The Arrow of Apollo, page 22
Dark-skinned and in shining robes, they bowed, and spoke in a language that Tisamenos had not heard before. But Elissa gasped in amazement, before running towards them as fast as she could.
She was almost jumping up and down with excitement. She spoke a few words to them, and they answered her with delight, and then she embraced each of them in turn, and they kissed her on the cheek and smiled and teased her as if she were their own daughter. She called back to Tisamenos and Silvius, and said, ‘Phoenicians. They’re from Tyre, and Chryses has asked them to take us back to Achaea. They have a cargo of silks they want to sell, but they will give us free passage.’
‘We know of this Python,’ said one of the Phoenicians, a tall man with a long handsome nose, and hair that gleamed with oil. He had gold on his arms and a quick smile, and his name was Batnoam. ‘We call him Lotan, the serpent. The priests sent to us that you were coming. You are of great importance, and it is an honour for us to carry you.’
‘Thank you,’ Elissa was saying, and then she clambered on board, as if she had always been with them. Silvius nodded and shook their hands, whilst Tisamenos followed more stiffly afterwards, noting that the traders looked at his bag with curiosity. He kept it close to his body.
‘Come!’ Another tall, smiling man beckoned to Tisamenos and Silvius, and led them to a cabin. A large bronze bath stood in the centre of it, filled with hot scented water.
Tisamenos glanced at Silvius, and then they were both tearing off their dusty, dirty clothes, and racing to get in first.
It was big enough for both of them, and they washed and splashed until Tisamenos had almost forgotten about the horror of the snake, and his other worries were melting away too.
The tall man brought hot sweet drinks, and Tisamenos barely noticed the boat leaving the river and entering the open sea.
‘In Lavinium we don’t have baths like this,’ said Silvius. ‘We wash in cold water, or the river.’
Tisamenos blushed, thinking of his nurse and the servants who would attend him whilst he had a bath. But all of that was behind him now, and he would go with Elissa and find somewhere new.
‘Do you think your city has survived?’ he asked.
Silvius’s face grew grave. ‘I don’t know. I looked for my father in the Underworld, but did not see him. But then the ferryman said that souls don’t go there any more. So I do not know …’
‘Let’s not think about it for now,’ said Tisamenos. And he sipped his warm spicy drink, and sank deeper into the bathwater.
When the water was beginning to get cold, Tisamenos got out first, and dried himself with white linen, then dressed in a soft white robe. Silvius did so too, and for the first time Tisamenos saw how alike they were. They both had the weight of expectation and family on them; they both were trying to make their own way in the new world. He smiled at the Italian, and Silvius returned it.
Wondering if Elissa had also been treated so well, and thinking that she probably had, Tisamenos led the way to the deck, where waiting for them was a veiled figure in a dark blue robe tinged with gold.
The figure spun round elegantly, performing arabesques, and laughingly came to a stop before the two boys.
The veil was torn off by a hand, and there, grinning, was Elissa. Gone was the determined expression, and in its place was a relaxed, happy smile. She seemed so at ease among the traders. ‘Not bad, don’t you think?’ she said. Tisamenos thought it was better than that. ‘Now we feast!’
Tisamenos sat awkwardly cross-legged under the stars on a rich silk cushion whilst flutes and a strange stringed instrument he’d never heard before played quietly. Elissa, who’d been picking up words and phrases with ease, was chattering, playing dice, and drinking wine and eating fruits that had been kept cool in ice. He was happy just to sit and listen, and sometimes Elissa would turn to him and explain what she was talking about.
Tisamenos picked up the stringed instrument from its player and began to strum it. But the only sounds he could make were melancholy, so he put it aside. Elissa all the time was talking excitedly to the traders, hearing about what had happened in Tyre since her aunt Dido had left, and whether they traded with Carthage, and what news there was from there. She could hardly stop moving about, dancing from one foot to the other.
Tisamenos soon fell asleep where he was sitting, to the sound of Elissa as she continued chattering throughout the night.
