"Maybe."
He looked up at her, his eyes wide. "Isn"t it true, Grandmama? Grandpapa will will dine with Argurios, and Hektor and Achilles, and Odysseus?" he persisted anxiously. dine with Argurios, and Hektor and Achilles, and Odysseus?" he persisted anxiously.
"Certainly not Odysseus," she told him briskly.
"Why not? Because he is the Prince of Lies?"
She smiled. "Odysseus is the most honest man I"ve ever known. No, because Odysseus is not dead."
The people of the Seven Hills last had heard from Ithaka some ten years before. The collapse of the Mykene empire, its leaders dead, its armies in ruins, its treasuries empty, had opened the way for barbarians from the north to sweep down through the mainland, and where once-proud cities had ruled, there lay only darkness and fear. But little Ithaka still stood, as Penelope and her growing son Telemachus stood on the cliffs each sunset watching for their king to come home. Andromache remembered Odysseus carving his wife"s face in the sand and wondered if he was doing it still somewhere.
"How do you know he"s not dead?" little Dios asked.
"Because Odysseus is a storyteller, and storytellers never die as long as their stories live on."
Invigorated by the thought, she stood up, cursed as her knees cracked, then set off down the hill, the boy running after her. Spotting her, two men peeled away from the crowd and raced up the hillside to meet her where a campfire blazed in a small hollow. Andromache"s old bow and specially prepared arrows lay beside it.
She took each of her sons by the hand and gazed at them fondly. Astyanax had her flame hair and green eyes, and his handsome face bore a dreadful sword wound, a legacy of a battle with the Siculi the previous spring when he nearly had died saving his brother"s life. Still, when he smiled, he looked just like his father. Dex had his mother"s fair hair and the powerful build and dark eyes of his a.s.syrian sire. He had taken the name Ilos as an act of fealty to his adopted people, but the local folk called him Iulos.
"I am ready," she told them, "I have said my goodbyes."
She had lain all night racked with grief at the king"s funeral bier, her heart cracked and drained, her soul bereft, her tears staining his face and hands. Then, in the morning, she had dried her eyes, kissed his cold lips and his forehead, and walked away from him forever.
Now Astyanax turned and signaled, and a score of men leaped to put their shoulders to the Xanthos. Xanthos. There was a rumbling of wood against gravel, a groan of protesting timbers, and then the old ship once more was afloat. Her mast had been dismantled, and the steering oar tied. The galley was heaped with fragrant cedar branches and herbs. At its center the body of Helikaon lay on a cloth of gold. He was dressed in a simple white robe, and the sword of Argurios was on his breast. On his right foot only he wore an old sandal. There was a rumbling of wood against gravel, a groan of protesting timbers, and then the old ship once more was afloat. Her mast had been dismantled, and the steering oar tied. The galley was heaped with fragrant cedar branches and herbs. At its center the body of Helikaon lay on a cloth of gold. He was dressed in a simple white robe, and the sword of Argurios was on his breast. On his right foot only he wore an old sandal.
As the drifting ship reached the center of the river and was s.n.a.t.c.hed by the current, the sun touched the horizon. Andromache bent to pick up her bow. She put an arrowhead to the fire, and it blazed brightly. She notched the arrow to the string and closed her eyes briefly to summon all her remembered strength and courage. Then she sighted and loosed the arrow.
It soared into the sky like a rising star, dipped again, and hit the golden ship at the stern. A blaze started instantly. Within heartbeats archers all along the riverbank had shot their fire arrows into the ship. There was an explosion of flame, and the Xanthos Xanthos was alight from stem to stern. It was so bright that people in the crowd shaded their eyes, and the roar of burning timbers was the sound of thunder. High above an eagle rose through the blue sky, lifted on the warm air. was alight from stem to stern. It was so bright that people in the crowd shaded their eyes, and the roar of burning timbers was the sound of thunder. High above an eagle rose through the blue sky, lifted on the warm air.
Unbidden, faces appeared in Andromache"s mind: Hektor, the bravest of the Trojans; his brothers Dios and Antiphones; the tale spinner Odysseus; the valiant Mykene warriors Argurios, Kalliades, and Banokles. And Helikaon, her lover, her husband, the keeper of her heart.
I have walked with heroes, she thought.
Andromache felt her heart fill again, and she smiled. Then she raised her bow in her fist in final farewell as the blazing ship sailed into the west.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS.
DAVID G GEMMELL was born in London, England, in the summer of 1948. Expelled from school at sixteen, he became a bouncer, working nightclubs in Soho. Born with a silver tongue, Gemmell rarely needed to bounce customers, relying instead on his gift of gab to talk his way out of trouble. This talent eventually led him to jobs as a freelancer for the London was born in London, England, in the summer of 1948. Expelled from school at sixteen, he became a bouncer, working nightclubs in Soho. Born with a silver tongue, Gemmell rarely needed to bounce customers, relying instead on his gift of gab to talk his way out of trouble. This talent eventually led him to jobs as a freelancer for the London Daily Mail, Daily Mail, the the Daily Mirror, Daily Mirror, and the and the Daily Express. Daily Express. His first novel, His first novel, Legend, Legend, was published in 1984 and has remained in print ever since. He became a fulltime writer in 1986. His books consistently top the London was published in 1984 and has remained in print ever since. He became a fulltime writer in 1986. His books consistently top the London Times Times bestseller list. David Gemmell died in July 2006 at his home in England. bestseller list. David Gemmell died in July 2006 at his home in England.
S STELLA G GEMMELL, a journalist, worked with her husband on all three Troy novels. She concluded Fall of Kings Fall of Kings after his death. after his death.
BY D DAVID G GEMMELL.
Lion of Macedon
Dark Prince
Echoes of the Great Song
Knights of Dark Renown
Morningstar
Dark Moon
Ironhand"s Daughter
The Hawk Eternal
THE DRENAI SAGA.
Legend
The King Beyond the Gate
Quest for Lost Heroes
Waylander
In the Realm of the Wolf
The First Chronicles of Druss the Legend
The Legend of the Deathwalker
Hero in the Shadows
Winter Warriors
White Wolf
The Swords of Night and Day
THE STONES OF POWER CYCLE.
Ghost King
Last Sword of Power
Wolf in Shadow
The Last Guardian
Bloodstone
THE RIGANTE.
Sword in the Storm
Midnight Falcon
Ravenheart
Stormrider
TROY.
Lord of the Silver Bow
Shield of Thunder
Fall of Kings
(with Stella Gemmell)
Fall of Kings is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author"s imagination or are used fict.i.tiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author"s imagination or are used fict.i.tiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.