Chapter Seven:Peace Be...
"-certain your leaving the harbor will go unnoticed?"
"All is well, young one." Eudorus chucked him under the chin as you would a child. "Rest your thoughts."
Alexandros shook his wind swept curls and turned to lean heavily against the railing, his troubled, expressive brown eyes drinking in the lapping indigo shadows of the sea, savoring the coolness dusk left hanging across the cliffs. He watched the sun set, unable to find a name for the cause of his nervousness. Whatever it was, it was coming over the horizon with the sun.
A southern breeze tightened his clothing to his slender body and rippled goose-pimples across his golden skin. Closing dark eyes and taking a deep, even breath, Alexandros fidgeted for a moment in indecision. "Curses take it," he whispered fiercely.
Turning back to Eudorus, Alexandros twisted a ring from his finger and held it out. "Here. Take this to Achilles, with all my love." Just shy of the ring Alexandros yanked back his hand, hastily bringing it to his lips and kissing it lovingly before averting his face and passing away the pearl band. "There. Tell him loyalty knows nothing of wisdom, love even less and that is why I trust it. Tell him that for me."
Behind the young princes back, Eudorus saluted him with a fist over his heart and solemn bow before disappearing through the curtain. In the hall, Eudorus tucked away the priceless trinket and looked up and down the hall. Prince Hector was tucked into a corner talking quietly with king Menelaus. The words seemed heated and neither man's face wore the court-fashioned blankness the Myrmidon was so used to seeing. Snapping the hood of his black wool cloak over his face, Eudorus glided silently down the hall, keeping to the shadows and little used doors.
Agamemnon, King of Kings, traced the darkly inked curves of Greece's eastern shores on the map spread out on the table before him. Two solid gold figures of naked sea nymphs frolicking through painted waves held down the curling ends. The room in which the king lounged was lavish and dim with gray smoke that was thick and heavy in the lungs. The silk covered chairs and couches were a shade of green that lustful envy would be had it an expression, with colorful, imported tapestries depicting war and conquest were woven and hung on every available wall. One was commissioned for each city made to heel. Bobbles and offerings in tribute to his greatness filled every table space with some scattered carelessly on the floor like child's toys. Treasured heirlooms from family's centuries old were not shown the least respect- for history or craftsmanship. They simply gathered dust and represented the waste of war and Agamemnon's greed for more of it.
The thick finger sparkled with a ruby the size of a large olive. When the wandering digit finally settled, Agamemnon gave a rather satisfied sigh, lifting a cup of his strongest, darkest wine to his lips. Wiping the ripe wetness with the back of his hand, the king of all Greece nodded his head and tapped the page decisively.
"Tirigen!" He bellowed, tipping his cup again.
A page boy entered, twelve summers and winters by his form but ten if judged honestly by his face, his wheat-blond head bowed respectively. The boy, Tirigen, waited patiently for further instructions, not daring to speak.
It was a full minute before Agamemnon acknowledged him but his flashing, calculative eyes remained fastened on the page. "More wine!" The boy bobbed and fled from the oppressive heat and spicy scent of the room.
Reclining back, Agamemnon studied the square mark scaring his broad vision for the future of the powers of the Aegean. The symbol for the great golden city seemed to mock him, taunting him from across the page. Alone with only his suspicions, plots, and personal paranoia to sooth his compulsion for war mongering, the kings anger and frustration simmered. When the boy returned baring an ordered tray of wine, candied figs, bread, and honeyed dates, Agamemnon knocked the tray aside with a great clatter and drew the boy by his arm onto his lap, tearing his chiton from his slender shoulders.
"For Troy!" He laughed before he threw the screaming boy onto the table and the map.
TBC...
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