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Back The Arrow of Apollo
Chapters (52)
  1. Cover
  2. Title
  3. About the Author
  4. Dedication
  5. By the Same Author
  6. Author’s Note
  7. Map
  8. Domus Libris
  9. House of the Wolf
  10. The House of the Wolf
  11. One
  12. Two
  13. Three
  14. Four
  15. Five
  16. Six
  17. Seven
  18. Eight
  19. Nine
  20. Ten
  21. Eleven
  22. Twelve
  23. Thirteen
  24. Fourteen
  25. Fifteen
  26. Sixteen
  27. Seventeen
  28. Eighteen
  29. Nineteen
  30. Twenty
  31. Twenty-One
  32. Twenty-Two
  33. Twenty-Three
  34. Twenty-Four
  35. Twenty-Five
  36. Twenty-Six
  37. Twenty-Seven
  38. Twenty-Eight
  39. Twenty-Nine
  40. Thirty
  41. Thirty-One
  42. Thirty-Two
  43. Thirty-Three
  44. Thirty-Four
  45. Thirty-Five
  46. Thirty-Six
  47. Thirty-Seven
  48. Thirty-Eight
  49. Timeline of the Trojan Cycle
  50. Further Reading
  51. Acknowledgements
  52. Supporters

Within his mind he followed the lines of the building until he came to the women’s quarters, and he knew that if he went along the outside of the wall, he would soon come to a place where he could climb up onto a ledge and look down into them through a light well.

He opened his eyes, and the image lingered for a second, and for a moment he had a strange feeling that he was in some way the house itself; then it passed.

He felt elated as he went. The kinghouse was talking to him. The outside wall was grey and moss-covered, yet to him, now, it was beautiful and alive. He wondered if this was what Electra had meant when she touched the walls. Did she have some other way of seeing into the stones?

Tisamenos found the ledge easily, in a recess just at the north-western corner of the kinghouse. The whole of the building was between him and the games. Opposite, beyond the citadel wall, was a cluster of houses and temples, but he caught no flash of movement. Nobody was watching. He climbed onto the ledge, and soon was on the roof of the women’s quarters, looking down through the large light well, exactly as the stones had shown him.

It was Erigone’s chamber. He could not see very much, only the small square courtyard of lighter stone, through which women would saunter, bangles glittering or headpieces shining. There was a definite sense of movement below. A sudden flurry sent some women scattering, and Erigone’s voice floated up to where Tisamenos lay crouched.

She was sending her attendants away. By the sound of it, as footsteps shuffled out, there were none left – although he couldn’t be sure. He inched further forwards, leaning on his elbows, and peered as far in as he dared.

Now he could just make out Erigone. She was seated at a marble dressing table, and a maid was removing the golden headdress from her piled-up hair. A square of mirror hung above the table, and Erigone’s locks, falling around her head, curled into coils.

On the table was a scatter of little pots. Erigone fingered a few. Then she said something to the maid, who scuttled away feverishly.

Once she was alone, Erigone removed a key from around her neck and unlocked a drawer in her table, pulling out a garment, silvery and beautiful, which she held up to the light before laying it down flat on the table. She took up a small casket from the same drawer, and with a fine brush, gently pasted the ointment from it onto the garment’s inside lining.