It was a funny sort of day. The wind had died away but there was no relief. Everything felt close and airless. Sounds seemed muffled and distorted. I hoped for a breeze off the sea later. Even the hot winds would be preferable to this stifling heat.
My God, there’d been a hot time in the old town last night! Never mind the Greeks – Troy already looked as if an invading army had put it to the sword. People lay in shady corners, white-faced, their garments stained with unspeakableness. A naked man sprawled face-down in a pool of something. The smoke from neglected cooking fires drifted across litter-laden streets. Hardly anyone was around. Some poor sods – slaves, probably – were out in the hot sun, drawing water. They looked reasonably all right, as slaves go. They probably hadn’t been partaking of last night’s tainted meat. From somewhere nearby, I could hear the sound of vomiting. And then another, even more unpleasant sound. Someone groaned and cursed.
A few guards stood on the walls, leaning heavily on their spears. The one I passed had his eyes closed. Fat lot of good he was going to be, asleep in the hot sun.
And it was hot. It was very hot indeed, especially since we weren’t yet much past mid-morning. I felt the perspiration roll down my back. Even Guthrie, normally as cool as they come, had sweat beading his brow. By unspoken consent, we moved into the shade of a high wall.
I stared out across the plain to the empty sea. A few people were out there, picking over the remains.
The city slowly woke up behind me. More people emerged on to the streets. There were tasks that must be performed – livestock to be fed, water to be drawn. The city trundled painfully back into life again.
The morning passed. I listened to the chatter in my ears – nothing out of the ordinary.
We moved slowly, following our patch of shade along the wall. We’d brought water, but limited ourselves to a sip every now and then. Because, when it was gone – it was gone. I wasn’t going to risk any Trojan water.
I was about to suggest finding somewhere cool for a spot of lunch around noon when I glanced at Guthrie. He was very pale. A bead of sweat ran down his cheekbone.
In sudden concern I said, ‘Major, are you all right?’
He pulled himself together with an effort that was painful to watch.
‘Yes. Yes, I’m fine.’
He swayed and even more colour drained from his face.
‘Ian, you’re ill.’
‘No, I can’t be. I haven’t eaten or drunk anything that someone else hasn’t had. And I don’t feel sick – I just feel – strange.’
He looked strange, too. A kind of otherworld look about him, as if he wasn’t quite here.
‘Can you hear that?’
‘What?’
‘We need to get off the walls.’
‘Why?’
‘Don’t know.’
He wasn’t looking at me. He stared blindly at his feet and spoke very quietly through clenched teeth.
‘Off the walls. Now.’
I didn’t argue. I’d known him too long. I guided him to the staircase and we stumbled down to street level. I tried to get him into the shade, wondering if he had sunstroke, but he insisted on standing in the wide space by the fish market and I couldn’t budge him.
It really was no day to be standing in the hot sun. And it was so, so hot. My tunic was drenched. My eyes stung with salty sweat.
He caught my arm. Hard. I could feel his fingers digging into my flesh.
‘Tell them, Max. Stand in open ground. Get away from the buildings. Get them away from the buildings.’
I’d heard of this before, but not really believed it.
I opened my com. ‘This is Maxwell. Code Red. Code Red. Code Red. Get away from any buildings. Find an open space and stay there. Immediate action. Now. Maxwell out.’
Dogs began to howl across the city. First one, then another, took it up. I looked round, but could see no cause. A flock of shrieking birds shot high into the air, wheeled once and disappeared.
I stared around. Ian was holding his head. A tiny, stifled groan escaped him.
The silence was deafening.
The weight of the heat was unbearable.
The world held its breath.
The gods were poised.
And then, from deep, deep beneath my feet, I heard a dreadful sound. Like a bellowing bull.
Poseidon, the Earth-Shaker had awoken.
Oh God, I knew what this was.
This was not my first earthquake.
I just had time to shout, ‘Earthquake. Everyone get down,’ when the earth moved. And for all the wrong reasons.
Just a small shudder initially, and I thought this might not be too bad after all, and then the ground began to shake, harder and harder, increasing in volume and strength.
I crouched and struggled to keep my balance. The noise was tremendous. The earth groaned and then groaned again. Around me I could hear crashing pots, breaking crockery, then louder crashes and bangs as items of furniture moved or fell over. As the tremors got stronger and louder, the buildings started to fall. Small mudbrick huts went first, collapsing in a cloud of dust and then the bigger buildings started to go, just dropping in on themselves with a roar of collapsing stones.
As suddenly as it started – it stopped.
There was a moment’s breathless silence.