Troy Read online

  ‘The sheep and cattle will miss you, my boy,’ he had said. ‘And I’ll miss you too. But your place is with your real family.’

  Oenone had been less reasonable. She had shed many tears and made a hysterical scene. Paris felt she could at least have understood his position. He had got his way, however. She and his son were on Mount Ida and he was in the royal palace of Troy. It was how it should be. Meanwhile, Priam was still reciting his endless list of kings, queens, princes and princesses. What possible use was it for Paris to know all the details of these damned royal families and their infernal interrelationships? The knot of Gordium was not more intricate and insoluble.fn71

  ‘And then we move down to Sparta,’ Priam went on, ‘where Agamemnon’s brother now rules with his wife Helen. Their father Tyndareus has –’

  Paris sat up with a jerk and blood rushed to his cheeks. ‘What was that name, father?’

  ‘Hm? Tyndareus? A descendant of Perseus, like Heracles, originally he –’

  ‘No, before that. You said a name …’

  ‘I have said many names,’ said Priam with a sorrowful smile. ‘And I rather hoped that you might remember them all. I have been speaking of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra –’

  ‘No, after that …’

  ‘Menelaus? Helen?’

  ‘Yes …’ Paris’s voice had gone a little husky. He cleared his throat and tried to sound casual. ‘Helen, did you say? Who is she exactly?’

  Priam patiently went through Helen’s pedigree, omitting the story of Leda and the swan. The world had heard rumours of the two eggs that hatched the two sets of twins, but Priam felt no need to endorse mere gossip.

  Paris let his father finish and then cleared his throat again. Inspiration had struck.fn72

  ‘I just had a thought, father,’ he said. ‘That story you told me about Telamon abducting your sister Hesione. During the time of Heracles?’

  ‘What of it?’

  ‘I don’t think it’s right that my aunt should be living in Salamis. She is a Trojan princess. How would it be … No, it’s a mad thought …’

  ‘What is a mad thought?’

  ‘Well, you’re always telling me about diplomatic missions and royal responsibilities and all that,’ said Paris. ‘How would it be if I took a – what’s the word? – an “embassy”, is that it? Or is it a “legation”? One of those. How would it be if I took an embassy, or legation, to Telamon to see if he would be willing to let Hesione come back home? Here to Troy. I mean, you said you’d like to see her again and –’

  ‘My boy! My very dear boy!’ Priam was moved almost to tears.

  ‘Let me take ships to Salamis,’ said Paris, growing in confidence. ‘Ships laden with costly gifts – you know, silks, spices, wine and treasure. I will convey your warm and courteous messages to Telamon and perhaps diplomacy will free my aunt.’

  ‘It is a wonderful idea!’ said Priam. ‘I shall see PHERECLUS at once about putting together a small fleet. You’re a good boy, Paris, and I bless the day you were restored to us.’

  But Paris was not a good boy. He had no intention of sailing to Salamis to negotiate the return of some old aunt for whom he cared nothing. What was Hesione to him, or he to Hesione? Aphrodite had whispered his true destination. Sparta and the promised Helen.

  No, Paris was not a good boy.

  ANCHISES: AN INTERLUDE

  Zeus was angry. Aphrodite had dared to laugh at him. In front of all Olympus. That tinkling and triumphant ripple of a laugh that always set his teeth on edge.

  Zeus was King of the Gods, Lord of the Sky and undisputed Ruler of Olympus. But in common with many leaders he was discomfited by the feeling that everyone, from the muddiest mortal to the most shining divinity, was freer than he was. Less hamstrung, hampered and hedged in. He was confined by treaty, obligation and covenant on the one side and the constant threat of sedition, disobedience and rebellion on the other. The other eleven Olympian gods could do more or less as they wished, especially within the realms over which they had dominion. They acknowledged Zeus as their king, but he knew that they would never allow him to wield the kind of unquestioned individual power that his father Kronos and grandfather Ouranos had exercised as their right. Apollo, Poseidon and the others had dared challenge him in the past, they had even gone as far as binding him in chains, but the one immortal he was most afraid of – more so than of his powerful wife Hera – was Aphrodite.

  The goddess of love, a daughter of the primordial sky god Ouranos – and therefore of an older generation than Zeus and the other Olympians – Aphrodite spent most of her time on her home islands of Cyprus and Cythera.fn73 But the night before, she had dined with the others on Mount Olympus. She had been in a feisty, combative and teasing mood.

