Read Online Troy 03 - Fall of Kings by David Gemmell - Free Book Online Page B

prophecy. The Shield of Thunder had brought forth the Eagle Child, and Troy would last a thousand years. He was a king complete, yet his loins still ached for her. Not a day went by that he did not regret the promise he had made her. She had agreed to share his bed—but only until she fell pregnant. She had demanded his word that he would honor that agreement. And he had given it. Fool!
    Even so, he had been convinced that she would return to him. Trapped in a loveless marriage with an impotent husband—of course she would.
    Yet she had not, and it still mystified him.
    “Hektor and Andromache await you in the Amber Room, lord,” Polydorus said, emerging from the doorway. “I have sent a soldier to find Helikaon.”
    “He is Prince
Aeneas,
” Priam snapped. “A noble name, long held in high esteem by my family.”
    “Yes, my lord king. I am sorry. I forgot for an instant.”
    Priam strolled from his chambers and walked along the wide corridor, Polydorus following him. The room where his guests waited was on the south side of the palace, away from the cold winter winds. Even so there was a chill in the air.
    Waiting for him were Andromache, Hektor, and the young Dardanian king. Leaving Polydorus outside to guard the door, Priam stepped inside to greet them. As he did so, he could not stop his eyes from lingering on Andromache: the curve of her breasts beneath the yellow gown, the bright green of her eyes, the lusciousness of her lips.
    Tearing his gaze away, he said, “Aeneas, my boy, I grieve for you. When my own dear Hekabe died, it was as if my heart had been pierced by a flaming arrow.”
    Priam gazed around the room. There was tension there. Andromache was sitting stiffly, her hands folded on her lap. Hektor was standing behind her, his expression stern, his eyes cold. Aeneas seemed oddly ill at ease. Did they know what he was about to ask them? The priestess had arrived only late yesterday but since then might have spoken of the matter to a servant. Instantly he dismissed the thought. The priestess was a tight-lipped old witch and hardly likely to gossip to palace servants. No, there was something else here. Pushing that minor problem from his mind, he focused on the matter at hand.
    Looking at Aeneas, he asked: “Is it still your intention to risk the winter seas and voyage west?”
    His kinsman nodded. “We need the tin,” he said simply. “With all the sources through Kypros drying up and the Hittites using all the tin they can get, we must seek it from farther afield. If I leave directly, I can get to the Seven Hills well ahead of Odysseus, who will probably winter on Ithaka as he always has.”
    Though perilous, it was a good plan, Priam knew. Without tin there could be no bronze for the smiths to work. Without bronze, no swords, no spears, no shields, no helms. Without bronze there could be no victory over the Mykene.
    “And you will take the
Xanthos
? You will not pass unnoticed in that fire-hurling monstrosity.”
    “No, I will not,” Aeneas agreed. “But with a full complement of eighty she is faster than any galley and will withstand the stormy seas. Added to which she will carry more tin than any three galleys could. As to monstrosity, well…I do not doubt Agamemnon would agree with you.”
    Then Hektor spoke. “If any ship can make it to the Seven Hills in winter and return safely, it is the
Xanthos.
We must assume Agamemnon will attack again in the spring, be it Dardanos or Thebe-Under-Plakos or Troy itself, and we must have the armor for our troops. I agree: Helikaon should leave as soon as possible.”
    “As soon as possible, yes,” Priam said, walking to a small carved table and pouring himself a goblet of water. He glanced again at Andromache. She was wearing a necklace of sea horses carved from ivory. Sea horse clasps held back her thick red hair. She sat with her hands in her lap and watched him gravely. If she wondered why she had been asked there, she gave no