Daughter of Sparta

Part VII

Penelope hastily undid the tight braids that were Helen's hair, fighting with every woven lock. "I can't believe you do this to yourself every day. Does it not hurt?"

Helen shrugged, "I've gotten use to it. And this style attracts the least amount of attention."

Clytaemnestra shared a knowing look with her cousin before saying in a light voice, "This is your wedding, sister. Today you are allowed to attract attention and revel in it."

Helen smiled, "Yes, today I can allow myself that luxury."

Penelope said, "I had an interesting conversation with Odysseus the other day."

"Any conversation with that man should be interesting," Clytaemnestra quipped with a sharp smile as she artfully draped a pale blue veil over Helen's bare shoulders then fastening it to her robe with a gold pin.

"He seems to be under the impression I would like nothing better than to be his wife." Penelope said, her eyes studying her two companions.

"How bold of him," Helen said innocently. "I know of at least two things you'd like better, Agafia's brewed milk with her special mixture of spices and honey for example."

"Three, counting the many times I heard Penelope bemoaning the fact she couldn't swim." Clytaemnestra added, "And that was after how many lessons we gave her?"

Penelope's eyes narrowed, "What have you done?"

Clytaemnestra looked affronted, "I? Nothing, I can assure you. Managing Helen's affairs was enough of a task, do you think I'd be foolish enough to play matchmaker with you?"

"Besides, you're going to marry the horse lord, remember?" Helen said agreeably. "I am sure you two will be very happy."

"I never said I have chosen..."

"But I distinctly remember you did," Helen interrupted. "During the evening meal..."

"That was Clytaemnestra!" Penelope said, shocked. "I said I have suitors but haven't chosen any. I also said I said I didn't love him!"

"But then you went on how one often marries out of duty and not love." Clytaemnestra reminded Penelope. "By following your reasoning since he is the best of the lot, you have chosen him."

Penelope shook her head, "You are all fools. All this plotting has addled your minds."

"I hear Odysseus will be departing after the wedding feast." Helen said, switching the topic to unbalance her cousin even further. "I must thank him for all that he has done."

"You don't need to fret about that," Clytaemnestra said. "Remember, Menaláos will be offering a treaty with the King of Ithaca. I'm sure Odysseus will be very pleased with that alone."

"He's leaving? So soon?" Penelope said, "Why does he not stay for a few days longer?"

"He is king, he has numerous duties." Clytaemnestra said. "I also overheard him conversing with Ajax of the harvests that will come to pass in the next thirty days. It seems the islands will be bustling with activities and festivals, some of which he must attend to."

"Sounds like Odysseus will be enjoying himself immensely," Helen commented. "He deserves it, always striving to improve the life of his people. Perhaps he will meet a pleasing girl in one of the festivities, a noble born but one with common sense and someone who is unafraid of the life he has to offer."

"Why should she be afraid?" Penelope asked.

"Island life isn't easy," Clytaemnestra explained. "Only the hardiest people can survive such isolation and cultivate a fruitful world as Odysseus has done. I do hope he will send me some of his honey. Helen, remind him a rich trade can made with Mycenae if he decides to sell his honey to us."

Helen laughed softly, "I will tell him tonight."

"Any girl afraid of such a life in Ithaca is empty-headed fool." Penelope said. "She will be made queen, and there are worse husbands to be had than Odysseus."

"My thoughts exactly," Helen said sweetly.

---

Menaláos absently toyed with the crown resting in his hands, his mind unfocused by the events earlier in the day.

"Menaláos, you must get dressed unless you wish to be late to your own wedding." Odysseus said.

"I cannot believe it," Menaláos whispered. "She chose me. She said ‘I choose Menaláos.' I knew I heard her but I cannot believe she said those words."

"What did you expect her to say? ‘Since I have been cornered into choosing one of your worthless hides, it might as well be Menaláos?'" Odysseus said.

Machaon burst out laughing, joined by Achilles who had to sit down because he was overcome with mirth.

Menaláos smiled and shook his head, "Thank you, Odysseus, for those kind words. But, to tell the truth I expected Tyndareus to make the choice or have Helen defer to her father in making the announcement. Instead, he deferred to her."

Achilles nodded, "Yes, I noticed that, very unusual, I have never seen the like."

"And that leads you to believe Helen indeed chose you without any influence from her father, sister or cousin?" Odysseus guessed.

