'Quite so. You see, I am getting more than a little tired of this interminable war. My wife, Penelope, will never believe that it has lasted this this long. So already I had half decided to sail for home; but it does seem a pity to have wasted all this time, without so much as a priceless Trojan goblet to show for it. I promised the boys booty, and booty they shall have! So I am going to give you forty-eight hours to think of something really ingenious.' long. So already I had half decided to sail for home; but it does seem a pity to have wasted all this time, without so much as a priceless Trojan goblet to show for it. I promised the boys booty, and booty they shall have! So I am going to give you forty-eight hours to think of something really ingenious.'

'Two days?' calculated the Doctor, gulping in his turn. 'That isn't long...'

'It should be enough if you are as clever as you say you are.'

Ever the realist, Steven asked, 'What happens if we fail?'

'I shouldn't enquire if I were you. It would only upset you.

Because if you fail, I shall have been foolish to have believed your story, and I would hate to be made to seem a fool. I should be very, very angry.'

As he said this, Odysseus sliced through their bonds with a backhand sweep of his cutla.s.s, and then drove his two protesting prisoners back the way they had come.

It seemed pointless to follow them for the moment. I had learned quite enough astonishing new facts for one morning, and I wanted to digest the implications.

I mean, if time travel were really possible, why what a collaborator the Doctor would make. Already half a dozen ideas for new books were clamouring for attention in my reeling mind science fiction, I thought I might call them; at least, until a better notion occurred.

Besides, I thought it was time for somebody somebody to see what might be happening to see what might be happening inside inside the city of Troy for a change. How would they cope with a time-machine, I wondered. the city of Troy for a change. How would they cope with a time-machine, I wondered.

So, I went to find out.

11.

Paris Draws the Line It wasn't as difficult to get into Troy as you might suppose, considering all the heavy weather the Greeks were making of it.

However to be fair, I have to admit that an army is one thing and an inconspicuous, casually dressed poet, quite another.

At all events, I arrived outside the main gates very impressive they were, I must say solid bronze by the look of them, with bra.s.s ornamentations, just as Prince Paris and his men were man-handling the TARDIS through there.

Considering all the stertorous breathing, groaning and so forth that was going on, I calculated that they might be glad of some a.s.sistance, however modest; so I rolled up my sleeves and lent a shoulder. No one so much as raised an eyebrow; in fact, I was cheerfully accepted as a colleague by one and all. And in no time, there we were in the main square, the gates were barred and bolted behind us, and a crowd of miscellaneous spectators were giving us a bit of a cheer. Nothing to it.

Except that my word! the thing was as heavy as lead, and that that removed any doubts I might have had about the Doctor's story. Quite obviously, there was far more of it inside, then met the eye from outside if you follow me? So we were all extremely glad to set it down. removed any doubts I might have had about the Doctor's story. Quite obviously, there was far more of it inside, then met the eye from outside if you follow me? So we were all extremely glad to set it down.

Prince Paris was pleased with himself no end you could tell that! He strutted about the little building like a peac.o.c.k in full courtship display. Well, he could afford to; he hadn't been doing a lot of work, and wasn't as f.a.gged out as the rest of us.

But an interesting looking man, all the same. By no means a bully-boy, like his deceased elder brother, and with what I believe is called a sensitive face. Intelligent, anyway and I wondered if half the stories one heard about him were true.

He didn't look like a debauchee far from it. No, more like an unwilling conscript, prepared to make the best of things for the sake of family tradition, and all that. The sort of man you wouldn't at all have minded having a drink with except that it would have been a reasonable bet that he'd have left his money in his other uniform.

Anyway, it was obvious at the moment, that he thought he'd pulled off rather a coup. 'Halt!' he commanded, shortly after we'd just done so. 'Cast off the ropes, there!' Yes, we'd done that as well. So he thought for a moment, and added, 'Sound the trumpets!'

