‘“To the Fairest”? Eris honours me greatly.’ Hera put out her hand.
Zeus was about to pass the apple obediently to his wife when a low voice murmured on his other side.
‘The world will agree, Hera, that the apple must surely be mine.’ The grey eyes of Athena locked with the brown eyes of Hera.
A silver ripple of laughter came from behind them both as Aphrodite stretched out her hand to Zeus. ‘Let us not be foolish. There is only one to whom the words “To the Fairest” could possibly apply. Give me the apple, Zeus, for it can be meant for no one else.’
Zeus dropped his head and vented a deep sigh. How could he choose between his beloved and powerful wife Hera, his adored favourite child Athena, and his aunt, the powerful goddess of love herself, Aphrodite? He clutched the apple tight and wished he could be somewhere else.
‘Cheer up, father.’ Hermes came before him, leading a reluctant Ares. ‘What you need is someone we can all trust to make the decision and award the apple on your behalf, yes? Well, it so happens that we met just such a person not long ago, didn’t we, Ares? A young man of honest, impartial and unimpeachably reliable judgement.’
Zeus stared. ‘Who?’
THE QUEEN’S DREAM
To find out who, we have to travel across the Aegean Sea and back once more to the plain of Ilium. We left Troy, you remember, a smouldering ruin. The male line of Ilus, Tros and Laomedon had been expunged by the vengeful forces of Heracles and Telamon. Only the youngest, Podarces, had escaped the slaughter. In letting Podarces live – or Priam, as the world now called him – Heracles had spared a remarkable prince who had grown into an outstanding ruler.
Within the magnificent shell of the great walls and gates constructed by Apollo and Poseidon, Priam had set about rebuilding Troy around the site of the temple of the Palladium which, out of respect for Athena, Heracles and Telamon had also spared. Priam revealed himself to be a natural leader with a passion for detail and a deep understanding of the workings of trade and exchange – what we would call today economics, commerce and finance. The city’s place at the mouth of the Hellespont – the straits through which all sea traffic to and from the east were obliged by geography to pass – afforded Troy tremendous opportunities for enrichment, opportunities that King Priam seized with acumen and an astute intelligence. The tolls and tariffs rolled in and the kingdom grew in greatness and prosperity. Even if it were not for the wealth generated from trade with foreign kingdoms, Troy would have been prosperous enough on account of the fertility of the land around Mount Ida. The cattle, goats and sheep on its slopes provided milk, cheese and meat, and the lowland fields fed by the rivers Cebren, Scamander and Simoeis filled the barns, silos and storehouses every year with more than enough grain, olives and fruit to ensure that no Trojan ever went hungry.
The towers of Priam’s new palace reached higher than the level of the walls and gleamed in the sun to tell the world that Troy, the Jewel of the Aegean, was the greatest city in the world, ruled over by a mighty king and prospering under the protection of the gods.
Priam’s queen was called HECUBA.fn28 In the early days of their marriage she had presented Priam with a son and heir, Prince HECTOR. Little more than a year later she was pregnant again. One morning, very close to the time of delivery, she awoke sweating and in great distress from a most vivid and unusual dream. She related it to Priam who immediately called for Troy’s most trusted prophet and seer, AESACUS, a son from his first marriage.fn29
‘It was the strangest and most alarming thing,’ said Hecuba. ‘I dreamed that I gave birth, not to a child, but to a torch.’
‘A torch?’ repeated Aesacus.
‘A torch that burned with a great flame. Like a brand, you know? And I dreamed that I ran with this torch through the streets and alleyways of Troy and that everything around me was lit with fire. Does it mean that this birth will be more painful than the last? Or …’ she suggested hopefully, ‘perhaps it means that my child is destined to light the world with a blaze of fame and glory?’
‘No, majesty,’ said Aesacus heavily, ‘it means neither of those things. It means something quite different. It means …’
His voice trailed off and he twisted the hem of his cloak with nervous fingers.
‘Do not be afraid to speak,’ said Priam. ‘Your gift is given you for a reason. Whatever you say, we will not be so foolish as to blame you for it. What does this dream tells us about our child and its destiny?’
Aesacus took a deep breath and spoke in a rush, as if trying to expel the words from his mouth and mind for ever.
‘It tells us that … that your baby will be the death of us all, the cause of the complete destruction of our city and our whole civilization. It tells us that if that child in your belly survives to manhood – for it is certain that it will be a male child – then Troy will burn to the ground, never to rise again. Ilium will be no more than a memory, a burnt page in the book of history. That is what the queen’s dream tells us.’
Priam and Hecuba stared at Aesacus.
‘Leave us, my son,’ said Priam after a long silence. ‘Understand that you are sworn to secrecy.’
Aesacus bowed his way from the room. He hurried out of the city gates without exchanging a word with a single soul. He ran and ran, deep into the countryside, to be with his beloved, Hesperia, daughter of the river god Cebren.
Aesacus never returned to Troy. Not long after Hecuba’s dream Hesperia died from a venomous snakebite. Aesacus was so desolated that he threw himself from a cliff into the sea. The ancient goddess Tethys took pity on him, however, and, before he hit the water, transformed him into a seabird. A bird that in its grief would dive and dive into the depths, repeating its suicide for ever.
THE BOY WHO LIVED
Priam and Hecuba put Troy before everything. Before love, health, happiness and family. They had not built the city up to be what it was only to risk its destruction. Aesacus’s prophecy, if true, seemed cruel, random and unwarranted, but the Fates had never been known for their mercy, justice or reason. The future of Troy came first. The child must die.
Hecuba went into labour that very day. When the boy was born (Aesacus had been right, it was a male child), it twinkled, gurgled and beamed with such engaging charm and unblemished beauty that neither had the heart to smother it.
Priam looked down into his son’s smiling face. ‘We must send for AGELAUS,’fn30 he said.
‘Yes,’ said Hecuba. ‘It can be no one else.’
Agelaus, the royal family’s chief herdsman on Mount Ida, had the advantage of playing no part in city politics or palace intrigues. He was loyal and trustworthy, and he knew how to keep a secret.
He bowed before the king and queen, unable to conceal his astonishment at the sight of the baby in Hecuba’s arms.
‘I had not heard the happy news that a new prince or princess had come into the world,’ he said. ‘No bells were sounded, no heralds proclaimed the birth.’
‘No one knows,’ said Hecuba. ‘And no one must ever know.’
‘This baby must die,’ said Priam.
Agelaus stared. ‘Sire?’
‘For the sake of Troy, he must,’ said Hecuba. ‘Take him away to Mount Ida. Kill him quickly and mercifully. Consign his body to the underworld with all proper prayers and sacrifices.’