"It is a fool's dream, isn't it?" Menaláos said with false lightness in his voice.

"I think that since you will be marrying Helen you can discuss it with her as you wish." Machaon said. "If it bothers you so."

"But not tonight," Achilles added. "Tonight, General, you will be the envy of every man on earth."

"Which won't happen unless Menaláos prepares himself!" Odysseus said, "Quickly, the sun sets and the servants are already firing the torches."

Euneon entered the chamber, looking resplendent in his polished regalia, "The army has entered the gates and are waiting for the presentation. I have never seen them so excited or so happy."

Menaláos' smile grew, "Good, tell them to prepare themselves. Tonight, they will witness Sparta's greatest treasure and Zeus' finest gift to our people."

"You will reveal Helen to them?" Achilles said, surprised. "Does she know?"

"Not yet," Menaláos said. "But I want her to see the army's unswerving loyalty to her and her family, and I want them to know that Helen is Sparta and we have no greater duty than to protect her."

"It might overwhelm her," Machaon cautioned, "Remember, there is the wedding and the banquet following the ceremony."

"It will be brief," Menaláos said, "But the impact will do much to alleviate Helen's fears."

"Unless you plan to attend the entire thing naked, you must change." Odysseus needled the groom. "The robe you're wearing is certainly unworthy of all the magnificence planned for tonight."

Euneon chuckled, "He has a point. I will make sure the soldiers are assembled in front of the palace's gates. You go ahead and pretty yourself for your bride."

Menaláos gave a wry glance at the grizzled man but kept silent. His bride, his wife. Those words kept him wrapped in euphoria as he decked himself in the appropriate finery. Only when the crown was once more placed on his head did Menaláos fully awaken to reality.

"I hear music, King of Sparta," Odysseus said softly. "It has begun."

Menaláos took a deep breath, "Then let us move forth and brave whatever shall come to pass."

---

"The ceremony was surprisingly brief," Hector said to Odysseus. "Spartan custom, is it not?"

"Why do you ask?"

"We take days to celebrate our weddings," Hector explained. "It is time for great happiness and hopes."

"Of course, the reason the ceremony was so brutally short might be because Menaláos wanted to wed Helen as soon as possible, and who could blame him?" Odysseus said.

Hector laughed, "No, I certainly cannot. I didn't think it was possible but Helen looks even lovelier than ever."

"I had the same thoughts." Odysseus agreed. "I wonder why Tyndareus did not remain to witness his child's wedding."

"He didn't want anyone to be reminded of the old rule," Hector explained. "Best to have a fresh start with the marriage. Besides, this is the best time for the old king to slip away in safety. I am sure Menaláos secured a secure passage for the king and a comfortable haven to live out the rest of his days."

If her father's absence was affecting her Helen didn't show it. Indeed, Helen was even more otherworldly tonight. Her glossy midnight hair was unbound and freed from any constraints, cascaded wildly to her waist. The bronzed skin was accented by Helen's shimmering blue robe which seemingly caressed her body as she walked. The newly minted queen made everyone breathless every time she approached a guest. Not even the women in the room could withstand the enchantment Helen seemed to weave over the gathering. All of them whispered how beautiful she was, and how generous a nature Helen possessed as the wife made acquaintance with them. Their magnanimous attitude would have been less keen had Helen been unwed and in search of a husband, but she was freshly married and seemed to be genuinely content with her choice, so words were kindly given.

Menaláos made a desperate attempt not to hover over Helen as she enjoyed herself, but unable to control his rampant emotions, it wasn't long before he was by his wife's side. And Helen seemed actually happy to have him lead her hand, joining the conversations and initiating private ones with her. He was glad he didn't bejewel her for the banquet, in his eyes she was perfection and to decorate her would only seem lavishly foolish. He caught Euneon gesturing towards the entrance and gave a nod of understanding.

Menaláos whispered to Helen, "The Army is waiting for the presentation of their king and queen."

Helen looked up at him, "They want to see me? Why?"

Menaláos laughed at the honest comment, "Because you are my wife and their queen, and I wish it."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. It will only be a moment. Helen, you have nothing to fear. It will go well, I promise."

Menaláos saw Helen take a deep breath before giving a nod of consent. Euneon led their path and soon the royal couple was greeted with the extraordinary noise of the Spartan Army chanting. Menaláos climbed the steps to the top of the lookout point centered on the palace's southern wall. The army exploded into a roar, their various weapons clashing against their shields. Then he turned and raised his right hand as an invitation for Helen to join him. She slowly came into view of the soldiers and deathly stillness fell over the eleven thousand men.

