My Name Was Never Frankenstein by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Indiana University Press
Published: 2018-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Priam’s deal made more sense once Sinon walked into the city. The columns he’d seen from the beach were the tip of the imitation iceberg. The guards in the king’s retinue had tried to Greekify their helmets by sewing on pieces of boar tusk, though the tusky chunks flapped around like hangnails. Windowsill pottery appeared to have been rubbed with ash to give it that distinctive Greek coloration. In the chariot, Priam kept throwing his arm around Sinon as if to say, Look at my Greek friend!

Could Odysseus have known how much their siege had warped the Trojans? Sinon dismissed the thought. This was a dash of luck, that was all, and it could still be undone. Even now, Cassandra was trying to talk Priam out of his decision, though she didn’t seem to be trying real hard. “You should really think this through,” she said halfheartedly from the back of the chariot, apparently laying the groundwork for one hell of an I told you so.

Priam ignored her. “Check out the frescoes,” he told Sinon. On a dirty wall was a crude illustration of a hugely endowed Priam strangling Odysseus. That’s what the caption said, anyway. To Sinon’s eyes, it looked like a watercolor painted by blind children in the rain.

“Admit it,” Sinon forced himself to say. “You kidnapped a Greek artist to paint that, didn’t you?” Priam shook his head shyly. Sinon took in all the rickety columns and tombstone pottery. “It’s like I’ve died and gone to Athens!”

“Zeus,” muttered Cassandra. Sinon’s stomach was filled with plum pits.

Their chariot pulled into the plaza at the center of the city, followed by the horse, rumbling over the rutted streets, only some of the groans coming from the wooden joints. “Fucker’s heavy!” complained one of the guards pushing the chassis, and the guy next to him nodded sagely. “Quality workmanship.”

That night was a hot time in Old Troy. Not only had they repulsed Odysseus—he’d admitted it himself! How awesome was that!—they’d snagged an all-time piece of war booty. “Usually you have to go overseas to do your pillaging,” Priam drolled to the noblemen who lined up to congratulate him. “How considerate of Odysseus to save us a trip.”

The night was warm with a steady salt breeze. The plaza was alive with soldiers and poets and children, everyone drinking wine and making up songs about what pussies the Greeks were. At least twice an hour someone climbed up on the horse and made wild rodeo gestures, thinking he was the first one to come up with such a bold and hilarious idea.

On a balcony overlooking the plaza, Sinon and Cassandra silently shared a jug of wine. He cleared his throat several times before asking her, “How come you didn’t tell me your father was the king?”

She gave him a dark look. “You are not in a position to lecture me about secrets.” Then she lobbed the jug at the horse. It exploded against the neck, leaving a dark trail like a wound. A few Trojans backed away, shaking glass out of their hair.

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