'No,' he replied, containing his surprise. 'I've enjoyed our time together I couldn't have wanted a better guide to the city.'

Clytaemnestra's sad face was lifted by a smile. 'I'm glad you like her. She adores you.'

'Thanks to you. You must have told her everything I've ever done.'

'Only what you shared with me that night . . .'

Clytaemnestra turned away in embarra.s.sment, looking across at the guards and then up at the moon.

'You've changed a lot since then,' she continued. 'You're more experienced, more sure of who you are. I don't sense so much of that urgency to prove yourself any more, though you still lack fulfilment. You're still chasing after something.'

'Who isn't?' Eperitus said, squinting across at the Plain of Argos. 'It seems to me the only people who stand a chance of happiness are children. They have some freedom, at least, until they grow up.'

'Have you ever wanted children of your own, Eperitus? Perhaps that's what you're looking for, a child to leave your mark in this world.'

Eperitus was surprised by Clytaemnestra's boldness, but kept his eyes fixed on the plain below the city.

'When I saw Telemachus Odysseus's child in Penelope's arms, I felt envious. I knew the boy would carry on his bloodline and preserve his memory, whereas if I perished I would leave no one behind. Then the jealousy went. After all, I'm a warrior and I can win immortality through glory, whatever you may think on the matter, Clytaemnestra.'

'Sometimes you remind me of Agamemnon,' she said, suddenly cold. 'As hard as bronze and desperate to bathe in the blood of your enemies.'

'How can you compare me to him?' Eperitus responded. 'Your husband l.u.s.ts after power, not glory.'

Clytaemnestra's gaze fell to the wet flagstones. 'I'm sorry, you're nothing like Agamemnon. At least you have a heart.'

Eperitus reached out and touched her shoulder. 'Besides, the king of Mycenae is losing his sanity.'

'Hush!' Clytaemnestra whispered, placing a finger to his lips and glancing over at the guards. She caught two of them watching her, but they were quick to look away again. 'It's not wise to criticize the king. Even when he's away he has spies everywhere, reporting everything that goes on. But you're right. Follow me, I know somewhere more private we can talk.'

She led him into the palace, pa.s.sing the exit to the courtyard and on up a steep flight of stairs to the second floor. They continued past a series of closed doors until they reached an arched doorway where a maid slept on a bench outside. Clytaemnestra opened the door and walked through into the room beyond, beckoning Eperitus to join her. Reluctantly, he followed.

'This is my room,' she said, closing the door. 'We can talk safely here.'

'Safely?' he replied. 'If I'm caught here and Agamemnon hears about it . . .'

'Don't concern yourself about him. He stopped suspecting me many years ago. As far as he knows, I've never slept with anyone other than him and my first husband.'

Eperitus looked about at the richly decorated bedroom. The muralled walls and painted furniture were visible in the moonlight that poured in through the single window, and in the centre was a low bed covered in thick furs. A heady perfume in the air eased the tension from his muscles and at the same time stirred something deep inside him. He relaxed and slumped into a cushioned chair.

'How can you be sure he isn't having you watched? You told me long ago that he loved you jealously.'

'Agamemnon doesn't understand what love is,' Clytaemnestra answered sternly. She let the heavy black cloak fall from her shoulders and walked over to stand before Eperitus, the folds of her chiton stirring gently in a breeze from the window. 'When he killed my first husband, he simply wanted to possess me and was driven to distraction by the fact I would not give myself to him. That all changed after the children were born, especially Orestes. Perhaps he thinks he owns part of me through the boy, I don't know, but he's long since lost any pa.s.sion for me.'

