[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
his broad brow. Despite the fullness of his rich brown beard I saw that his cheeks were becoming
hollow. The strain of this war was taking its toll on him.
"You are the man at the gate," he said finally. His words were measured, neither surprise nor anger in
them.
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I nodded.
He looked me over carefully. "Your name?"
"Orion."
"From where?"
"Far to the west of here. Beyond the seas where the sun sets."
"Beyond Okeanus?" he asked.
"Yes."
He puzzled over that, brow knitted, for a few moments. Then he asked, "What brings you to the plain of
Ilios? Why are you fighting for the Achaians?"
"A duty I owe to a god," I said.
"Which god?"
"Athene."
"Athene sent you here to fight for the Achaians?" He seemed concerned at that, almost worried.
With a shake of my head, I answered, "I arrived at the Achaian camp the night before yesterday. I had
never seen Troy before. Suddenly, in the midst of the fighting, I acted on impulse. I don't know what
made me do what I did. It all happened in the flash of a moment."
Hector smiled tightly. "Battle frenzy. A god took control of your spirit, my friend, and inspired you to
deeds no mortal could achieve unaided. It has happened to me many times."
I smiled back at him. "Yes, perhaps that is what happened to me."
"Have no doubt of it. Ares or Athene seized your spirit and filled you with battle frenzy. You could have
challenged Achilles himself in such a state."
Slaves came out of the darkness to set up chairs of stretched hides and offer fruit and wine. Following
Hector's lead, I sat and took a little of each. The quality of the Trojan wine was far superior to that of the
Achaians.
"You carry the wand of a herald and say that you are here as an emissary of Agamemnon," Hector said,
leaning back tiredly in his creaking chair.
"I bring an offer of peace."
"We have heard such offers before. Is there anything new in what Agamemnon proposes?"
I noticed that his two aides stepped closer, eager to hear what I had to say. I thought briefly of
Odysseus, who trusted me. But I said: "The High King repeats his earlier offer of peace. If you will
restore Helen and the fortune she brought from Sparta with her, and pay an indemnity for the costs the
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Achaians have incurred, Agamemnon will lead his ships away from Ilios and Troy."
Hector glanced up at his two standing lieutenants, who muttered grimly.
Then to me he said, "We did not accept these terms when the Achaians had us penned up inside our city
walls, without allies. Now that we outnumber them and havethem penned in their own camp, why should
we even consider such insulting terms?"
I had to make it sound at least halfway convincing, I thought. "In the view of the Achaians, Prince
Hector, your success today was helped greatly by the fact that Achilles did not enter the battle. He will
not remain on the sidelines forever."
"One man," Hector countered.
"The best warrior in the Achaian host," I pointed out. "And his Myrmidones are a formidable fighting
unit, I am told."
"True enough," admitted Hector. "Still, this offer of peace is no different than all the others, even though
we now hold the upper hand."
"Then what am I to tell the High King?"
Hector got to his feet. "That is not my decision to make. I command the army, but my father is still king
in Troy. He and his council must consider your offer."
I rose too. "King Priam?"
"Polydamas," he called, "conduct this herald to the king. Aeneas, spread the word to the chiefs that we
will not attack until King Priam has considered the latest peace offering from Agamemnon."
A surge of elation swept through me. The Trojans will not attack the Achaian camp as long as I am
dickering with their king! I can give Odysseus and the others a day's respite from battle, at least.
And then I realized that this is exactly what Odysseus had planned. The King of Ithaca had sent an
expendable hero one whom Hector would recognize, yet not someone important to the Achaian
strength into the Trojan camp in a crafty move to gain a day's recuperation from this morning's disaster.
I had thought that I was betraying Odysseus, but he had outsmarted both Hector and me.
Trying to look properly grave and not let my emotions show, I followed the Trojan nobleman called
Polydamas through the camp on the plain and to the walls of Troy.
