Second chapter - hurrah! It's quite long, but there was a lot to put in. Third and final chapter should be up soonish, but if I get reviews it'll be up sooner (hint hint). So when you're done reading this chapter, hit that buttin at the bottom and write me a lovely review. Or flame me...I really couldn't give a damn. Constructive criticism is best, though.
They literally trip over me. Two Trojan soldiers step back to get a better look at the magnificent offering and one of the fools trips over me and disturbs the first proper night's sleep I've had in a fortnight. It had been cold though, under the stars with no watch fires nearby. Though I have to say, the disguise is one even Odysseus would be proud of. Like he so eloquently said the day before, I look shit. But now is the time to start the act – exit Sinon, Odysseus' cousin; enter Sinon the Argive.
I grovel in the dust at their feet. "Spare me," I moan, or rather croak – gods, my throat's dry! "Please, I beg you."
They say nothing, and I don't dare look up to see their expressions, but I imagine that they look somewhat surprised. One of them grabs me and pulls me to my feet. He lets go, but my legs buckle and I fall back down to the ground. Once again, he pulls me up, but this time, he also supports my weight. He speaks to his companion in Luuvian, which I understand perfectly, though it is an idea to appear confused.
"We should take him to Priam," he says. "He might know what this," he indicates the horse, "is for." He switches languages, now speaking in thickly accented Greek, which is less understandable than his Luuvian. "What is the horse for?" he asks me. I begin to hoarsely babble out my well-rehearsed story, in the fashion of a terrified man. At the end he nods.
"Very well. We'll take you to our king, and then you can tell him all of that."
"Bind his hands," his companion hisses in Luuvian. "How do we know if he speaks the truth?" I swiftly come to the conclusion that this is a man of reasonable sense, although slightly paranoid. The first looks at him incredulously, but then shrugs and, lacking any rope, undoes his belt and with it, binds my hands behind my back. One of them walks behind me, pushing me forwards, the other keeps a tight hold on my arm, keeping me upright and at the same time, dragging me to the king of Troy.
Priam looks me over, briefly, but never so much as glances at my face. I imagine that my body looks piteous enough. He doesn't want to see any further pain that may be reflected in my eyes. Pallas Athena, is my cousin ever wrong?
"Who, exactly, are you?" he asks. A simple enough question, so I respond with a simple enough answer. Well...not quite.
"My name's Sinon. I'm a cousin of Diomedes. I was a nobleman, well respected back home in Argos, and now look at me! If it hadn't been for that Ithacan bastard..."
"You mean Odysseus?"
"Who else? If it hadn't been for the Ithacan fox – unless of course the rumours are true," these rumours being the ones that Odysseus was not Laertes' son, but Sisyphus' – something my cousin does not like discussing, "I wouldn't have been left here to starve to death while everyone else went home." And that told Priam that what he had hoped was true – of a sort.
"They've gone home? Why?"
"It was the will of the gods. The fox...well, by now you'll have realised that your Palladium is missing. He stole it – insulted the goddess who has always championed him and Athena made it known to us that if we Greeks didn't return home and make proper sacrifices we would never conquer your great city. She also insisted that we build that horse," I indicate it with my head, my hands still bound tightly behind my back, "to replace the Palladium."
"Couldn't they just have returned the Palladium?" asks one of Priam's sons. Which one? He has a face not unlike a horse's...Deiphobos, that's the name. He'd married Helen against her wishes after Paris had died.
"Not after that bastard laid his thieving hands on it!" Deiphobos flushes.
"Of...of course," he stammers. "Carry on, Sinon." Naturally, I comply.
"We began building the horse, but then we heard tell of a prophecy. It said if it ever the horse ever passed through the Skaian Gate Troy would be indestructible, so Odysseus suggested that we make it too big to pass through. We already know that your walls can't be destroyed – I mean, they were built by the gods..."
Priam looked delighted by this news. "We'll order men to pull down the wall above the Skaian Gate," he shouts with glee. Unfortunately, not all the Trojans are of a like mind.
"It's a trick," a man behind the king states. "Sire, don't you think that this is all just a little too convenient. Why was Sinon left here in the first place, for a start? And, by all the gods, the thing has wheels!"
"That's a fair point, Laocoon," pipes up Deiphobos. "Why does it have wheels?"
Shit. Of all the questions! Only one answer to try... "The gods wanted us to make something of an effort." Priam and Deiphobos look convinced, but this Laocoon is anything but.
"And why were you left here?" he asks, coldly.
I grimace. I had been hoping to get away with not having to tell this particular story – bad enough that I had needed to imply that I believed Odysseus to be the illegitimate son of Sisyphus (although it would explain a lot), but to add further insult to his name! But Laocoon is glaring suspiciously at me, so I hurriedly begin.