  ‘You gods all think you are so strong, so powerful, so invulnerable. You, Poseidon, with your trident and your tidal waves. You, Ares, with your warhorses, spears and swords. You, Apollo, with your arrows. Even you, Zeus, with your thunderbolts and storm clouds. But I am stronger than you all.’

  Zeus frowned. ‘I rule here. No one has power over me.’

  Hera cleared her throat meaningly.

  Zeus took the hint. ‘Unless … unless, that is, I choose to submit to … wiser heads and sounder judgement,’ he amended. ‘As in the case of my dear wife, of course.’

  Hera inclined her head, satisfied.

  But Aphrodite was not to be put off. ‘Admit it,’ she said. ‘I have power over you all. Except Athena, Hestia and Artemis. Those three are immune.’

  ‘Ah. Because of their vow of eternal celibacy,’ said Zeus. ‘You are speaking of love, I suppose.’

  ‘Look what it makes you do! All of you. Every shred of dignity falls away. In the throes of your desire for the most ordinary and worthless mortals you turn yourselves into pigs, goats and bulls – in every way. Anything to chase down the objects of your lust. It’s too funny.’

  ‘You forget who I am.’

  ‘Yes, you can shoot a thunderbolt, yet my son EROS and I shoot something much stronger. A thunderbolt might blast an enemy to atoms, but love’s dart can bring down whole kingdoms and dynasties – even, perhaps one day, your own kingdom and the dynasty of Olympus itself.’

  Aphrodite’s mockery and her irritating peals of silvery laughter were still ringing in Zeus’s ears the next day. He would show her. She underestimated him. She was not the only one with the power to humiliate. Now, he asked himself, what was her weakness?

  Aphrodite’s weakness – one shared by all the gods (Zeus included, although he did not care to acknowledge the fact) – was vanity. She could never receive enough praise, worship or sacrifice. Zeus knew that, in common with Apollo and her lover Ares, she had a special fondness for the city and people of Troy.fn74 It so happened that a festival in Aphrodite’s honour was held at this very time of year at one of her temples on the lower slopes of Mount Ida. She would be sure to attend. Like many of the gods she commonly moved amongst congregants in disguise, eavesdropping on the prayers cast up to her, revelling in the praise and occasionally punishing the blasphemies that fell from the lips of her supplicants.

  Zeus looked down on Mount Ida, searching for a randomly ordinary mortal. His eye fell on a herdsman lying asleep on a grassy bank: a blameless fellow by the name of ANCHISES.fn75

  Zeus sent for Hermes. The messenger of the gods, patron divinity of thieves, rogues and tricksters, cocked his head to listen to his father’s bidding.

  ‘Go to the palace of Eros. Find a way to steal one of his arrows. Then make your way east to the Troad. Once there …’

  Hermes grinned as Zeus outlined his plan. With a flutter of wings from the sandals on his feet, he flew off to obey.

  A few days later, in the foothills of Mount Ida, Aphrodite, in the guise of a country girl, glowed with pleasure as she listened to the prayers of the people moving down the hillside towards her temple. A huge painted image of her, garlanded with flowers, swayed on the shoulders of the crowd as they processed. Behind her
, Hermes was urging Anchises forward.

  ‘I don’t even know you,’ the herdsman was saying. ‘And who is this girl that you claim is in love with me?’

  ‘You’ll thank me when you see her,’ said Hermes.

  Aphrodite turned in annoyance – a figure in the crowd had come too close and something sharp had pricked her side. Her gaze rested on the person standing closest to her, a man with soft brown eyes. She was about to upbraid him when a strange feeling swept over her. What was it about him? The young companion by his side – whose head was bowed and whose features she therefore could not make out – pushed him forward. He stood awkwardly in front of her, his face flushed with embarrassment.

  ‘Who are you?’ asked Aphrodite.

  ‘I … My name is Anchises.’

  ‘Come with me. Come with me now!’ said Aphrodite. Her heart was beating fast and the blood was singing in her ears. She led him away from the procession. Hermes watched them go, a smile spreading across his face.

  In a secluded wood – hidden from but within earshot of the festival procession – Aphrodite and Anchises finished their love-making.

  He looked into her eyes. ‘You know my name,’ he said. ‘May I know yours?’

  She told him.

  He stared. ‘But why me? Why me? Why a mortal?’

