GreekQuest by Herbie Brennan

arrow wound inflicted by the Grecian archer Philoctetes. It sounded as if the war was as good as won.
    And so it was ... almost. From the semi darkness inside the horse you listened to the sounds of the phoney withdrawal, then settled down to wait while the blazing sun turned the horse into an oven.
    Nothing happened for the remainder of that day and as darkness fell, you began to wonder if the Trojans were going to fall for it.
    But fall for it they did. At dawn next morning a sudden movement of the horse jerked you awake. For a moment you could hardly believe it, but it soon became obvious the innocent citizens of Troy were wheeling the horse inside their city gates.
    Watching the outside world through a peephole, the sergeant of your little contingent suddenly gave the order. You and your fellow warriors piled out of the horse through specially constructed trap-doors and fought your way back to the gates.
    Taken utterly by surprise, the Trojans were no match for your ferocity. In less than twenty minutes, the gates of Troy were open and Greek reinforcements pouring through. An hour more and the war was over.
    You were taking a stroll through the captured city later that day admiring the amazing architecture when a familiar figure fell in step beside you.
    â€œThat was well done,” Zeus says grinning. “Could have been better, of course, but you kept the war to ten years which is a decent length by any measure and while I’m not ecstatic with your performance, I’m well enough pleased.” He sniffed. “Now, let’s get you home.”
    With which he waved one hand and the world began to spin around you.
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    Stay together!” screams your guide desperately as everybody races for shelter in different directions.
    You sensibly ignore her and head towards a rocky overhang that should provide some cover. But the rain’s so heavy you somehow miss your way because by the time you should have reached it you’re still running, soaked to the skin, half blinded by the downpour and with not the slightest idea where you’re going.
    Then, as abruptly as it started, the storm stops. The clouds break up and the sun comes out with such violence that your clothes begin to steam.
    You look around to discover the remainder of your tourist party is no more than fifty yards below you. A half-remembered vision of an old man with a laurel-wreath headdress and grey beard flits briefly across your mind, but you dismiss it as mere fantasy and start down Mount Olympus to rejoin your friends.
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    The End

The End
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    Thank you for playing! If you enjoyed this book, look out for more Herbie Brennan adventure books from Andrews UK.