Steep Wilusiya (Age of Bronze) (36 page)

Below the palace, Alakshándu called to his sons, "Now send word to the Ak'áyan camp.  If those dogs want their champion's corpse, they must return every prize taken from the people of Tróya, including the treasures given for Qántili."  The populace roared its approval.  Once his drive around the city with the famous corpse was done, Paqúr strode to the great southeastern gate.  "I will be the one to go to these godless Ak'áyans," he announced with pride.  Again the people shouted in agreement.

But Antánor stopped him, his robes damp with sweat.  "Listen, brother-in-law, you are too well known and too hated.  The Ak'áyans will not let you live, even if you go under the symbol of peace.  Those impious dáimons do not honor the laurel branches.  Dapashánda told us that, remember?  Let me go instead.  None but Meneláwo and Odushéyu know me.  And I have had more experience with negotiations than you."

Paqúr bowed out.  "You are right.  My sister, Laqíqepa, is lucky her father chose such a wise husband."

Young Dapashánda stepped forward, his arm still swollen but now unbandaged.  "I will come too, brother-in-law.  You will need someone to protect you, no matter how good your bargaining skills are."

Ainyáh laid a hand on Dapashánda's shoulder.  "He will need protection, but not from you.  Your wound has not yet healed.  I will go."

Alakshándu watched with narrowing eyes as his sons spoke with his sons-in-law.  "Take a priest with you," the king said suddenly, his voice guarded in spite of the glorious moment.  "Let my son, Érinu, carry the laurel boughs in front of you."  He would not be persuaded to change his mind, either.  "It is most fitting that the news of Ak'illéyu's death should reach the Ak'áyan camp with one of my sons."

Watching them go, Alakshándu spoke quietly to Paqúr.  "I suspect treachery.  Antánor's father always thought he should have been king instead of me.  I expected to gain Antánor's loyalty by marrying him to my oldest daughter.  But I still do not trust him, not entirely."

The prince nodded, despite his surprise.  "But Ainyáh is a good soldier.  He married Kréyusa for love, not for status.  With his son still young, he will not betray us."

"Perhaps, but a soldier's wits are not always a match for those of a cunning traitor," Alakshándu said.  "That is why I sent your brother along.  Érinu will let us know if anything is going on.  He has the divine wisdom of lord Apúluno on his side."

Paqúr nodded again.  "I will have Antánor watched when he returns, just to be safe."  When his father agreed, the prince continued, "As for Ainyáh, I doubt that he is a danger to us.  But it might be a good idea to have him killed on the battlefield, in the next fight, just the same.  Mercenaries are always a potential threat.  Even if he is loyal in this war, he could easily betray our secrets in the next."

Alakshándu smiled.  "Good thinking, my son.  You will make a fine king some day.  We will bring Wilúsiya through this war yet, you and I."

aaa

In Agamémnon's tent, grim negotiations began over an early meal.  "Return Ariyádna and her treasures now, along with Ak'illéyu's body, and we will gladly go home in our ships," Agamémnon told the Tróyan envoys.

Antánor responded, "Return the treasures that my king brought you to ransom Qántili’s body and we will give you Ak'illéyu's corpse in exchange.  Return our princess Ishqíyanna to us and then we will hand over your 'Elléniyan woman."

"Nonsense!  Ishqíyanna's sons have already begotten sons in Ak'áiwiya," the high wánaks cried indignantly.  "How dare you demand her return at this late date!"

"How do you know the 'Elléniyan woman has not yet given Paqúr a son?" Antánor countered calmly.

From his seat by his fire, Agamémnon slammed a fist to the ground, raising dust.  "It is a good thing my brother is not here.  Meneláwo would slit your throat for that!"

Antánor smiled.  "As long as we are speaking of those who are absent, it is a shame that Odushéyu is not here.  He could tell you whether Paqúr's captive is pregnant or not.  He has seen her."

This took Agamémnon by surprise and he was speechless for a moment.  "Diwoméde," he roared as he remembered the It'ákan's feat the night before.  "Send for Odushéyu."  After a moment's consideration, he added, "And Aíwaks.  He is the closest to a kinsman of Ak'illéyu that we have here.  Let him provide a ransom for the madman's body if he likes."

While they waited for the two lawagétas to appear, the high wánaks and the counselor drank watered wine and eyed each other searchingly.  Érinu was troubled, but he could not read the faces of his brothers-in-law or those of his enemies.

Odushéyu came with a small bundle wrapped in dirty fleece.  "You wanted to see me, high wánaks?" he said with exaggerated politeness.

"Have a seat," Agamémnon growled, gesturing toward the opposite side of his tent.

The It'ákan made a great show of laying his bundle carefully on the ground, brushing aside ashes and bread crumbs.  He repositioned the sheepskin wrapping and held out a hand to receive a wine cup from 'Ékamede.  "Wánaks, I am surprised at you," the pirate king said, “bargaining with the Tróyans without your wisest councilor."

