People of the Inner Sea (The Age of Bronze) by Diana Gainer Read Free Book Online

wounds.  Two Lakedaimóniyans have died of lockjaw already, just since we left Tróya.  Our wounds are beginning to rot with gangrene.  We have no more clean linen for bandages and no more opium for the pain.  Now we are hungry too.  Just today, one of our lookouts climbed the mast for a sight of land.  He was so weak from hunger and fatigue that he fell and broke his neck on the rowing bench beneath him.  You must allow the men more time to rest or others will die."
     
    Meneláwo slowly shook his head, his cropped hair clinging to his face in the damp air.  "I cannot give what I do not have, St'énelo.  There is no more time.  We must go on and go quickly.  Even in my brother's capital city, time will remain our enemy.  We must leave Mukénai before Agamémnon arrives."
     
    "What is this?" cried Odushéyu and about him the navigators' mouths hung open in surprise.  "It is your brother's wife who rules his kingdom and yours in your absence.  Surely we have nothing to fear from her."
     
    "I do not think Klutaimnéstra will do us harm, no.  After all, we are bringing her own sister back from captivity.  But there is bad blood between my sister-in-law and Agamémnon.  Remember how this campaign began.  The army seer insisted that Agamémnon sacrifice his oldest daughter to gain a fair wind."
     
    "Ai, the wánasha cannot hold that against her husband.  It was his duty to sacrifice Ip'emédeya," protested St'énelo.  Behind him, some men nodded, but others gazed at their wánaks with understanding.
     
    "I do not know Klutaimnéstra's heart," Meneláwo said, his voice growing ever quieter, his heart heavier.  "But I know my brother's all too well.  He blames his wife for the death of his daughter, because she was the one who sent him the seer in the first place."
     
    "What?  Have the maináds caught him?" cried St'énelo.  "Is he mad?  Qálki was not to blame for reading the will of the gods.  Still less is Klutaimnéstra to blame for sending us a prophet with true sight.  If Agamémnon blames anyone, it should be himself.  It was his impiety that angered the goddess Artémito to begin with, so that she held back the wind."
     
    "The goddess cast the plague down on us, too, because of his misdeeds," added Odushéyu, looking around at the others for support.  The men nodded.  "This makes no sense," the It'ákan went on. "People say evil things about me and some of them are actually true.  But I always take care to keep the goddess At'ána on my side.  A man can only achieve so much on his own.  Even the greatest king must be careful not to offend a deity.  Agamémnon surely understands that.  He cannot seriously blame anyone but himself for the death of his child."
     
    Wearily, Meneláwo rubbed his eyes.  "You do not have to tell me these things.  I have said them all to my brother.  But he will not listen.  Madness or not, he does blame Klutaimnéstra for their daughter's death.  He intends to divorce his queen as soon as he returns.  And you know how he is about his plans.  No man can change his mind by arguing."
     
    Unhappily, Odushéyu nodded.  "Ai, yes, I suppose you are right.  That is Agamémnon's way, to ignore the gods' role in every event.  No misfortune has ever been so great he could not blame some man or woman for it."
     
    But the lesser-ranked St'énelo began to laugh, an uncertain, almost hysterical laugh.  "He cannot divorce his wánasha.  He would lose his kingship."
     
    Meneláwo smiled, a small, humorless curvature of his lips beneath mournful eyes.  Kicking at pebbles he asked patiently, "What does a man have to do to gain kingship?  Marry a holy woman.  That is all.  And that is my brother's plan.  Agamémnon intends to take his captive, Kashánda, as his new wife.  She is a priestess."
     
    "A priestess!" St'énelo cried, laughing wildly.  "She is a Tróyan!  She serves a Wilúsiyan goddess.  The people of Argo will never accept a foreign captive