The Girl From Ithaca (21 page)

“Antilochus … I think.”

“I thought you might. I’m supporting Zander, seeing as he’s from Mycenae, but Menelaus looks like he’ll do well.”

“Menelaus’ horses are a bit too lively,” Ellissa said. “I think I’ll support the Athenian charioteer, the small man with the black and white team.”

I nodded. “That’s Ion. Yes, he looks confident, a lot more confident than Antilochus.”

Most of the men had crowded along the track, but some had clambered onto the ships beside us and I heard bets being made, with much cheering for favourites. Ajax’s voice rang out above others, shouting for his charioteer to win the honour for his kingdom of Salamis.

When Odysseus brought his arm down to signal the start, Menelaus’ horses stormed into the lead, their hooves creating a dust cloud behind them. Ion, Ellissa’s favourite, drove his pair after them, with Cadmus from Salamis and Io’s favourite, Zander, neck and neck in third place. Then it was Antilochus, and Meriones from Crete in last position.

“Meriones’ horses are Trojan bred. I expect they’ll overtake the others on the home straight,” said the muscular man standing next to Io.

“You should be cheering for your friend,” Io declared.

The man reddened. “Oh, I want Zander to win, but being realistic, I think those strong Trojan horses have the best chance.”

I wasn’t sure how he knew what the horses were like, because he’d been gazing at Io the whole time. It was slowly dawning on me why Io had been in a strange mood all day. I turned back to the chariots and was relieved to find Antilochus still in front of Meriones.

When Menelaus approached the turning point, he hauled in the reins, but his horses didn’t respond. I saw him wrestling for control, trying to shorten their stride, ready for the turn. He careered a long way beyond the post and then, finally managing to bring his horses round, took a wide turn. Ion carefully manoeuvred his chariot tightly around the pole and snatched the lead.

Meriones made his move and pounded ahead of both Antilochus and Cadmus. Men cheered as he took a tight turn, but I concentrated on the contest at the back of the race, between Cadmus and Antilochus. I wasn’t the only one. Big Ajax was shouting for Cadmus in his loud, booming voice and I saw Nestor waving his arms, as though giving instructions to his son from a distance. Cadmus swung wide around the post. Antilochus overtook on the inside and began the long race back to the finishing line.

“Look at Ion!” Ellissa shouted.

I glanced over to the leading chariots and saw Ion’s black and white pair of horses galloping over the line to win the race. Menelaus and Meriones raced on either side of Zander, trying to overtake him. I held my breath. They looked too close, they were going to collide. There was a deafening crack as Menelaus’ wheel hub caught the side of Zander’s chariot. Meriones urged his horses on to the finish, while Menelaus and Zander hauled on their reins, trying to regain control of their chariots.

Then I noticed Antilochus. I laughed in disbelief as he manoeuvred his small horses round the struggling men and pulled ahead of them. Menelaus’ chariot ran on one wheel and then bounced several times before righting itself. He raced after Antilochus, gaining ground rapidly as they pounded down the final stretch. I shouted until my throat was sore, crying out as the Spartan horses drew level, and then gasping with relief when Antilochus fought back. His small Pylian horses gave a final burst of speed and he held onto third place, behind Meriones and just ahead of Menelaus, with Cadmus following one length of a horse after.

I looked down the track for Zander and found him leading his horses to the finish on foot, his chariot tilting at an odd angle, one side higher than the other.

“That was bad luck,” said a Mycenaean, standing beside Ellissa.

Io looked like she’d missed the race altogether, being in close conversation with the man next to her.

“Let’s go and congratulate Antilochus,” Ellissa whispered.

We left Io with her man and ran over to Antilochus, who’d just been presented with his third prize. Nestor held onto the gold cup for his son and talked about a chariot race he’d won thirty years before, while Antilochus and Thrasymedes wiped down the sweating horses, praising them for their agility.

