Finally, when she could wait no longer, she eased open the door. Odysseus’ Ithacan soldiers stood like sentries outside the room. She lifted a finger to her lips as she emerged. They remained silent but moved to follow her as she stepped out into the corridor.
She shook her head and whispered, ‘You must stay here.’
The man on the left inclined his head. ‘Begging your pardon, my lady, but you are the last daughter. We go where you go.’
Wrapped in the shadows of the pillared passage, for the first time she saw them not as Odysseus’ servants, or Ithacan soldiers, but men who would lay down their lives for her destiny. Just like Manto had done.
‘What are your names?’
The guard who had spoken replied, ‘Sinon, my lady, and this is Evenor.’
Danae nodded. ‘I thank you for your service, Sinon andEvenor, but I order you to remain here. If the palace guards pass by, they must think I am abed like the rest of the household. I’m sure you have your instructions from Odysseus, but no harm will come to me, I swear it.’
They glanced at one another, conflict raging between them, then both bowed their heads.
‘As you command,’ said Sinon, and the pair stepped back to flank her chamber door.
Danae’s feet whispered along the corridor that led to Achilles’ chamber. Darkness stretched between the brazier lights spilling across the faded frescos. Earlier, Odysseus had told her which room belonged to the best of the Greeks. How he had come by that information she did not know.
At the sound of footsteps, she flattened herself to the wall, sinking into the darkness behind a pillar. The last thing she wanted was for Lycomedes to suspect foul play.
A moment later, two guards walked by, spears in their hands. Only when they turned the corner did breath return to her lungs.
When she reached Achilles’ chamber she paused before knocking softly on the wood.
After a few moments, it opened to reveal the Myrmidon who’d sat next to Achilles at the feast. He stood barefoot, wrapped in nothing but a leather kilt, his skin gleaming with sweat.
His eyes swept over her with barely veiled disdain. ‘What do you want, Seer?’
‘Who is it, Patroclus?’ Achilles’ voice sounded from inside.
Patroclus’ jaw tightened. ‘Odysseus’ seer.’
She glanced down the corridor, pulse quickening as she waited for a glint of bronze to appear.
‘Let her in,’ called Achilles.
For a moment, it seemed as though Patroclus would disobey his captain. Then he stepped back, and Danae swiftly slipped into the room.
The air was sweet with the scent of fresh flowers and brazier smoke. A great bundle of blooms was arranged in a painted vase on a low table in the centre of the chamber, and a grand bed carved from dark wood dominated the far wall. Achilles lounged upon it, naked but for a cloth draped over himself.
‘Leave us,’ Danae said to Patroclus.
He did not move.
Achilles nodded his consent, but Patroclus lingered. The best of the Greeks rolled his eyes.
‘Go.’
Patroclus’ brow darkened, his eyes raking over Danae as if scanning her for a hidden weapon. Then he bowed to his captain and left them alone, shutting the door behind him.
‘You must forgive Patroclus. He’s very protective.’ Achilles propped himself on his elbow.
‘Where’s your wife?’
Achilles blinked. ‘Asleep in her chamber. Not that it’s any of your concern, seer.’
‘Why marry her, if you would rather spend your wedding night with one of your soldiers?’