"You all know about Odysseus' feigned madness, and how it was revealed by Palamedes of Nauplia?" There is a general murmur of assent. "Well, the fox never forgave Palamedes. See, the Nauplian made a dangerous enemy by forcing Odysseus to join the war. The Ithacan can wait a lifetime for vengeance, but he only had to wait eight years to get back at Palamedes. One night, he captured a Trojan prisoner. This man told the kings that Palamedes had been passing information to you, King Priam. Agamemnon, persuaded by Odysseus, took the man's word to be true and ordered Palamedes' execution.
"Now, I had guessed that Odysseus was behind that, and I guessed right. I confronted the Ithacan and he made be swear, on pain of death, not to breathe a word. And I didn't – not until I realised that he was plotting my downfall, too.
"There was an ill wind before we prepared to sail home. The prophet Calchas came forward and told us that the gods were demanding a sacrifice before they would allow us to sail home. He named me as the victim. I realised at once that Odysseus was using the weather as an excuse to be rid of me, that he had probably bribed Calchas to offer me as a sacrifice. Naturally, I told all of the kings what had happened, but none of them believed me – not even my own cousin! Even Diomedes, who I had played with as a child took the Ithacan's side against mine!
"There was nothing I could do. I was put under guard and began to despair for my life, but I was more fortunate than I could have ever dreamed. The man guarding me had heard of what I had said, and he believed me! In the dead of night, he allowed me to escape. What became of him, I don't know. All I k now is that the wind changed and the fleet sailed back to Greece, apparently forgetting about me."
Laocoon continues to glare at me. "For an ill man, you are surprisingly eloquent," he says, dryly.
I'm half tempted to reply in the same dry manner, saying it runs in the family. But instead, I merely answer with, "The gods wished that my story be heard," and leave it there. But he still doesn't believe me. He picks up a spear and hurls it at the horse. The sound it makes is certainly not solid.
"Why is it hollow, Sinon?" I shrug.
"I didn't make it. Maybe there wasn't enough wood?"
Laocoon turns back to Priam. "Sire, I still believe that this is a trick. He is too well-rehearsed, and there is something distinctly familiar about him..."
Shit.
Priam shakes his head. "You're wrong. The horse cannot be a trick. Sinon speaks the truth." He turns to his son. "Deiphobos, order men to destroy the wall above the Skaian Gate so that we can bring the horse into the city, and then have it pulled into the courtyard of the temple of Athena." Deiphobos runs off eagerly, barking out orders to Trojan men as he goes. All of a sudden, he stops and stares at the beach.
Two young boys are staring at the waves; a sea-serpent is swimming towards them. People scream, shouting at the boys to run, but they do not move – they are frozen with fear. Laocoon gives a strangled cry of anguish.
"My sons!" He rushes onto the shore and grabs them both by the hands, but he is too late. The serpent is upon all three of them, its slimy body twisting around them, its huge jaws widening. When the creature swims away, there are no remains.
"Shit," I mutter. "That was...unexpected, to say the least."
Priam is pale and silent for a moment, and then he gives a shout. "It was the will of the gods! Laocoon dared to doubt the horse, and he and his were struck down. Let the artefact be brought into the city!" The Trojans cheer, someone finally unbinds my hands and I am dragged into a crowd of overly joyous people.
"Wait!" a voice cries out. The crowd ceases its cheering and comes to a halt. A beautiful woman steps forward and places her hand on Priam's arm. So this is Helen!
"Please allow be to try something. We want to be sure that it isn't a trick."
"Helen," Priam says, gently. "You saw what happened to Laocoon. I would not risk your life as well, but if that is what you want..." He can deny her nothing, like all the other men she's met. She walks forwards and stands before the horse.
"Menelaus!" she shouts. "Do you hear me, my husband?"
No reply.
Her voice changes to sound like...her sister?
"Agamemnon! Are you there?"
No reply – and no wonder, he is with the fleet.
The next voice she uses is all too familiar.
"Odysseus, my heart! Answer me!"
Again, there is no reply, but I can't imagine the agony this is putting my cousin through. To hear a voice that, for ten years, he's only heard in dreams, and to have to refrain from answering!
Helen calls to each of the kings and princes in the voices of their wives, and my heart is in my mouth each time she opens hers. But there is never a reply. Thank all the gods! Having finished, she sighs heavily. "Well," she says. "There was no harm in trying." Once again the cheering begins, and I am dragged back into the crowd.
There has been much feasting. I have eaten plenty, but drunk only enough to steady my nerves (admittedly, this is quite a lot, but a fair amount less than usual.) No one noticed when I left. Now I am sat underneath the horse, waiting for nightfall, when I can release the men within and light the signal fire.