sincerity in his voice. ”Welcome to Troy, a city of the Mykene empire.”
Tudhaliyas regarded him for a moment, then replied mildly, ”The Hitt.i.te emperor is accustomed to his va.s.sals prostrating themselves before him.”
Agamemnon's eyes hardened, but he replied evenly, ”I am no man's va.s.sal. I fought for this city, and you enter it with my permission. I opened the Scaean Gate to you as a gesture of friends.h.i.+p. Everything you see belongs to me. And to my brother kings,” he added swiftly, seeing Idomeneos frown.
”You fought to win this charnel house?” Tudhaliyas commented, looking around again at the corpses, the blood, and the gore. ”You must be very proud.”
”Let us not misunderstand each other,” Agamemnon replied smoothly. ”The allied kings of the west fought to win this city, and by superior strategy and military strength and the will of the G.o.ds, we succeeded. Your fame as a strategos strategos precedes you, Emperor. And you know that for a people to dominate the Great Green they must first dominate Troy.” precedes you, Emperor. And you know that for a people to dominate the Great Green they must first dominate Troy.”
”You are right, Mykene,” Tudhaliyas said. ”It is important that we do not misunderstand each other. Priam ruled this city on the suffrance of the Hitt.i.te emperors. Under his kings.h.i.+p Troy flourished and became rich, and the land was at peace. The city guarded the Hitt.i.te trade routes by sea and land, bringing prosperity to our great city Hattusas. Trojan troops fought for the empire in many battles. My friend Hektor”-he paused for the words to sink in-”was partly responsible for the triumph over the Egypteians at Kadesh.
”Now,” Tudhaliyas went on, his voice hardening, ”Troy is in ruins, its bay unnavigable. All its citizens are dead or fled, and its army is destroyed. The countryside is barren, with crops ruined and livestock dying. That is why I have taken the trouble to come here myself with my thirty thousand warriors.”
He paused, and a thoughtful silence hung in the air.
”The Hitt.i.te empire cares little who holds Troy if the city prospers and showers its wealth around it. But a dead city in a dying land attracts only darkness and chaos. The empire is forced to intervene.”
Xander felt the atmosphere in the megaron megaron become icy. There were fewer Hitt.i.tes in the chamber than there were Mykene warriors, but they were fresher and better armed, and they looked as though they were spoiling for a fight. become icy. There were fewer Hitt.i.tes in the chamber than there were Mykene warriors, but they were fresher and better armed, and they looked as though they were spoiling for a fight.
Agamemnon gazed around a.s.sessingly, perhaps thinking the same thing. ”Troy will prosper again under Mykene rule,” he vowed. ”By next summer the bay will be full of trading s.h.i.+ps once more. The city will be rebuilt, and under our strong leaders.h.i.+p it will flourish again.”
Tudhaliyas suddenly stepped forward, and Agamemnon instinctively moved back. The emperor, his bodyguard shadowing him, strode over to Priam's gold-encrusted throne and sat down gracefully. Agamemnon was forced to stand in front of him to speak to him.
Tudhaliyas told him, ”The Bay of Troy has been silting up over the last hundred years, I am told. Now a Mykene fleet lies wrecked there, and already new mud banks will be building around the hulks. My experts predict that within a generation the bay will have disappeared and the city will be landlocked. Trading s.h.i.+ps will pa.s.s it by in favor of the young cities flouris.h.i.+ng higher up the h.e.l.lespont. Troy is finished, Agamemnon, thanks to you.”
”I did not start this war, Emperor!” Agamemnon spit it out, his composure lost. ”But I saw, before all others, the danger Troy offered to the nations of the Great Green. Priam's ambition, backed by his son's cavalry and the Dardanian pirate fleet, was to subdue all free peoples to his will. And while others were bribed or seduced by him, Mykene was not fooled.”
Tudhaliyas leaned back in the throne and laughed, his voice echoing richly in the great stone hall. Then he told Agamemnon, ”This nonsense might have fooled your puppet kings as you sat around your campfires at night, telling one another Priam was a monster of ambition determined to conquer the world. Yet this monster brought forty years of peace until you chose to destroy it.”
”I have fought for this city,” Agamemnon roared. ”It is mine by right of arms.”
At that moment a Hitt.i.te warrior walked into the megaron megaron and nodded to the emperor. Tudhaliyas flicked his eyes to him, then back to the Mykene king. and nodded to the emperor. Tudhaliyas flicked his eyes to him, then back to the Mykene king.
”So you invoke the right of arms,” Tudhaliyas responded, smiling. ”At last, something we can agree on.”
He stood up and looked down at Agamemnon. ”Outside this city are thirty thousand Hitt.i.te warriors. They are all well fed and well armed, and they have marched a long way without the chance of a good fight.”
He paused as a Mykene warrior came into the megaron megaron and hurried up to Agamemnon. He spoke in the king's ear, and Xander saw Agamemnon blanch. and hurried up to Agamemnon. He spoke in the king's ear, and Xander saw Agamemnon blanch.
”I see you have heard, King,” Tudhaliyas said. ”My warriors have taken the Scaean Gate and are already starting to dismantle it. They will unseal all the great gates and take them apart one by one. For a while Troy will be a truly open city.”