The Hittite - Ben Bova [23]
“My servant,” I answered.
Odysseos nodded, accepting the storyteller. Lightning flashed and he looked up, waiting for the thunder. When it came at last he muttered, “The storm moves away.”
Indeed, the rain seemed to be slacking off. Its pelting on the canvas of the tent was noticeably lighter.
At last Odysseos said, “You did us a great service this morning. Such service should be rewarded.”
The frail old whitebeard at his left spoke in an abrasive nasal voice, “You fought this morning like a warrior born and bred. Facing Prince Hector by yourself! Half naked, too! By the gods! You reminded me of myself when I was your age! I was absolutely fearless then! As far away as Mycenae and even Thebes I was known. Let me tell you—”
Odysseos raised his right hand. “Please, Nestor, I pray you forgo your reminiscences for the moment.”
The old man looked displeased but sank back in silence.
“You say you seek your wife and sons,” Odysseos resumed. “Then you are not here as a representative of your emperor?”
Again I hesitated. And again I decided there was nothing to tell him but the truth.
“There is no emperor, my lord. The lands of the Hatti are torn with civil war. The empire has crumbled.”
Their jaws dropped open. Odysseos swiftly recovered, but he could not hide the smile that crossed his face.
Nestor blurted, “Then the Hittites are not sending troops to aid the Trojans?”
“No, my lord.”
“You came here by yourself ?” Odysseos asked.
“With the eleven men of my squad.” Poletes coughed beside me, and I added, “And my servant.”
Rubbing his beard with one hand, his eyes going crafty, Odysseos murmured, “Then Troy can expect no help from the Hittites.”
Nestor and the other nobleman broke into happy smiles. “This is indeed good news,” said Nestor. “Wonderful news!”
Odysseos nodded, then said, “But it doesn’t change the situation we face. Hector is camped on the plain outside our rampart. Tomorrow he will try to break through and drive us into the sea.”
That sobered the other two.
He looked up at me again. “We owe you a reward. What would you have?”
Immediately I replied, “My wife and sons.”
“You say they are among Agamemnon’s slaves.”
“I saw my wife there, yes, my lord.”
Odysseos breathed out a sigh. “Slaves are the property of he who owns them.”
“They are my sons,” I said firmly. “Little more than babies. And she is my lawful wife.”
He rubbed at his beard again. “The High King is touchy these days about giving up his slaves. He’s in the midst of a dispute with young Achilles about a slave woman.”
“That’s none of my affair, my lord.”
“No, it isn’t. But still . . .” He glanced up at Nestor again, who remained stone silent now. For long moments Odysseos sat there, saying nothing. It appeared to me that he was thinking, planning. At last he got to his feet and stepped around the table to clasp me on the shoulder.
“What is your name, Hittite?”
“I am called Lukka, my lord.”
“Very well, Lukka,” he said. “I will speak to Agamemnon— when the time is right. Meanwhile, welcome into the house hold of the King of Ithaca. You and your men.” Poletes shuffled his feet slightly. “And your servant,” Odysseos added.
I was not certain of what I should do until I saw Nestor frowning slightly and prompting me by motioning with both hands, palms down. I knelt on one knee before Odysseos.
“Thank you, great king,” I said, hoping it was with the proper degree of humility. “I and my men will serve you to the best of our abilities.”
Odysseos took the armlet from his bicep and clasped it on my arm. “Rise, Lukka the Hittite. Your courage and strength shall be a welcome addition to our forces.” To the officer who had led us in, still standing behind Poletes and me, he said, “Antiklos, see that they get proper garb and all else that they require.”
Then he nodded a dismissal at me. I turned and we marched away from Odysseos and the two others. Poletes was beaming at me, but I realized that my travel-worn clothes must look threadbare to the Achaians. Antiklos looked me up and down again as if measuring me, not