  ‘I don’t understand it myself,’ said Aphrodite, tenderly tracing her fingers over Anchises’ face. ‘It is a mystery. I was walking along with the crowd and then I … Oh!’ Suddenly she understood.

  Zeus! It could only be the work of Zeus.

  ‘Who was that young man I saw you with?’

  ‘Just some cattle-drover. He met me on the high pasture and bullied me and bullied me into coming down to join the festival. He said there was a girl there …’

  ‘That would have been Hermes,’ said Aphrodite. She pulled Anchises towards her in a close embrace. ‘He thinks that this is a humiliation for me. I choose to see it as a blessing. I feel your child inside me. A son for you, Anchises. I shall protect him always. But be sure to tell no one about this. No one.’

  Despite his apparently lowly position herding cattle, Anchises was of royal birth – a cousin of King Priam’s.fn76 There had been some argument years before, which had led to Anchises storming out of the palace and choosing the life of a herdsman on Ida over that of a prince within the walls. Perhaps Zeus knew this fact about Anchises; perhaps he had overlooked it. Perhaps Zeus’s actions had been guided all along by Moros. Even the gods were powerless in the hands of the god of destiny, for certainly the child of Anchises in Aphrodite’s womb had a destiny. In the view of some, he was – until the arrival of Jesus, perhaps – the most significant child ever born. His birth, like that of Christ, was attended by asses and oxen – for Aphrodite chose to have her baby on Anchises’ home pastureland. They named him AENEAS; like Paris, the boy grew up as a herdsman on the slopes of Mount Ida; and, also like Paris, he was all the time without knowing it a member of the Trojan royal family.

  It was natural enough that Aeneas and Paris, as fellow herdsmen of the same age on the same mountain, would meet each other and become friends. When Paris’s true identity became known and he moved into the palace, he called for his friend to join him. Just as Agelaus had revealed Paris’s identity as a prince of Troy, so Anchises came forward to declare himself Aeneas’s father. The disagreement with Priam that had led to Anchises leaving Troy was forgotten and Aeneas was welcomed into the palace as Paris’s companion and a valued prince of the blood royal in his own right.fn77

  THE ABDUCTION

  Priam, as he had promised, instructed Troy’s finest shipbuilder and engineer, Phereclus, to construct and provision a vessel suitable for Paris’s great mission to bring Hesione home from her captivity on Salamis. Paris appointed his friend Aeneas as the legation’s second-in-command. While Phereclus finished work on the flagship, Aeneas saw to the preparation of six smaller vessels that were to sail with them in protective convoy.

  The Trojan royal family, headed by Priam, Hecuba, Hector, Deiphobus and Cassandra, gathered on the quayside to see the small fleet off.

  ‘Paris is not going to Salamis,’ wailed Cassandra. ‘He is going to Sparta! Sink the ships now and let him drown. He will return with death for us all, death for us all!’

  ‘May Poseidon and all the gods protect you,’ said Priam, as priests cast barley grain, seeds and flowers onto the decks. ‘Hurry back as soon as you can. Every day you are gone is painful for us.’

  Once they were out to sea, Paris let Aeneas and the rest of the crew know of their real destination.

  ‘Sparta?’ His friend was troubled.

  ‘Oh, you’re so holy, Aeneas,’ said Paris, laughing. ‘Live a little! This will be the greatest adventure of your life.’

  In Sparta King Menelaus welcomed Paris, Aeneas and the deputation from Troy. If their visit was a surprise, he was too well mannered to say so. The quality and costliness of the gifts with which Paris showered them proved that this was a friendly visit – one designed, Menelaus assumed, knowing Priam’s reputation, to foster amicable relations and a prosperous trading connection between Sparta and Troy. He and Helen feasted their guests and entertained them lavishly for nine days.

  On the ninth day the Dioscuri, Helen’s brothers Castor and Polydeuces, received word from Arcadia that had them hurrying off with brief apologies. Some long-standing enmity between them and their cousins.fn78 The next day a message came for Menelaus to say that he was wanted for the funeral of his maternal grandfather CATREUS on Crete. Suspecting nothing, he too departed at once.

  The way was now left open for Paris and his retinue to loot the palace and abduct the unprotected Helen. They took with them Helen’s baby son Nicostratus and her enslaved attendant, Theseus’s mother Aethra, but they left her daughter Hermione behind.

