Warriors in Bronze Read Free Page A

personable squires waiting beside the tables; unless I was bent that way I had best leave swiftly on urgent errands. I did not draw away. No lewdness existed here, only an urgent excitement betrayed by the working face, by sweat drops beading his cheeks. None the less I felt embarrassed. The man was decidedly odd, and I wished he would give me permission to go.
    'Your mother,' he said hoarsely. 'No, don't tell me! Let me think...' He ran fingers through his hair, golden and streaked with grey despite the comparative youthfulness his unscarred features attested. 'Anaxibia? No, that's another. Who was Anaxibia...?'
    I opened my mouth to tell him and caught, across the boisterous Hall, Atreus' eyes on mine. He looked both anxious and angry, and beckoned imperatively. Welcoming the pretext I said gently, 'I am summoned elsewhere, my lord. Have I your leave?'
    Like the flame of a torch plunged quickly in water his face went blank, expressionless; the tenseness left his limbs and his body went lax in the chair. 'Leave?' he asked vacantly. 'Cer­tainly. Why are you here? Ah, yes, the wine. Very passable, perhaps not fully mature; a thought too sweet for my taste. Where did you say it came from ? No matter - off you go.'
    I hastened between the tables to the Marshal's side. 'Pour wine,' he snapped. 'My throat is dry as a virgin's crotch. Where the blazes have you been ? Your job is to keep my goblet filled - haven't you been told?'
    "Yes, my lord,' I answered submissively. 'I was delayed in serving a gentleman yonder' - I pointed my chin to the outer tables - 'who asked me —'
    'I saw you.' Cold blue eyes bored into my brain. 'His name is Plisthenes. You will never, Agamemnon, speak to him again. Is that understood?'
    I nodded mutely, and tilted the flagon.
     
    ***
     
    The strenuous existence which a squire suffered under training often made me yearn for my former life - a pampered child in the mighty Marshal's household. At the end of the day Idropped into bed and slept like a corpse; and seldom found the energy to cross the palace courtyard to Atreus' apartments or the quarters where my mother lived.
    But I cannot honestly say I missed my mother.
    A delicate subject.
    Aerope was then about twenty-five years old, small and dark, vivacious and voluptuous and fatally attractive. Lively hazel eyes in an oval face the colour of old ivory, a flawless skin, short tip-tilted nose and wide red mouth. Her open bodice revealed imperious breasts, nipples painted scarlet, inviting the clasp of a lustful masculine hand.
    Lest sunlight darken delicate complexions many of the palace's noble ladies lounged all day indoors gossiping and prinking, only venturing out at evening to take the air in litters or to lie on rooftop couches watching the world go by. Not Aerope. She handled the reins as cleverly as any Companion, and followed boar hunts dressed like a man in kilt and deerskin boots, galloping her chariot over the roughest going. Amid all her entertainments she found time, in successive years, to bear me and Menelaus and our sister Anaxibia: a harmless little creature who lived in her mother's apartments and hardly enters my story.
    Aerope had forbidden us unannounced visits to her rooms since a day when Menelaus and I, both very young, trotted in unexpectedly and found Atreus caressing her in a most fami­liar way. We were neither surprised nor shocked; to small children the relationships of adults are both esoteric and un­interesting; but Atreus, flushed and annoyed, ordered us sharply away. We ran out, hurt and chastened.
    On the occasions, nowadays infrequent, when I visited my mother I expected to find Atreus there - and usually did. She inquired sweetly after my health, hoped I was not overworked, and exclaimed at my physique - I was growing fast and developing hard muscles. Atreus amiably ruffled my hair and tweaked an incipient beard. I answered as manners dictated and left when politeness permitted. These were duty visits, which did