Free People of the Inner Sea (The Age of Bronze) by Diana Gainer Page A

came through the high opening, so that the room was lit almost solely by the fire and its reflections in the bronze-plate coverings of the columns.
     
    Odushéyu shook Meneláwo's arm.  "Look how closely Aígist'o sits to her.  Can they be lovers?  Ai gar, your brother had better drive his wife out of the palace as soon as he gets back."
     
    Meneláwo's lethargy cleared enough for him to glare at Odushéyu.  With a quick, nervous glance at Ariyádna, the Lakedaimóniyan king whispered, "Keep still!"
     
    The It'ákan followed his companion's gaze to Ariyádna's face.  The blue-lidded eyes were closed, her cheeks pale.  She rocked 'Ermiyóna slowly from side to side, ignorant of the words and actions of all around her.  The child's crying had quieted to small hiccups.  Little fingers clutched at her mother's cloak with white-knuckled intensity.
     
    The guest kings turned to the wánasha on the throne to find her penetrating gaze fastened on them.  Klutaimnéstra raised a single black eyebrow, frowning.  "Well then," she said, as if announcing an edict.  "Give me your news.  I take it Tróya has fallen?"
     
    Meneláwo shifted his weight in his chair, moving stiffly, leaning toward the pain in his side.   He cleared his throat, preparing to answer.
     
    But Odushéyu could not keep still.  His voice booming from his broad chest, he angrily called out to the queen, "Wánasha, you speak to us as if we were pottery merchants, reporting the number of jars sent to the distant island of Alásiya!"  He sat straight in his chair and struck his woolly chest with his fist.  "We are great Ak'áyan wánaktes, returning home after the greatest military victory of all time.  Under the leadership of the high wánaks, Agamémnon, your husband," and here he glanced pointedly at Aígist'o, "we have shattered the formerly powerful Náshiyan empire!"
     
    Klutaimnéstra's displeasure showed in her stiff posture, her eyes gleaming with contempt.  "I am pleased to hear it," she responded icily.  "My husband has done just as I asked of him."
     
    "Asked!" Odushéyu began in a fury.
     
    But Meneláwo stopped him with a hand on the shoulder.  "Be still, Odushéyu," the Lakedaimóniyan wánaks urged.  "That is your overlord's wife you are addressing, not some Wilúsiyan captive.  Show a little respect."
     
    Before Odushéyu could argue, Meneláwo raised his hands toward Klutaimnéstra and addressed her as meekly as a servant.  "I apologize for my friend, wánasha.  Ten months of battle cannot fail to roughen a soldier's manners.  But Odushéyu meant no disrespect.  Let me answer your question, sister-in-law.  What he says is true, as you can see by your sister's presence.  We took Tróya, just as you say.  It seems that the Náshiyan Empire has become weak while Ak'áiwiya's alliance has grown strong.  It was a great victory, auspicious for the future."  His voice faded as he spoke the last phrase without conviction.
     
    Working at the fireplace, the serving women paused and looked at each other, unnerved by the Lakedaimóniyan king's appearance and manner, despite his optimistic words.  The dancing flames cast strange reflections on the bronze-plate coverings of the supporting pillars.  The hollow-cheeked faces of the guests were suffused with an eerie light and the war-like frescoes seemed to move.  To the frightened eyes of the servants, the familiar pattern of the evening meal seemed fraught with evil omens.  Even the painted, red plumes on the sides of the hearth seemed to hint of disasters to come.  Surreptitiously, hiding their gestures from the queen, they made the sign of the Evil Eye toward the guests.
     
    Klutaimnéstra still frowned, adjusting her embroidered cloak about her shoulders.  "I foretold Tróya's fall, of course.  I knew that Náshiya would not be a threat to Agamémnon.  That reminds me.  A message came to me last month that may interest you.  I hear from the city of Millewánda