Chapter 9
I entered the fabled city of Troy in the dead of night. The moon was up, but still it was so dark that I
could see practically nothing. The city walls loomed above like ominous shadows. I saw feeble lanterns
lighting a gate as we passed a massive old oak tree, tossing and sighing in the night breeze, leaning
heavily, bent by the incessant wind of Ilios.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
To approach the gate we had to follow a road that led alongside the beetling walls. Just before the gate a
second curtain wall extended on the other side of the road, so that anyone coming up to the gate was
vulnerable to fire from both sides, as well as ahead.
The gate itself seemed only lightly defended. Virtually the entire Trojan force was camped down by the
beach, I realized. A trio of teenagers were lounging in the open gateway, their inevitable long spears
resting against the stone wall. A few more stood on the battlements above.
Inside, a broad packed-earth street led between buildings that seemed no more than two stories tall. The
moon's pale cold light only made the shadows of their shuttered fronts seem deeper and darker. It must
have been well past midnight. Hardly anyone was stirring along this main street or in the black alleyways
leading off it, not even a cat.
Polydamas was not a wordy fellow. In virtually total silence he led me to a low-roofed building and into
a tiny room lit by the fluttering yellow-blue flame of a small copper oil lamp sitting on a three-legged
wooden stool. There was a single narrow bed and a chest of cedarwood, nothing else. A rough woolen
blanket covered the bed.
"You will be summoned to the king's presence in the morning," said Polydamas, his longest speech of the
night. With not another word he left me, closing the wooden door softly behind him.
And bolting it.
With nothing better to do, I undressed, pulled back the scratchy blanket, and stretched out on the bed.
It was springy; a thin mattress of feathers atop a webbing of ropes.
As I started to drowse off I suddenly realized that the Golden One might invade my dreams once again.
For a while I tried to stave off sleep, but my body got the better of my will, and inevitably my eyes
closed. My last waking thought was to wonder how I might make contact with some of the other
Creators, with the Zeus who regarded the Golden One's plans so questioningly, with the woman who
openly opposed him. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl akte20.pev.pl
his broad brow. Despite the fullness of his rich brown beard I saw that his cheeks were becoming
hollow. The strain of this war was taking its toll on him.
"You are the man at the gate," he said finally. His words were measured, neither surprise nor anger in
them.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
I nodded.
He looked me over carefully. "Your name?"
"Orion."
"From where?"
"Far to the west of here. Beyond the seas where the sun sets."
"Beyond Okeanus?" he asked.
"Yes."
He puzzled over that, brow knitted, for a few moments. Then he asked, "What brings you to the plain of
Ilios? Why are you fighting for the Achaians?"
"A duty I owe to a god," I said.
"Which god?"
"Athene."
"Athene sent you here to fight for the Achaians?" He seemed concerned at that, almost worried.
With a shake of my head, I answered, "I arrived at the Achaian camp the night before yesterday. I had
never seen Troy before. Suddenly, in the midst of the fighting, I acted on impulse. I don't know what
made me do what I did. It all happened in the flash of a moment."
Hector smiled tightly. "Battle frenzy. A god took control of your spirit, my friend, and inspired you to
deeds no mortal could achieve unaided. It has happened to me many times."
I smiled back at him. "Yes, perhaps that is what happened to me."
"Have no doubt of it. Ares or Athene seized your spirit and filled you with battle frenzy. You could have
challenged Achilles himself in such a state."
Slaves came out of the darkness to set up chairs of stretched hides and offer fruit and wine. Following
Hector's lead, I sat and took a little of each. The quality of the Trojan wine was far superior to that of the
Achaians.
"You carry the wand of a herald and say that you are here as an emissary of Agamemnon," Hector said,
leaning back tiredly in his creaking chair.
"I bring an offer of peace."
"We have heard such offers before. Is there anything new in what Agamemnon proposes?"