  So many questions present themselves. Was Helen abducted against her will? Did she fall for Paris in the usual way that people fall for each other? They were both young and beautiful after all, or did Aphrodite – ever mindful of her promise – arrange the whole thing? Certainly, in some tellings of the story, the goddess sent her son Eros to Sparta to pierce Helen with one of his arrows, to induce her to fall in love with Paris. Was Aphrodite also behind the death of Catreus, the sudden event that had called Menelaus so conveniently away?fn79 These are questions that have always been asked, and will be asked until the end of time. But what we can say with confidence is that Paris sailed away with much of Menelaus’s palace treasure, including the greatest treasure of all – the beautiful Helen.

  On his voyage back home to Troy, Paris stopped off at Cyprus, Egypt and Phoenicia, where King Sidon entertained him hospitably and for his trouble was murdered. Paris ransacked the Phoenician treasury and sailed for Troy with his ships laden.

  Priam, Hecuba, Deiphobus, Hector and all the rest of the royal family of Troy were astonished to see Helen, but they were delighted by her sweetness, dazzled by her beauty, and entranced by the treasure ships containing the riches of Sparta and Phoenicia. Paris’s new bride was welcomed warmly into the palace.

  Cassandra burst in to tell them that the presence of Helen would guarantee the destruction of Troy and the death of them all, but they didn’t seem to hear her.

  ‘Blood, fire, slaughter, destruction and death to us all!’ she howled.

  ‘Here’s to Helen,’ said Priam, raising a cup of wine.

  ‘To Helen!’ cried the court. ‘To Helen of Troy!’

  THE GREEKS (ALL BUT ONE) HONOUR THEIR PLEDGE

  Menelaus and Agamemnon had made their way separately to Crete to attend the funeral obsequies for their grandfather Catreus. They returned to the Peloponnese together.

  ‘Come and stay with me and Helen,’ Menelaus urged his brother.

  ‘Good of you, but I’m anxious to get home to Clytemnestra and the children.’

  ‘Just a few days. Paris, the Trojan prince I told you about, he and his retinue will still be there. I’d like you to meet him. A goo
d relationship with Troy is in all our interests.’

  Agamemnon had grunted his assent and disembarked with his brother at the Laconian port of Gytheio.

  When they reached the palace in Sparta they found the royal compound in complete uproar. Servants and slaves had been locked in the cellars while Paris and his men had looted and ransacked to their hearts’ content. But it was the theft of his baby son Nicostratus and, above all – above everything in the world – the abduction of his beloved Helen, wife and queen, that struck Menelaus like a thunderbolt from Zeus.

  Agamemnon roared with fury. For him this was not a personal loss but something far worse – a slight, an insult, an act of contemptuous provocation and betrayal carried out in what Agamemnon regarded as his fiefdom, his Peloponnese.

  ‘I had heard that King Priam was wise,’ he thundered. ‘I had heard he was honourable. Report lied. He is neither. He is dishonourable. In rousing Agamemnon he has proved himself to be a fool.’ The King of Mycenae was the kind of man who did not mind referring to himself in the third person.

  A great horn, metaphorical not real, was sounded around the kingdoms, provinces and islands of Greece. The kings, warlords, clan chiefs, princelings, generals, nobles, landowners and hangdog hopefuls who had gathered in Sparta for Helen’s hand and sworn to defend and honour her marriage were now called upon to make good their pledge.

  Homer never calls the allied army that Agamemnon convened ‘Greeks’ and only rarely even ‘Hellenes’. He most commonly refers to them as ‘the Achaeans’, named for Achaea, a region in the north central Peloponnese that was part of Agamemnon’s combined lands of Corinth, Mycenae and Argos,fn80 but which was used to denote the whole peninsula, including city states of the southern Peloponnese like Sparta and Troezen. Like Homer, I’ll use ‘Achaean’, ‘Argive’ (‘of Argos’), ‘Danaan’fn81 or ‘Hellene’ to describe the alliance, but most often just plain ‘Greek’ …

  And so they came, not only from Achaea and the Peloponnese, but also from Athens and Attica in the southeast of the mainland and Thessaly in the northeast, from the Ionian islands and from Crete, Salamis and the Aegean islands comprising the Sporades, Cyclades and Dodecanese. The messengers that swarmed from Agamemnon’s Mycenaean palace urged each king to bring as many ships and men as they could muster and to gather at the Theban port of Aulis on the coast of Boeotia which looked east over Euboea across the Aegean to Troy.