The Hittite - Ben Bova [84]
I thought of my wife and sons. They’ll be safe enough here in camp. The troops will all be in the city, burning, raping, slaughtering in a frenzy of release.
And Helen will be in the temple of Aphrodite, waiting for the fate that will overtake her.
I didn’t sleep well that night.
The camp’s roosters raised their raucous cry of morning. I went to the latrine trench, then washed and shared a bowl of lentil soup with my men. Poletes was jabbering away. He had learned that the Trojans had sent a delegation to ask for the return of Hector’s dismembered body. Try as they might to keep the news of Achilles’ death a secret, the Achaians were unable to keep the Trojan emissaries from finding out the news. The whole camp was buzzing with it, although none but Odysseos and a few other nobles knew that Achilles had committed suicide.
Agamemnon’s council met with the Trojan delegation, and after some gruff negotiating agreed to return Hector’s body. The Trojans suggested a three-day truce so that both sides could properly honor their slain and Agamemnon’s council swiftly agreed.
We used the three days of truce to build the first siege tower. My men and I camped among the trees on the far side of the Scamander River, screened from Trojan eyes by the riverbank’s line of greenery. Odysseos, who above all the Achaians appreciated the value of scouting and intelligence-gathering, spread a number of his best men along the riverbank to prevent any stray Trojan woodcutters from getting near us. The wind usually blew past the city and farther inland, but occasionally it changed briefly and I feared that the Trojans could hear our hewing and hammering and sawing. I hoped they would take it as a shipbuilding chore and nothing more.
We commandeered dozens of slaves and thetes to do the dogwork of chopping down the trees and hauling loads of timber. My men commanded work crews with stern efficiency, but even so, by the end of the third day we had only one tower ready for use.
Odysseos, Agamemnon and the other leaders came across the river that evening to inspect our work. We had built the tower horizontally, of course, laying it along the ground, partly because it was easier to do it that way but mainly to keep it hidden behind the still-standing trees. Once it got dark enough, I had several dozens slaves and thetes haul on ropes to pull it up to its true vertical position.
Agamemnon scowled at it. “It’s not as tall as the city walls,” he complained.
Odysseos shot me a questioning glance.
“This first one is tall enough, my lord king,” I said, “to top the western wall. That is the weakest point in the Trojan defenses. Even the Trojans admit that that section of their walls was not built by Apollo and Poseidon.”
Nestor bobbed his white beard. “A wise choice, young man. Never defy the gods, it will only bring grief to you. Even if you seem to succeed at first the gods will soon bring you low because of your hubris. Look at poor Achilles, so full of pride. Yet a lowly arrow has been his downfall.”
As soon as Nestor took a breath I rushed to continue, “I have been inside the city, my lords. I know its layout. The west wall is on the highest side of the bluff. Once we get past that wall we will be on high ground inside the city, close to the palace and the temples.”
Odysseos agreed. To Agamemnon he said, “I, too, have served as an emissary, if you recall, and I have studied the city’s streets and buildings carefully. The Hittite speaks truly. If we broke through the Scaean Gate we would still have to fight through the city’s streets, uphill every step of the way. Breaking in over the west wall is better.”
“Can we get this thing up the bluff to the wall there?” Agamemnon asked.
I replied, “The slope is not as steep at the west wall as it is to the north and east, my lord. The southern side is easiest, but that’s where the Scaean and Dardanian Gates are located. It’s the most heavily defended, with the highest walls and tall watchtowers alongside