Greek Warriors (5 page)

“Move up, you big buffoon!” Isis said to one of the men crouching next to her. “You're standing on my toes.”

“Move where, exactly?” the soldier answered. “Shall I sit on your shoulders instead?”

Tom ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. The body heat from the soldiers squashed on either side of him made him feel like he was being blasted by a furnace. The only light in the belly of the horse came from the slight gap around the trapdoor by his feet. He could just about make out Isis as she elbowed the stocky soldier so hard that he toppled on to the man next to him.

“Chief Commander, sir!” the soldier complained to Odysseus. “Do I have your permission to beat this little Spartan? He just pushed me over.”

Odysseus's muffled voice replied, “Behave yourselves!”

A noise ripped through the darkness.

“Aw, Demodocus has just let one go, boss,” another man complained.

Everyone inside the horse groaned as the smell of rotten eggs wafted round the cramped space.

“He who smelt it, dealt it!” a deep voice barked.

“Shut up, Demodocus. Everybody knows it's you!”

“Men! Hold your tongues now!” ordered Odysseus. But no one was listening to him.

“Move up, you bunch of stinkers. I've got cramp in my calf.”

“Ow! Eugenius shoved his stinky foot on my—”

“SILENCE!” came the voice of Commander Leandros.

Everybody instantly hushed.

Tom felt his bones judder and heard the wooden wheels squeaking as the Spartan soldiers rolled the wooden horse over the uneven ground beneath them. When the horse ground to a halt, Tom knew the horse was in position outside the city gates, as planned. He imagined the walls of Troy looming above them.

It felt like hours had passed, but sitting there in the dark Tom had no way of knowing how much time had actually gone by. Every moment seemed to drag as they waited nervously inside the wooden horse, and Tom got pins and needles in his feet from standing still for so long.

Atishoooo!
Suddenly the sweaty silence was torn apart by a sneeze.

“Eeuw, I felt that on the back of my neck!” came a voice in the gloom.

Then…
Achoooooo!

Isis shrieked. “It's raining snot!” she cried.

Tom squinted in the murk to see who was responsible. There, just by Isis's shoulder, was Odysseus. He was wiping his nose on his tunic. Stretching his skinny arms out wide, he started to grope everyone he could reach.

“Who's wearing fur?” he asked. “Out with it! I know one of you is… is…
IS… ACHOOO! ATISHOO! WHAAAHOO
!” There was no let-up, as Odysseus sprayed the soldiers with snot again and again and again.

The soldier who was crouched next to Isis held his shield over his head like an umbrella. “No, boss,” he said. “Everyone here knows that fur makes you sneeze like the gods themselves have cursed you.”

A legendary Greek warrior with a terrible fur allergy. And a fluffy cat in an enclosed space. Whoops
, thought Tom.

“All of you! Reach out to your right and have a good feel,” Commander Leandros said. “We must find out who is wearing fur!”

In the dim light, Tom saw Isis's eyes widen with horror. She snatched the sack away from her neighbour's reach. Suddenly Cleo mewed.

“There's a cat in here!” Odysseus spluttered, sounding as though he had a bag of marbles stuffed up each nostril.

“No,” Isis said. “It was my tummy rumbling.” Isis started to make a groaning noise.

Just as Odysseus was about to grab Isis by the shoulder, an almighty creaking noise stopped him. The whole wooden horse had started to shake.

“The gates are being opened!” Isis whispered.

Tom held his breath. There was not a single trump or burp or sneeze to be heard now. The soldiers inside the wooden horse strained to listen to the gatekeepers.

Beneath the trapdoor, Tom could hear the scuffling of sandals in the sand.

“What do you think to that then, Aeneas?” one man said.

There was a belch. Then a sniff. “Dunno. Who ever heard of a wooden cow being left at the gates of Troy?”

“Do you think it's a cow? Looks like a giant goat to me. Or a horse, maybe. Go and fetch Heroditus. He's a clever fellow. He'll know what to make of this.”

More and more men seemed to gather beneath the horse. Tom wondered whether they could hear the thumping of his heart in his chest. Across from him, he could see Odysseus holding his hand to his face, desperately trying to stifle another sneeze.

