PART THREE OF THE TROY QUARTET Bringing ancient myth to life with passion, humour, and humanity, Lindsay Clarke vividly retells the story of Troy and of the heroes who fought there. Troy has fallen. After ten years of fighting and a savage final massacre, the victors quarrel over what remains and turn their minds to home. Menelaus must decide the fate of Helen, whose incomparable beauty ignited the war. And Agamemnon must return to the fury of Clytaemnestra, who has neither forgotten nor forgiven his choice to sacrifice their daughter. ‘An engaging retelling of the whole story, neatly blending mythic archaism with modern psychodrama and satire’ Mary Beard 1 – A PRINCE OF TROY2 – THE WAR AT TROY3 – THE SPOILS OF TROY4 – THE RETURN FROM TROY
Оглавление
Lindsay Clarke. The Spoils of Troy
THE SPOILS OF TROY. Lindsay Clarke
Copyright
Dedication
Map
The Justice of the Gods
The Fall
A Visitor To Ithaca
The Division of the Spoils
The Strength of Poseidon
An Audience with the Queen
The Last of Troy
The Ghosts of Mycenae
The Bitch’s Tomb
Cassandra
Death in the Lion House
Anxiety on Ithaca
Glossary of Characters
Acknowledgements
Also by Lindsay Clarke
About the Publisher
Отрывок из книги
For Phoebe Clare
Cover
.....
Andromache’s eyeballs swivelled in panic as though at sudden loss. Then memory seared through her. Again, as though the scene were being played out before her for the first time, she saw Neoptolemus dragging Astyanax by the lobe of his ear across the upper room of her house. Again she saw the deft sweep with which the young warrior lifted her child above the parapet of the balcony. Again she released a protracted scream of refusal and denial, and again it was in vain. Neoptolemus opened his hands and Astyanax vanished, leaving only a brief, truncated cry on the night air.
Unable to stop herself, Andromache had run to the balcony and gazed down where the small body of her son lay twisted on the stones twenty feet below. A pool of blood oozed from his head like oil. In that moment she would have thrown herself from the parapet after him if Neoptolemus had not grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away. So she had stood with that gilded youth bending an arm at her back, screaming and screaming at the night.
