over Antimachus’s face and then he drew himself up. “I have a wife, two grown sons and a young daughter. My sons will be proud to fight for Troy.”
“And when they are cut down by a Greek sword, I hope you can face their mother and say that Helen was worth it. I will meet you again, Antimachus.”
Odysseus stepped into our chariot, Hyppos whipped the reins across the horses’ backs and we tore after Menelaus. I gripped the side and kept my eyes fixed on the grasslands. As we thundered past, Trojan boys looked up from their guardianship of animals and a caravan of mules stopped to let us pass. I blinked back tears. Paris risked destroying this for Helen. What game were the gods playing that the stakes were so high?
We slowed to cross the bridge and I glimpsed children playing in the river. Then the horses cantered through a wooded area, along a short track and out onto the beach. By the time Hyppos pulled them up by the red ship, Menelaus was giving orders to set sail.
I climbed aboard and curled up in my sheltered spot at the stern of the ship as a hard knot tightened in my stomach. So there would be a war after all and Ithacan men would die because of Helen and Paris. I thought of Penelope waiting for news from the merchants and then imagined how quiet Mother would become, how she’d retire to her room, only to come out again when Odysseus returned.
It was dusk before we landed at Tenedos. The ship was hauled onto the sand, but I pretended to be asleep when Odysseus looked in on me. I heard him shouting orders to set up camp and start a fire. I sighed. I hadn’t realised he shouted so much. Later I crept onto the deck and saw the fire burning on the beach. Men moved around it, some carrying wood to the fire and a few boasting how they’d speared a wild pig. As I watched the group, I saw two had been set as sentries, walking along the beach, their eyes peeled on the dark of the sea.
I heard laughter. Evander’s laughter. Feeling the need of warmth and light, I jumped down onto the sand and hurried to the fire. I stood near two oarsmen as they turned the wild pig on a spit and listened to their chatter about the red ship and the good speed they’d made across the sea. They didn’t mention the battles ahead.
The smell of cooking made my stomach ache and I realised how little I’d eaten that day. Desperate to avoid any thoughts of Troy, I mixed the wine with water and handed out the wine skins to the men. I found Menelaus sitting on his own, his head in his hands. He didn’t answer when I whispered his name, so I left the wine by his feet.
Gradually the aroma and the sound of sizzling fat drew all except Menelaus to the fire. Some of the men licked their lips, their eyes fixed on the roasting pig as if they’d prefer to eat the meat half-cooked than wait any longer. Odysseus joked with them in the easy way he had with ordinary men, until at last it was ready, and he was able to give thanks to the great god Zeus. There was a cheer as he sliced into the meat. Carefully he dedicated the skin and the bones to the gods and gave every man his share.
Once we had the warm food in our hands, our mood lifted. Sailors sat in small groups, eagerly eating and stopping only to take a swig of wine or mutter a few words of appreciation.
Odysseus dragged a log close to the fire and we sat together with our meal. Moths fluttered around our heads and an owl called, almost as if all was well and we were still in Ithaca. A full stomach and the warmth from the flames revived me a little and I whispered the details of my meeting with Helen.
“I’ll tell him when he’s calmer,” Odysseus said, nodding his head towards Menelaus. He wiped his hands on the grass and picked up his wine skin. “Tonight we should be grateful to have got out of Troy alive. Paris must have bribed that old soldier, Antimachus, probably with the gold he took from Menelaus’ treasury.”
My memory flickered back to Paris and his handsome face.
“And when they are cut down by a Greek sword, I hope you can face their mother and say that Helen was worth it. I will meet you again, Antimachus.”
Odysseus stepped into our chariot, Hyppos whipped the reins across the horses’ backs and we tore after Menelaus. I gripped the side and kept my eyes fixed on the grasslands. As we thundered past, Trojan boys looked up from their guardianship of animals and a caravan of mules stopped to let us pass. I blinked back tears. Paris risked destroying this for Helen. What game were the gods playing that the stakes were so high?
We slowed to cross the bridge and I glimpsed children playing in the river. Then the horses cantered through a wooded area, along a short track and out onto the beach. By the time Hyppos pulled them up by the red ship, Menelaus was giving orders to set sail.
I climbed aboard and curled up in my sheltered spot at the stern of the ship as a hard knot tightened in my stomach. So there would be a war after all and Ithacan men would die because of Helen and Paris. I thought of Penelope waiting for news from the merchants and then imagined how quiet Mother would become, how she’d retire to her room, only to come out again when Odysseus returned.
It was dusk before we landed at Tenedos. The ship was hauled onto the sand, but I pretended to be asleep when Odysseus looked in on me. I heard him shouting orders to set up camp and start a fire. I sighed. I hadn’t realised he shouted so much. Later I crept onto the deck and saw the fire burning on the beach. Men moved around it, some carrying wood to the fire and a few boasting how they’d speared a wild pig. As I watched the group, I saw two had been set as sentries, walking along the beach, their eyes peeled on the dark of the sea.
I heard laughter. Evander’s laughter. Feeling the need of warmth and light, I jumped down onto the sand and hurried to the fire. I stood near two oarsmen as they turned the wild pig on a spit and listened to their chatter about the red ship and the good speed they’d made across the sea. They didn’t mention the battles ahead.
The smell of cooking made my stomach ache and I realised how little I’d eaten that day. Desperate to avoid any thoughts of Troy, I mixed the wine with water and handed out the wine skins to the men. I found Menelaus sitting on his own, his head in his hands. He didn’t answer when I whispered his name, so I left the wine by his feet.
Gradually the aroma and the sound of sizzling fat drew all except Menelaus to the fire. Some of the men licked their lips, their eyes fixed on the roasting pig as if they’d prefer to eat the meat half-cooked than wait any longer. Odysseus joked with them in the easy way he had with ordinary men, until at last it was ready, and he was able to give thanks to the great god Zeus. There was a cheer as he sliced into the meat. Carefully he dedicated the skin and the bones to the gods and gave every man his share.
Once we had the warm food in our hands, our mood lifted. Sailors sat in small groups, eagerly eating and stopping only to take a swig of wine or mutter a few words of appreciation.
Odysseus dragged a log close to the fire and we sat together with our meal. Moths fluttered around our heads and an owl called, almost as if all was well and we were still in Ithaca. A full stomach and the warmth from the flames revived me a little and I whispered the details of my meeting with Helen.
“I’ll tell him when he’s calmer,” Odysseus said, nodding his head towards Menelaus. He wiped his hands on the grass and picked up his wine skin. “Tonight we should be grateful to have got out of Troy alive. Paris must have bribed that old soldier, Antimachus, probably with the gold he took from Menelaus’ treasury.”
My memory flickered back to Paris and his handsome face.
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