As they journeyed over the days that followed, Tisamenos avoided talking about what lay ahead of them, and there seemed to be an unspoken agreement with the others to do the same. Instead, he simply enjoyed the unusual sights of the ship and the cargo it carried. Reams of beautifully coloured silks, and spices that made his tongue tingle.
A few days into the journey, Batnoam told them that they would be approaching Euboeae on the morning of the next day.
Tisamenos called Silvius and Elissa together. They had both been bronzed by the sun, and seemed happier than he’d ever seen them. He tried to hide his own feelings as best as he could.
‘We need to plan,’ he said. The sea was bright all around them, white breakers appearing and disappearing.
‘We’ll find news when we reach land,’ Elissa said. ‘We need to get back to Aeneas.’
‘To my father,’ said Silvius. ‘If he is still alive …’
Early the next morning, the port of Histiaea on the island of Euboeae came into view. Tisamenos went below deck, and changed from his soft white robe back into his tunic, once fine, now stained. Then he examined his weapons.
The Last Gorgon’s head was sitting waiting. And now he picked it up again, and felt the same thrill of horror and power.
Tisamenos was glad to feel Achaean soil under his feet once more. Here the stones knew him, here he could talk to them and not go mad. He went down onto his haunches and touched the earth, and hearing the voices of the stones, he was both comforted and alarmed. They were quiet and gentle, but he could make out a word that kept returning. ‘Father … father … father …’
His father. Perhaps they were telling him that he was really dead. He stood up slowly, and let the rich loam fall from his hand.
The Phoenicians, after taking on provisions, would sail later that day. They said their goodbyes. Elissa hugged all of the sailors in turn, who pinched her cheek and made many promises to see her again. Batnoam grinned at Tisamenos when he shook his hand, but there was a look in his eyes that said, Be careful, my friends, and may the gods go with you.
‘Who’s going to get news?’ Tisamenos asked when the three of them were sitting alone by the harbour, backs against a low wall.
‘I’ll do it,’ said Silvius. ‘I’ll attract the least attention.’
‘He’s right,’ said Elissa. ‘A blond-haired stone-handed boy is going to get people talking. And I’m a girl, and how many girl Phoenician traders have you seen?’
Silvius darted off.
Tisamenos and Elissa waited for him by the harbour, whilst the business of the port went on around them. Some merchants were unloading timber, and one of the captains was having a long argument with the harbour master which ended with him walking away, throwing his hands up.
Tisamenos watched Elissa, her quick movements, her eyes that lit up when they caught his. He took her hand gently, and said, ‘I meant it. I will go with you, wherever you go after all this has finished.’
‘I want to see Carthage, and Phoenicia. I want to know more about my mother. I know you will come with me.’ She squeezed his hand, and they sat, not speaking, but leaning in to each other, until Silvius reappeared, and they sprang apart.
‘I’m sorry, Tisamenos,’ he said. He looked dejected, head bowed, shading his eyes from the sun. ‘There is news from Mykenai … it has fallen to Argos.’
Tisamenos had guessed this, but hearing it confirmed was a blow. He would not be welcome in his home city now. He was an exile once more. ‘And my father?’
Silvius shook his head. ‘There is no sign of him.’
Then he was dead. If he was alive, there would be someone who had heard of him, drawing up an army with him at the head to retake his city. Orestes would not go down without a fight.
The loss of his father hit him deeply, and he turned away from the others, letting his body heave with sobs. He allowed Elissa to comfort him, finding warmth in her soft touch.
There was only one thing left, now, for him. Python, and his destruction. The thought filled him with a cold kind of resolution, and he stopped his tears.
‘What more news? What of Python?’
‘In Italia, they say, a great army of the Enemy has taken the northern cities. Lavinium still stands, but the army encroaches. We must hurry back.’
‘We can’t rely on the ships of Orestes now. And I cannot go to Argos and ask them for help,’ said Tisamenos. ‘They’ll kill me as soon as look at me.’ He hoped that Penthilos was safe.
And so, dejected, they went back to the port. But none of the ships’ captains was heading to Italia, and between them they had not enough goods to buy passage or commandeer a ship; not even Silvius’s amulet could persuade.
