David Gemmell - Shield of Thunder

“I thank you for coming tonight,” he told his guests. “Many here have been friends of Troy for longer than my life. Others may become friends. That is my hope. We all of us here have been men of war. Sometimes it has been forced upon us. Sometimes we have sallied out to engage in it in pursuit of glory or riches. War is a noble pursuit and ofttimes necessary to right wrongs against our houses or to deal a death blow to those who would wish the same upon us. Tonight, however, we dine as friends and mourn the passing of beauty. Eat and drink, my friends, and enjoy the entertainments my sons have organized. We have dancers from Kretos, jugglers from Miletos, singers and musicians. This night should be one of joy, in thanks for a life that meant much to me.” Priam clapped his hands, and music began. Servants rushed forward, placing golden platters brimming with food on the table.

Odysseus ate sparingly, and once the meal was over and the entertainments had begun, he stood from the table and made his way toward the door. He was surprised to hear Priam call out, “Leaving us so soon, king of Ithaka? No words of commiseration?” As the king spoke, the music died away. Odysseus turned slowly into the silence.

“What would you have me say, Priam King? That I am sorry for your loss? I am sorry for any man who loses one he loves. But I’ll offer no honeyed words to you. Honor and custom dictated I be here tonight. Honor and custom dictate I will attend the games tomorrow. Then I will sail from here without a backward glance.”

“You will sail from here as an enemy of Troy!” Priam thundered. “As a hirer of assassins and an oath breaker. And when we meet thereafter, be sure to have a weapon in your hand.”

“I will indeed,” Odysseus replied angrily. “And it will be Akilina and not some ruined twig your lickspittle judges place before me. I had no desire for a war with Troy. You remember that, Priam. You remember that when your sons die and your influence shrivels. You remember that when the flames consume your palace.”

“I feel my bones trembling.” Priam sneered. “Little Ithaka against the might of Troy. You have a weapon to throw down my walls? You have an army to defeat the Trojan Horse? No, you do not! Not you, nor a hundred like you gathered together, would make more than a flea bite on the body of Troy. A hundred thousand men could not take this city. You have a hundred thousand, little king?”

In that moment Odysseus realized Priam had engineered this clash in order to make exactly this point to the assembled kings. He stood silently for a moment, then laughed. “I want you to remember that boast, too, Priam,” he said. “I want all the men here to repeat it across the Great Green. Not I, nor a hundred like me gathered together, would make more than a flea bite on the body of Troy. Let the valleys echo to that boast. Let the mountains ring with it. Let the seas whisper it across the beaches of the world.” With that, he swung away and strode through the doors.

Hearing someone follow him, he glanced around and saw Helikaon. Odysseus felt a great sinking of the spirit. “Make your threat swiftly,” he said. “I am in no mood to tarry.”

“I have no threat, Odysseus,” Helikaon said sadly. “I did not desire any of this.”

“A consideration best remembered before you ran to Priam,” the Ugly King replied. “Did our friendship mean so little to you that you could not wait to hear what I might have to say before having me declared a rogue and an outcast?” Caught between sorrow and rage, he swung away from the young man, but Helikaon moved swiftly, taking hold of his arm.

“It was not as you believe!” he cried. “No man has a greater call on my affection than you, Odysseus. I have no recollection of Priam coming to me. I was delirious, poison in my blood. I scarce recall any conversation then. I drifted in and out of dreams, dreams of death and despair.”

Odysseus felt the rage seep out of him. His shoulders sagged, and a terrible weariness settled on him. “Best ask me now what you need to know,” he said.

“Did Karpophorus lie? Tell me that he did, and we can put all this right.”

Odysseus saw the need in Helikaon for that lie to be true. It shone in his eyes. “It cannot be put right now, Golden One. The assassin did not lie. I paid him a sheep’s weight in silver to kill Anchises.”

Helikaon stood silently, staring at him, his expression showing his disbelief. “I don’t understand. Why would you do it? You had nothing to gain. My father loathed me, but he had no enmity toward you. Tell me and put an end to the anguish.”

Odysseus sighed. “I fear it will only bring a different form of anguish, and I would willingly have surrendered ten years of my life rather than have you discover the truth. Even now I hesitate to tell you.”

“I need to know, Odysseus.” Helikaon looked at him closely. “Though even as I say it, I think I can guess the answer.”

Odysseus nodded. “On that last voyage, when we sailed to Dardania, we had three passengers: two merchants and a traveler. The traveler was Karpophorus. I recognized him, and I guessed the purpose of his trip. We spoke one night, away from the crew. I made it clear to him that I knew his target, and I made him an offer. He had no choice but to accept, for to refuse would have resulted in his death there and then by my own hand.”

“And I was his target?”

“Yes. Anchises had already dispossessed you and declared you illegitimate. He had nominated Diomedes as his heir. But he wanted to be sure you would not cause him problems.” Odysseus sighed. “He wanted you dead. I knew this already because he had offered me wealth to kill you while you sailed with me. I believed, wrongly, that when he saw the man you had become, he would be filled with pride, as I was. When I realized he had hired Karpophorus, I knew he would stop at nothing to see you slain. So I paid Karpophorus to kill him. And even now I don’t regret it.”

Helikaon walked away a few steps and stood with his back to Odysseus. “Why did you not tell me before this?” he asked. “I would have understood.”

“Yes, you would. But despite everything you still admired Anchises. I saw no reason to hack at his memory. Now I wish I had.”

“I need to walk,” Helikaon said, swinging back to face him. “Let us get away from this place, stroll down to the beach, and feel the sea air on our faces.”

“No, Helikaon. We cannot walk together,” Odysseus said, sadness in his voice. “My bodyguards are waiting beyond the gates. It is possible Priam will have more assassins out to waylay me. As for you, you already know that Mykene killers are seeking you. There will be no more carefree walks for either of us.” For a few moments there was silence between them. Then Odysseus spoke again. “The great war is coming, and we are to be enemies, you and I. That saddens me more than words can convey.”

“And you will side with Agamemnon? He will drench the world in blood.”

Odysseus shrugged. “This is not of my making, Helikaon. I did not declare myself an enemy of Troy. And even if I wished it, there is nowhere to run and hide. Priam has sought now to shame me three times. I am a king, and kings do not reign long if they let other kings piss on their shoes. My ships will not attack Dardanian vessels, and I will have no part in any invasion of your lands. But I will bring war to Troy, and I will see Priam fall.”

“And I will fight alongside Priam and Hektor,” Helikaon said.

“The only honorable course,” Odysseus agreed. “But get yourself strong again, boy. You are all skin and bone.”

“What of the Seven Hills?” Helikaon asked. “We built the settlement together, and there are Dardanians and Ithakans working there side by side.”