Cassandra (39 page)

`We have come to your parley,' he said. `I am Priam, King of holy Ilium. Who will speak to us?'

A stout black-bearded man and a mountain of muscle climbed down out of their chariots and walked towards the king.

`I am Menelaus, King of Sparta, and this is my brother Agamemnon, King of Mycenae,' said the black-bearded one.

`Challenge,' called Pariki, emerging from the sons of Priam and waving two bronzed spears. `I challenge you to single combat, Cuckold Prince! I stole your wife, Menelaus, she came with me willingly, as amorous as a doe at rutting season. I stole her because the goddess promised her to me; and for the sake of Hesione, Princess of Troy, abducted by Telamon.' His voice was failing as he watched Menelaus, his beard splitting in a mirthless grin, reach for and draw a long sword.

`Come then, little princeling of a dishonoured city,' hissed Menelaus. `Come and be spitted for your theft!'

He lunged, and Pariki ducked away, hiding himself among the ranks. This was too much for Hector.

`Come forth doll, painted thing, pretty boy!' he bellowed to his brother. `Pariki, City Destroyer, I wish you had never been born! You come from a courageous family, why are you the only coward? Why are your limbs loose with fear - why should you escape the revenge of the one you have wronged? You wanted a single combat - here it is.'

`You are tireless and brave,' quavered Pariki's voice, `indomitable Hector! But the goddess who gave me deathless beauty did not think I would need courage. However, if I must fight, I must.

`Clear a space between the armies; these are the terms. If I fall, all my goods will go to Menelaus; if he falls, all his to me'

`Are these terms acceptable, my Lords?' asked Priam.

`Listen to me,' said Menelaus to his army. `We cannot recover Elene, but Trojan gold is not to be despised. Either Pariki or I must die - we are fated. Therefore, bring a black ewe from Troy and I will send to the ships for a white ram. We will sacrifice to the gods for favour, then we will fight, and no one must intervene. Lord Priam will hold the oaths; old men consider carefully, and think of the future as well as the past.'

Hector sent an Amazon riding back to Troy for a black ewe, and an Argive rode to the ships for a ram. Meanwhile the armies sat down and looked at each other.

Thus I first saw the elegant Odysseus, who had stripped off his armour and was walking among the ranks, talking to the soldiers, who seemed less imposing now that I could see their faces. They were merely men, some better looking than others, nursing helmets in their laps. Some were chewing what I judged to be dried meat; one was drinking water from a flask.

The Amazon and the Argive brought the sacrifices, and both kings rose and washed their hands in wine. Then the beasts were killed - a barbaric custom - and wine and blood was spilled upon the baked earth.

We all prayed with King Priam, `Witness our oath, most high and holy, Lord of Light and of the silver bow, Apollo; let us all be cursed if we break this oath.'

Then Priam drew back, wiping a hand over his brow. `I return to the city. I cannot look on this contest.' His chariot was turned and Antenor, his driver, whistled to the horses.

Hector rose to meet with Odysseus and they paced out the ground, walking side by side. It struck me that they might have been friends in another place or time. They agreed amicably on the number of paces to be cleared, and the watching armies drew apart to allow the combatants space. `Let there be peace,' I heard Polites praying under his breath, and the whisper of the same prayer wafted over both armies. `Let the false one die and rot and let there be peace between us.'

They were arming Pariki in the best we could provide; Lycaon's breastplate and greaves, a helmet with a horse-hair crest which belonged to Polites. Finally he took up his own sword, with the hilt studded with silver, and a Trojan spear with a bronze head.

Menelaus was also equipped in full armour. Both of them clanked as they moved, with a creaking of leather straps; neither face could be seen. The mask on Pariki's helmet was of a snarling panther while Menelaus' helmet was undecorated, with no crevice where a spear could lodge; he had a featureless metal face, like the bronze giant made by Hephaestus.

They drew lots. Menelaus was to cast the first spear.

He flung it. Pariki dodged, so that it struck the round shield, glanced off and tore his tunic but did not touch his skin. Menelaus drew his sword and brought it down on Pariki's helmet. The crowd hissed. The sword broke into half a dozen pieces.

I saw a glitter, then a shadow; I focused my inner eyes and saw a golden lady in front of Pariki, her slender arms around his neck; the sword had broken on the misty billows of her hair. Ishtar/Aphrodite was protecting her darling. I heard him chuckle, and he brushed off fragments of sword.

