Lord of the Silver Bow Read Free

proud.”
    “What more have you seen?” said Agamemnon. “Speak now! Death is upon you.”
    “I have no fear of death, King of Swords, King of Blood, King of Plunder. Nor should you. You will live forever, Agamemnon, in the hearts and minds of men. When your father’s name has fallen to dust and whispered away on the winds of time, yours will be spoken loud and often. When your line is a memory and all kingdoms have come to ashes, still your name will echo. This I have seen.”
    “This is more to my liking,” said the king. “What else? Be swift now, for your time is short. Give a name to the greatest danger I will face.”
    “You desire but a name? How . . . strange men are. You could have . . . asked for answers, Agamemnon.” The old man’s voice was fading and slurring. The hemlock was reaching his brain.
    “Give me a name and I will
know
the answer.”
    Another flash of anger lit the old man’s eyes, holding back the advancing poison. When he spoke, his voice was stronger. “Alektruon asked me for a name when I was but a seer and not blessed—as now—with the wisdom of the dying. I named Helikaon, the Golden One. And what did he do . . . this foolish man? He sailed the seas in search of Helikaon and brought his doom upon himself. Now you seek a name, Agamemnon King. It is the same name: Helikaon.” The old priest closed his eyes. The silence grew.
    “Helikaon threatens me?” the king asked.
    The dying priest spoke again. “I see men burning like candles, and . . . a ship of flame. I see a headless man . . . and a great fury. I see . . . I see many ships, like a great flock of birds. I see war, Agamemnon, long and terrible, and the deaths of many heroes.” With a shuddering cry he fell back into the arms of the veiled woman.
    “Is he dead?” Agamemnon asked.
    The woman felt for a pulse and then nodded. Agamemnon swore.
    A powerful warrior moved alongside him, his hair so blond that it appeared white in the lamplight. “He spoke of a great horse, lord. The sails of Helikaon’s ships are all painted with the symbol of a rearing black horse.”
    Agamemnon remained silent. Helikaon was kin to Priam, the king of Troy, and Agamemnon had a treaty of alliance with Troy and with most of the trading kingdoms on the eastern coast. While maintaining those treaties he also financed pirate raids by Mykene galleys, looting the towns of his allies and capturing trade ships and cargoes of copper, tin, lead, alabaster, and gold. Each one of the galleys tithed him its takings. The plunder allowed him to equip his armies and bestow favors on his generals and soldiers. Publicly, though, he denounced the pirates and threatened them with death, and so he could not openly declare Helikaon an enemy of Mykene. Troy was a rich and powerful kingdom, and that trade alone brought in large profits, paid in copper and tin, without which bronze armor and weapons could not be made.
    War with the Trojans was coming, but he was not ready to make an enemy of their king.
    The fumes from the prophecy fire were less noxious now, and Agamemnon felt his head clearing. The priest’s words had been massively reassuring. He would have a son, and the name of Agamemnon would echo through the ages.
    Yet the old man also had spoken about seeds of doom, and he could not ignore the warning.
    He looked the blond man in the eye. “Let it be known, Kolanos, that twice a man’s weight in gold awaits whoever kills Helikaon.”
    “Every pirate ship on the Great Green will hunt him down for such a reward,” said Kolanos. “By your leave, my king, I will also take my three galleys in search of him. However, it will not be easy to draw him out. He is a cunning fighter and cool in battle.”
    “Then you will make him less cool, my breaker of spirits,” said Agamemnon. “Find those Helikaon loves and kill them. He has family in Dardanos, a young brother he dotes on. Begin with him. Let Helikaon know rage and despair. Then rip his life from