“Give them extra feed tonight,” Antilochus called to the stable boys, as they led the horses away. He turned and smiled at me, his face flushed from the exertion and excitement of the race. Suddenly I didn’t know what to say and looked round for Ellissa. She wasn’t there.

“What did you think of the Pylos horses?” Antilochus asked.

I nodded dumbly. Why couldn’t I speak?

“They gave their best and then Zander’s bad luck was our good fortune,” Antilochus grinned.

“You’re being modest, brother. And you know a good warrior isn’t meant to be modest. You should tell of your mighty victories again and again … and again,” Thrasymedes joked, throwing a look at his father.

Nestor wagged his finger playfully. “And a son isn’t meant to make fun of his father.”

“Quite right,” Achilles cried, striding over. He slapped Antilochus on the back. “Skilled chariot racing, Prince Antilochus. Imagine what you’d be like if you had decent horses.”

Nestor wagged his finger again, this time at Achilles. The men burst into laughter and started to discuss the race. All the conflicts of the last year seemed to fall away as they boasted and joked with one another, full of wild claims about their own horses and pointing out faults in their opponents. I backed away from the men’s talk and spotted Ellissa with Odysseus. As I ran to join them, I saw a furious Ajax storming towards them.

“That was unfair!” he roared. “In Salamis, we always put the turning poles directly in front of the starting line. Diomedes put the pole in the wrong place. It should have been much more to the left and that’s the reason my charioteer Cadmus turned so badly. Without the bad turn, he’d have kept ahead of Antilochus and come in third … at least.”

Odysseus held up his hands. “Oh come on, old friend. This race was a light-hearted diversion from all the hardships tomorrow might bring. It’s not a judgement on your horses to come fifth. Think about it, these horses are the best in the camp. No horses from Ithaca made the starting line.”

Ajax didn’t react for a moment, and we waited to see if the words would ease his temper. Then suddenly he grinned and thumped Odysseus on his chest, making my brother stagger back a few paces.

“Ha! Ithacan horses, that’s a good one. Perhaps next time we could have a mule race to give yours a chance,” he cried.

“A splendid idea,” Odysseus said. “Now let’s have another drink and we’ll see how well your soldiers sing.”

Many of the soldiers returned to the fire and some brought out their reed pipes and flutes. Ellissa and I listened to Evander as he sang along to a fishermen’s song from Pylos, no one seeming to mind that most of his words were different from theirs. After several cycles of the song, Ellissa joined in and so I followed her, sweetness of voice not being required in this lively chorus. Enjoying the pleasure of being accepted by the group and not worrying what I sounded like, it took me a moment to realise Io was calling my name.

“There you are,” I cried. “Who’s your friend?”

Io grinned. “Nicodamas, he’s Agamemnon’s blacksmith. I knew him back in Mycenae, but Clytemnestra didn’t approve of her attendants mixing with men. Now we’ve found each other again and Clytemnestra isn’t here to stop us.”

“Well, don’t let Agamemnon catch you, I don’t think he’d approve either.”

“That’s what I want to ask. I’m going back to his tent, but if Agamemnon comes looking for me, let me know.”

“He’d kill you if he found out.”

“He won’t find out. He’s just called a meeting in Achilles’ hut, working out battle plans against the Amazons. They’ll argue as usual and take ages to agree on anything. He won’t be back for a long time yet.”

“Io, it’s not a very …” But I didn’t get chance to finish. Io turned round and disappeared into the group behind us.

Ellissa shook her head. “She likes to take risks, that one.”

“Suppose we’d better keep a look-out for Agamemenon,” I sighed.

We found a quieter spot, away from the singing and closer to the sea. Ellissa sat cross-legged in the sand, facing Achilles’ camp so she’d catch sight of Agamemnon returning from the council. I knelt by her and closed my eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over me.

“No sign of him yet, but we could be watching all night,” Ellissa complained. “I just hope we don’t have to go through this every time Io likes a man.”

“No wonder Clytemnestra insisted on the no men rule.”

Absent-mindedly, I scooped up handfuls of sand and let it filter through my fingers.

