He sought the residence of the chief, but could not find it; all the dwellings were equal in size, made of gratings of intertwined branches coated with fire-hardened clay, and topped by straw and hay roofs.

‘All men seem equal in this city,’ said Evenus. ‘All of the houses have the same dimensions and are made in the same way. How can the people understand who is to command and who is to obey?’

‘There are no people here,’ said Diomedes. ‘Not any more. Something happened. Something that killed them or forced them to flee.’

‘What could it have been?’ asked Evenus. ‘In all my life I’ve never seen a similar thing. Could it have been. . the chariot of the Sun?’

‘We shall see,’ said the king. ‘Look inside the houses and tell me what you find.’ He himself entered one of the houses. There was only one room inside. Along the wall were a series of dusty mats topped with gleaming white skeletons. Their mouths were stretched wide in a spasm of agony, their arms curled on their bellies, backs bent as if cramping over a point of piercing pain. At the centre was a hearth with a thick layer of ash; dark jars of varying dimensions, carved with simple decorations, stood all around. Half-burnt animal bones were mixed with the ashes, fish bones, walnut shells and fruit pits. There were no lamps, nor were there tables or other furnishings. The only other thing Diomedes saw was a bronze horse’s bit hanging on the wall, still fitted with its reins.

One of his men was waiting for him when he walked out. He could read the fear in his eyes: ‘ Wanax, the houses are all empty. . we’ve found only corpses, what’s left of them. But in one of the houses, down there, we’ve found something strange.’

Diomedes followed him and entered a house located at the crossing of the two main roads. The door was open and the light of the setting sun poured in, striking an object lying on a sort of raised platform at the centre of the house, a bright disc that glittered like a little sun. The king approached it and saw that it was made of embossed gold with spiral decorations which looked as if they were moving; it sat on four little wheels. On the ground was a clay basin full of rainwater, adorned with bulls’ heads, with a little fragment of gold taken from the edge of the disc, at its bottom.

‘What is it, wanax?’ asked the warrior. ‘It seems like magic, like sorcery. . I don’t like this place. .’

The king stretched his hand towards the disc and suddenly the shimmer vanished. The sun had just descended below the horizon. He looked at the little wheels and at the fragment at the bottom of the basin.

‘A piece of the chariot of the Sun has fallen into the swamp. . that’s what it means.’ He said nothing else, so as not to frighten his men, but he realized that those people had wanted to leave a sign for those who would come, perhaps to warn them, or perhaps to leave a token in memory of their end.

‘Let us go now,’ he said. ‘Do not touch anything, because this place is like a sanctuary.’

They walked out through the southern door, opposite to where they had entered. They passed the bare bones of a calf; nothing was left but a few strips of dried skin around the horns and the ribs. The empty eye sockets seemed to stare with surprise at the line of crested warriors who advanced through the dead city.

There was a broken bridge at the southern door as well, which crossed the rushing waters of the canal, but what they found on the other side was much more sinister than what they’d seen within.

Two rows of scorched stakes crossed a recently ploughed field; at the top of each stake was the burned head of a ram with great twisted horns, with scraps of skin and scorched flesh still clinging to the skulls. At the end of these eerie rows was an even more disturbing scene: the skeletons of two oxen lay on the ground under the yoke of a plough still stuck in the ground. The remains of a man lay nearby. Dogs had ripped him apart, fighting over the pieces: the gnawed, fleshless arms and parts of the legs lay at some distance from the torso, which was still protected by a sort of large leather tunic. The satchel he wore around his neck was of leather as well.

The king neared the man, took the satchel and opened it: teeth, the large pointed fangs of unknown animals. Diomedes looked around and saw that more teeth had been tossed into the furrows that the plough had made.

Evenus approached: ‘ Wanax,what does all this mean? That man was sowing teeth. .’

‘Dragon’s teeth. . like Jason, in Colchis. Dragon’s teeth, to call a new race of warriors from the ground.’

‘And those rams’ heads!’ murmured Evenus, looking around as darkness descended over the valley behind him. A thin lick of fog was rising from the moat, creeping across the earth, lapping at the bases of the stakes, enveloping the bones of man and animal.

‘Perhaps this man was performing a ritual to propitiate the sowing; an ancient, sacred rite of his ancestors, called upon out of the deepest despair.’

‘Let us leave this place, wanax!It is inhabited by the shadows of the unburied, shades without peace. They’ll drag us down to Hades with them if we stay here. All of our comrades are afraid as well; we have faced many dangers, fought without sparing our strength, we fear no enemy! But this land populated only by shadows has filled us with dread. It is not in this land that you shall found your kingdom!’

The king paused to look at the blackened skulls driven into the stakes, and the fog which crept over the earth and submerged everything, the skeletons, the abandoned plough.

‘This is a land shrouded in the chill of winter. Springtime comes here as well, and the meadows are covered with flowers; the tall grass will hide the signs of death. You mustn’t be afraid. But now let us return to the village and prepare for the night. Tomorrow we will return to our camp.’

‘ Wanax,’ said Evenus, ‘no one will follow you over that moat and behind that palisade. If you order us to do so, no one will shut an eye. Allow us to turn back now! We can follow the banks of the canal. We have brought our fire with us; we can light torches. Heed my words, wanax, I beg of you.’

Diomedes saw the terror in his eyes, even though his gaze was steady and his hand firm on his sword’s hilt. If they were attacked during the night, anything might happen. He agreed to take them back to the camp they had left on the shores of the Eridanus.

They ate something so as not to march with hunger in their bellies, then gathered branches which they fashioned into torches, lighting them from the ash-covered embers that they had brought with them in a jar. They began their journey: Diomedes walked at the head of the line and Evenus was last. They marched on in silence, accompanied only by the screeching of the night birds. Weariness began to weigh upon them, and the men slowed their pace, but Diomedes urged them on as if suddenly he had a reason to hurry to the camp.

The sun had not yet risen when a bloody flash appeared at the horizon, a throbbing reddish light.

Evenus ran from the rear guard to the king’s side: ‘Do you see that, wanax? It looks like a fire.’

‘I see it. Fast, we must make haste. It could be our camp.’ The men took off at a run and covered the last stretch of road stumbling and falling, since they could not see the ground they were treading on. As they drew nearer, a confused uproar could be heard; swirling flames and sparks rose towards the sky. When they were finally close enough, they realized what had happened: the ships pulled aground had been spotted by the Pelesetfleet during the night, and set ablaze. Myrsilus and his men were engaging the enemy on the beach, while others tried to put out the fire.

Diomedes beheld that terrible spectacle and the flames consuming his ships set off another fire in his mind: that terrible day that Hector had overwhelmed the Achaean defences and put Protesilaus’s ship to the torch on the beach of Ilium. Fury raged through his veins and the strain of their endless march vanished all at once. He seized his sword and raised a great yell: ‘ARGOS!’ Just as he had when he ordered his men to attack on the battlefield in Ilium. He lunged forward, all the others close behind. He broke through the ranks of Myrsilus’s warriors, who were being overpowered by the crushing force of the enemy and he burst into the front line, throwing himself into the fray.