The Firebrand

CHAPTER 5

Since the battle when five of the Akhaian ships had been burnt to the waterline and others greatly damaged, the Akhaians had drawn their blockade so tight that—as Hector said - a crab could not crawl into the city. For that reason, Aeneas made no attempt to get Creusa away by sea; she was sent in a cart around to the landward side, and along the coast for many miles past the blockade, where a ship would take her first to Egypt and then to Crete. Kassandra watched her depart, and thought that if Priam had any sense he would order all the women and children out of the city. However, she said nothing; she had done her best to give warning.

Even the landward side of the city was no longer completely safe. A wagonload of iron weapons from Colchis was intercepted and brought into the Argive camp with great celebration. Soon after, a small army of Thracians, coming overland to join Priam's forces, was waylaid by Akhaian captains—rumour said by Agamemnon and Odysseus themselves - and all the horses stolen, and the Thracian guards murdered.

"This isn't war," Hector said,"this is an atrocity. The Thracians were not yet part of Troy's armies and Agamemnon had no quarrel with them."

"And now he never will have," said Paris cynically.

This touched off another attack by the Akhaians, led by Patroklos, who again climbed the walls at the head of his own men; the Trojans managed to repel them, and Patroklos was reported wounded, although not seriously.

At Kassandra's earnest petition, the people of the Sunlord's house built an altar, and sacrificed two of Priam's finest horses to Poseidon. Another earthquake could pull down every wall and gate of Troy and leave the city open to the besieging forces of the Akhaians. This was now Kassandra's only fear; she knew it must come, but if the Trojans put all their efforts into the placating of Poseidon, he might still hold his hand.

The Akhaians forces fought without their greatest warrior;

Akhilles still remained in his tent. Now and again he would come forth - not dressed for battle - and walk about the camp, morosely alone or in company with Patroklos, but what they talked of, no one could say. Rumours brought by spies said that Agamemnon had gone to Akhilles and offered him his first choice of all the city's spoils for himself and his men, but Akhilles had answered only that he no longer trusted any offer Agamemnon might make.

"Can't blame him," Hector said. "I wouldn't trust Agamemnon as far as I could heave him with one thumb. Damned convenient for us, though, this quarrel in the enemy camp; while they're, fighting each other, we have time to repair our walls and get our defenses together. If they ever make it up, and decide to work together, then God help Troy."

"Which God?" Priam asked.

"Any God they haven't already bribed to be on their side," Hector said. "Suppose Aeneas and I got into some sort of fight, and refused to work together?"

"I hope that we never find out," Aeneas said. "For I suspect on that day we would have doomed ourselves more quickly than the Gods could doom us."

Priam pushed restlessly at his plate, on which was only a sparse assortment of vegetables and some coarse bread.

"Perhaps we might arrange a hunt on the landward side," he said. "I would be glad of some venison or even rabbit."

"I had not thought I would hear you say that, Father; for so long we were glutted with meat when the goats had to be slaughtered for lack of fodder; we kept only a few for milk for the smallest children," Hector said. "The pigs can eat what is left from the tables, and there are still some acorns in the groves; but now there is little left. Perhaps we can hunt—"

"I think the pigs should be killed too," said Deiphobos. "This winter we will need the acorns for bread; we should set all the young people who are not old enough to fight to gathering them and laying them away. It will be a hungry winter, whatever we do or do not do."

"What is being done in the Sunlord's House?" asked Aeneas. You sit there so still and wise, Kassandra, what says Apollo's wisdom?"

"It does not matter what you do," Kassandra spoke without thinking. "By winter Troy will have no more need of food."

Paris took one great stride toward her. He roared, "I warned you, Sister, what I would do if you came here again peddling your evil news!"

Aeneas caught his arm in mid-swing.

"Strike someone your own size," he snarled, "or strike at me, for I asked the question which prompted the answer you do not want to hear!" He added gently, "Is it so bad, Kassandra?"

"I do not know," she said, staring helplessly at them. "It might even be that the Akhaians will be gone, and there will be no more need to hoard food—"

"But you do not think so," he said.

She shook her head; they were all staring at her now. "But things will not go on as they are now for long, that I know. A change will come very soon."

It was growing late; Aeneas rose. "I will go and sleep in the camp with the soldiers," he said,"since my wife and children have gone."

Hector said, "I suppose I should send away Andromache and the boy, if there is so much danger here."

Paris said, "Now you see why I feel that Kassandra should be silenced at any cost; she is spreading so much hopelessness inside Troy that before we know it all the women will have gone; and then what are we to fight for?"