Clytaemnestra kicked off her sandals and sat down on the sheepskin rug at Eperitus's feet. She folded her arms about her shins and rested her chin on her knees, looking towards the window. After a few moments she began to talk again, almost as if to herself, explaining how Agamemnon had turned Orestes against her. By using their son, the king had repaid her for her coldness towards him over the years. Her only pleasure in life now was Iphigenia, and as she spoke of her daughter her whole being seemed to lift. She raised her face towards Eperitus and he could see the same happy light he had first glimpsed when they became lovers ten years before. The sadness that made her unreachable fell away and suddenly Eperitus felt the urge to stretch out his hand and touch her. The thought of who she was the queen of Mycenae and the wife of another man held him back, but at the same time his eyes were drawn to the pale flesh of her bare arms and feet, and the shape of her long legs and small b.r.e.a.s.t.s through the thin dress. His mind was filled with the memory of her naked body from so long ago, and as he stared into her eyes he knew she was no longer thinking of her daughter. He took a deep breath, filling his senses with the heady perfume, and looked away part of him still trying to resist but his gaze fell at once on the bed and only strengthened the desires that were coursing through him.

'Even if Agamemnon knew you were here,' Clytaemnestra said, placing a hand tentatively on his knee, 'I doubt he would care any more. Ever since Helen was taken, or chose to leave, he has been obsessed with war on the Trojans. And I think you're right, Eperitus: it has turned his mind. If he was ruthless in seeking power before, he will stop at nothing to achieve it now. He will have this war at any cost.'

Eperitus looked at her, sensing something in her tone. 'What do you mean?'

Suddenly, Clytaemnestra rose up on her knees and kissed him. Eperitus lifted his hands to the sides of her head, running his fingers into her thick red hair as her tongue forced its way into his mouth. She came closer, forcing his knees apart with her body until he could feel the softness of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his lower ribs, all the time pressing her mouth against his with a pa.s.sion that was fierce and needy. Then she pulled away and stood up, taking his hands and pulling him from the chair. Quickly, clumsily, she unfastened his cloak and pulled his tunic over his head, revealing the hard, deeply etched muscles of his body to the moonlight. A moment later her dress lay in a dark pool about her ankles and she was pressing her naked body against his.

Eperitus's hands instinctively sought her thin waist, feeling the shape of her smooth flesh as she pressed her lips to his shoulders. He closed his eyes and felt the tip of her tongue moving gently up his neck to his jaw, then her mouth was on his again as she pulled him blindly towards the bed. Her ankles caught against the mattress and she fell backwards into the dense layers of fur, pulling him on top of her. As they lay there, their limbs locked eagerly about each other again, he stared into her smiling face and felt for a moment as if nothing else mattered. Her rich, shining hair spilled back across the bed and her dark eyes gleamed up at him with pleasure, momentarily freed from the concerns of her life. Then she folded her calves across his b.u.t.tocks and held his body against hers, while he pressed his lips roughly to hers once more, eager to enjoy the welcoming sensation of her body.

Chapter Twenty-four.

THE SECRET REVEALED.

Eperitus opened his eyes to the dawn light and the sound of birds in the gardens below. It took him a few moments to realize where he was, but Clytaemnestra's arm across his chest and her hot inner thigh resting on his leg quickly brought back memories of the night before. Her head lay on his upper arm with her face half-hidden by the mess of red hair, making him reluctant to move and wake her, but the sound of slaves moving about beyond the bedroom door made him anxious to find his clothes and be gone before the rest of the palace awoke.

'Don't go,' Clytaemnestra said as he tried to slip free of her embrace. Her limbs tightened about him and she lifted her face to look at him. 'There's no hurry the sun hasn't even risen yet.'

She must have been awake for some time, Eperitus realized as he brushed the hair from her eyes and kissed her on the cheek. It was hot where it had rested against his arm.

'I can hear slaves in the corridor. If they catch me here and Agamemnon finds out, you could pay for it with your life.'

'As could you,' Clytaemnestra responded. 'But my maids are loyal; they won't dare say anything that could incriminate me.'

Suddenly the door swung open and a young, heavily proportioned girl rushed in, carrying a folded black dress over her arm.

'My lady! My lady!' she began, before sensing at once that something was out of place. Her eyes fell on the garments strung out over the floor, then crept over the bed to rest on the man in her mistress's arms, his nakedness only half covered by the furs. Her round face was transformed with horror as she dropped the dress and clapped her hands to her mouth.

