David Gemmell - Lord of the Silver Bow

The red battle fury seeped away, and Helikaon raced back with the others. The Thrakians, realizing too late what was happening, gave chase.

Helikaon was the last man through the closing gates. As they slammed shut Polydorus and another soldier tipped a long timber locking bar into place.

Men were streaming from the palace now. ‘Arm yourselves with bows,’ Helikaon yelled at the soldiers. ‘Get to the walls. More will come.’ Turning to Argurios he said: ‘My thanks to you.’

‘There were only around fifty or so out there,’ said Argurios. ‘Must have been an advance party. How many Thrakians are there in all?’

‘A thousand.’

‘And you say there are Mykene coming?’

‘So I am informed.’

‘I believe I saw them. Four galleys beached as I was walking here. At least two hundred warriors. Maybe more. I thought they were Trojans.’

Priam the king pushed through the crowd. ‘What in Hades is happening here?’ he asked Helikaon, his breath stinking of un-watered wine, his legs unsteady.

‘Betrayal,’ said Helikaon. ‘Agathon’s Thrakians have been ordered to kill every man in the palace. And there are two hundred Mykene warriors marching towards us as we speak.’

Priam rubbed at his eyes and sucked in a great breath. ‘This is madness,’ he said. ‘One regiment of Thrakians? As soon as word reaches the other garrisons they will come in their thousands. And it is after dark. The Great Gates will be closed. No Mykene will be allowed to enter.’

‘You are wrong, sire,’ said Helikaon. ‘The soldiers on the Scaean Gate have been ordered to let them in, and then close the gate behind them. No other troops will be allowed to enter. The Eagles here are the only loyal men left in the Upper City. We are on our own.’

Priam said nothing for a moment, then swung to a nearby Eagle. ‘Fetch me my armour,’ he ordered. Turning back to Helikaon he said, ‘We’ll hold them. By the gods we’ll teach them the price to be paid for treachery.’

‘You’ll not hold these palace walls for long,’ said Argurios. ‘They are not high enough, and you don’t have the men. Even now they will be searching for ladders, carts, timber . .. anything to allow them to scale the ramparts.’

‘Do I know you?’ retorted Priam, squinting in the lantern light.

‘I am Argurios, Priam King.’

‘The Argurios?’

‘Even so.’

‘And you are fighting for me?’

‘It appears that I am.’

The drunken king suddenly laughed, but there was no humour in the sound. ‘My Hektor has been taken from me. His brother wants me dead, and my city is under attack. Now a Mykene hero has come to aid me.’ His face hardened. ‘Oh, how the gods favour me!’

‘I share your feelings,’ said Argurios. ‘It was no dream of mine to fight for Troy. However, we can talk of capricious gods at another time. Now we need to arm every one of your guests, with whatever weapons are inside the palace. We will need bowmen on the palace balcony covering this courtyard. Even so the odds will be long indeed.’

Priam gave a cold smile. ‘Odds fit for a hero, Argurios. Where is that damned armour?’ Priam turned away, and staggered off in search of his weapons.

On the walls above a few Eagles began loosing shafts down into the Thrakian ranks.

‘We cannot hold the walls for long,’ repeated Argurios, this time to Helikaon.

‘They will come back with ladders and ropes and grappling hooks. They will swarm over like ants.’

‘I know.’ Helikaon swung to Polydorus. ‘You go inside. Get all the older counsellors and servants up into the queen’s apartments, away from the fighting.

Then barricade all unnecessary entrances. Make sure all windows are shuttered and barred. If you can find tools have them nailed shut.’

The officer he had struck earlier was now on his feet, but still groggy.

Helikaon approached him. ‘How many men are at the outside gate to the women’s quarters?’ he asked.

‘No-one is stationed there,’ said the officer, rubbing his jaw. ‘The gates are locked. There is no way through.’

‘Then the enemy will scale the walls unopposed!’ stormed Helikaon. ‘Argurios, you stay here and command the defence. You!’ he said to Aranes. ‘Gather twenty good swordsmen and follow me! ‘

Outside her apartments, deep in the palace, Andromache looked into Kassandra’s grey eyes, seeing the terror there. ‘Who is coming?’ she asked softly.

Kassandra blinked. ‘Swords and daggers and spears.’ She gazed around her, eyes wide. ‘Blood on the walls. Blood… everywhere. Please take the bow.’

The child had begun to tremble. Andromache stepped forward, lifting the weapon from her hand. Kassandra offered her the quiver, with its twenty black-shafted arrows. Andromache swung it over her shoulder. ‘There now! I have the bow. Be calm, little one. No-one is going to hurt you.’

‘No,’ agreed Kassandra, with a sigh. ‘No-one is going to hurt me.’

Holding out her free arm Andromache took Kassandra by the hand. ‘Let us go down and listen to the priestess. She is said to be very dull. Then later you and I will sit in the starlight and we will talk.’

‘Helikaon is coming for you,’ said Kassandra, as they walked hand in hand along the wide corridor towards the gathering hall of the women’s quarters.

‘Why would he be doing that?’ asked Andromache.

‘Because he loves you,’ answered the child. ‘You knew that, didn’t you?’

Andromache sighed. ‘Helikaon is in Dardania.’

Kassandra shook her head. ‘He was on a golden horse, riding through the streets.

He is frightened for you. He knows that blood is coming. The fat one told him.’

Suddenly the child began to cry. Andromache laid the bow on a couch, set by the corridor wall, and sat down, drawing Kassandra to her. Hugging the girl and kissing her dark hair she tried to calm her. She had heard many stories of the fey child, and knew there was nothing she could say to pierce the veils of illusion. So she waited for the tears to pass, and held her close.

They sat there for some time. ‘I don’t want to see so much,’ said Kassandra, drawing away, and sitting with her back to the wall. ‘I hate it. I can’t tell sometimes what is now and what was then.’’

‘This is now,’ said Andromache. ‘You and I sitting here.’

‘You and I,’ repeated Kassandra. She glanced across the corridor. ‘Look there.

What do you see?’

Andromache followed the line of her pointing finger. ‘I see a tapestry hanging from the wall. Very pretty embroidery.’

‘No! In front of the tapestry.’

‘The corridor?’

Kassandra’s shoulders sagged. Andromache saw her smile at nothing, and give a little wave. ‘What is it that you see?’ she asked.

‘It doesn’t matter. The dolphins told me the sea is changing. They are frightened. I am frightened too. Everything is changing, Andromache.’

‘Why did you say that Helikaon loves me? Is it something he said?’

Kassandra gave a shy smile. ‘I love Helikaon. I used to watch him sleeping.

Helikaon is in the now. He is the Lord of the Silver Bow.’

‘You think Helikaon is Apollo?’

‘No, silly! Helikaon is Helikaon.’

Andromache smiled at the child. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘No-one does. Well, no-one who feels the rain, or the sun’s heat.’

‘Isn’t that everyone?’

‘We must be going! Keep your bow ready. We must rescue Laodike. We must bring her to the shield bearer.’

Andromache could think of no more to say to this strange child, so they walked together in silence through to the Hall of Gathering.

A small crowd of some twenty women were already there, dressed in flowing gowns, and bedecked in jewellery of gold and silver. Servants moved among them, bearing trays of golden cups brimming with wine. Andromache saw Laodike and waved. By the great double doors stood a tall, silver-haired woman, carrying a small ceremonial helmet of bright gold. ‘That is the priestess,’ whispered Kassandra.