Menaláos was not surprised; the silence indicated to him how much the army believed her beauty to be nothing more than rumor. But here she stood; legend made flesh, goddess made queen by mortal birth and marriage to a mortal man. Helen gave a solemn bow, her hair cascading over her shoulders, framing the inhumanely lovely face. The soldiers remained silent though every single one returned her sign of respect. Most of them craned their heads to gaze at the queen who made their general king, and thus, symbolically gave each of them the throne of Sparta.

Menaláos was correct in his assumptions; the army was in love and through him their love was accepted by Helen. By vicariously living Menaláos' marriage, they too will be blessed. And woeful tidings to anyone who would dare to disturb such domestic bliss for the army would readily defend and kill to protect this most cherished alliance between crown and soldier.

---

Penelope quietly ordered for more wine for the guests, already gauging the supplies laid out to be low. She sighed in contentment as she watched Helen drift through the crowd, smiling in earnest and fully partaking in the festivities that were her wedding.

"She seems genuinely happy," Odysseus said from behind her, startling the watchful cousin.

"Yes, she is." Penelope agreed readily. "And I hear I have you to thank for it."

"Some of it was my doing, yes, but my reasons were selfless."

"I doubt that."

"You wound me with your doubts, Lady Penelope." Odysseus claimed.

"In spite of your jovial façade, King of Ithaca, I fear you have a heart so heavily armor-clad, it would take a mighty blow from Ares' sword to dent it."

"And who has told you of this?" Odysseus asked, genuinely puzzled by Penelope's comment.

"No one, an observation of my own." Penelope answered readily and firmly.

"And how have you come to such a beggarly conclusion?"

"You deliberately cultivated friendship with Menaláos because he was Tyndareus' favorite and thus a reasonable choice for future son-in-law. Even if he weren't chosen, Menaláos would still remain the general of the Spartan Army -- a most powerful ally to have should Ithaca ever need help from her friends ashore. You also have earned Helen's undying gratitude by withdrawing your suit, thus eliminating one worry from her mind because you knew you didn't have a chance against the likes of Prince Hector and Ajax. All the while you schemed on her behalf so she could do as she wished, thus compiling her debt to you."

"The cool logic behind your thinking is quite frightening, but true." Odysseus admitted. "So what does that make me? A practiced mercenary or a desperate king?"

"Neither. As long as you stand by Menaláos and honor his friendship you are a strong ally."

"I believe you have actually flattered me. I must remember it for it is the first time you ever spoke kindly of the farmer king."

"I never spoke meanly of you, only honestly."

"But a man in love does not want to hear honesty, Lady Penelope. He wants to hear sweet words of flattery and promises of wifely devotion."

"You must tell that to the girl you're going to marry when you return to Ithaca." Penelope said, suppressing a very strong desire to laugh.

"What girl?" Odysseus asked, genuinely alarmed. "I don't have a bride chewing her tongue, patiently waiting for me. If I did, I never would have come to Sparta to try and win Helen."

"The girl my cousins told me you would probably meet in your many harvest festivities," Penelope explained as if she were speaking to a simpleton. "What were Helen's words? A noble born but one possessing common sense and unafraid of the life you have to offer."

Odysseus didn't hesitate, "Shame I traveled all the way here only to go home and try to harvest one there."

"Why? Are the girls of your homeland so plain?"

"No, but I find the women of Sparta to be a special breed indeed. They seem to have a singular way of making people dance to their tune."

"And you find this attractive?"

"It is such a pretty tune, I will miss hearing the music when I return to Ithaca."

"A man who is so willing to be manipulated?" Penelope asked, "I am surprised to hear you confess such weakness."

"Not a weakness, more like a foible for I love a good challenge."

"Honestly? A king who wishes for a wife to study his words and actions, and dare I say contradict them on occasion?"

"Why not? Better to have a wife whose face I can see than one whose face is a mystery to me because she's scraping the floor with it."

Penelope burst out laughing, "Odysseus! Be careful, Aphrodite might hear you and curse you to such a fate!"