'd.a.m.n it, Polymele!' Clytaemnestra snapped, throwing the furs aside and rising naked from the bed. 'What do you mean by bursting in like this?'

'My lady,' the maid stuttered, eyeing Eperitus with a mixture of fear, confusion and desire. 'It's . . . It's your husband. The king is approaching the Lion Gate with an escort of twenty men.'

'G.o.ds!' Eperitus exclaimed. He leapt from the bed and began gathering up his clothes, heedless of the maid's eyes.

'The dress, girl, quickly!' Clytaemnestra ordered, holding her arms wide as Polymele unfolded the garment and began draping it about her mistress. 'Are you sure it's him?'

'Yes, my lady.'

'Then something must be wrong. Leave the dress to me; I want you to fetch a hooded cloak black, of course and wait for me by the door. And not a word of what you've seen to anyone, do you understand? If Agamemnon finds out, Polymele, I'll put a curse on your womb so that you give birth to a litter of pigs.'

Looking terrified, the maid fled the room with a squeal and Clytaemnestra closed the door behind her. Finding her sandals, she slipped them on to her feet and began to knot her hair up at the back of her head. Eperitus, now fully dressed, rushed to the window and looked out towards the city gates, where there was a large commotion of people and horses.

'Come away, my dear,' Clytaemnestra said, putting a hand on his shoulder and drawing him back into the room. 'You don't want to be seen peering out of the queen's bedroom, do you?'

Eperitus turned to her and placed his hands on her thin hips.

'If Agamemnon's here, the palace is going to be teeming with life. How am I going to slip out without being noticed?'

'There's a back stair that leads to the garden. Polymele will take you. But tell me this, Eperitus, and quickly: if I leave with Iphigenia, tonight, will you come with us?'

'Leave?' Eperitus smiled. 'a.s.suming Agamemnon doesn't find out about us, why would you want to leave? This is your home, Nestra, and Iphigenia isn't your only child.'

'You don't know the danger she's in,' the queen replied.

There was a sharp knock at the door and they instinctively pulled apart from their light embrace, looking anxiously across the room.

'Who is it?' Clytaemnestra asked.

'Polymele, my lady. I have your cloak, and they say the king is on his way up to the palace at this very moment. I was concerned . . .'

Clytaemnestra pulled the door open and allowed Polymele to fold the cloak about her shoulders. She instructed her to take Eperitus down to the gardens then, without regard to the girl's presence, put her hand to Eperitus's cheek and kissed him.

'Think about what I said,' she whispered, then turned and rushed down the corridor, her cloak billowing out behind her.

Polymele led Eperitus down a narrow staircase that opened onto the gardens below the palace. She left him there without a word and returned by the same route, though her parting expression was enough to tell him what she thought of his presence in the queen's quarters.

The gardens were bright and fresh in the morning light and the pungent aroma of the many flowers reminded Eperitus of Clytaemnestra's bedroom, but he had no time to enjoy their peaceful beauty. A sudden commotion on the terraces above filled him with a sense of urgency and he ran across the dew-wet lawns to the main staircase, leaping up them three at a time to emerge on the courtyard before the great hall. As he stepped out into the chaos of slaves and guards, all running in different directions to prepare for the arrival of their king, a voice called to him. He turned to see Odysseus waving from the doorway of the guest house. Talthybius was at his side.

'Where have you been?' Odysseus asked as Eperitus pushed his way through the crowds to join them. 'I've had men looking all over for you. Agamemnon's here, in person!'

'I've been in the gardens since before dawn. I couldn't sleep. But why's Agamemnon here?'

'We don't know, yet,' said Talthybius, looking worried, 'but for him to leave the army and come here himself, it must be a serious matter.'

