FullReads

“It is well that Troy stands a good ten miles from the sea, for if they came out at us with a fleet they might have us at a disadvantage. We had no choice but to come here and refit, yet I shall have no happy hour until I see the white foam from the lash of our oars once more. Go, Seleucas, and speed them all you may.”

The officer bowed and departed, while the chieftain stood with his eyes fixed upon his great dismantled galley over which the riggers and carpenters were swarming. Further out in the roadstead lay eleven other smaller galleys, waiting until their wounded flagship should be ready for them. The sun, as it shone upon them, gleamed upon hundreds of bronze helmets and breastplates, telling of the warlike nature of the errand upon which they were engaged. Save for them the port was filled with bustling merchant ships taking in cargoes or disgorging them upon the quays. At the very feet of the Greek chieftain three broad barges were moored, and gangs of labourers with wooden shovels were heaving out the mussels brought from Dor, destined to supply the famous Tyrian dye-works which adorn the most noble of all garments. Beside them was a tin ship from Britain, and the square boxes of that precious metal, so needful for the making of bronze, were being passed from hand to hand to the waiting waggons. The Greek found himself smiling at the uncouth wonder of a Cornishman who had come with his tin, and who was now lost in amazement as he stared at the long colonnades of the Temple of Melmoth and the high front of the Shrine of Ashtaroth behind it. Even as he gazed some of his ship-mates passed their hands through his arms and led him along the quay to a wine-shop, as being a building much more within his comprehension. The Greek, still smiling, was turning on his heels to return to the Temple, when one of the clean-shaven priests of Baal came towards him.

“It is rumoured, sire,” said he, “that you are on a very distant and dangerous venture. Indeed, it is well known from the talk of your soldiers what it is that you have on hand.”

“It is true,” said the Greek, “that we have a hard task before us. But it would have been harder to bide at home and to feel that the honour of a leader of the Argives had been soiled by this dog from Asia.”

“I hear that all Greece has taken up the quarrel.”

“Yes, there is not a chief from Thessaly to the Malea who has not called out his men, and there were twelve hundred galleys in the harbour of Aulis.”

“It is a great host,” said the priest. “But have ye any seers or prophets among ye who can tell what will come to pass?”

“Yes, we had one such, Calchas his name. He has said that for nine years we shall strive, and only on the tenth will the victory come.”

“That is but cold comfort,” said the priest. “It is, indeed, a great prize which can be worth ten years of a man’s life.”

“I would give,” the Greek answered, “not ten years but all my life if I could but lay proud Ilium in ashes and carry back Helen to her palace on the hill of Argos.”

“I pray Baal, whose priest I am, that you may have good fortune,” said the Ph[oe]nician. “I have heard that these Trojans are stout soldiers, and that Hector, the son of Priam, is a mighty leader.”

The Greek smiled proudly.

“They must be stout and well-fed also,” said he, “if they can stand the brunt against the long-haired Argives with such captains as Agamemnon, the son of Atreus from golden Mycenae, or Achilles, son of Peleus, with his myrmidons. But these things are on the knees of the Fates. In the meantime, my friend, I would fain know who these strange people are who come down the street, for their chieftain has the air of one who is made for great deeds.”