"No," Helen said, "I will not go; for better or worse I have come to Troy and there is no longer any other refuge for me. I will remain at Paris's side as long as we both live."

"And I," said Andromache. "Where Hector has courage to remain, there will I remain at his side. And where I remain, my son will remain."

Kassandra, remembering that Andromache had been reared for a warrior, thought that perhaps Imandra would be proud of her daughter after all. I wish I had her courage, she thought, then remembered that Andromache did not know what lay before them. Perhaps it was easier to have courage when you could still believe that what you feared would not come to pass. In her ears were the thunders of Poseidon, and she could hardly see across the room for the fires which seemed to rise.

Yet the room was quiet and cool, and all the faces surrounding her were kind and loving. How much longer would she have them round her? Already she had lost Creusa; who would be the next?

She knew she should stay inside the Sunlord's house; but she could not keep away from the palace, and every day she watched with the other women from the wall, so that she was one of the first to see the people exploding into the spaces between the houses so swiftly that for a moment she wondered if it was another earthquake. Then the cry went up.

"Akhilles! It is the chariot of Akhilles!"

Hector swore violently and ran up the stairs to the lookout point on the walls.

"Akhilles has come back? The worst news we could have - or is it the best?" he said roughly, hastening to where the women stood watching. "Yes, right enough, that is his chariot—" and he shaded his eyes with his hand. Then he turned away, scowling.

"By the Battle-God! That is not Akhilles, but somebody else wearing his armor! Akhilles's shoulders are twice that wide! Maybe that boy friend of his. The armor doesn't even fit him. In the name of Ares, what is he playing at? Does he really think he can deceive anyone who has ever seen Akhilles fight?"

"I suppose it is a ruse to hearten Akhilles's men," said his charioteer, young Troilus.

Hector said, "Whatever it is, we'll make short work of him. I might hesitate to face Akhilles, even on a propitious day; but the day never dawned when I would be afraid to face Patroklos; perhaps, youngster, I should put my armor on you and set you in my chariot and send you out to take him on."

"I will do it gladly if you will allow it," said the boy eagerly, and Hector laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "I dare say you would, lad; but don't underestimate Patroklos as much as that. He is not at all a bad fighter; not in my class or Akhilles's it's true, but you're not ready for him yet; not this year and probably not next year either."

He called his armorer who came and strapped on his best armor, then they heard the creaking of the gate as Hector rode out.

"This frightens me," Andromache said, hurrying to the best vantage point for watching. "Great Mother, how that wretched boy drives his chariot! Has Hector taught him neither caution nor good sense? They will both be flung out in a moment!"

The two chariots rushed together like rutting stags coming together in the height of the season. Troilus was kept busy with the Myrmidons who rushed against the chariot. He fought one after another back while Hector awaited the champion. Then he sprang out along the axle of the chariot, leaving Troilus to defend it, and faced the man decked in the brilliant gold-decorated armor of Akhilles.

Hector's sword swung up to meet the Akhaian, who rushed at him, swinging. One swift step and Patroklos was down; but as Hector rushed in to finish him off, the youth scrambled up as if the heavy armor were a feathered cloak and backed away. The men exchanged a flurry of blows so rapid that Kassandra could not see that either of them had the least advantage. A small shriek from Andromache told her that her husband had taken a wound; but when she looked she saw that Hector had recovered himself at once and was thrusting violently enough that Patroklos was retreating toward his chariot. His sword drove hard into the place where the armor met the arm-piece; then came free in a shower of blood. Patroklos staggered back; one of the Myrmidons caught him around his waist and lifted him bodily into the chariot; he was still standing, but swaying and white-faced. His charioteer - or was it Akhilles's charioteer?—slapped at the horses and they galloped back toward the beach and the Akhaian tents with Hector in hot pursuit.

Troilus loosed an arrow which struck the leg of Patroklos, who lost his balance and fell; only the quick grab of the charioteer kept him from being flung out of the chariot. Hector waved to Troilus to abandon the pursuit; Patroklos was either dead or wounded so gravely that it was only a matter of time before he died. Hector's chariot turned back toward Troy. Andromache started to dash down the stairs as she heard the creaking of the ropes that opened the great gate, but Kassandra held her back and they waited until Hector came up the stairs. His arms-bearer came and began to help him out of his armor, but Andromache took his place.

"You're wounded!"

"Nothing serious, I assure you, my dear," Hector said. "I've had worse wounds in play on the field." There was a long gash in his forearm, which had not injured the tendon. It could be dealt with by cleansing with wine and oil and a tight bandage. Andromache, not waiting for a healer, began at once to care for it, and asked, "Did you kill him?"