"No, it is not a curse," Odysseus declared, "I have seen wives whose rank in a man's house is no better than the lowliest of slaves. And from such women no happiness can ever be born. My wife, and there ever shall be only one, will be queen and she shall be treated as such, even by me. My people are unforgiving, Lady Penelope. They do not tolerate weakness of the mind or the body, and will demand that their queen be the leading example of this unspoken creed of our land."

"You best wed a strong mare then."

"That was cruel. Calling Ithacan women brood horses..."

"I did no such thing!"

"You're attracting attention. Clytaemnestra might be led to believe we're bickering like we've been married for years."

"We are bickering," Penelope said.

"And I thought we were flirting. How will I ever win this Ithacan noble maiden if my wooing skills are so poor?"

"Blackmail her into marriage. Threaten her entire family with eternal slavery if she refuses."

"Spartans are romantics, aren't they? But then you did say you would probably end up marrying out of duty and not love."

"Why is everyone reminding me of that?" Penelope said irritably.

"Because it was such a sad notion, especially coming from you."

"Why sad?" Penelope asked.

"Because a woman with your intelligence, beauty, and will could surely find a way to marry the man she loves."

"I love none."

"And that's even more tragic. Are all men so beneath you that you wouldn't even cast a glance at them?"

"I am no haughty creature, King of Ithaca. I am cautious with my feelings."

"Interesting explanation. So, who was the man who forced you to practice such vigilance?"

Penelope smiled softly, "You interpret my words very well. We were young and he left me to seek his fortunes elsewhere. He found them and much happiness in his travels."

"You honestly loved him then," Odysseus said, his voice filled with wonderment and surprise.

"Yes, I did." Penelope answered.

"Is there room left in your heart for another, then? If not now, in the future?"

"It depends on the man."

"How about a king?" Odysseus asked, his voice softening unconsciously.

"That would help me reconsider, yes."

"A wise king?"

"That would even be better."

"A wise king whose wealth is entirely tied to his land and his people?"

"Depends on the land and the people."

"Good people, rich lands as far as the eye can see. And a palace that faces the sea and whose master chambers sing the songs of the waves washing ashore."

"Now you exaggerate."

"No, I do not." Odysseus quickly disagreed, his tongue fairly tripping over itself to reveal the hidden delights of his world. "It has been those sounds which allow me to fall asleep so quickly. Some days my mind is filled with such ... things, I have hard time sleeping. In my youth I was tormented for days because I was unable to rest. Out of desperation I moved my chambers to the south and found rescue from what seemed like a lifetime of torture. I cannot go long without returning to my refuge."

"Why are you telling me something so intimate?" Penelope asked.

"To secure your sympathy?" Odysseus replied promptly.

"You have it."

"Is that enough to win your favors?"

"Definitely not," Penelope said, noticing the somewhat crestfallen look on her companion's face. "However, if you care to discuss this further, you might persuade my opinion to your liking."

"I shall have to speak quickly, for my ship departs tomorrow morn."

"I suggest you start immediately then."

---

Clytaemnestra whispered to Menaláos, "I see the farmer king is hard at work."

He gave a knowing smile and said, "They've been talking ever since Helen and I returned from the presentation. I dare guess there will be yet another wedding in the near future."

"I like him though he is not the type of man I am familiar with," Clytaemnestra said. "He has many layers, and is quite unwilling to reveal most of them."

"Yes, deviousness is part of his nature, but it is well tamed by his sense of honor," Menaláos said. "His army isn't big enough to cause worries but his navy is formidable, and an alliance with Ithaca can only benefit both Sparta and Mycenae."

"You are thinking of three points, are you not?"

"My compliments, so you've already seen my future map of our world. By creating such a design we will have a secure hold; one so powerful others will dare not challenge."

"And all tied together by Spartan wives." Clytaemnestra said.

"The strongest bond I have ever witnessed," Menaláos said. "And witnessed by all of Helen's suitors. They know now what you three are capable of, and will behave with caution in order to avoid calamity visiting their doorsteps."

"Were you thinking of all this while you pursued my sister?"

"No, I was mindless with envy because Helen loved you so much and didn't care whit for me. My thoughts forever whirling with jealousy and hope, at constant war with each other."

"You can rest easy now, Menaláos." Clytaemnestra said. "My sister's loyalty is not easily given and once earned, it can never be lost lest you choose to discard it."

"I must ask ... the final decision ... was it hers? Or did she obey Tyndareus?"

"It was hers, never fear." Clytaemnestra answered. "I knew the moment she woke today."

"Thank you, I was worried about her reception of my presence tonight."

