The Arrow of Apollo, page 21
‘Let’s do one more round,’ Elissa said, her voice falsely bright. ‘We might have missed something.’ She looked askance at Tisamenos, but he shook his head. ‘I would do it for you, if I had the power.’
‘It’s not power … it’s dark and strange and I wish I didn’t have it …’
Pain shone in Tisamenos’s flinty eyes. Silvius caught the look. It might be painful, but he would have to try.
Elissa grasped Tisamenos by the hand and felt the stump of his finger. ‘I can’t possibly know what it’s like to be you. But you have to do this.’
‘Sometimes I wonder why,’ said Tisamenos, gently. ‘One city falls, another rises. What will there be left for me when I return home?’
Elissa looked up. ‘Why do you have to go home? You could come with me. Then the stones will not haunt you any more. The curse on your house is ended. When this is finished, you can start again.’
Silvius felt his cheeks burning and the anger dissipating into something else.
The stars were beginning to appear. A breeze rushed over them, making them shiver slightly. Silvius watched as the son of Orestes looked out across the darkening plain, and said, ‘I’ll do it. If we can’t find it tomorrow, I’ll do it. And then, Elissa, I’ll come with you, wherever you go.’
Elissa and Tisamenos embraced, and Silvius stood at the side, angry at himself, full of confusion.
When they released each other, he nodded his thanks, suppressing his emotions. ‘Now let’s find somewhere sheltered to sleep.’
A stone fell to the ground, as if it had been knocked over. A snarl, like a dog. Silvius whipped round, sword already out of his scabbard.
A red glow appeared, lighting up the stones with scarlet, the same kind of scarlet that shone in the eyes of those possessed by the Enemy, that had stained the sea crimson, that had dispersed into the air above Lavinium.
‘Elissa!’ called Silvius. ‘The Arrow! Tisamenos, ready the sack!’
From behind a large boulder appeared three men, each bearing torches, and a large dog, heavy and slinking.
‘Attack!’
Silvius ran forwards, sword raised.
But a deep voice simply laughed, and said, ‘Three young ones in the ruins of Troy? We’ve seen no ship land here for years. You are no traders from Tyre.’
Stopping in surprise, his sandaled feet skidding, Silvius looked more carefully at the men. Their leader, who had spoken, was old, with long grey hair bound by white priestly bands, and an amused look on his deeply lined, long face. The other two, who appeared equally old, wore red bands that fluttered in the breeze. Though frail, they moved with purpose. The dog bounded straight up to Elissa and put his paws on her shoulders; she pushed it off, smiling, and it lay at her feet, presenting its pink belly to be rubbed. Tisamenos kept his hand in the lip of the sack.
‘Who are you?’ Silvius demanded, weapon still poised.
‘Young man,’ said the leader, ‘I might well ask the same question of you.’ He gave his torch to one of his companions. ‘Except that I do not need to.’
‘What do you mean?’ Tisamenos approached carefully.
‘The birds told us.’ The man began busying himself with something he drew out of a casket, a powder that he threw into the air, mumbling beneath his breath. The other two men imitated the actions and sounds he was making. The dog came to the leader’s side, tongue hanging out.
‘The birds told you in the auguries,’ said Elissa.
‘You are right. They tell us the future in their flight. I am Chryses, priest of Apollo. And we know all about you. I know what you are carrying in that quiver.’ Chryses cut over their exclamations. ‘And we can show you what you are looking for.’
‘How do we know this isn’t a trap?’ Silvius asked.
The priest smiled, and pressed his gnarled, liver-spotted hands together. ‘You can’t, of course. We could be anyone. But do you have any other choice?’
Silvius glanced at Tisamenos and Elissa. It was true. They would have to stay on their own for a whole day tomorrow, and hunt for food, if they did not go with the priests. And they had no idea how to get back.
‘We will go with you.’
Chryses bowed and mumbled a few words of prayer.
‘Now, you must follow me. Come along, then.’
He went straight through the middle of his companions, and stopped a few paces away from them. For a moment he seemed lit by a sun that was not there – and then he was gone.