The day was reaching the midpoint, and they filled their bellies with bread and olives from the tavern using one of the silver coins.
Tisamenos was turning everything over in his mind, trying to see a way out for them. Looking at Silvius reminded him of Troy, and then he thought of Achilleos, the great warrior, and then his mother Hermione, and the necklace she’d been wearing from the Thessalian king.
Thessaly. It hit him like a bolt of lightning from the Skyfather. ‘We have a guest friendship with the Phthians, north of here in Thessaly. Neoptolemos, the son of Achilleos, still rules there, I believe. We are not so far from there by sea. If we go there, he is bound to help us reach Italia.’
‘But it’s in the wrong direction! And how long will it take? What if Lavinium is attacked and destroyed? What do we do then?’ Silvius’s voice was cracking a little. Tisamenos knew what he was fearing: the loss of his father.
‘Your father is a good leader, isn’t he?’ said Tisamenos. ‘He is prepared for this danger. We can only hope.’
‘I know Aeneas,’ said Elissa, firmly. ‘He’s survived so much already. He’ll do everything he can to defend the city and your family.’
‘We will go to Neoptolemos and tell him what is happening. He will call other kings to join him, and we can gather an army together and attack Python from behind. We’ll have to march overland. And …’ Tisamenos paused. He owed it to Silvius to be honest. ‘Hope that your father doesn’t fall to him from the south.’
‘It’s the only way,’ whispered Silvius. Resolved, he stood firm, eyes glinting with purpose. ‘We will do it.’
Tisamenos found a small skiff that was sailing north to Phthia, and booked passage on it. The boat was leaving at dawn the next morning. They decided to sleep under the spreading branches of an oak tree. Elissa placed her bow carefully underneath her head, whilst Silvius cradled the quiver. Tisamenos went to sleep with his hand tightly around the neck of the sack.
He woke every time he thought he heard movement. Once he saw a squirrel scampering away from them. Another time he opened his eyes to see a fox regarding him with implacable blue eyes.
All too soon it was dawn. Before the sun was fully above the horizon, they were all in the stern of the skiff, moving at a steady pace to the city of Achilleos.
Tisamenos searched for dolphins, but none played around the bow. Elissa tried to engage the skipper in conversation. He was a fat, lazy man with crooked yellow teeth, and he deflected her questions with nods and grunts. So Tisamenos watched the sea in silence, and soon even Elissa stopped trying.
They landed in the full heat of mid-morning. A haze glimmered in the sky. Ahead of them was a wide, fertile plain, a herd of horses galloping in the distance. It was a lush, rich landscape of a kind Tisamenos had not seen before. He had heard of the grasslands of Thessaly, and the famous horses that were meant to be bred by the North Wind. Watching them vanish into the horizon, he felt a thrill.
‘How far is the city?’ asked Silvius.
‘I don’t know. But we Achaeans never build our cities that far from the sea. We will go inland.’
The shoreline became grass very quickly, and there was only a narrow road, barely paved, leading away from it. The skipper simply shrugged and pointed, as if the way was obvious, and then carried on with his own business.
They had only been walking for a short while when they heard the sound of tramping feet coming towards them. Regular beats, like a group of soldiers marching.
Suddenly, they were facing a patrol of armed men. Tisamenos counted six of them, in full armour, carrying spears and shields, with swords at their waists. They were tall and strong, and the three of them were no match.
‘What business do you have here?’ barked the commander, bringing his men to a halt behind him.
‘We come to seek Neoptolemos,’ answered Tisamenos.
‘Neoptolemos is dead, this long time,’ continued the commander. In a sudden flurry, the six guards surrounded them, spears pointing. ‘And you will come with us.’ The impulse to use the Last Gorgon’s head was strong. But Hermes had told him not to do so. They would have to march with these men, and perhaps whoever was king now would help them.
‘We will go with you to the kinghouse,’ said Tisamenos, in as regal a manner as he could, and he was pleased to see the men glance at each other in surprise.