"Menaláos," Clytaemnestra hesitated, "Helen ... Helen has cause to fear a man's touch. Her entire life she had been hounded by scoundrels who wanted nothing more than have her entertain them in bed. From such ugly lessons Helen learned to fear male desires because of the violence she believes to be inevitable when such emotions surface ... be patient with her, please, for all our sakes."

"I have heard such rumors indicating Helen's hesitation and I can hardly blame her for it." Menaláos said, "Do not worry. I know my wife's fragility -- the one she hides so well behind that fierce façade of beauty and Spartan will. I love her, sister-in-law, and will not break her in such matters. Besides, so much can be gotten with patience than threats. I prefer a willing woman than a terrified victim in my bed."

---

Menaláos watched his wife warily, noting the tension in her shoulders, the sinew in her neck taut against the skin. Helen combed her hair before braiding it, a trivial affair but because her hands were trembling so badly it took her twice as long to do it properly. She came to their bed and sat on the edge, watching Menaláos extinguish the last lamp in the cavernous chamber.

He patiently waited for her to move but she did not. In the pale moonlight her preternatural stillness made it easy to believe she had suddenly turned into a statue.

"What is it, Helen? What fears have robbed you of all the joy you displayed earlier?" Menaláos finally asked.

"I have a story, one not to your liking. I do not come to this bed untouched."

"I know. Euneon told me your ordeal."

Helen took a deep breath, "I wondered if you knew. You looked so kindly towards me earlier. I knew you were watching me, observing my every mood."

"Surely you didn't pretend to be happy."

"No, I was."

"But no longer because of what Theseus had done to you."

Menaláos felt Helen's hand brush against his hair; the incredible heat emanating from her body startled him. Was she so frightened that she was overcome with fever? His desires, though great, were extinguished by his worries.

"The King of Athens was cause of celebration, husband, not tears. I see Euneon doesn't know all, as well as he should be for very few do know the truth and all are in my family."

Menaláos felt dread snake itself into his heart. He sat up and asked, "What truth?"

"Theseus went looking for a wife but he wasn't alone in his quest. He had company, a prince named Pirithous. I was with my sister celebrating a festival we Spartans dedicate to Artemis. By this time my father was well aware the dangers that hounded me because of my face, so I was rarely allowed to attend any function outside the palace walls. This was one of those rare occasions, and both men were well aware of it.

"Clytaemnestra was only few steps away when they came. I honestly didn't know what danger I was in at first, but she did. She lunged for me and I began screaming immediately. It was that monster, Pirithous, who stabbed her. And yet, she still clung to me hard enough that he had to drag her sixteen paces before she let go. I thought she was dead and that I was to blame. I cried the entire journey, never stopping to eat or even drink. I think Theseus immediately began to regret his decision to join his friend on his mad quest but there was no turning back. Sparta would declare war as soon as they found the culprits and there would be no ransoming for me. Not after what they had done to the temple grounds and to my sister."

"You weren't twelve, were you?" Menaláos whispered.

"No, I was ten. The two made a wager to see who would possess me, and it was Pirithous who won. I clung to Theseus, begging him not to abandon me to the man who killed my sister. He told me later that after Pirithous left with me he wept with shame for what he had done. He soon gave chase, but our ship had already sailed and he could do nothing but watch it disappear.

"Perhaps Pirithous meant to wait until I reached womanhood but he was in terror that someone would tell my father and brothers of my whereabouts. Knowing they would never agree to marriage, he decided to force their hand. The rapes began soon after my arrival. Night after night. I learned not to cry after a few days, and after what seemed like forever I learned not to feel. Pirithous told the palace servants I was a fancied slave, nothing more and they must never trust me whatever I say. They listened more out of fear than anything, but his decree doomed me.

"I had a child but she was stillborn. They wouldn't let me see her, just took her away. I doubt they even gave her a proper burial. Pirithous was furious; the baby would have ensured that I would have to marry him. I thought he would kill me then and was glad of it. It was few days after that I found Theseus by my bedside. He hunted for two years, looking for me. He was horrified by what I had become and I believe it was his guilt that drove him to take so many risks in order to smuggle me out of his friend's grasp."

"But he didn't return you to your family," Menaláos guessed.

