Steep Wilusiya (Age of Bronze) Read Free

his aching back.  "A song you want.  A song you will have."  He threw his head back and bawled the words, not especially musically.  "Listen, men of Ak'áiwiya.  These are fine days to live in, but the past was truly golden.  Living men cannot match the deeds of our ancestors."  He struck a discordant note upon the lúra and took a deep breath.  In a gravelly voice, hoarse from overuse, he sang:
     
    "Artop'ágo, king of Mice,
    Called up his loyal qasiléyus:
    'O Mice, three evils have been mine.
    I lost three children, dear to me.
     
    'The first was raped by yonder Weasel,
    Carried to 'Aidé, I fear.
    The second, Man has torn from me--
    Deceitful traps have killed my son.
     
    'But now the worst of all the fates
    Has come to Lík'enor, the prince.
    The Frogs have lured him to their pond
    And strangled him upon the deep.
     
    'O Mice, my brothers, don your arms,
    your bull-rush spears and flat bread shields.
    Put nutshell helmets on your heads,
    with bean pod greaves protect your legs.'
     
    The wine gnats gave the battle-cry…"
     
    He stopped his raucous singing and made a high-pitched buzzing sound, his tongue against his teeth.
     
    Roaring with laughter, the slender St'énelo threw a terra cotta cup at the singer's head.  "That is enough, T'érsite!  I wanted heroes, not frogs and mice."
     
    The broad-chested singer protested in mock anger, "But I have not told you who won."
     
    "I know who won," St'énelo crowed.  "The frogs drove the mice into the pond and slaughtered them."
     
    "Yes," laughed T'érsite, pointing to the sky, "but then the gods sent in the lobsters’ army to eat the frogs."
     
    Diwoméde did not join the laughter.  He swallowed hard.  Staring into his murky wine, he said, "Those words make me think of how prophets speak.  The messages from the oracles of 'Elléniya and Put'ó are like that, all in symbols.  I heard many such mysterious prophecies when I was a boy. 'By the will of the Bull,' they would say, and 'beneath the wings of the Dove.'  Your song may foretell our fate…"
     
    T'érsite's mirth dissipated quickly at the thought.  St'énelo, too, was abruptly solemn.
     
    "Are we the mice, then, do you think?" Diwoméde asked, nervously rubbing the sparse whiskers of youth on his chin.  But he did not receive an answer.
     
    Agamémnon, listening quietly, muttered to himself, "What I want to know is, who are the lobsters?"
     
    "Agamémnon," Meneláwo called, coming out of the shadows.  "I must speak to you, brother."
     
    The other three rose as Meneláwo appeared, T'érsite and St'énelo helping the younger man to walk.  They left Agamémnon's campfire, St'énelo casting many backward glances at the brother kings.
     
    Meneláwo set down his burdens and sat beside his older brother.  He spoke in a conspiratorial whisper.  "I saw the Tróyans' allies leaving just now.  The Pálayans and Mírans have abandoned the city."
     
    Agamémnon raised his bushy eyebrows.  "This is good news!" he exclaimed quietly.  "And what about the Lúkiyans?"
     
    Meneláwo frowned and shook his head.  Rubbing his damp mustache, he stared thoughtfully into the fire.  "No.  They did not leave.  Their king, Sharpaduwánna, was a good friend of Qántili's.  He and his Lúkiyans will stay to avenge the prince's death, I am sure."
     
    Now it was the bigger man's turn to become thoughtful.  "I will call the troop leaders to my tent in the morning," Agamémnon decided after a moment of silence.  "We will decide then what to do.  But now, you should go to your tent and get some sleep.  The men are beginning to talk about you, brother."
     
    "I know," Meneláwo said.  But he made no move to leave.  His dark-rimmed eyes fell upon his half-empty wine-bag.  He lifted it and poured himself another cup.  As he reached for the poppy flask, his brother caught his hand.
     
    "You have had enough tonight," Agamémnon scolded.  His voice was low, threatening, the voice of an overlord and not