"I'm not sure whether he's dead yet, but I assure you, nobody really ever recovers from a thrust to the lungs like that one," Hector said, and almost at the same minute they heard a noise from the Akhaian camp; a great howl of rage, and grief.

"He's dead," Hector said. "That's one in the eye for Akhilles, at least."

"Look," said Troilus,"there he is himself."

It was indeed Akhilles himself; wearing only a loincloth, his great shoulders bare and his long pale hair flying. He strode from his tent and toward the walls of Troy. Just out of bowshot he paused and, raising his clenched fist, shook it at the walls. He shouted something, lost in the distance.

"What did he say, I wonder?" Hector asked.

Paris, who was unarming close by, said: "I suppose some version of 'Hector, son of Priam - with a few choice remarks about your ancestry and progeny - come down here and let me kill you ten times over!"

"Or, more likely, ten thousand times," agreed Hector. "I-couldn't quite make out the words, but the tune is clear enough."

"So now," said Paris,"shall we celebrate?"

"No," Hector said soberly, "I do not rejoice; he was a brave man and, I think, an honorable one. He may have been the only one to keep Akhilles's insanity within bounds. I am sure that the war will go the worse because he is no longer among them."

"I can't understand you," Paris said. "We've done away with a great warrior, and you're not delighted. If I'd killed him, I'd be ready to declare a holiday and a feast."

"Oh, if all you want is a feast, I'm sure we can arrange that somehow," Hector said. "I'm sure many will rejoice; but if we kill off the decent and honorable foes among the Akhaians, we will be left to fight the madmen and rogues. I fear no sane man, but Akhilles—that is another matter. I probably mourn Patroklos as much as any man save Akhilles himself."

Aeneas went and looked over the wall. "Where is Akhilles? He's gone—"

"Probably back in his tent trying to get Agamemnon to call off the fighting for a few days of mourning."

"This would be the time to hit them hard," said Paris, "before Akhilles recovers: while they're still disorganized."

Hector shook his head.

"If they ask a truce, we are honor bound to give it," he said. "They gave us a truce to mourn your sons, Paris."

"I didn't ask for it," Paris snarled. "This isn't war, this careful exchange of honors; it's some kind of dance!"

"War is a game with rules like any other," Priam said. "Wasn't it you, Paris, who complained that Agamemnon and Odysseus had broken these rules when they seized the Thracian horses?"

"If we're going to fight," Paris said, "let us try to win; I see no point in exchanging courtesies with a man when I'm trying to kill him and he's doing his best to return the favour."

Both Hector and Aeneas started speaking at once. Priam demanded, "One at a time," and Hector shouted loudest.

"These "courtesies", as you call them, are all that make war an honorable business for civilized men; if we ever stop extending these courtesies to our enemies, war will become no more than a filthy business, run by butchers and the lowest kind of scoundrels."

"And if we are not going to fight," Paris said, "why do we not settle our differences with an archery contest, or games such as boxing and wrestling? It seems to me that competition would make more sense than a war; we are competing for a prize."

"With Helen as the prize? Do you think she would be willing to be the prize in an archery contest?" scoffed Deiphobos.

"Probably not," said Paris, "but women are usually disposed of as prize to someone's greed, and I don't see why it should make so much difference."

It was early the next day when Agamemnon, in the white robes of a herald, came under a peace-flag to Priam's palace, and as a peace-offering brought Hecuba's two waiting-women, Kara and Adrea, who had been taken from Kassandra when she entered the city. Then Agamemnon asked Priam, in honor of the dead, to grant a seven days' truce because Akhilles wished to hold funeral games to honor his friend.

"Prizes will be given," he said, "and the men of Troy are welcome to compete and will be considered for prizes on even terms with our own people." He added after a moment that Priam would be welcome to judge any contests for which he felt qualified—chariot racing perhaps, or archery. Priam thanked him gravely, and offered a bull as a sacrifice to Zeus Thunderer, and a metal cauldron as a prize for the wrestling.

After Agamemnon had soberly accepted the gifts and gone away with courteous expressions of esteem, Paris asked disgustedly:

"I suppose you're going to compete in this farce, Hector?"

"Why not? Patroklos's ghost won't begrudge me a cauldron or a cup, or a good bellyful at his funeral feast. He and I have no more quarrels now; and if I'm killed at the final sack of Troy, if there is one, we'll have something to talk about in the after-world."