Doctor Who_ The Myth Makers - Donald Cotton [7]
‘Have a care, pirate!’ warned Achilles, ‘Are there no Trojan throats to slit, that you dare to tempt my sword?’
Odysseus considered the question, and came up with an undebatable answer. ‘Throats enough, I grant you. A half score Trojans will not whistle easily tonight. We found ‘em laughing by the ramparts, now they smile with their bellies. And what of you?’ He wiped the evidence from his cutlass. ‘Been busy have you?’
Achilles played his ace. ‘Nothing to speak of,’ he said modestly, ‘I met Prince Hector. There he lies.’
Astonished for once in his life, Odysseus noted the bleeding remains – and you could tell he was impressed. ‘Zeus,’ he exclaimed.
‘Zeus was instrumental,’ acknowledged Achilles gracefully, with a bow to the Doctor. Perhaps not surprisingly, the significance of this escaped Odysseus.
‘No doubt,’ he said, ‘no doubt he was. But what a year this is for plague! The strongest must fall... Prince Hector, eh? Well, that he should come to this! You stumbled on him here, you say, as he lay dying?’
‘I met him here in single combat, Odysseus.’
‘The deuce you did? And fled him round the walls, till down he fell exhausted? A famous victory!’
‘I met him face to face, I say,’ scowled Achilles, stamping. ‘I battled with him for an hour or more, until my greater skill o’ercame him! Beaten to his knees, he cried for mercy. Whereat I was almost moved to spare him...’
‘Oh, bravo,’ rumbled his appreciative audience.
Well, I could have said what really happened, of course, but I didn’t like to interrupt – Achilles was all too obviously getting intoxicated by his talent for embroidery...
‘But, mark this, Odysseus; as I was about to sheathe my sword in pity, there was a flash of lightning – and Lord Zeus appeared, who urged me on to strike.’
‘And so, of course, you struck – like lightning? Well, boy –
there, as you say, Prince Hector lies, and there your lance remains in seeming proof of it! I must ask your pardon...’
‘So I should think,’ hissed Achilles through pursed lips.
‘But tell me, Lightfoot, what of Zeus? He intervened, I think you said? And then?’
‘Why there he stands – and listens to your mockery.’
‘Yes indeed, I’ve been most interested,’ said the Doctor, getting a word in edgewise.
I wouldn’t have advised it myself. A cut-throat or two did look vaguely apprehensive, but their leader rocked with the sort of laughter you hear in Athenian taverns at closing time.
‘What, that old man? That thread-bare grey pate? Now, come, Achilles.’
‘Odysseus, your blasphemy and laughter at the gods is very well in Ithaca. Think, though, before you dare indulge it here!
Forgive him, Father Zeus – he is but a rough and simple sailor, who joined our holy cause for booty.’
‘Aye, very rough, but scarce as simple as you seem to think!’
growled the gallant captain, snapping a spear between his nerveless fingers.
‘Oh, but there’s nothing at all to forgive,’ the Doctor hastened to assure him, ‘I’ve no doubt he means well.’
‘Then will you not come with us?’ begged Achilles. Abject now, he was.
‘Well, no – I hardly think... thank you, all the same...’
Useless. Odysseus stumped forward, and siezed him by the scruff.
‘What’s that. You will come with us, man – or god, as I should say! If you indeed be Zeus, we have much need of your assistance! Don’t cower there, lads. Zeus is on our side – or so Agamemnon keeps insisting. And since he has been so condescending as to visit us, bear him up, and carry him in triumph to the camp!’
The Doctor struggled, of course; but it was plainly no use. A bunch of tattooed ruffians tossed him aloft like a teetotum in a tantrum, and set him on their sweating shoulders. To do him credit, Achilles at least objected. ‘Odysseus, I claim the honour to escort him! Let him walk to the camp with me!’
But not a bit of good did it do. Odysseus glowered like the Rock of Gibralter on a dull day. ‘You shall have honour enough, lad, before the night’s out. And, who knows? maybe we shall have a little of the truth as well. Father Zeus, we crave the pleasure of your company