Agamémnon sneered.  "Néstor is holding vigil by his son's body."

Odushéyu's face turned to stone.  "I meant myself."

Antánor smiled.

Aíwaks came more slowly, his hair covered with fresh dirt from grieving, his nose still oozing blood from the morning's combat.  "What is going on here?" he asked, breathlessly, his hand at his hip.

Ainyáh touched the hilt of his own dagger and began to rise.  But the Ak'áyan overlord stood, holding up both his hands, the palms out.  "Peace, peace.  These men have come under the laurel branches to negotiate a ransom for Ak'illéyu's body."

Aíwaks kept his hand on his knife.  "I ought to slit their throats right here.  That is a good enough ransom."

This time Ainyáh rose and drew his blade, menacing the big man.

The high wánaks stepped between the two warriors.  "Put down your weapons, both of you," he demanded irritably.

Antánor was surprised.  "Your king is a brave man," the Tróyan counselor marveled to the pirate beside him.

Odushéyu nodded, just as astonished.  "Yes!  Aíwaks could take him in a moment."  But as he spoke, the tall man backed down, returning his dagger to its sheath.

Érinu raised his dry branch, somewhat anxiously.  "We came under the sign of the god to negotiate with you,” he reminded them all.  “M-My king offers you Ak'illéyu's body in return for all you have taken from the people of Wilúsiya."

Antánor waved impatiently at the young priest.  "Now, now, boy.  That was an exaggeration for the benefit of the commoners.  No need to make such wild statements here."

The young priest frowned.  "Those were his words," he muttered.

Antánor went on smoothly, "Let me handle the discussions, Érinu.  Now, Érinu, you and Ainyáh must go with Aíwaks and get the things Alakshándu once brought to ransom Qántili.  Surely we can at least agree on that as a fit ransom for Ak'illéyu, a hero's ransom for a hero?"  He turned to Agamémnon with a knowing look, glancing aside at Odushéyu.  The high wánaks, too, looked toward Odushéyu, and the pirate nodded slightly.

"Yes, Aíwaks," said the overlord, gesturing toward the tent flap.  "Show them the things Ak'illéyu took for Qántili.  Help them load their wagon."

The big qasiléyu was unhappy and he glared at Ainyáh with special hatred.  But he obeyed his king and led the way to the T'eshalíyan section of the camp.

When they had gone, Antánor lightly touched his beard with the tips of his fingers.  "Now, we can talk freely.  Alakshándu sent me here to negotiate, just as Érinu said.  But Odushéyu has surely told you of our earlier bargain?"

Agamémnon turned to the It'ákan, his jaw tightening with distaste.  "Tell me again, Odushéyu.  I seem to have forgotten the details."

The pirate king leaned back on his elbows and crossed his legs, making a show of how relaxed he was.  "Antánor and Ainyáh have both realized that the Tróyans cannot win.  They will help us take the citadel in return for a guarantee of safety for themselves and their families."

Agamémnon could not keep from turning to look at Antánor in astonishment.

The councilor nodded.  "The loss of the sacred stone has remained a secret, unfortunately.  For that reason, it has not had its expected effect.  The people do not press for peace, believing that the sacred idol still protects them.  And we cannot reveal its loss without admitting our part in its theft.  So, we realize we must do more to enable you to take the fortress.  My plan is this.  Ainyáh and I have decided that we will tell Alakshándu that we have negotiated an end to the war," he told them, his fingers beating a silent rhythm against each other, revealing the excitement that his face and voice hid.  "You hold Ak'illéyu's funeral.  We burn our dead.  Both sides exchange gifts, nothing important, perhaps a few women, just enough to show that friendship has been restored between our two peoples.  You Ak'áyans burn your camp and take your ships out to sea.  The last of our allies will return home and our farmers will go back to their homes outside the citadel.  Tróya will celebrate.  At our signal, your ships will return by night.  Ainyáh will let you in through one of the gates and you will take the fortress."

The Argive wánaks was speechless for some time, staring at the Tróyan.  "How do I know you will not betray me, seal yourselves behind your gates, and send for further reinforcements?  Why should you turn against your own capital city?"

Antánor's eyes grew hard.  "Why should I sit by and watch as the best of Wilúsiya's manhood is killed or maimed in this endless war?  What are we fighting about anyway?  Women!  Ishqíyanna has probably forgotten the names of the Wilúsiyan gods by now.  I cannot even count how many good men have gone down to 'Aidé for this evil mainád from 'Elléniya.  How many more must die before the princes have their fill of battles?  Five hundred?  Ten hundred?  Or ten times ten hundred!”

Agamémnon stood and paced about his tent, stroking his beard, looking from time to time at the visitor.  "You are a councilor.  Why do you not simply advise your king to end the war?"