"No, he took me to his home and left me in the care of his mother. At first I expected the same treatment but it wasn't long before I realized Theseus was different. He told me he would wed me but only when I was ready, and with his mother's permission. Until then he would keep his distance and would do everything in his power to earn my good will. His freeing me from Pirithous earned all the good will I had left but he wanted more, and Theseus was gentle and patient. He let me pick apples from his orchards; he taught me how to ride horses and string a bow. He told me of his adventures and took me on outings to inspect his lands."

"How old was he?" Menaláos asked.

"He was nearing fifty, but I didn't care. I was free. I had meals with real food, and fruit, and anything else I wanted to eat. Pirithous was afraid I'd try to escape so he curtailed what I ate to only drinks and some mean dishes to make sure I stayed frail. Theseus' mother gave me decent clothes; Pirithous kept me near naked in order to humiliate me further and break my will. Theseus let me sleep with many lamps burning precious oil. And my room was right next to his mother's so I knew no one would dare to violate me in my sleep."

"You would have married him?"

"Then? Yes. I was more than willing to lie to everyone so I could continue to have him protect me. I would have told father that Pirithous stole me against Theseus' wishes in order to perform unspeakable acts on me. And that Theseus came to my rescue after being unable to ignore my plight. I would have told anything to save Theseus from a war with my father and brothers.

"As it turns out a spy discovered the truth and reported to my father. Euneon with my brothers and a large contingent of the army stormed Theseus' home and rescued me. They were determined to kill Theseus but he was away on one of his many travels. So, instead, they took his mother hostage. I was terrified for her, afraid that she would suffer the same fate that I did under Pirithous. So one night, when we were but a day's ride away from here, I set her free. I gave her coins, disguises, and a safe path for her to return home. Then I faked an illness, forcing everyone to abandon any idea of giving chase and instead had them rush me to my father's arms. My performance must have been convincing because they were terrified I'd die before we reached the walls of Sparta.

"It was only then, when I saw the look on my father's face, that I realized he was actually happy to see me. I didn't know Clytaemnestra survived the stabbing. I always believed that I was to blame for her death so I also believed my father hated me. It took me some time to become used to home once more, and though I wished for Theseus to make his intentions known, I never heard from him again. And with all that had happened, I dare not ask my father what fate befell on the King of Athens. It was only after Clytaemnestra's wedding that she was able to discover his misfortunes. I think my heart broke to hear such bleak news, but I believe he will do well wherever he makes his home."

Menaláos heard his wife sigh and once again noted how strange it was to listen to such a violent tale told by someone so composed. He was undeniably shaken; never would he have guessed his wife could have endured so much and in her childhood. Menaláos also understood she told the story for a reason -- to deflect whatever questions he might have had should she receive him dutifully but coldly into her wedding bed.

"Helen, you must be exhausted. Penelope told me of you taking medicines in order to find complete rest. Come, let us sleep." Menaláos said, opening his arms.

"Sleep?" Helen echoed, feeling stupid because she thought she heard him incorrectly.

"Sleep," Menaláos said, a hint of humor coloring his tone. "We have much to do tomorrow."

Menaláos saw her hesitation before she fell into his arms. He embraced her lightly, breathing in the scent of her hair. Only now did he fully understand Clytaemnestra's warning and was doubly grateful for it. He will help Helen conquer her fears, and in return she will be even more bound to him. He deliberately slowed down his breathing, feigning sleep, and it wasn't long before he knew Helen had surrendered to her exhaustion. Menaláos smiled in the dark and began planning a campaign that would make him the victor of her love.

Part VIII

Helen didn't open her eyes. She wanted her fingers to explore unaided by sight. She could still feel Menaláos' easy breathing and felt comforted by the rhythmic sound. Slowly, her right index finger traced the throat, then slowly stroked the chin and followed the path sliding up the high cheekbones. It was then she knew her husband wasn't asleep.

"How long have you been awake?"

Menaláos smiled and finally opened his eyes, "I didn't sleep."

Helen met his gaze and apologetically smiled, "I guess I am to blame then."

"Yes, dear wife, you are to blame." He whispered and tightened his hold. "But I'd be a heartless fool to complain to you or to anyone else."

Helen laughed softly and her fingers wove through the wheat-colored hair, marveling at the color. "I have never seen such a shade..."

"It is a gift from my mother," Menaláos explained. "Agamémnon and I share it."

Helen lazily dragged her finger across his lips, her eyes drinking in the sight of her husband. So intense was her gaze Menaláos asked:

"What are you thinking of?"