As he spoke a group of slaves spilled out of the pa.s.sageway that led from the palace threshold, chased by a pair of soldiers with bronze body armour and plumed helmets members of Agamemnon's personal bodyguard. The king emerged in their wake, his armour dusty and his red cloak travel-stained. His beard had grown longer and more unkempt since they had last seen him, but the blood-drained face and sunken eyes were alert and filled with purpose. At his appearance, every slave and soldier bowed their heads before him. Talthybius followed suit, but Odysseus and Eperitus remained upright as the King of Men approached. The stooping form of Calchas was at his shoulder.

'Welcome home, my lord,' said Talthybius. 'We weren't expecting your arrival.'

'Of course you weren't,' Agamemnon snapped, the blood rising to his cheeks. 'You were too busy dithering about here, enjoying the comforts of palace life no doubt.'

Despite Agamemnon's accusation of idleness, Odysseus seemed unconcerned and responded with a broad smile and a hand on the Mycenaean king's shoulder.

'You've arrived just in time, Agamemnon,' he said. 'Your wife has been busy making preparations for Iphigenia's marriage to Achilles, and if everything goes to plan we'll be setting out within two or three days. But how are things with the fleet? Have you come to tell us the storm has lifted?'

Agamemnon's icy blue eyes met the warm green of Odysseus's, trying to penetrate the thoughts behind them. After a few moments his severe expression melted away and he returned Odysseus's smile.

'The storms are as strong as ever, my friend; the reason I've left the army is to make sure Iphigenia is taken to Aulis as soon as possible. For one thing, I didn't encourage the right sense of urgency when I sent you here. For another and more importantly you haven't had the benefit of Calchas's insight into Clytaemnestra's thoughts.' He turned to the priest. 'Why don't you explain what you know to Odysseus?'

Calchas pulled back the hood of his black travelling cloak to reveal his bald pate and pallid, skull-like face. His eyes maintained a constant twitching and his tongue flicked over his bottom lip and teeth as he looked about at the men, considering their faces closely as if scrutinizing their very thoughts. Clytaemnestra, he informed them, had no intention of going ahead with the wedding. Her agreement was a facade, covering her real intention to find a means of escape. The ancient G.o.ds she worshipped had suggested to her that Agamemnon had a different purpose in sending for their daughter a purpose that the queen had no intention of conceding to. Odysseus gave Agamemnon a questioning look at the mention of this, but the king ignored him and focused on the priest. Apollo, Calchas continued, had revealed the queen's intentions to him in a dream a few nights before, which he had shared at once with Agamemnon.

'Which is why I'm here now,' the King of Men added. 'It is imperative Iphigenia comes back to Aulis immediately everything depends on it. I've already ordered fresh horses and provisions for the return journey; we head back tomorrow morning.'

'But why the urgency?' Odysseus asked, his eyes narrowing inquisitively.

Agamemnon raised an eyebrow. 'You'll find out in time, my friend.'

At that moment, Clytaemnestra appeared and crossed the courtyard to join them. She stood between Odysseus and Eperitus giving the latter a strong sense of discomfort in front of Agamemnon and the knowing gaze of Calchas and placed her fists on her hips.

'Your arrival is unexpected, husband.'

'I thought it might provide you with a pleasant surprise,' he responded, stepping towards her and placing his hand on her waist. He pulled her towards him and kissed her hard on the lips.

Clytaemnestra turned her face away and her husband released his grip on her.

'Didn't trust me to release Iphigenia into your clutches is more like it,' she hissed, not trying to hide her contempt.

'Calchas here had an inkling of your reluctance, so I thought my presence might encourage you,' Agamemnon answered.

Clytaemnestra looked at the priest, who threw his cloak back across his shoulders to reveal the white robes beneath. 'An Apollonian?' she sneered. 'I should have known one of your kind was at the heart of this.'

Calchas's eyes narrowed and his twitching stopped as he focused his disdain on the tall woman in black. 'Apollo lays bare many things. It is more profitable to follow an Olympian than one of the fallen G.o.ds you worship. The rule of Gaea and Hecate is fading from the world; you should recognize that and leave your witchcraft behind.'

'You dare to call me a witch in front of my husband?'

