“The news we hear from Troy is grave,” Helikaon said. “Antiphones and Paris both dead. And poor Helen.”
“What of her children?” Andromache asked.
Hektor shook his head, and his silence told them everything. In the light from the fire, Andromache could see he had aged ten years since she last had seen him. His eyes sat in dark hollows, and sorrow and grief seemed permanently etched on his features. He rubbed his hands over the fire. He seemed lost in thought for a while; then he shivered as if bitter memories were returning to plague him.
He shook his head and said, “Never in my worst nightmares did I believe Agamemnon could field so many warriors.” For a while he paused, his face haunted. “Have you heard how we lost the battle for the Scamander? The treachery of the Fat King and his Lykians won the day for the western kings. After that the enemy took the fortification ditch quickly, within a day. They swarmed over it. They had the scent of victory in their nostrils, and we were hampered by trying to save our wounded.
“We have defended the lower town now for ten days, forcing Agamemnon’s armies to battle for every wall, the smallest flagstone, every bloodstained pace. There has been carnage on both sides. But all the while they were fighting to win the town, they could not surround the great walls, and we could get women and children out and your cargo in. This was our hope. Now you are here, and with the protection of Athene we will smuggle the tin into the city tonight. The forges will all be at work before dawn.
“Then,” Hektor said, looking at them, “tomorrow night, under cover of darkness, we will pull our troops back, retreat behind the walls, leave the enemy the lower town, and seal the gates.”
There was shocked silence. Then Andromache said, “But you have always believed Troy under siege would be doomed.”
Hektor nodded and stared at his hands, then started rubbing them together again, as if he could not get warm. “But I was a younger man then,” he said ruefully, “who had not seen the horrors I have seen. I always feared treachery. Our history and yours, Helikaon, tells us there is always a traitor. But now we are sealing the great gates. The West and East gates have been bricked up. Only the Scaean Gate will be left open, and the Dardanian Gate. And those can only be opened on my personal command or Polites’.”
“Polites?” Helikaon asked, frowning.
Hektor sighed. “With Dios dead and Antiphones, too, Father… Father can no longer be trusted to make decisions about the war. You have missed a great deal in the season you have been away.
“From today Polites is in charge of the defense of Troy. I will not go back there tonight. And at dawn tomorrow the Trojan Horse will ride from the Golden City, never to return until Agamemnon destroys her or gives up the fight.”
Helikaon nodded his understanding, but Andromache said, “The Trojan Horse abandon Troy? Why?”
Hektor explained gently. “We cannot be trapped in the city, Andromache. Cavalry is useless there, and we will not be able to feed the horses if the siege goes on through the summer. Water will also be in short supply. The Trojan Horse must be free to attack the enemy where they least expect it, destroy Agamemnon’s supply lines, seek out his weakest links and slice through them.”
Helikaon said, “I see that they must leave the city. But must you go with them, Cousin? If you stay in Troy, you will give the people heart. Polites is a good man, but he cannot inspire with his leadership as you can. You are the heart and soul of Troy. You are needed there. Put Kalliades in charge of the Horse. He has a fine strategic mind.”
“I have thought long and hard about it,” Hektor admitted. “But there will be nothing for me to do in a siege. I need to do the one thing I am good at.” He paused and sighed. “I can fight, and I can kill. I cannot do that behind high walls.”
Helikaon opened his mouth to speak again, but Hektor held up his hand. “My choice is made, Helikaon. The walls are impregnable. Polites will have to decide on rationing, the care of the wounded, and the safety of the gates. He will be better at all that than I.”
He looked at them, from one to the other. “But you must leave as soon as possible, both of you, once the ship is unloaded. Helikaon, the Xanthos is like the Trojan Horse. She can do little stuck in the bay, but she is priceless to our cause on the open seas, attacking Agamemnon’s supply routes, sinking his ships. The name of the Xanthos spreads terror among all seafaring men. You must make Agamemnon fear what is happening behind him and force the kings to quarrel as they lose ships and their supplies run out. The longer this goes on, the more each king will worry about what is going on at home, which leader is rising to take his place and assassinate his family.”
Helikaon drew a deep breath, but he nodded agreement. “Menados will not expect me to sail again so quickly.” He glanced at the sky, where there was a glimmer of light in the east. “We might get out again before dawn.”
Hektor told him, “The Trojan fleet has orders to go with you. It is under your command. Sink as many of Menados’ ships as you can. But they fear your fire hurlers and will probably run.”
“We are low on nephthar,” Helikaon said.
“We have brought you two wagons full.” Hektor smiled a little. “With great care.”
He stood up and said, “May Poseidon look kindly upon you both.”
“He always has,” Helikaon said.
Andromache looked from one to the other of them, anger rising in her breast. “You speak as if all decisions have been made. But I decide my own future! I am not going with you,” she said to Helikaon. “I will return to the city, as planned, and to my son.”
Hektor leaned down toward her and took her hand, pulling her to her feet.
“Escape while you can, Andromache,” he said. “I beg you! Go with the Xanthos. There is a good chance that all these men”—he gestured to the riverbank and the men hard at work unloading the tin—“will be dead by the morning. We have pushed our luck to the breaking point getting out of the city tonight. If we smuggle this tin into the city, to the forges where it is needed, it will mean Athene is truly smiling on us.” The shadows around his eyes deepened. “And her face has been turned away from Troy in recent times.”
She felt anger rising in her. “And where would I go, Hektor?”
“To Thera or to your father in Thebe. It is no longer under attack.”
She shook her head. “No, I cannot. Agamemnon wants me dead. We have more than enough evidence of that. I bring danger with me wherever I go. If Troy falls, Agamemnon will feel free to do anything he wants, even attack Thera and its sisterhood. If there is any safety for me, however ephemeral, it is in Troy. And Astyanax is there.”
Helikaon added, “And my son, Dex, is there. Why could you not get them out of the city, Hektor? You said women and children were being smuggled out.”
Hektor sighed. “Priam would not let the boys leave. They are together in the palace now. Father says that as heirs to Troy and Dardanos they will be safest in Troy. Or rather, they will be more unsafe anywhere else. This is your argument, my love.” He looked at Andromache, one eyebrow raised. “And it is a good one.”
“It is true,” she admitted. “Agamemnon will hunt them both down. He is right, Helikaon. Dex will stay with Astyanax and me. I will take care of him.”