Menelaus swore by Zeus and hurled himself at Pariki, grabbing him by the throat to strangle him. When this did not work he seized the chin strap and swung Pariki off his feet, spinning him around so that he began to choke.

The golden lady reached up with slim fingers and snapped the strap. Menelaus was left holding the helmet and Pariki was slung into the Trojan ranks.

Menelaus dived after him, kicking up dust, roaring like a wounded lion, `Where is he? Where is the misbegotten son of Troy?'

He was gone. I had seen the Goddess of Love lift my trouble-making brother in her arms and whisk him away towards Troy in a rosy cloud, attended by doves.

I could not tell anyone and this was probably lucky, because Hector would have been utterly disgusted.

Menelaus prowled though the ranks of Trojans, who were well trained and puzzled enough not to laugh; but Prince Pariki was not to be found and the Achaeans must have known enough about how well Pariki was liked to feel sure that we were not hiding him out of love. Finally, tiring of this and feeling faintly ridiculous, Menelaus left our ranks and announced that he had won.

Hector rose to agree that he had indeed driven his opponent from the field, when there was a lightning flash out of a clear sky. While everyone was rubbing their eyes, I saw a bright woman in a glittering helmet and breastplate breathe something into Pandarus' ear, and before I could do anything - indeed I could not speak, but I would have tried - the god-beguiled fool grinned, bent his bow and shot Menelaus in the belly.

There was a howl and everyone leapt to their feet. Menelaus was standing, shocked, with blood flowing out through the joints of his armour and running down his war-skirt to his feet. His bare legs were patterned with blood, little rivulets of bright red against the olive skin.

I fought off the vision of Athene diverting the arrow, standing somehow at Pandarus' back and in front of his target simultaneously. Goddesses can do that. I backed with the army as Agamemnon knelt by his brother and cried aloud that if he died Troy would be destroyed to the last man, even to the last baby in the womb.

I did not think that Menelaus was going to die - if he had been badly injured he would not still have been standing on his feet, however bloodstained - but I was fairly sure that I, and my brothers, and the Trojan army with us, were now in peril.

We had covered almost a hundred paces when we heard the cry, `Attack!' and we turned to fight.

I had a bow and my healer's knife and I was determined to die with Hector, so I kept close to him as he walked to the chariots and secured a horse. He dragged me up behind him. Poor Hector, he always had pets; at least Státhi had agreed to stay behind. But we had practised this manoeuvre in the careless days when we had frolicked on the plain with Eleni and me clinging onto him.

The rider behind can protect the foremost rider's back, so I twisted around and put an arrow to the string, as the horse moved uneasily beneath us. It was not used to being draped in a blanket jingling with bronze plates, although the armoured cloth gave me the purchase to balance behind my brother.

Hector's battle array was simple; he had his three ranks of spearmen, the chariots in the middle, the Amazons and the Mysian cavalry on the flanks. Two-thirds of the number of the Achaeans under their own commanders ranged across the plain.

`Troy!' he bellowed, and the ranks answered, `Troy!'

The enemy advanced at a run, but we did not run to meet them. Dust blanketed my sight; all I saw for an uncounted time were the looming bodies and bared teeth of Achaeans as I shot at them off Hector's back while he rode up and down and across the line of battle. There was a clanging like bronze bells as the armour collided; I heard dreadful screams in the dust; but I had no time to be afraid. I sighted along my arrows for the attackers, and I shot them as they came.

I know how many I hit, for I had twenty arrows, and I only missed once. A spear clanged off my helmet, and Hector reached around to hold me as I slipped, but I recovered quickly; it was a good helmet.

I saw that a shield was cloven and a man pinned behind it; someone was stripping a dead man of his armour when he was struck with a spear in turn and died with a gurgle. A wheel crunched over a living man, the horses running wild, the driver draped bonelessly over the wicker. A rock fell among our ranks and crushed a Trojan helmet.

Then the chariots came. Hector forced his mare at a gallop into the front rank and screamed an order; I heard an ordered clank of metal and the thud as spear butts grounded. The three ranks stood, each spear at a different angle, bristling like a hedgehog, as the chariots of the Achaeans rumbled towards us.

