The Gates of Troy by Glyn Iliffe

Author:Glyn Iliffe
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780230740044
Publisher: Pan Macmillan
Published: 2009-07-31T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

ACHILLES DISCOVERED

Odysseus, Eperitus and Nestor were the only members of the council who believed Calchas. Nevertheless, Agamemnon agreed to let them go to the island of Scyros in search of Achilles, and just before first light the following morning the three men were standing in the stern of Odysseus’s ship waiting for the crew to fit their oars into the freshly oiled leather loops. Then, as the anchor stone was hauled aboard, Eperitus was surprised to see Great Ajax come running out of the tree line behind the Ithacan camp, waving his muscle-bound arms and shouting that he was coming with them to Scyros. He and Achilles were cousins, he explained as they strained to haul his bulk onto the listing galley, and as they had never met he was prepared to test the verity of Calchas’s second sight for the chance of meeting the son of his uncle Peleus.

Once aboard, the king of Salamis was surprised to see three caskets in the prow, overflowing with brightly coloured dresses, necklaces, headdresses, mirrors, sashes, bracelets and a host of other trinkets that would please the vainest of women.

‘What’s all this, Odysseus?’ he rumbled, picking out a sky-blue chiton and holding it across his armoured chest. ‘Hoping to charm Achilles out of hiding?’

Nestor, who had noted the caskets in silence as he had boarded earlier, now followed Ajax to the prow and began casually picking through the various items of bronze and silver, studying each one briefly then replacing it and choosing another.

‘I’m interested, too,’ he said. ‘Is it some sort of gift? And if it is, what would a great warrior want with chests full of feminine baubles – unless you’re intending to offend him?’

The thirty crew members ceased their chattering and turned towards Odysseus. Eperitus was also keen to know why the Ithacan king had sent his men out the night before to barter for clothing and jewellery from the numerous prostitutes in the camp.

‘It is a gift, but not for Achilles,’ Odysseus replied, nonchalantly looking up at the sail with its dolphin motif as it caught the westerly wind. ‘The caskets are for Lycomedes’s daughters, of which he has many.’

‘Renowned for their beauty, or so I’ve heard,’ Nestor commented, stroking his grey beard. ‘But unless you’re hoping to recruit them to the army, I don’t see the point . . .’

‘If Achilles is hiding on Scyros, I’ve a feeling Lycomedes won’t tell us where he is, no matter what gifts we bring him. But maybe his daughters will. They’re sure to know everything that’s going on in the palace, and with a little persuasion,’ he added, picking up a pair of earrings from the pile and dangling them by his ears, ‘they’ll take us straight to him. Now, how about a bit of cold breakfast?’

Scyros lay less than a day’s voyage away on the other side of Euboea, and by sunset they were cruising into a wide bay crammed with fishing vessels and a few larger ships. Eperitus was leaning against the bow and looking up at the high, craggy hill that dominated the harbour.

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