Stella Gemmell - Fall of Kings

“But what of Troy, Sister?”

“Troy will be a place of legend. Only the names of its heroes will live on.”

“Did they all die?”

But Kassandra had paused, listening to her voices. “Astyanax and Dex,” she asked suddenly. “Are they safe?”

“Yes, they are safe. Was Melite’s prophecy true, Sister? Is Astyanax the Eagle Child?”

Kassandra smiled then. Her manner became less anxious, and her voice was that of a normal young woman, the passion and urgency gone. “Prophecies are slippery things,” she told Andromache, patting her hand. “Like oiled snakes. Priam and Hekabe searched for many years for the meaning of Melite’s words. Finally they found a soothsayer who interpreted them to their liking. He told them the prophecy meant that a king’s son born to the Shield of Thunder—you—would never be defeated in battle and that his city would be eternal.”

“But you do not believe that?” Andromache asked. “Is Astyanax not the Eagle Child? Priam believed he would found a dynasty.”

Kassandra laughed, and the sound was bright and merry and echoed off the roof and walls of the temple. For a moment the dust motes seemed to dance in the shafts of light.

“Like his father Hektor, Astyanax will have no sons,” she said, smiling at the paradox. “But because of him a dynasty will be founded, and it will last a thousand years. It is true, Andromache. I have seen it set in the stones of the future.”

“But that is not the prophecy of Melite.”

“No, it is the prophecy of Kassandra.”

A shudder ran through the temple as another small earthquake hit, and a corner of the temple roof gave way, collapsing to the floor, sending a new cloud of dust boiling around the chamber.

“You must go now,” Kassandra told her. They looked at each other calmly. Andromache felt the turmoil in her heart cease, and acceptance took its place. She nodded, then embraced her sister for the last time. But Kassandra suddenly pulled away from her, her eyes wild again.

“Go now!” she shouted, flailing her arms. “Agamemnon is coming! You must go now!” She pushed urgently at Andromache until her sister stood up.

“Agamemnon?”

“He is coming to rescue me,” Iphigenia explained. “Kassandra tells me he will be here before noon, with a fleet. I will return with him to Mykene.”

Andromache hesitated no more but ran to the door, pausing for a last wave to Kassandra. But the girl had turned away and was speaking to her unseen friends again. Andromache picked up her skirts and raced from the temple toward the cliff path.

On the beach Helikaon watched as Andromache strode away up the path toward the temple. Her back was straight, and her hips swayed delightfully under the flame-colored dress.

Odysseus observed him, grinning. “You are a fortunate man, Helikaon.”

“I have always been fortunate in my friends, Odysseus. You taught me to face my fears and conquer them. Andromache taught me that life can be savored only if you look to the future and leave vengeance to the gods.”

“A good woman and a fine philosophy,” Odysseus agreed. “And if Agamemnon were to walk up this beach now?”

“I would kill him in a heartbeat,” Helikaon admitted with a grin. “But I will no longer seek out revenge and let it rule my life.”

“You are sailing to the Seven Hills for the winter?”

Helikaon nodded. “The Trojan fleet has gone ahead of us. With all the extra men in the settlement, there will be a great deal to do.”

“Many men and not enough women,” Odysseus observed. “There will certainly be work for you to do, arbitrating disputes and settling grievances. Try to do it without severing their heads from their bodies.”

Helikaon laughed, and the feeling of urgency in his chest eased.

Then he saw Kalliades and Skorpios walking toward them, and his heart sank. He had tried to persuade the two warriors to stay on the ship to the Seven Hills, but he could guess what they had come to ask.

“Kalliades!” Odysseus cried. “It is good to see you! Where is our friend Banokles?”

“He fell at Troy,” Kalliades told him.

“Then I wager he took a good few of the enemy with him.”

“Banokles never did things by halves. He was a brave man and a fine comrade. He often spoke of the Hall of Heroes. I’m sure he is supping there now with Hektor and Achilles and telling them what a fine warrior he is.”

The other men smiled. Then Kalliades told Odysseus, “This is Skorpios of the Trojan Horse. We both wish to go to Ithaka. Will you grant me passage one last time, Odysseus?”

“Aye, lad, with pleasure. And you can tell me tales of the fall of Troy to pay your way.”

The tall warrior unstrapped his sword belt and held it out to Helikaon.

“I owe you my life, lord, and I owe it to Argurios, too. Take the sword of Argurios with you. It belongs to the people of Troy, not one wandering Mykene.”

Helikaon received it silently. He slid the sword out of the scabbard and gazed at it with awe. “It is a wondrous gift. But will you not need it, my friend?”

“I do not yet know the shape of my future, Golden One, but I know I will not be carving it out with a sword.”

They sat on the black sand then. Kalliades spoke of the last days of Troy, and Helikaon told Odysseus of the escape from the city. The sun was rising fast toward noon when Helikaon spotted the flame of Andromache’s dress on the cliff path. She appeared to be hurrying, though she was treading with care on the treacherous slope. There was no sign of Kassandra.

He stood and strode over to meet her. As he did so, he saw dozens of rats running from their holes in the base of the cliff and scurrying toward the sea.

“Where is Kassandra?” he asked, taking Andromache’s hand.

“She will not come. She is dying.”

As Helikaon frowned and moved toward the path, Andromache stopped him. “She wants to die here. She says it is her fate. She will not come, and it would not be right to make her.”

“Then I will go and say goodbye to her.”

She grabbed his arm. “She says Agamemnon is coming with a fleet. He will be here by noon. I know you do not believe her predictions. It is her destiny never to be believed. But the First Priestess confirms her brother is coming for her. We must leave, my love, as fast as we can.” There was an edge of panic in her voice.

He looked up the cliff path but turned back to her, the woman he loved above all others. “As always, I will take your advice. Come.”

As they walked back to the ship, Helikaon shouted to his crew to get ready. He quickly told Odysseus the news, and without a parting word the Ithakan king hurried to the Bloodhawk. Helikaon felt something brush against his foot and looked down. There were more rats heading for the ships, dozens of them, running over his feet and climbing the ship’s trailing ropes.

He heard cries as the crew spotted them, and he looked back up the beach. The black sand now was swarming with thousands of the creatures. And they all were heading for the two ships.

There were shouts and curses from the crew of the Xanthos as the rodents started scrambling on board. Men were leaping about, skewering rats on their swords, but more and more were climbing onto the ship all the time.

“Don’t try to kill them all!” Helikaon bellowed. “Get the ship off the beach!”

He handed Andromache quickly up the ladder. He saw that her face was pale with anxiety for her boys as she stepped onto the rat-infested ship. Then, trying to ignore the creatures running over his feet and biting his legs, Helikaon put his shoulder to the hull with others from his crew. He saw crewmen running from the Bloodhawk to help move the Xanthos. Slowly the great bireme began to shift. Then, with a rasp of wood on sand, she moved into the sea and floated free, surrounded by swimming rats.