Well, that was new, at any rate, and after a short pause, while the surprised warriors fumbled about for the instruments, knocked the moths, fluff et cetera et cetera out of them, the most G.o.d-awful noise broke out. A fanfare of sorts, I took it to be, and possibly just the thing to stiffen the sinews if you hadn't been up all night, downwind of Agamemnon's tent, as I had. out of them, the most G.o.d-awful noise broke out. A fanfare of sorts, I took it to be, and possibly just the thing to stiffen the sinews if you hadn't been up all night, downwind of Agamemnon's tent, as I had.

As it was, I couldn't take it at that hour in the morning, and I scurried away to suitable cover. n.o.body had thanked me for my help, but you don't really expect that these days. And as I cowered behind a giant pilaster with flowered finials, or whatever it was a great stone column anyway, outside what I took to be the palace, another light sleeper emerged.

'What is it now?' King Priam asked irritably. 'By the Great Horse of Asia is none of us to rest? Who's there?'

You could sense at once that he was a Trojan of the old school, accustomed to getting his own way, or knowing the reason why. In his mid-sixties, I should think, but well-preserved and still formidable.

Paris pranced proudly forwards, like a war-horse saying 'ha-ha!' to the trumpets: 'It's Paris, father, returned from patrol.'

'Well, why can't you do it quietly quietly? What news, boy? Have you avenged your brother, Hector, yet? Have you killed Achilles?'

'Ah,' said Paris, 'I sought Achilles, father, even to the Graecian lines. I flung my challenge at him, but he skulked within his tent and feared to face me.'

A likely story, I must say, and not at all good enough, as it proved.

'Well, you go back and wait until he gets his courage up!

Upon my soul, what sort of brother are you? And, furthermore, what sort of son?' He noticed the TARDIS for the first time.

'What's that you've got there?'

'A prize, father, captured from the Greeks.'

'Captured, you say? I should think they were glad to see the back of it. What is it?'

Paris had been rather afraid of that. He wasn't sure and you couldn't blame him. But he did his best. 'It's a sort of shrine, it seems..

'And what, may I ask, do you propose to do with this seeming shrine?'

Paris tilted his helmet over one eye, and scratched his head.

'You don't like it where it is?'

'I do not. Right in everybody's way! How are the chariots meant to get around it?'

'Ah, I hadn't thought of that.'

'Think about it now.'

'Right ho! Then how about if we put it in the temple?'

Not a bad solution, I'd have thought, but at this moment there was an interruption to the steady flow of reasoned argument.

'You are not not putting that thing in my temple,' snarled a shrill voice from the opposite side of the square, and there was Paris's sister, Ca.s.sandra, standing on the steps of the temple in question. putting that thing in my temple,' snarled a shrill voice from the opposite side of the square, and there was Paris's sister, Ca.s.sandra, standing on the steps of the temple in question.

A bad woman to cross, Ca.s.sandra; put me in mind of her brother Hector in drag, if you can imagine such a thing. Paris quailed before her.

'Ah, there you are,' he said. 'Well, the point is, old thing, Father and I were rather hoping, we could, perhaps...'

'Nothing of the kind!' snapped Priam, obviously glad to let him down. 'Don't drag me into it. Honestly, bringing back blessed shrines that n.o.body wants. Go and bring Achilles' body, if you want to do something useful! Get back to the war!'

'And take that thing with you,' added Ca.s.sandra, with as much vehemence as she could muster, which was always considerable. But, as is well known, there are limits, and she had now reached them, as far as Paris was concerned.

'No, I say, really Ca.s.sandra, if you knew the weight of it!

Can't I just move it to the side of the square, and leave it for the moment? As a sort of well, as a monument, if you like?'

'A monument to what?' asked Ca.s.sandra, rudely, not letting the matter rest.

'Well, to my initiative, for instance. After all, it's the first sizeable trophy we've captured since the war started. It seems a pity not to make some use of it, don't you think?'

'And what sort of use would you suggest?'

'Well, I I don't know, do I? Once we've examined it thoroughly, it will probably prove to have all sorts of uses.' don't know, do I? Once we've examined it thoroughly, it will probably prove to have all sorts of uses.'

'Yes, I'm quite sure it will; uses to the Greeks.'

