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Back The Arrow of Apollo Save as PDF
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

When she’d finished, she held it up carefully. As if she needed a better look, she came into the area where the light fell. Tisamenos instantly drew back. He must have made a noise, as when he dared to peer back again Erigone had gone, and the room was empty. There was no sign of the ointment or the silvery garment.

He remembered how Medea was said to have killed the Corinthian princess, before his grandfather’s time. She had sent a poisoned dress, and the girl had died a terrible death, clawing the garment from her skin. Could this be a similar device?

He leant forwards once more, and satisfied that there was nobody in the room, he jumped down, landing in a crouch, and headed straight to the dressing table. This could be his chance to expose her. He had to be quick, before she returned.

Twenty-One

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The Sibyl’s Prophecy

SICILIA

Laughter, drifting into Silvius’s ears. Laughter that he recognised, light, rippling, coming in short bursts. A moment ago, he’d been in the tree, watching Elissa jump down to the lion. And then … had he fainted? He opened his eyes. He was lying on his back in a grassy glade. Elissa was tickling the belly of a huge lion, the afternoon sunlight pouring all around them.

Silvius sprang up. ‘Elissa – I don’t think that’s safe …’

The lion was lying on his side, yawning with pleasure. Elissa, looking around, found a stick and began to scratch his back.

‘There you are!’ she said. Silvius blushed. ‘Don’t worry – he’s a pussycat. Aren’t you,’ she said, nuzzling into its mane. The lion beat his tail upon the ground, for all the world like a dog.

He took in his surroundings. They were still in the forest, the trees growing thickly together, but near a pleasant-looking wooden dwelling. A woman appeared from his right, bearing a pail of milk full to the brim.

It was the blind lion rider.

‘Elissa, what are we doing here?’

The blind woman set the pail down, and Elissa came bounding over and dipped a wooden beaker in, then brought it to Silvius. He tried to look for concern in Elissa’s eyes, but she was smiling.

‘She’s our friend. She’s who we came to see.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Just drink this.’

He gulped it down gratefully.

‘From my best cow, son of Aeneas. She was grumpy, but her milk’s good.’

Silvius looked sideways at Elissa, who shrugged, and said, ‘I didn’t tell her who you are.’