I could not shut my eyes. They came slowly, it seemed to me, the horses cantering like racers, manes braided and tails flowing, beautiful and deadly. They were close enough for me to see the metal men's eyes when they ran themselves onto the spear wall with a heaven-splitting shriek; and fine steeds were so much carrion flesh and agonised kicking hoofs; and the Trojans retreated again, foot by foot, keeping to their ranks.

Someone was crying aloud to the goddess Athene; I heard an Argive say that it was Diomedes of the loud war-cry. The goddess was with him, whispering in his ear. I saw him fell two brothers together with one sweep of his sword, then he raged on ahead of his comrades, along a battle line which strained and wavered and never quite broke, though the ground was soaked in blood and the noise was more than I could bear.

I drew and loosed as Hector's horse battered her way through the ranks, and his sword moved like a reaping hook; he did not tire. He was moving us closer to this Diomedes, who was god-possessed and battle-mad.

A chariot drew up with Pandarus and Aeneas, the son of Aphrodite. We lost sight of them as the tide of battle rolled us like wrack; then I saw Pandarus launch his spear, which bounced off a shield and slew someone else. Diomedes had torn off his helmet; surely even Pandarus could not miss him. But the armoured goddess was beside the Argive, smiling; and he threw before Pandarus could draw his sword.

We were quite close to him when a spear pierced his eye and sliced through his chin. The chariot was pulled up. Pandarus toppled dead onto the ground in a flash of burnished bronze. A cast stone felled Aeneas as he knelt beside Pandarus; I think it broke his legs, but his mother came for him, Aphrodite in a scented mist, and carried him away, depositing him in a Trojan chariot with the other wounded.

Then I saw such an amazing thing that I grasped Hector in shock. The battle-mad Diomedes, thwarted of Aeneas, was thrusting his spear at the goddess, at Aphrodite herself. He wounded her on the hand and she fled.

This was not enough for him, for another god came, Ares, the Butcher of men in bloody armour, and Diomedes pounced on him and hacked and slashed.

`He is mad,' commented Hector. `He is fighting the air,' but I could see blows landing on immortal flesh and ichor staining a tunic woven by the graces. Diomedes actually fought Ares off to get to Aeneas.

Sarpedon came and many Trojans, and there was fierce battle around the body; I did not think that Aeneas was dead. I leaned down as we passed and grabbed a quiver off the body of a dead archer, for all my arrows were gone.

I heard a Carian war cry and we were swept aside by their advance; then Hector leapt down and drew his sword, attacking the men who sought to gain Aeneas, until they were driven back.

Then suddenly we heard a trumpet. The Achaeans were behind us. We had been outflanked.

Hector wheeled the horse and put the reins into my hands. Beside us, our brother Cerasus fell, speared through the belly. Hector cried to me, `Go into the city, tell the queen to sacrifice her richest garment to the Lady,' he yelled, `and bring me a fresh horse.'

 

I tumbled off the mare at the Dardanian Gate. Someone took her and led her away. I gasped that I needed a fresh mount and ran up the streets to the palace, stumbling and bloodstained. I fell at the feet of Hecube my mother and delivered Hector's message.

`We can see what is happening,' she said slowly. `I will do as my son says. Must you go back, Cassandra?'

`Hector needs me,' I gasped. Tithone caught me and made me drink a measure of wine, water and barley meal, which tasted revolting, before she allowed me to mount again and ride back.

The noise struck me afresh. And there was that goddess, the lady of the glittering helmet, moving among the ranks, whispering, touching. In her wake the Argives were refreshed; her harvest was the bodies of my brothers.

I cried upon Hecate, drinker of dog's blood, destroying mother, to banish her. There was a flapping of wings as some new god descended between me and Athene and I thought I saw the Maiden's eyes turn on me, narrowing.

Hecate Destroyer had come, although I did not know if she was responding to my call. Hecate was blood-drenched, slippery with gore, and I was glad that I could not see her face. She carried fear of death with her like a cloud. Her presence shielded us from the worst of the Argive advance, chilling Achaean hearts, dimming their eyes.

I found Hector and he climbed onto the horse. I settled myself behind him.

We crossed the Scamander by wading; it was not too deep and the tide was out. We dragged such of the wounded as could move after us and we clove our way to the Scamander Gate and into the city of Troy.