‘What – where did he go?’ The priest had simply vanished.
‘Come with us,’ said the other two priests, ‘and you will see.’
The second of the priests went to where Chryses had stood. Now it seemed as if he too were lit by a different sun. Silvius squinted.
Chryses was there and yet he was not there. If Silvius was simply looking around the space, he saw a line of broken stones and the statue of Apollo on its side. But if he stared and narrowed his eyes, he saw something else entirely.
As Silvius followed the priests, the world around him shifted.
The sky was now bright, with the sun high above them. It felt as if here the sun never went down, the sea was eternally clear, the shore untouched by warships or raiders. This was the Temple of Apollo at Troy, a beautiful high altar before the steps of a large pillared building, and a statue of the god himself, presiding.
He had come home.
Thirty-Four
The Temple of Apollo
In front of Elissa rose a tall altar, before which Chryses was now kneeling. A sacrifice was burning, and the smell of roasting ox filled her nostrils, tinged with the lighter scent of cedar. Behind the altar was a large marble-pillared building with a huge stone flight of steps leading up to it, cut smoothly out of massive rocks. The building was painted in lively crimsons and golds, and it shone as if lit from within.
The other two priests joined Chryses in kneeling, adding their voices to his prayers. Elissa watched Silvius kneel with the priests, eyes shining, and Tisamenos for once looked at peace, resting his load and closing his eyes. She herself joined them, thinking of Apollo and his light, and letting the sun warm her.
Chryses finished his prayer, and stood up to welcome them, opening his arms out wide. ‘The Temple of Apollo,’ he said. ‘Still here in the ruins of Troy, if you know where to look, hidden in a fold of the world. We worship the Lord of Light, coming here as often as we can, and will do as long as we live.’ A flicker of sadness crossed his eyes. He knew that would not be long, thought Elissa. Then he cleared his throat, and banged his stick once, sharply on the ground.
‘An Achaean, a Trojan and a Carthaginian,’ said Chryses. She knew it. She had been right about that. They were meant to be together like this. ‘Now I cannot see what happens next. I cannot enter the temple, and I do not know what is in there. You must go in and see what Apollo has prepared for you.’
He gestured to them, as if shooing away birds.
Elissa took to the stone steps, leading the way to the shadowy entrance above.
This was what she had been looking forward to. The sense of Apollo himself was filling her, his light, his brightness, his purity. She paused in the portico. It was dark inside. But impelled, she went on, and the others followed.
Inside the temple a huge expanse of gleaming white marble floor spread out in front of them.
Right at the far end, Elissa was delighted to see a statue of Apollo looming above them, holding his lyre. The paints were bold and bright, his hair shining, the lyre too.
‘It must be there,’ she shouted, excitement brimming in her voice. ‘Let’s go!’
She set off towards it. Tisamenos caught up with her, and then Silvius was overtaking them both. Laughing, they turned it into a race, and Elissa put on a spurt of speed.
But when she looked up, the statue was still as far away as it had been when she’d started.
Puzzled, Elissa stopped.
Tisamenos had paused too, and was staring at the statue in befuddlement. Silvius was pacing back and forth, nonplussed. Elissa started again, slower this time; after ten steps she stopped and looked back.
Still she had made no progress. Each time she ran, she would only end up in the same place, just near the portico.
Annoyed, Elissa peered outside where she could see the sky and the priests.
‘What’s happening?’ Tisamenos asked.
‘I don’t know. It’s some kind of magic.’
Tentatively she tried to step outside. There was a barrier there, something she could not see. She pushed harder, and some invisible force knocked her back.
They were stuck.
‘Don’t panic,’ said Elissa. ‘Think carefully. We’re in the Temple of Apollo. He wants us to be here.’
‘But there will be safeguards around the Bow, to stop the wrong people,’ cut in Tisamenos. ‘Like the Fury guarding the Shaft.’
‘The temple won’t let any of us approach the statue. We must be thinking about this in the wrong way.’ Silvius’s brow creased.
Elissa unslung the quiver. ‘I think I should open it.’ She glanced at Tisamenos, who nodded. Silvius thrummed his fingers uncertainly.
