The War at Troy. Lindsay Clarke

disappointed by your response to Agamemnon’s summons?’

      Odysseus pursed his lips in an arch tilt of the head.

      ‘We were counting on you for at least sixty ships,’ said Palamedes.

      ‘You have seen how small my island is,’ Odysseus answered, smiling still. ‘If you can find sixty ships here you may keep four fifths of them, with my blessing.’

      ‘No doubt other ships await your word on Same, Dulichium and Zacynthus.’

      Odysseus arched his brows. ‘Agamemnon has all the hosts of Argos at his command. The Cretan fleet will almost certainly join with him since he’s set Idomeneus against his father, and here you are with the might of Euboea and Sparta. So why would you need to trouble the peace of our dull sheepfolds?’

      ‘You seem to be well informed,’ Palamedes smiled.

      ‘I try to keep my ears open.’

      Menelaus cleared his throat. ‘Be straight with us, Odysseus. It’s you we need.’

      Palamedes picked up the jug from the table. On the excuse that his stomach had been weakened by the sea-passage, he had drunk very little, but he poured more wine into his host’s goblet now. ‘Your reputation for courage and cunning reaches far across the Aegean. Where Odysseus goes, others will follow.’

      ‘Then let them follow my example and stay at home.’

      ‘I can’t do that,’ said Menelaus. ‘I can’t just let her go.’

      Odysseus studied the anguish in his friend’s eyes for a long moment. ‘I know,’ he said, ‘and my heart bleeds for you. But surely there are better ways to catch a stray mare than setting fire to the forest? Surely this whole wretched affair could be managed through negotiation? Telamon can have no use for Hesione now that he’s bed-ridden. It’s time he saw reason. Let there be an exchange of hostages. That’s the way to get Helen back.’ He paused, remembering how proud Menelaus had been that day in Sparta: then added, ‘—if you still want her, that is.’

      Menelaus took a swig at his wine and glanced away. ‘It’s too late for that.’

      ‘Why?’ Odysseus demanded. ‘Because your heart is so badly wounded that only blood will heal it? Or because your brother’s mind is set on war?’

      When Menelaus did not answer, Palamedes said, ‘The Trojans gave Menelaus their word that they came as friends to Argos seeking peace. This war is of their making. It surprises me that the Prince of Ithaca shows so little stomach for the enterprise. Agamemnon led me to believe that you and he have often talked together of taking Troy. Is that not so?’

      ‘Yes, it’s so. Just as I once talked with Theseus about sailing westwards round the coast of Africa just to see what was there! I was a younger man then, and full of idle dreams.’

      Palamedes said, ‘There is nothing idle in the thought of taking Troy. It has been done.’

      ‘Yes, and Telamon never stops bragging about it! What he always fails to mention is that the Earthshaker had already flattened the city and salted the land with a great wave before he and Heracles came. And that was thirty years ago at a time when the Trojans were so desperate they were ready to propitiate the gods with human sacrifice. Things have changed since then. Priam has built a mighty city on the ruins of his father’s town. And the Dardanians, Mysians, Lydians, and Lycians have all grown wealthy with him. He might even be able to call on the Amazons and the Hatti empire beyond the Red River further east.’ Odysseus forestalled interruption. ‘You’re quite correct, my friend. I did think about taking Troy once – until I saw it for the madness that it was. Heed my counsel and stick to your dice – the odds are more in your favour there.’

      Palamedes was eager to retort but Menelaus reached out a hand to restrain him. ‘This isn’t like you, Odysseus,’ he said. ‘I’ve never known danger or difficulties knock the heart out of you before.’

      ‘My heart is strong enough. So is my brain. Also I have a wife now, and a son.’

      ‘Menelaus also has a wife,’ Palamedes said, ‘and so do many men. If all of them thought as you do, then our Trojan friends would feel free to ravish their wives at leisure. Who knows but that your own might not be next?’

      Odysseus narrowed his eyes. ‘This has been a happy day, my lords, and we have drunk much wine.’ He got to his feet. ‘You are the guests of my house. I think it better that we sleep than that we quarrel.’

      ‘We’re not looking for a quarrel,’ Menelaus said. ‘It’s your help I need. All Argos needs it. I thought you were my friend, Odysseus.’

      ‘I am. And as your friend I counsel you against this madness.’ Odysseus looked down to where the surf was breaking white in the moonlight at the foot of the cliff. Then he sighed, shook his head, and seemed to reach a decision. ‘I knew you would be coming, and I knew what you would ask. Even before Agamemnon summoned me to Mycenae, I had taken the omens on this matter.’

      ‘And what did they say?’

      ‘That a war against Troy would drag on for ten years before it ended.’

      Menelaus winced. ‘Who gave you this judgement?’

      After a moment’s hesitation Odysseus said, ‘It came to me in a dream.’

      ‘Ah,’ said Palamedes, ‘a dream!’

      ‘A dream which I took to the oracle on our island. The old priestess there serves Earth-Mother Dia. She has snake wisdom and second sight. It was she who read the meaning of the dream for me.’

      Palamedes smiled into his wine-cup. ‘Stranger and stranger!’

      Menelaus said, ‘My own soothsayers at the Bronze House in Sparta have assured me that Helen will return. They said nothing of it taking so long.’ He took in the shrug with which Odysseus looked away. Both men knew well enough that it was not unknown for priests to prophesy what their masters wished to hear.

      In the silence Palamedes said, ‘So will you share this portentous dream with us?’ Odysseus looked away from him to Menelaus, who glanced up from his wine-cup with entreaty in his eyes. The Euboean added, ‘Or must the princes of Argos be left to think that Odysseus stays at home because he has bad dreams?’

      Without looking at him, Odysseus sat down again. When he spoke it was to neither of these difficult guests but to the night glittering above him and the dark sea below.

      ‘In the dream I had yoked an ox and an ass to my plough and was scattering salt over my shoulder in the furrows as I worked the land. At the end of the tenth furrow I was stopped in my tracks by the sight of an infant boy that somebody had thrown before my ploughshare.’

      There was a lull in the singing from the benches and the silence felt louder now. The two other men waited, but Odysseus said no more.

      ‘That was it?’ said Menelaus.

      Odysseus nodded grimly.

      ‘A droll dream,’ said Palamedes. ‘What did your wise-woman make of it? Not that Menelaus was the ox and myself the ass, I trust?’

      Odysseus refused to rise to the jibe. ‘Diotima knew without my telling her that war with Troy was much on my mind. She reminded me that the ox is Zeus’s beast of summer and the ass the winter beast of Cronos. Each furrow in my dream stands for a year. To sow them with salt means ten wasted years.’ He fixed his eyes on the two men. ‘Diotima prophesied two other things: that I would shortly have a son, and that the decisive battle for Troy would not come until ten years had been thrown away. Her first prophecy has already come to pass.’

      ‘So the dream also gave your son his name,’ Palamedes smiled. ‘A powerful dream, it seems, as well as droll – if your old lady of the snakes has it right.’

      Odysseus said, ‘I for one would not care to argue with the Earth Mother.’

      ‘No more would I. But oracles and