The heat was making them sweat as they marched. He caught a defiant look in Elissa’s eye, and warned her with a quiet gesture that now was not the time to bring out the Arrow and the Bow. She agreed, with a little nod.
Soon a city rose up in front of them on the grassy plain, encircled with a white wall. Many soldiers stood watching from the ramparts, and as they were herded through the broad, pleasant streets, lined with white houses of two or more storeys, they saw many soldiers at work.
Tisamenos’s heart was sinking. They could not afford to waste time here. They would probably be taken prisoner, until they could get a message through to Aeneas and maybe ransom Silvius. But by then it would be too late.
Nobody gave them a second look.
They reached a large stone hall, were pushed into a wide antechamber hung with tapestries, and left with a guard. They sat on a hard wooden bench, a table laid with cool bronze jugs filled with clear water by them, and a plate of soft goat’s cheeses, which they fell upon eagerly.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Tisamenos when the men had gone. ‘This was a mistake. I should have listened to you, Silvius.’ He felt dejected.
‘It’s not your fault,’ said Silvius. Tisamenos looked gratefully at him.
‘We’ll find a way,’ said Elissa. ‘We got out of the Underworld. We’ll get out of here.’
They would, thought Tisamenos. They would find a way, even if he had to use the Last Gorgon’s head.
After a long while, there was the sound of footsteps, and the door to their room opened. Two men entered, engaged deeply in conversation. Tisamenos looked up at them. And then his heart began to race.
For a moment, he couldn’t be sure.
One of the men was darker skinned, and had long black hair. He wore the long robes favoured by the Trojans. He was handsome, and he had a long nose and a thin face, with dark eyes flashing kindly, and he bore the white bands of a priest in his hair.
The other was taller, and limping slightly, looking at Tisamenos with an expression that he knew so well.
All of a sudden Tisamenos hurled himself at the man, and was embracing him and crying for joy, saying, ‘You’re alive, you’re alive!’ He was overwhelmed, and clung to him.
‘My son,’ Orestes whispered, ‘my son. You are so changed …’
After a while, they came apart.
‘I came to the right place! The Fates were with me!’ Tisamenos was exulting. Everything seemed brighter.
‘We have much to discuss,’ said Orestes. Tisamenos saw his father looking at him with both respect and love. He indicated the man with him. ‘This is Helenus.’
‘Helenus?’ Now Silvius could not contain his excitement. ‘The Trojan priest? My father’s cousin?’
‘I am indeed,’ answered Helenus, smiling broadly. ‘You must be Silvius. Your father is very anxious about you. I will send word to him immediately.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘When you left Lavinium your father dispatched messengers to wherever he could to track your whereabouts. Of course the first place he thought of was here.’
‘But how did you get here? And what happened to Neoptolemos?’ asked Tisamenos.
Orestes said, ‘My son, Neoptolemos died some while ago. You know he had been married to your mother, Hermione? I reclaimed her from him, as we had been betrothed first. And when Neoptolemos died, his kingdom was split up, some given to Helenus here.’
‘A Trojan prince, now ruling in Achaea,’ said Helenus. ‘You see how everything changes, and everything is reborn.’
Everything, thought Tisamenos. Then maybe there is hope for me, and hope for Mykenai.
‘But we can’t rest,’ Silvius was adamant. ‘Python’s army is massing. My father—’
‘Is holding out still,’ interrupted Helenus. ‘He has all the armies of the south with him, and those who managed to flee Python. There has been no skirmish in recent days. We think that Python is massing for a major attack.’
‘So we have to go there now,’ said Silvius. ‘We have the Bow and Arrow of Apollo.’
Silvius showed them the quiver, and Elissa, with great seriousness, displayed the Bow so that they could admire it.
Tisamenos knew that he should tell them about the Gorgon’s head. Reluctantly he told his father he had it.
Orestes looked sharply at him. ‘My poor son … Such a weapon. We must guard it carefully.’
‘No,’ said Tisamenos. ‘I will keep it. Until I have to use it.’
‘You have undergone great hardship,’ said Helenus. He touched each of their faces in turn with his long, thin fingers. ‘And we will go to Italia. Come with me.’
