‘He spouts lies straight from Menelaus!’ Paris launched to his feet, then turned to his father. ‘You know how Helen was treated in that brutal place. The Greeks want nothing but to tear down our great city and pillage the spoils of our wealth for themselves.’
Murmurs of assent rippled through the crowd. Queen Hecuba and Princess Andromache shared a glance, their mouths drawn tight.
While Paris spoke, Danae noticed Odysseus retreat behind the other Greek generals. She was reminded of Metis laying her lizard traps on Delos.
‘My cousin, Agamemnon, is a reasonable –’ Palamedes began.
But Paris would not let him finish. ‘Agamemnon is a butcher, and Menelaus brutalizes women for sport. All Greeks are barbarians. We should burn them on Ares’ altar and pour their blood in libation to the God of War!’
Inflamed by his words, several courtiers lunged at the Greeks, throwing themselves into the row of guards. Danae spun around as a man darted between the soldiers and barrelled towards her. Before she could act, Hylas was in front of her, pushing the Trojan back with his crutch.
‘We claimedxenia!’ cried Nestor. ‘You cannot defy the laws of Zeus!’
‘Enough!’ At the sound of their king’s voice, the Trojans grew still.
King Priam rose to his feet, glaring at the Greeks.
‘I will speak with my councillors, and we will reconvene at dawn.’
Once more the gathered courtiers raised their voices,forcing the old man to shout over them, ‘Do you defy your king?’
At that the room quietened. Danae shared a look with Odysseus.
Then an elderly man, leaning heavily on a staff of twisted oak, emerged from the cluster of courtiers. He bowed his grey head to the dais.
‘I, Antenor, offer my home tonight to the Greeks.’ He glared at his fellow Trojans. ‘I, for one, still honour the laws of hospitality.’
‘So be it, until tomorrow,’ said King Priam. ‘Now get them out of my sight.’
44. Honoured Guests
Antenor lived not far from the palace in an imposing, two-storey house constructed from the same polished yellow stone as Troy’s great walls. On the lower level, sky-blue pillars flanked an oak doorway stained red with lacquer, loomed over by small, square windows cut into the bricks like sunken eyes. Odysseus helped Antenor heave open the heavy doors, and the Greek envoy entered the spacious dwelling, while two palace guards positioned themselves outside, another pair heading to watch the street at the rear. Inside, the entrance hall was warm and smelt faintly of smoke and spice.
The Trojan councillor closed his front door with a sigh, resting a gnarled hand upon the wood.
‘I apologize for the inhospitable welcome to my city. The threat of war has made people forget the expectations placed on us by the gods.’
‘You have nothing to be sorry for,’ said Nestor.
Antenor smiled as he propped his staff beside the door. ‘Come, warm yourself by my hearth. I have many sons, but none now live under my roof, so there are rooms for all.’ He raised his voice, ‘Theano, my dear, we have visitors!’
A white-haired woman draped in a fine green dress appeared in the stone corridor. She stopped still at the sight of the strangers in her home, her eyes roving over their faces, their clothing.
‘Who are these people?’
‘Visitors to our city.’
Theano bristled. ‘They’re the Greeks, aren’t they?’
Antenor looked surprised at her guess.
‘Trust you to bring them to our house,’ she hissed through her teeth. ‘I’ve heard talk of nothing else all afternoon but the arrival of the enemy at our gate, and now they are under my roof!’
‘They are guests of our king, we are honoured to receive them.’
Theano glared at her husband.
‘My lady,’ said Nestor. ‘We are indeed amongst those who have besieged your shore and caused your city much grief. But we have come to you in peace with the hope of convincing Priam to return Argive Helen, so that no Trojan blood may be spilt. It is our dearest wish to sail back across the wine-dark sea and trouble your land no more.’