"I am trying to memorize your face," Helen said. "When you are not by my side and I am in need of you, I can close my eyes and carve your face from the air."

"Helen, I will always be where you need me to be."

"Menaláos, you are now king. Your duties will pull you away from my side; it is the course of things."

Menaláos maneuvered Helen until he was directly facing her. "Do not surrender your claim to me until it needs to be done, wife."

"I do not surrender, in all things, Menaláos." Helen whispered. "May I kiss you now?"

"As you wish."

The kiss was hesitant, more exploratory than passionate but Menaláos knew what triggered it and was more than happy to let her continue exploring her curiosities. However, the loud banging on the door told him his wishes would not come to pass.

"This cannot be happening," Menaláos hissed loudly as the knocking grew louder and more insistent.

Helen laughed softly and rolled off from him, "I think you are wanted, King."

Menaláos sat up and barked, "Enter!"

Euneon marched in, half walking, half running. "I just received news. Las has been hit by raiders. The city wall stands but the messenger said they cannot hold off the invasion for long."

Menaláos threw a frustrated glance at Helen before giving orders. Euneon, only too aware of what he had disturbed, hurried out of the room, only too glad that he was able to depart with his head still attached. Helen watched her husband prepare himself, savagely throwing on his armor all the while cursing under his breath. Helen rose from the bed, wrapped in its sheet and disappeared around the corner, while Menaláos watched her departure like a starving man.

Helen returned few moments later. She waited patiently until Menaláos was dressed before approaching him.

"Keep this with you," Helen said, revealing an amulet hidden in her fist. It was a simple trinket. The chain was made of leather and the charm dangling from the center seemed to be carved from a white stone.

"What is it?" Menaláos asked as she put it on his neck.

"A gift from Zeus to my mother when she bore me and my brother." Helen said. "Do not ask. When you return I will reveal all. But, as long as you wear this, Zeus will know who you are and what you mean to me."

Menaláos was stunned, "A gift from the king of gods, Helen? Do not jest about such things..."

"I am serious, Menaláos," Helen said before kissing him again. "It will keep you safe from harm. I know you have fallen once in the field of battle and I fear it will happen often enough now that you are king. Neither Sparta nor I can afford to lose you so soon after what we were made to endure."

Menaláos embraced her tightly, "I shall return. I always keep my promises, Helen."

He rushed out of the room, not daring to take a backwards glance for his will would break if he saw what he had to abandon to fulfill his duties. From a hidden balcony Helen watched Menaláos and their army depart with full speed. She felt fear tug at her heart as they disappeared from view. Trying not to cave into her fears Helen briskly went about the business of cleaning up the aftermath of the festivities.

All of the servants were made aware of their king's sudden departure on his wedding morn and more than a few felt sorry for both the bride and the groom. So, it was a very efficient crew who did the work and the palace was made spotless before the sun reached its apex. Helen dutifully retreated to her chambers where she had nothing else to do but wait for Menaláos' return. Within moments Helen felt crazed and deliberately sought out companionship.

A concerned servant visited Penelope's quarters in order to warn her of the morning's events. Thus, the cousin had little time to make herself proper before Helen barged into her room.

"I heard," Penelope said. "So, Menaláos now knows the full extent of his responsibilities. The poor man."

Helen laughed and sat down on the bed, "Poor me."

"Was he everything you wished for?" Penelope asked cautiously.

"Well, he doesn't kick in his sleep if that is what you're wondering."

"What?" Penelope was stunned. "Exactly what happened last night?"

"We slept ... at least I did."

"And that is all?" Penelope asked, unable to believe Menaláos didn't make claim of his rights to Helen's bed.

"I told him about Pirithous. I tried to forget about him but as the night progressed, my mind kept returning to those two horrible years. Menaláos suspected some evil doings but believed it was Theseus who committed them. I had to tell the truth then."

Penelope embraced her cousin, "Oh, Helen. How did Menaláos react?"

"With pity and kindness. He said I should sleep because I was exhausted from the day's events. He held me in his arms; that is all."

"How did you feel? Relieved?"

"Yes..."

"And?" Penelope added cautiously. "Something else, perhaps?"

Helen sighed, "I will confess I wondered what it would be like to have him as a lover now that I am matured and womanly. So Fates would have their fun at my expense; he is called away from my side and will be long absent in order to attend to his duties as king."