'Now what on earth do you mean by that? The Greeks haven't got it anymore, have they? I have.'

She sneered, offensively: 'And why do you imagine they allowed you to capture it?'

This was going too far even from a sister one has known from infancy.

' Allowed Allowed me to? Now, look here, Ca.s.sandra, I don't think you quite appreciate the sort of effort that went into ' me to? Now, look here, Ca.s.sandra, I don't think you quite appreciate the sort of effort that went into '

She ignored his local outburst. ' Where Where did you find it?' she persevered, not letting up for an instant. did you find it?' she persevered, not letting up for an instant.

'Now, where do you think? Out there on the plain, for goodness sake.'

'Unguarded, I suppose?'

'Well as a matter of fact, yes. They're getting very careless these days.'

'I thought as much! Don't you see, you were meant meant to bring it into Troy?' to bring it into Troy?'

'No, I don't frankly. And furthermore...'

'I think I'm beginning to,' contributed Priam, gloomily.

Paris was now thoroughly on the defensive: 'Now, just what are you both getting at? Always have to try and spoil everything for me, don't you?'

Ca.s.sandra struck a dramatic pose, as though it had offended her in some way. 'This has broken my dream! The auguries were bad today, I awoke full of foreboding!'

'I never knew you when you didn't.'

'Paris,' said Priam, 'your sister is high priestess; let her speak.'

'Ah, very well, very well,' said Paris, yawning behind his chin-guard, 'what was was this dream of yours, Ca.s.sandra?' this dream of yours, Ca.s.sandra?'

'Thank you! I dreamed that on the plain the Greeks had left a gift, and although what what it was remained unclear, we brought it into Troy. Then in the night, from out its belly soldiers came, and fell upon us as we slept.' it was remained unclear, we brought it into Troy. Then in the night, from out its belly soldiers came, and fell upon us as we slept.'

'That's it?' asked Paris. 'Yes well, I hardly think you need to interpret that one! Really, Ca.s.sandra, have you taken a good look at this gift as you call it? Go on, take your time examine it carefully that's right. Now, just how many soldiers do you think are lurking in it? A regiment, perhaps? I hate to disappoint you, old thing, but you'd be lucky to prise even two small Spartans out of that.'

'Fools! Even one man could unbar the gates, and so admit an army! It's exactly the sort of scheme Odysseus would think of!'

'Then I hope I'm not being too practical for everybody,'

returned Priam, reasonably, 'but why don't we open the thing and see?'

'Well, that's rather the trouble,' said Paris. 'There does seem to be a sort of door but it won't open...'

'What did I tell you?' shrieked Ca.s.sandra, like an owl stuck in a chimney, 'It's locked from the inside!' And she beat her breast, in what must have been rather a painful way.

'Oh, is is it?' Priam seized Paris's sword, 'Stand back! I have a short way with locks.' And he attacked the door of the TARDIS it?' Priam seized Paris's sword, 'Stand back! I have a short way with locks.' And he attacked the door of the TARDIS with ill-concealed malevolence. Not a dent or a blemish, however.

Paris swallowed a smug smile. 'Perhaps you'll believe me, next time? Ca.s.sandra, would you like to try?'

She rejected the offer with dignity. 'The thing need not be opened. Bring branches, fire and sacrificial oil! We will make of it an offering to the G.o.ds of Troy and if there be someone within, so much the greater gift.'

While attendants, servitors and scullions scurried about to fetch the necessary, Paris had one final go at saving his hard-earned trophy.

'Now wait a moment all of you! Whatever it may be, the thing is mine I found it! So leave it alone, can't you?'

But Priam's blood was really up now. He'd not only hurt his thumb on the door; but like Odysseus and Agamemnon before him, he resented being made a fool of, in front of the staff. 'Out of the way, boy! The thing must be destroyed before it harms us!

Further.' he added, inspecting his damaged digit. Then, brandishing a burning branch, in a somewhat irresponsible manner, I thought, with so much sacrificial oil splashing about the place, he prepared to set fire to the TARDIS.

12.