“I suppose you miss Arisbe?” I said.

“Not as much as you miss Ithaca. I didn’t live there long enough and I’ve no family since my father died.” She started to play with the sand too. “Moving around a lot as a child meant I got used to changing homes.”

“Whereas I’m not much good at it at all. I’m always thinking about my family and what they’ll be doing.” I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. “This time of year, my friend Lysander will be shearing his sheep and Father will be busy with his fruit trees.”

“Why doesn’t Odysseus send you home in one of his ships?” Ellissa asked.

“He did talk about it at first but he’s got used to having me here and he knows I want to stay.”

“But if you long for Ithaca so much, surely you’d rather go home.”

“Odysseus longs for Ithaca too. So do most of our soldiers. I feel I have to stay with them to make up for failing Iphigenia,” I said.

Ellissa looked confused. “Who’s Iphigenia?”

Slowly, I told Ellissa about Agamemnon’s daughter and how she’d been killed.

“By her own father,” Ellissa gasped.

“Yes, and that rotten priest. Now you know why I despise them both.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

I lay on my back, comforted by the feel of the warm sand. “But I still need to succeed in something. I need to look after Odysseus and help get Helen back to Menelaus.”

Closing my eyes, I listened to Ellissa as she told me about her travels with her father. She was describing the dangers of Thrace, when she stopped suddenly. I looked up and followed her gaze. It was if Hades himself was striding towards us. We’d forgotten to watch for Agamemnon and now he was a mere fifty paces away.

“If you warn Io he’s prowling round camp again, I’ll try to distract him,” I whispered.

But as Ellissa scrambled to her feet, Agamemnon called out, “Woman, stay where you are, I want a word with both of you!”

Chapter EIGHTEEN

The Healer

W
e waited as he closed in.

“You, you two women, you’ll be helping Machaon the healer tomorrow. Go to his tent and he’ll tell you what to do.”

We backed away and then turned and walked quickly along the beach.

“How can we warn Io?” Ellissa said.

“We’ll have to cut back later and hope he doesn’t …”

“Odysseus’ sister, come here!” Agamemnon shouted.

“What now?” I groaned. “Ellissa, you keep going and then sneak back to warn Io. I’ll try to keep him busy.”

Not waiting for her reply, I ran over to Agamemnon.

“Where’s my blacksmith?” he said, hands on his hips.

“Your blacksmith?”

“I saw him with you earlier and now he’s nowhere to be seen. He needs instructions for tomorrow. What’ve you done with him?”

My heart was racing. “I’m not sure what you mean, Agamemnon. I haven’t done anything with your blacksmith, except discuss the horses in the chariot race. It was a brief exchange and there were many people nearby. They can confirm that is all that happened.”

“Idiot girl, I want to know where the cursed man is, that’s all.”

“But I insist on you disclosing the person who made allegations of me doing something with your blacksmith. It sounds like an allegation and a slur on my name. I will report him to my brother. Rumours like this will ruin my chances of a decent marriage and be a great loss to Ithacan trade. You should appreciate that, Agamemnon. ”

His face darkened. “Shut up and listen to me. No one has said anything about you and the blacksmith and there are no dammed rumours. Just tell me where he is.”

I watched the muscles twitch along his jaw line and felt like a child prodding an old hunting dog. “If there are no rumours, why have you asked me where he is?”

“Have the gods taken your senses, woman? I saw you with him. During the chariot race. And I’ve not seen him since.”

He gripped me by the shoulders and shook me. I bore it as long as I could and then gasped, “But I don’t know where he is. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

Agamemnon sighed and pushed me away. “Go on then, get to Machaon. Seems your brother got your share of the brains. May the gods help Machaon.”

Agamemnon started back towards his camp, making for Nicodamas’ tent. There was no sign of Ellissa or Io. Having a horrible feeling they could both be in the tent, I gave the old hunting dog one more prod. “Agamemnon, your blacksmith is the one called Nicodamas, isn’t he?”