The Hittite - Ben Bova [73]
I heard myself say, “I can get you inside their walls.”
“You?”
I pointed toward the city up on the bluff, bathed now in reddish gold by the setting sun. “See the course of the wall, where it is lower than the rest?” It was the western side of the city, where the garrulous courtier had told me that the defenses were weaker.
“Still twice the height of a grown man,” Odysseos muttered.
“My men can build siege towers and wheel them up to that part of the wall so that your warriors can climb up inside them and step from their topmost platforms right onto the battlements of the wall.”
“Towers?” Odysseos asked. “Taller than the wall? How can that be?”
“We have done it before, my lord. We build the towers of wood, and place them on rollers so that we can bring them up against the wall.”
For a long moment Odysseos said nothing. Then, “But the Trojans would destroy the towers as you approached the wall.”
“With what?” I challenged. “Spears? Arrows? Even if they shoot flaming arrows, we’ll have the towers covered with wetted horse hides.”
“But they’ll concentrate their men at that one point and beat you off.”
I realized that Odysseos was no fool. He grasped the concept of the siege towers even though he had never seen one in his life. And he immediately understood the weak point of my plan.
“Usually we build three or four towers and attack several spots along the fortifications at the same time. Or we create some other diversion that keeps the enemy’s forces busy elsewhere.”
“You’ve done this before?”
“Many times, my lord. Our army cracked the walls of Babylon that way.”
“Babylon!”
“A much bigger city than Troy, my lord. With higher walls.”
Odysseos scratched at his thick black beard. “The High King must hear of this.”
Yes, I said to myself. This is the gift I offer to Agamemnon in exchange for my wife and sons.
5
Odysseos bade me wait with my men while he changed into clothing more fitting for a visit to the High King. And he sent a messenger to Agamemnon to tell him of his desire for an audience.
I went down to our little camp, where Magro and the others were gathering around the evening cook fire. Poletes scrambled to his feet, eager to know what had transpired with Odysseos.
“We’re going to Agamemnon,” I said, perhaps a bit pompously, “to tell the High King how to win this war.” And get my sons and wife back, I added silently.
Once I outlined the idea of the siege towers, Poletes shook his head. “You’re too greedy for victory, my master. You want to win everything and leave nothing for the gods to decide.”
He seemed almost angry.
I asked, “But men fight wars to win, don’t they?”
“Men fight wars for glory, for spoils, and for tales to tell their grandchildren. A man should go into battle to prove his bravery, to face a champion and test his destiny. You want to use tricks and machines to win your battle.” Poletes actually spat into the sand to show his displeasure.
I reminded him, “Yet you yourself have scorned these warriors and called them bloodthirsty fools.”
“That they are! But at least they fight fairly, champion to champion, as men should fight.”
I laughed. “Windy old storyteller, all’s fair in love and war.”
For once Poletes had no answer. He grumbled to himself and turned back to the fire and the kettle with supper simmering in it.
Odysseos came down from his boat, dressed in a clean robe and a deep blue cloak. Two young men in leather vests and helmets walked a respectful three paces behind him.
“Come, Hittite, we go to Agamemnon.”
As we walked through the camp, Odysseos asked me, “You can put wheels on these towers and pull them up to the walls?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“While under fire?”
“Yes, my lord.”
And these men you have with you know how to build such towers?”
“We have done it before, sire. We’ll need a team of workers: axmen, carpenters, workmen.”
He nodded. “No problem there.”
As we walked toward the cabin of Agamemnon, I wondered that none of these Achaians had thought of building siege towers earlier. Then