All of a sudden Tisamenos hurled himself at the man, and was embracing him and crying for joy, saying, ‘You’re alive, you’re alive!’ He was overwhelmed, and clung to him.

‘My son,’ Orestes whispered, ‘my son. You are so changed …’

After a while, they came apart.

‘I came to the right place! The Fates were with me!’ Tisamenos was exulting. Everything seemed brighter.

‘We have much to discuss,’ said Orestes. Tisamenos saw his father looking at him with both respect and love. He indicated the man with him. ‘This is Helenus.’

‘Helenus?’ Now Silvius could not contain his excitement. ‘The Trojan priest? My father’s cousin?’

‘I am indeed,’ answered Helenus, smiling broadly. ‘You must be Silvius. Your father is very anxious about you. I will send word to him immediately.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘When you left Lavinium your father dispatched messengers to wherever he could to track your whereabouts. Of course the first place he thought of was here.’

‘But how did you get here? And what happened to Neoptolemos?’ asked Tisamenos.

Orestes said, ‘My son, Neoptolemos died some while ago. You know he had been married to your mother, Hermione? I reclaimed her from him, as we had been betrothed first. And when Neoptolemos died, his kingdom was split up, some given to Helenus here.’

‘A Trojan prince, now ruling in Achaea,’ said Helenus. ‘You see how everything changes, and everything is reborn.’

Everything, thought Tisamenos. Then maybe there is hope for me, and hope for Mykenai.

‘But we can’t rest,’ Silvius was adamant. ‘Python’s army is massing. My father—’

‘Is holding out still,’ interrupted Helenus. ‘He has all the armies of the south with him, and those who managed to flee Python. There has been no skirmish in recent days. We think that Python is massing for a major attack.’

‘So we have to go there now,’ said Silvius. ‘We have the Bow and Arrow of Apollo.’

Silvius showed them the quiver, and Elissa, with great seriousness, displayed the Bow so that they could admire it.

Tisamenos knew that he should tell them about the Gorgon’s head. Reluctantly he told his father he had it.

Orestes looked sharply at him. ‘My poor son … Such a weapon. We must guard it carefully.’

‘No,’ said Tisamenos. ‘I will keep it. Until I have to use it.’

‘You have undergone great hardship,’ said Helenus. He touched each of their faces in turn with his long, thin fingers. ‘And we will go to Italia. Come with me.’

The kinghouse of Phthia was made of white marble. Tisamenos lightly touched it as they went, and heard the quiet voices of the stones, more gentle than in Mykenai, but still whispering and foreboding.

He concentrated instead on the sun as it glinted off the polished surfaces. He marvelled at the rich tapestries fluttering in the breeze, and cool fountains playing in shadowy courtyards.