The Poison In The Blood by Tom Holland

that he had been. Better to live as a goatherd than to die like this. He cursed his fate. Sometimes he came close to snapping the hero’s great bow in half, but he never did. Despite everything, he still loved to trace his fingers along the curve of the wood. He loved the hum of the string when he played it like a lyre. He loved the deadly glint of the arrows” poisoned tips. So he kept his bow secure; he looked after his arrows; and he clung to the hope that he would leave the island one day.
    Then, one evening, shortly after sunset, he saw the blaze of a fire on the beach. He stared at it in amazement and his heart started to beat fast. He crept slowly towards it and could make out three men huddled around the flames. A small boat had been dragged up on to the sand. Fishermen, Philoctetes supposed. But why now? What were they doing there? He knew he should be careful, but he was so desperate for human company that he could not help himself. He began shouting and the three men looked round. Using his bow as a crutch, Philoctetes stumbled across the sand until he reached the fire. He fell down on his knees, clasped his hands together and begged the strangers to help him escape. His words made no sense at first because it had been so long since he had spoken to anyone, but at last he made his meaning clear.
    The three men, holding their hands to their nostrils, looked unsure. Philoctetes promised them that he was a king. He promised them gold. He almost sobbed as he begged them. At last the three men nodded their heads and said that they would take him away. One of them offered Philoctetes some bread. He fell on it greedily, tearing at it like a dog. It was the first time he had tasted bread for many years. The three men smiled. When Philoctetes had finished eating, they offered him some wine.
    He grabbed at the jar eagerly and gulped down the wine. Even as he swallowed it, he could feel the alcohol. The stars, the moon and the sky began to spin. Philoctetes took another swig. Everything spun even more. He moaned and stumbled, then collapsed. The world went black.
    When he woke, Philoctetes found that his hands had been tied behind his back. He was tied to a post that had been driven into the sand. A man was sitting opposite him. Philoctetes shook his head in disbelief. The man was the last person in the world he wanted to see: Odysseus.
    There was a long silence.
    “You need a haircut,” said Odysseus at last.
    Philoctetes struggled to his feet and tried to throw himself at his enemy, but the rope that held him to the post yanked him back.
    “You see now why I had to tie you up,” said Odysseus. “But I do regret it. Hear me out, and I will let you go.”
    “Why should I believe you?”
    Odysseus looked hurt. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’ve come all this way for you.”
    “After leaving me here for ... for . . .”
    “For ten years.”
    “ Ten years?”
    Odysseus nodded. “All a mistake. You see, when we left you here, we did not know what we know now.”
    “And what is that?”
    Odysseus leaned forward. “As I said, we have spent ten years camped outside the walls of Troy. Still they won’t fall. Why? That question has been worrying me a good deal, as you can imagine. So I decided to find out. I disguised myself as a beggar and crept into Troy. I kidnapped the high priest and took him back to our camp. I demanded to know the secrets of the city’s defences. Not the walls, the battlements, boring details like that. No, I wanted to know deeper secrets. Oracles we might have missed. Details of the city’s fate that the Trojans knew but we did not. Mysteries revealed to them by the gods.”
    Despite himself, Philoctetes was intrigued. “And what did you find out?”
    “That Troy would not fall until a certain condition had been met.”
    “Did the high priest reveal the condition to you?”
    “Oh, yes.” Odysseus nodded. “After some "persuasion", yes.”
    “And what was it?”
    “Ah, well, that is why I