'It's true, isn't it?' Agamemnon said, and Calchas grinned victoriously. 'Now, I'm going to the great hall. Have food prepared for me and my men, and send Orestes to me. Odysseus, join me when you're ready. I want to talk with you.'

'And Iphigenia?' Clytaemnestra asked as her husband brushed past her, followed by Calchas and Talthybius.

'The girl can do as she pleases,' he said, turning on the steps to the great hall. 'Just make sure she is prepared to leave first thing tomorrow.'

Clytaemnestra watched him disappear through the high doors before turning to Eperitus. She looked at him with sombre, pleading eyes, then marched off into the palace to carry out her husband's orders.

'It can never come to anything, you know,' Odysseus commented as the courtyard rapidly emptied, leaving him and Eperitus alone except for a pair of guards by the great hall.

'What can't?'

'You and Clytaemnestra. No, don't act surprised. Your bed wasn't slept in last night and I'd already sent Eurylochus to look for you in the gardens before you appeared. I know there's a concealed entrance from the royal quarters, so it isn't difficult to deduce where you slept last night.'

Eperitus turned away and looked at the plain below the city, which was a lush green after the rains. He was surprised at the speed with which his friend had found him out, and did not know how to reply. Then Odysseus seized him by the shoulders and turned him around, staring fiercely into his eyes.

'You're a d.a.m.ned fool, Eperitus! Zeus's beard, don't you realize Agamemnon will have both of you killed if he finds out about this? Next time you want a woman for the night, find yourself a slave not a b.l.o.o.d.y queen!'

Eperitus knocked Odysseus's hands from his shoulders and glared back at him. 'Don't forget I nearly died at Sparta because of your pa.s.sion for a princess!'

Odysseus's eyes darkened for a moment and his giant fists were clenched tightly as he stared at the captain of his guard. Then the anger drained away as quickly as it had risen and he shook his head, breaking eye contact.

'I'm sorry,' he said, and with a sudden laugh slapped Eperitus on the arm. 'How could I forget? But I married that princess: I hope you're not intending to do the same with Clytaemnestra?'

'Clytaemnestra's already married, unless you hadn't noticed,' Eperitus replied lightly. 'Though she did ask me to help her escape from Mycenae. She said Iphigenia is in danger.'

'I believe she is,' Odysseus sighed. 'You and I both know Agamemnon's losing his sanity over this war, and with Calchas muttering visions and prophecies in his ear who knows what he might be persuaded to do? But Clytaemnestra has her own insight into things, too, and if she doesn't want her husband to take Iphigenia then she must have good reason. Are you going to help her, Eperitus?'

'No. My place is with you.'

'I'm glad to hear it, for both our sakes. But you must remain wary. She's a desperate woman and she'll try to persuade you to help her, especially if she thinks she has an emotional hold over you. Don't let her, though it can never work, and she might just pull you down with her.'

Eperitus lay on the straw mattress looking at the c.h.i.n.k of silver moonlight beneath the door. The snores of the other Ithacan soldiers told him that they, unlike he, had not had difficulty sleeping. It had been a busy day after the arrival of Agamemnon, with the palace a hive of activity hurriedly finishing the wedding preparations in time for the departure early the next morning. To escape the commotion, Odysseus and Eperitus had spent the day outside the city walls, drilling the men and honing their weapons skills. But, although he felt physically tired, Eperitus's mind would not allow him the boon of sleep.

Since the evening meal he had been turning over in his mind the reasons for Agamemnon's untimely arrival. All day he had been expecting the Lion Gate to burst open and an armed guard to come out and arrest him. But none came, and he a.s.sumed Agamemnon had not guessed at his wife's infidelity. His thoughts were more concerned, though, with the fate of Iphigenia. Despite his general disregard for children, Eperitus had come to like Clytaemnestra's daughter in their few days together and he found himself pitying her. He had not seen the child or her mother all day, but from Agamemnon's talk at the evening feast it seemed she had still not been informed of the marriage to Achilles, or even that she was to leave for Aulis in the morning with her father, while Clytaemnestra remained at Mycenae.