‘I think,’ said Tisamenos slowly, ‘that we should all do it.’
‘If something goes wrong, we all die,’ said Silvius.
‘I’m prepared to take that risk,’ answered Tisamenos.
‘Apollo will not let us die,’ said Elissa.
It was decided. They stood in a line, Tisamenos and Silvius on either side of Elissa, facing the statue of Apollo. Each of them clasped the quiver’s cover, fingers touching. Elissa spoke. ‘Apollo, Lord of Light. We bring you the Arrow that laid Python low. We need the Bow that can shoot it. We need your help.’ As one, they lifted the cover of the quiver.
For a moment, there was nothing. Then Elissa felt the quiver shaking, and a great golden light issued from it.
The force of it was so powerful that it pushed the three of them backwards. Silvius and Tisamenos let go, but Elissa held on to it, until she could do so no longer.
The arrow shot out from the quiver. Elissa watched in astonishment as it trailed a bright stream of light, which spread out into a wide bridge, leading towards the statue, where the arrow lodged.
The bridge of light remained.
‘It’s for us!’ Elissa called. ‘Apollo is showing us the way …’
Elissa was about to step on it, when Silvius shoved past her, and began to walk. He called excitedly to his friends, ‘Come on!’
Elissa sprang up after him. The bridge was solid, though it seemed to be constructed from light beams, woven together like a tapestry. With a few excited bounds, Silvius reached the end of the bridge, and jumped off, landing at the feet of Apollo’s statue.
Elissa landed confidently behind Silvius, and Tisamenos a little more tentatively. As soon as they’d done so, the bridge of light disappeared. Looking back, Elissa saw the entrance to the temple now vanish into shadows.
‘It’s gone – the entrance. We can’t go back that other way.’
Silvius grasped the Arrow, and pulled it out from where it had stuck into the statue’s pedestal, placing it back in Elissa’s quiver.
‘Now what?’
Elissa cast around. There was only the statue, and a ledge above it. A gleam of something golden alerted her.
‘I think that’s it – up there!’
‘Can you climb up and get it?’
‘I think so …’ She attempted to get a grip on the statue. There were many holds, but it was slippery. Tisamenos came to help her.
Then a hissing sound made Elissa jump.
‘It can’t be … I killed the Last Gorgon … I have her head …’ Tisamenos was clutching the sack, trembling with fear.
A huge shape slithered out from behind the statue, as long as a man, its fangs dripping venom. A snake.
‘Python? Here?’ It was Silvius, and Elissa saw that he too was overcome with terror. She begged Apollo for an answer.
‘It is not Python,’ came a voice. A young, curly-haired man was there, leaning casually against the folds of the statue’s robe. Hermes. Delight coursed through Elissa. He reached up and took the Bow from the ledge, and looked along its length as if appraising it. ‘But you must still fight it.’
The snake reared its crested head and spat, showering them with hot venom, hitting Silvius in the arm and Elissa on the cheek. It stung, burning painfully. Tisamenos, thinking quickly, crouched and placed his shield above his head. ‘Get behind me!’
Shuffling across the floor, Elissa managed to reach him, and Silvius joined them a fraction later, just before the snake struck where he had been standing.
But the snake was too fast, and like a bolt of lightning it hit the shield Tisamenos was holding, and the three companions tumbled away from each other, out from its safety. Tisamenos lost his grip on the Last Gorgon’s head.
Now the snake was looming above Tisamenos. Silvius had fallen to the right, arm bruised, and he scrambled to pick up his sword.
Elissa was on the other side of Tisamenos. She hadn’t been hurt. She had to deflect the snake’s attention from him, so she grabbed a torch from its bracket, hurling it at the snake’s head. It turned to look at her. In its eyes she saw cold death, an inhuman power that made her shudder all over.
Silvius jumped at the snake, and he stuck his sword into it; it recoiled immediately, and narrowly missed him as the creature swooped back to deal with what was irritating it. He yanked his sword out and toppled backwards.
