Free The Oracles of Troy (The Adventures of Odysseus) by Glyn Iliffe

it?’ he repeated, his soft lisp becoming more pronounced.
    She pointed at the decapitated body of the snake, the blood of which was still wet on her face, neck and chest.
    ‘Yes, Helenus, I did it.’
    A smile spread across Helenus’s face. He stared down at his sister, his lustful curiosity replaced by an eagerness to hear more.
    ‘And? Did he answer? Did Apollo come to you?’
    Cassandra met her younger brother’s gaze. He had inherited Priam’s handsome looks and piercing eyes, but there was none of his mother’s kindness in them. Hecabe’s only legacy to her son was her weedy, diminutive stature, which he hated because it meant he would never be a powerful warrior like his older brothers, winning honour in battle and earning the adoration of the people. Instead, he was destined to live in their shadow, privileged by his royal blood and yet overlooked because of his youth.
    ‘Of course he came. Does he ever miss the opportunity to torture me?’ she replied. ‘And, yes, he gave me visions.’
    ‘Of the future?’
    Cassandra thought of the soldier in the temple of Athena, but that was personal. A gift from Apollo for her alone. She shook her head.
    ‘No, something greater. He gave me three oracles, the keys to Troy’s survival – or her destruction!’
    ‘What were they?’ he insisted, his voice harsh and eager.
    Cassandra held her hand out to him and he helped her to her feet, his eyes dropping to her bloodied breasts again as the halves of her dress fell open.
    ‘I’m your sister , Helenus,’ she reminded him, standing up straight and no longer trying to hide her nakedness.
    Helenus’s lowered his eyes to the floor. Seeing the heap of Cassandra’s cloak, he picked it up and – averting his gaze – handed it to her. Cassandra threw it about her shoulders and leaned back against the altar, lightly scrutinising her brother as he stood before her. Normally his clothes were expensive and fashionable, as befitted a son of Priam, but tonight she could see he wore the white robes of a priest beneath his rich double cloak. Not that he was a priest yet, of course – most priests of Apollo had shaven heads and were at least twice Helenus’s age – but he was already an initiate and had used his father’s authority to become an apprentice at the temple in Pergamos. His royal blood ensured he would one day rise to the priesthood, a position of power and influence, but not for many years yet. Not unless he could show Apollo had singled him out for a higher office. And for that he had to provide proof he had received the god’s blessing.
    He glanced at Cassandra, saw that she was covered, and reached out to place his hands on her upper arms.
    ‘What are these oracles, Sister? If we know the secrets of Troy’s survival, given to us by the gods themselves, then the Greeks can never be victorious! Tell them to me so that I can announce them before our father’s court.’
    ‘And reap the glory for yourself.’
    Helenus dropped his arms to his side and turned away again, this time in a sulk.
    ‘It was your suggestion. Nobody ever believes a word you say, remember?’
    ‘Yourself included, Helenus. When I asked you to tell Father that Queen Penthesilea would be killed by Achilles, you almost refused to go.’
    ‘And I would have refused if you hadn’t begged me,’ he snapped. ‘What if you’d been wrong? I would have looked ridiculous, claiming visions from Apollo that never came true.’
    ‘But they did .’
    ‘And who couldn’t have predicted that Achilles would kill the queen of the Amazons?’ he retorted. ‘That arrogant bitch was asking to be sent to Hades.’
    Cassandra gave a dismissive laugh. ‘A lucky guess then, was it? So when I told you Achilles would die trying to storm the Scaean Gate, why were you happy to announce your vision in front of the whole assembly of elders?’
    ‘Because I’m a gambler,’ Helenus answered, meeting Cassandra’s gaze and holding it without shame. ‘I