I noticed that his two aides stepped closer, eager to hear what I had to say. I thought briefly of
Odysseus, who trusted me. But I said: "The High King repeats his earlier offer of peace. If you will
restore Helen and the fortune she brought from Sparta with her, and pay an indemnity for the costs the
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Achaians have incurred, Agamemnon will lead his ships away from Ilios and Troy."
Hector glanced up at his two standing lieutenants, who muttered grimly.
Then to me he said, "We did not accept these terms when the Achaians had us penned up inside our city
walls, without allies. Now that we outnumber them and havethem penned in their own camp, why should
we even consider such insulting terms?"
I had to make it sound at least halfway convincing, I thought. "In the view of the Achaians, Prince
Hector, your success today was helped greatly by the fact that Achilles did not enter the battle. He will
not remain on the sidelines forever."
"One man," Hector countered.
"The best warrior in the Achaian host," I pointed out. "And his Myrmidones are a formidable fighting
unit, I am told."
"True enough," admitted Hector. "Still, this offer of peace is no different than all the others, even though
we now hold the upper hand."
"Then what am I to tell the High King?"
Hector got to his feet. "That is not my decision to make. I command the army, but my father is still king
in Troy. He and his council must consider your offer."
I rose too. "King Priam?"
"Polydamas," he called, "conduct this herald to the king. Aeneas, spread the word to the chiefs that we
will not attack until King Priam has considered the latest peace offering from Agamemnon."
A surge of elation swept through me. The Trojans will not attack the Achaian camp as long as I am
dickering with their king! I can give Odysseus and the others a day's respite from battle, at least.
And then I realized that this is exactly what Odysseus had planned. The King of Ithaca had sent an
expendable hero one whom Hector would recognize, yet not someone important to the Achaian
strength into the Trojan camp in a crafty move to gain a day's recuperation from this morning's disaster.
I had thought that I was betraying Odysseus, but he had outsmarted both Hector and me.
Trying to look properly grave and not let my emotions show, I followed the Trojan nobleman called
Polydamas through the camp on the plain and to the walls of Troy.
Chapter 9
I entered the fabled city of Troy in the dead of night. The moon was up, but still it was so dark that I
could see practically nothing. The city walls loomed above like ominous shadows. I saw feeble lanterns
lighting a gate as we passed a massive old oak tree, tossing and sighing in the night breeze, leaning
heavily, bent by the incessant wind of Ilios.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
To approach the gate we had to follow a road that led alongside the beetling walls. Just before the gate a
second curtain wall extended on the other side of the road, so that anyone coming up to the gate was
vulnerable to fire from both sides, as well as ahead.
The gate itself seemed only lightly defended. Virtually the entire Trojan force was camped down by the
beach, I realized. A trio of teenagers were lounging in the open gateway, their inevitable long spears
resting against the stone wall. A few more stood on the battlements above.
Inside, a broad packed-earth street led between buildings that seemed no more than two stories tall. The
moon's pale cold light only made the shadows of their shuttered fronts seem deeper and darker. It must
have been well past midnight. Hardly anyone was stirring along this main street or in the black alleyways
leading off it, not even a cat.
Polydamas was not a wordy fellow. In virtually total silence he led me to a low-roofed building and into
a tiny room lit by the fluttering yellow-blue flame of a small copper oil lamp sitting on a three-legged
wooden stool. There was a single narrow bed and a chest of cedarwood, nothing else. A rough woolen
blanket covered the bed.
"You will be summoned to the king's presence in the morning," said Polydamas, his longest speech of the
night. With not another word he left me, closing the wooden door softly behind him.
And bolting it.
With nothing better to do, I undressed, pulled back the scratchy blanket, and stretched out on the bed.
It was springy; a thin mattress of feathers atop a webbing of ropes.
As I started to drowse off I suddenly realized that the Golden One might invade my dreams once again.
For a while I tried to stave off sleep, but my body got the better of my will, and inevitably my eyes
closed. My last waking thought was to wonder how I might make contact with some of the other
Creators, with the Zeus who regarded the Golden One's plans so questioningly, with the woman who
openly opposed him. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]