Elissa swooped in from the other side, and gashed the snake with her own sword. It was the first time she’d used it. Dark blood spilled out, and she slipped on it but did not fall.
Angered now, the snake began lashing about.
‘The Gorgon’s head!’ called Tisamenos. Elissa swiftly threw it to him. ‘When I say go, run straight in front of me!’ he cried, catching it. ‘And don’t, whatever you do, look at me!’
The snake was swaying from side to side, sizing up each of them in turn, judging which one to go for. Its long forked tongue flickered in and out of its deadly mouth.
‘Run!’ shouted Tisamenos. Elissa and Silvius sprinted across between him and the snake, and the snake, confused, gazed right at Tisamenos, who pulled out the Last Gorgon’s head and ripped off the bandage.
As Elissa and Silvius tumbled to a halt and turned, ready to help Tisamenos, the snake tensed all its muscles, and began to swing its head from side to side again.
‘Tisamenos! Run!’ called Elissa. But he remained firm, and the snake readied itself for the final attack.
Trembling now, Silvius called too. ‘Tisamenos! Run! You’ll be killed!’
Elissa thought quickly. ‘Do what I do!’ she shouted to Silvius. Then, remembering how she’d been told to pick up snakes, she jumped onto the beast’s body just behind its head. Silvius immediately joined her.
‘It’s working!’ shouted Tisamenos.
There was a strange cracking noise, and the snake’s tail began to turn grey, stone rippling up its spine. With a powerful lunge, the beast pushed forwards, throwing off both Elissa and Silvius. It happened so fast Elissa barely had time to register it. One moment she thought that Tisamenos was about to be bitten. The next, the creature had turned entirely into stone, just near Tisamenos’s head.
Exhausted, Tisamenos bandaged the Last Gorgon’s eyes, and then sank to the floor. Elissa was the first to reach him, and she quickly put a water skin to his lips. Then Silvius arrived, and, shivering and bloodied, Elissa held her old friend in a tight embrace.
The atmosphere in the temple altered a little. Elissa looked up to see Hermes before them, a small smile on his lips. In his arms he held the Bow, a thing of golden beauty, its radiance dispelling any shadows.
‘You know what that snake was,’ he said, quietly.
The fight had been a test, Elissa thought. It was a way of showing them that they could only defeat their doubts and fears when they worked together. ‘Was it the snake inside us?’ asked Elissa.
‘It was. You have now slain it. Tisamenos,’ he continued gravely. ‘You must not use the Last Gorgon’s head, except in times of great need. Or else you risk becoming like her.’ Tisamenos bowed his head.
‘Silvius. You have felt the power of Python and withstood it. You will now carry the Arrow.’ He gave the quiver to Silvius, who took it gently.
‘And, Elissa.’ The god turned his gaze to Elissa, and she felt the warmth of his beauty coursing through her. ‘You have the most important task of all.’ And suddenly she was holding the Bow, and gazing all along its golden length, and the light of a thousand suns shone all around her.
‘For now,’ said Hermes, ‘the fight begins.’
Thirty-Five
Return to Achaea
All Tisamenos could think about was the snake. In the last minute before it had turned to stone, he had gazed deeply into its eyes, and he had seen something there that frightened him. His own reflection, staring back. And then all he could remember was Elissa, her soft voice calling to him, her gentle touch. She was now thanking the three Trojan priests, Silvius carrying the Arrow beside her, grinning.
And what did he have? A monster in his bag; a monster who had saved them.
He cradled it as if it were a baby.
‘Go to the mouth of the river Simois,’ Chryses was saying, ‘and you will find someone there who will carry you home.’
Elissa was striding ahead, Silvius walking alongside her like a puppy, whilst Tisamenos brought up the rear. When the hill of Troy had become a small thing in the distance, Silvius turned for a moment to look at it.
Then he swung round, determined, and marched on with Elissa. Tisamenos dawdled. What was home now? Had the kinghouse been razed to the ground? Had his father and Electra been slaughtered? And if he did return to Mykenai, what would the Swallows want with him?
They followed the Simois until it reached the sea, and they found there a dark ship, and a small group standing in front of it.
