David Gemmell - Shield of Thunder

Halysia saw movement in the distance, and a line of brightly armored horsemen appeared there. The Trojan Horse had arrived! The Mykene saw them, too, and began to form a defensive shield wall.

Then someone shouted from the battlements. “The queen is escaping! Kill her!”

There were only a few horsemen beyond the gates, but they immediately kicked their horses into a run.

Halysia heeled the black stallion, and he took off again, racing past the rear of the Mykene forces and straight for the defile. Glancing around, she saw four Mykene riders falling back. The stallion was pounding now at full gallop, and his speed was colossal. Halysia had ridden many horses in her life, but none had had the strength and speed of this huge beast.

She felt the wind in her hair and allowed her heart to lift. Helikaon would sink the enemy fleet, and the Trojan Horse would slaughter the enemy soldiers left on land. All she needed to do was outrun the Mykene riders and she would be safe.

The stallion galloped on, and she saw the defile widen just before the bridge. Only, now there was no bridge, merely a smoking ruin. Its remains hung blackened and charred, dangling from the edge of the chasm. There was no way out.

A group of Mykene soldiers came running out of the darkness beside the defile, sprinting toward her, shining blades in their hands. Swinging her mount, Halysia rode back along the defile, then turned again. The Mykene horsemen were close now, and she heard their shouts of triumph.

“Whatever happens, little Dex, we will be together,” she promised. Then she slapped the stallion’s rump. Startled, he set off down the defile toward the chasm. His speed increased as he thundered on. Halysia held his mane in a death grip. She saw soldiers in a blur in the corner of her eye. She felt a blow in her side, but the spear point ripped through her flesh and did not bring her down. Pain seared through her. Ignoring it, she focused on the horse moving beneath her, the small warm body huddled against her, and the chasm yawning just ahead.

Could even this great horse make such a jump? Halysia did not know. What she did know was that the horse might balk at the edge and throw her and her son to the rocks below.

As they closed toward the chasm, she dug her heels into the horse’s side for the last time and screamed her tribal yell, the sound high-pitched and ululating. The horse bunched his great muscles and leaped.

Time came to an end. The only sound was the beating of her heart. There was stillness all around. She could not feel the horse’s back. She could not feel the boy at her breast. She wondered if her life had ended there and the gods were carrying her away. She even had time to glance down at the jagged black rocks so far below.

Then the stallion’s hooves hit the ground on the other side of the chasm. The horse stumbled a moment, his rear hooves scrabbling on the lip of the cliff. Then they were over and running free.

Halysia halted the stallion and looked back at the Mykene. Not one of them had had the nerve to follow her, and they screamed insults at her. Then they rode back along the defile. Weariness flowed over her.

“Have the bad men gone, Mama?” Dex asked.

“Yes, they have gone, little squirrel.” Halysia lifted her leg and jumped down from the horse. She cried out as the arrow in her thigh twisted, ripping her flesh. Sitting down on a rock, she released the boy. He did not move away but clung to her. Halysia kissed his brow.

“You are my son, little Dex. And I am so proud of you. Soon your father will be home, and he will be proud of you, too. We will sit here quietly and wait for him.” The child looked up at her and smiled. Such a sweet smile, she thought, like sunshine spearing through cloud.

The left side of her tunic was drenched with blood from the spear wound. She thought to stem the bleeding with her cloak. But then the cloth slipped from her fingers. It seemed to her that the night was growing brighter. Someone was close by. Halysia turned her head with a great effort. The light was almost blinding now. A small golden-haired figure came into sight. Halysia squinted against the brightness and then cried out with joy. It was Diomedes, her son. He was smiling at her and holding out his arms.

Tears filled Halysia’s eyes. Both of her sons were with her now, and the world was in harmony again. In that one blissful moment, as the light faded, Halysia realized she had never been happier.

White long-haired goats were grazing on the cliffs beneath the high walls of the palace called King’s Joy. The animals darted away as Kassandra made her way to the cliff top, and she paused to watch them. So sure-footed, she thought as they leaped from rock to rock. No fear of heights or the sharp rocks so far below. Was it confidence or stupidity, she wondered, or a mixture of both?

Kassandra moved past them, climbing to the highest point above the shore. Hitching up her ankle-length tunic of glistening white, she sat upon a rock and gazed out to sea. There were no ships in sight, and only five vessels were drawn up on the once-busy beaches below. A score of small fishing boats were out in the bay, casting their nets.

Up here, high above the world, all seemed peaceful and serene. Kassandra glanced toward the south. Beyond the line of the Ida mountains armies were moving, preparing for war and death, rape and murder. A brief and ghastly vision of fire and horror swept into her mind, but she ruthlessly suppressed it. Turning her gaze toward the north, she saw again the images of the previous night’s dream, the fortress of Dardanos engulfed in flames.

Thraki was lost, and soon the Mykene would be crossing the straits into Dardania. From the north and south the enemy would come, their armies closing like a great fist around the golden city.

Then the peaceful beaches below would play host to a fleet of ships so large that not a speck of sand would be seen between their hulls. Kassandra shivered in the bright sunshine.

A moment of brilliant doubt touched her then. All these visions might not be true.

Slowly she pushed herself to her feet and edged her way to stand above the awesome drop. To test the truth of them, all she had to do was take a single step forward. If she fell to her death on the jagged rocks, then they were false, for there would be no winter journey to Thera, no flight into the midday sky, no roaring thunder and the end of worlds. Troy might survive, and Hektor might live to be a great king.

Just one step…

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and stepped forward.

Rough hands grabbed her, hauling her back from the precipice.

“What are you doing?” asked a young shepherd boy, holding tight to her arms.

Kassandra did not answer him.

The journey to Thera would be long—and full of perils.