‘We owe you our lives, I am sure of it.’ Silvius extended a hand. ‘I have only this to give you.’ He rummaged for the silver amulet, and proffered it to him.’

The stranger eyed him for a moment, ignoring it, and Silvius put it away. ‘Son of Aeneas?’ asked the stranger. ‘Son of the Trojan? The enemies of the Achaean people?’

‘You defeated us!’ said Silvius, retracting his hand. ‘You burned our city.’

The stranger smiled, and gave a low bow. ‘We are not our parents. My instinct to save you was right. I am Tisamenos, exiled son of Orestes.’

‘You tried to kill your father!’ Silvius’s voice was sharp. ‘We heard it from the other travellers. How can we trust you?’ He crossed his arms fiercely.

‘Well,’ said Tisamenos, idly, looking at his nails then smoothing down his tunic. ‘I tell you that I did not. You can trust the word of travellers. Or you can trust the son of a king. You have a choice. Either you make your own way to Mykenai, and get robbed and killed by any of the number of brigands who seem to have heard about you. Or you go with me, by the secret ways, and I take you directly to the king.’

‘But you’ve been exiled! They won’t let you back into the city.’ Silvius was still suspicious.

‘I have been,’ answered Tisamenos. ‘But now, I have this.’ He indicated the sack containing the Last Gorgon’s head. ‘I will bring you to Orestes with your sacred message. And my father will have to listen to me.’

Elissa studied him. ‘You’re strange,’ she said. ‘There’s something odd about you. There’s a flintiness in your eyes. What happened to you?’

Tisamenos let out a harsh chuckle.

‘You would not believe me if I told you.’

‘But,’ she continued, ‘I trust you. You seem to be telling the truth.’

‘I don’t know,’ Silvius spoke softly. There was something in this boy that gleamed, hard and bright. ‘But you say you can get us in the back ways. That might be useful.’ He held out his hand once more for Tisamenos to shake, and the strange boy took it. Silvius was shocked to feel the stone stump of his finger, but managed to hide his surprise, and nodded.

They turned towards the black citadel of Mykenai, its outline stark against the sky. Elissa was looking around, concerned.

‘Are you all right?’ Silvius asked in an undertone.

‘I can’t see Ruffler anywhere.’

‘He’ll be fine. He’s a clever thing, he’ll find somewhere to hide and then he’ll follow our scent.’

A little mollified, Elissa agreed. A crow soared down and settled on the stone that had once been a bandit. It began searching the crevices for insects, as if it had been there for centuries, baking under the beating sun.