The hubbub from the excited Trojans beneath them suddenly fell silent.

“Here he is! Go on, Heroditus!” said the first man who had spoken. “Tell us what you make of it.”

“Why! This is a gift to the gods from the Greeks,” Heroditus said in a hearty voice.

“A gift? Yes! A gift!” called out several voices.

Everybody seemed to be listening to Heroditus, as though he was in charge.

“It is an apology from the Greeks, for them spending ten years trying to break down our mighty city walls,” Heroditus said. “It is a fitting tribute. Wheel it inside, men!”

But amongst the babble of general agreement, Tom heard the croaking voice of what sounded like an elderly man.

“It's a trap, I tell you!”

“Oh, be quiet, you old fool.”

The trembling voice started up again. “Beware gifts from the Greeks!”

Isis clasped her hand to her forehead. Some of the soldiers breathed in sharply, their shoulders hunched up near their ears.

Is this it?
Tom thought, waiting to be discovered.
We get to the gates and we're turned away? No ambush? No amulet!

A fist rapped on the underside of the horse. “Seems solid enough to me,” Aeneas said. “Ignore the old misery guts there. Wheel it in, men!”

Inside the belly of the horse, some of the soldiers thrust up their thumbs through the fingers of their clenched fists and punched the air. Tom remembered from his history books that this was an Ancient Greek way of wishing each other good luck. He couldn't help but join in. Suddenly it didn't feel as gloomy in there as it had before.

The wooden horse started to rumble and shake again as the Trojans pushed the giant gift into the city. Tom heard the gates clang shut behind them.

“We're in!” he whispered to Isis. “Now all we have to do is find the amulet and go home!”

“Right men,
ATISHOO
!” Odysseus finally whispered. “The sun has been down for a good while. It's time to spring our attack!”

Tom marvelled that the Trojans had not discovered the Greek soldiers, hidden away in the belly of the horse. But judging by the shouting and singing that had been going on outside for hours, the Trojans had been too busy celebrating the Greeks' departure to hear Odysseus's constant sneezing. Now though, the sound of merriment had faded.

The Greek soldiers shifted about in the blackness. They grunted and groaned. Pins and needles jabbed at Tom, as the life started to flow slowly back into his arms and legs.

“On the count of three, pull the trapdoor up!” Odysseus said quietly. “One…
ACHOOO
… two!”

Tom's heart started to gallop. There was a rattle as the soldiers round him gathered up their weapons. Tom found himself wishing that he and Isis had swords of their own.

“Three!”

In almost perfect silence, the trapdoor was lifted up. Cool night air and the salty smell of the sea wafted up into the crowded wooden horse. All was silent below. The first few soldiers swung down on the rope. Tom quickly followed, then Isis. They hit the ground with a dull thud and looked about.

They were in a large, paved square, dimly lit by flaming torches and surrounded by buildings. In the centre of the square, close to the wooden horse, was an enormous, gurgling fountain. Long black shadows covered the ground like giant slugs.

“What are those?” Tom whispered. He squinted in the flickering firelight. The shadows were snoring. “Sleeping soldiers!”

Isis yelped and grabbed Tom's arm.

“Aargh!” cried Tom.

Standing only moments away from where he and Isis had landed, Tom saw a gang of Trojan soldiers. They were swaying slightly and seemed to be propping each other up. In their hands, they held jugs of wine. Open-mouthed and bleary-eyed, they stared up at the trapdoor, watching in silence as the Greeks dropped out of the horse's belly.

The silence didn't last for long.

“Attack! Attack!” the Trojan soldiers cried. “Raise the alarm! Seize your weapons!”

The Trojan soldiers charged towards the Greeks, with deadly looking spears outstretched.

“We've got to get out of here!” Isis shouted.

She skipped nimbly over a snoring Trojan and hid behind a column. “But first I must let poor Fluffpot out of this horrible bag,” she said, loosening the drawstrings.

With a delighted yowl, Cleo leaped out of the sack. She stretched and twitched her whiskers, then strutted off. After a short distance she turned to meow at Tom and Isis.

“I think she wants us to follow her,” Tom said. He looked back to see three Trojans running towards them with their daggers drawn.