‘Have courage, Orestes,’ I whisper. ‘You are Agamemnon’s son.’ I feel it, humming through the three of us, binding us together, too terrible to speak aloud, but too vital for us to shrink from.
‘How will you do it?’ Georgios’ voice breaks the moment, making me jump.
For a moment, I can see the moisture gleaming in Orestes’ eyes, the tiny quiver of his lip, but then a determined blankness sweeps his face. It’s so like Clytemnestra that nausea swirls in my stomach. ‘We’ve come back in stealth,’ he says. ‘We didn’t want more bloodshed than – than is necessary.’ He gulps a little, looking down.
‘We planned to arrive as strangers to Mycenae,’ Pylades interjects. ‘Strangers bringing news of the death of Orestes, looking for a reward for bringing such good tidings to Aegisthus. That way, we’ll get an audience with him. He’ll want to hear all about it. He’ll think the threat to him is gone – if Agamemnon’s son is dead, he will believe himself secure at last. That’s when we’ll have our chance.’
I’m nodding along to every word he says.
‘Could that be enough?’ Orestes bursts out. ‘If we cut Aegisthus down, there and then, is that enough?’ He looks ashamed as soon as he’s said it, but there is a defiance in the jut of his chin. Clytemnestra’s son, I think again. I’m horrified to see so much of her in his features, instead of my father.
There is a long silence. ‘The oracle said to avenge our father’s killers,’ I say. ‘You know that she was the one with the axe. More than that! You remember, don’t you, how she was in front of Aegisthus always, how it was her making the plans?’
‘What if it was him who told her to do it?’ Orestes suggests. His eyes are hopeful, turning to me, seeking out his big sister to help him again.
‘You know the truth,’ I tell him softly.
‘Elektra,’ Georgios says, and I flinch. He catches my expression and hesitates before he goes on. ‘She is your mother.’ His earlier words hang between us: when he told me revenge was futile, that it would only lead to more misery. He’s wrong though, I know it. We can end it, but only if we’re brave enough.
‘It’s the command of Apollo,’ I say. ‘Our family has ignored the words of the gods before, and all of us suffer for it. How can we risk it?’
‘She’s right,’ says Pylades, and relief bolsters me.
‘I don’t want to disobey the oracle,’ Orestes says slowly.
I hardly dare to breathe as he considers what we’ve said. The threat he heard at Delphi, that Apollo will punish him if he leaves his father’s murderers untouched, it tells me that we’re right, even if what we’re talking about is a horrifying thing. But what I don’t say out loud is that, if he kills her, it will be the Erinyes who come for him instead. The snake-haired Erinyes with their baleful eyes and their unquenchable desire for revenge on those who kill their own parent. Apollo might punish a son who doesn’t avenge his father, but they will chase down a son who kills his mother. My brother will be pursued to the very ends of the earth, their wings beating through the sky and blocking out the light of the sun. Their barking cries will ring in his ears, day and night, their thirst for torment unabated.
But at least then she will be dead, along with her lover. It’s easy for Orestes to prevaricate. He’s lived in comfort since I sent him away, whilst I’ve been here, living in disgrace and squalor. I’ve borne the burden of suffering for what she’s done, and no one else has had to. Not yet.
‘Do you think it’s the only way to fulfil Apollo’s instruction?’ he asks me.
I’m sitting here, rank and dishevelled, a peasant on the ground, but these three men are turning to me, waiting to hear what I will say. I am Agamemnon’s daughter. I feel the truth of it, and that my future is unfolding before me; this life I’ve found myself in feels only temporary. I can see a chance ahead, something different at last. I turn my face up to the sun, like a flower ready to bloom.
Orestes has always trusted me. I told him what the world was, years ago, and he’s never had reason to doubt me. If I tell him, if I set this in motion, it will happen.
For the first time, the power is mine.
‘It’s the only way, Orestes.’ I lean forward and rest my hand on his. His eyes meet mine and I feel a shudder, as though I’m looking right into the cracks of his soul. ‘You have to kill her.’