The Armour of Achilles by Glyn Iliffe

Author:Glyn Iliffe [Iliffe, Glyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781447205098
Publisher: Pan Books

Chapter Twenty-Five

TO SAVE A KING

Agamemnon stood in his golden chariot, his breastplate gleaming in the bright morning sunshine. The red plume of his helmet and his red cloak fluttered in the north wind as he stared across the plain at the thick ranks of Trojan soldiery, positioned just beyond the range of the Greek archers. The king’s round shield hung on his back and in his hand he carried two tall spears, for today he intended to lead the army into battle himself. Despite the defeat of the day before, today the Greeks would have the upper hand: the spy Odysseus and Diomedes had captured had revealed the weaknesses in Hector’s battle plans, and Agamemnon planned to exploit them to the full.

Eperitus watched the King of Men with more than his usual contempt. His failings as a leader, both on and off the battlefield, had made themselves disastrously obvious in recent days, and the thought that he would be leading the attack did not fill the Ithacan captain with confidence. Fortunately, there were many much more capable men in the Greek army and as long as they still fought there was a hope the Greeks could save their ships and drive the Trojans back inside the walls of Troy. But it was only a hope: any victory against Hector and his allies would be hard won without Achilles; and as company after company of Greek spearmen marched out on to the plain, the Myrmidons and their prince were already raising the masts and cross-spars in their galleys and stowing their goods and provisions for the long journey home.

The Ithacans stood at the centre of the line, with the Mycenaeans to their left and the Argives under Diomedes to their right, their individual banners trailing in the wind above them. Odysseus was shielding his eyes against the sun as he observed the motionless files of enemy spearmen, waiting patiently for the Greeks to advance. His presence gave the battered Ithacans a sense of reassurance, but Eperitus could tell the king was not happy.

‘What is it?’ he asked, quietly.

‘Dolon said the regiments at the centre had taken the most casualties and were the weakest in the whole Trojan army,’ Odysseus said. ‘Your eyes are better than anybody’s, Eperitus: how do they look to you?’

‘Quiet. That’s as bad a sign as any in fighting men.’

‘Then maybe Dolon was right: one determined attack and the centre of the Trojan line will break. And yet . . .’ Odysseus added as the last of the Greeks crossed the causeways and the gates closed behind them with a thud, ‘and yet Hector’s always proved a good commander. Surely he wouldn’t put his weakest units at the centre of the line?’

‘He has to make a mistake some time, my lord,’ said Arceisius, who was standing behind Eperitus. ‘And now he doesn’t have Palamedes to feed him our plans, perhaps we’re going to see he’s human after all.’

‘Don’t underestimate him,’ Eperitus replied, glancing over his shoulder at his former squire.

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