Penelope threw back her head and laughed. It was only moments before Helen joined her cousin, and soon the two were rolling on the bed, drowning in laughter. Drawn by the raucous sound Clytaemnestra was surprised to find them in such a state and it was a long time before either Penelope or Helen could explain properly.

---

"It isn't my fault," Euneon said with a crooked smile. "I didn't plan for the raiders to come calling."

Menaláos gave a long-suffering look before sighing heavily, "Yes, I know, but it doesn't lessen the insult that my bed is now empty of my hard-earned wife."

"Look at it this way, the mood you're in we could probably sit back and let you loose onto them."

Menaláos laughed, "You always do manage to find advantages even in the blackest of situations. Do not fear; I will lay down my wrath on the raiders and no one else."

"Then ride like the winds back to Sparta where Helen waits for you." Euneon added, his crooked smile growing quickly.

"I still have a hard time believing it really happened," Menaláos confessed. "Especially now that I have returned to my duties as your general."

"It all does seem unreal, doesn't it?" Euneon agreed. "I wonder how the queen feels."

"Helen has firm temperament," Menaláos said. "I am willing to wager she will adjust to the changes faster than I."

"Really?" Euneon was taken back to hear Menaláos make such a claim. "I would not have thought that to be possible -- you are the most practical man I have ever met."

"It has nothing to do with practicality but with adaptability. My wife has been forced to accept many situations, most of them not to her liking, in order to survive."

Euneon heard the hint behind the politely worded sentence and did not further delve into the topic. Instead he turned the conversation to the oncoming battle and soon both he and Menaláos were lost in the martial discussions.

---

Penelope watched Odysseus and his men disappear, fighting the urge to run after him if only to look upon his countenance one more time. Though she knew he was solid in his feelings for her, Penelope was too well aware of her father's fondness for his only daughter. She suspected Icarius would throw up many obstacles if only to hinder Odysseus from marrying his favorite child and carrying her off to a faraway land.

"He will stay true," Clytaemnestra whispered, wrapping a comforting arm around her cousin. "You will see him before the year is over."

Penelope sighed and rested her head on the strong shoulder, "I miss him already. Is that not strange? I should be doubting him, even now, and I have good cause for he came to win Helen's hand, not mine."

"And would you blame Helen for the same fault since she is marrying Menaláos? A man not of Spartan blood, one who is much older than she is, and a second prince with no great kingdom to add to our lands?"

"No, of course not. But then I always had hard time finding faults with you two."

Clytaemnestra gave a kiss on her cousin's forehead, "Come, let us say farewell to the suitors who are departing. Though they leave without wife, I think their tongues will be filled with such grand tales -- the men will entertain their people for years hence."

The two women found Helen talking sweetly to Achilles in what was obviously a private conversation. Then, the man did something that astonished them; he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss, not unlike the one Clytaemnestra gave to Penelope, before departing. They saw Helen's eyes cloud with unshed tears and wondered what secret the two shared that they were not privy to.

"You will miss him?" Penelope asked.

"Like a brother torn from my side," Helen whispered. "In the time I have gotten to know him, he changed from an arrogant suitor to a man of honor and an invaluable ally. I will pray he does find a wife of equal worth, one who will bring him much happiness and blessings to his life."

"Hector approaches," Clytaemnestra whispered. "I must remember to thank the gods that he departs today."

Helen managed to bite her tongue and hold back her laugh as she greeted the heir of Troy.

"And fair day to you also, Queen of Sparta," Hector said with the appropriate bow of respect. "Machaon has decided to visit my lands; he believes he has much to learn from our medicinal lore and practices. And I must admit his company will keep me entertained for the travel will be long."

"We wish you safe journey and will pray for all those departing from Sparta."

Hector smiled openly, surprising Helen. When unmasked of his haughtiness and arrogance, Hector resembled a mischievous child. "Thank you for that offering, for it is surely more than I deserve."

Hector than took Helen's hand and placed an object in her palm. It was the pair of earrings she rejected days before. "As a token of my appreciation, for I suspect it was you who prevented your father from declaring war with Troy. If you are in need of anything, remember Troy for I will never forget the kindness and the infinite patience you have bestowed upon my person."

"Be well, Hector," Helen said, "And may your world be blessed with future princes carrying your blood."

With another reverent bow the prince left Helen, not looking back for in that moment Hector understood exactly how deeply embedded was his love for the queen. And though he would return to Ilium a bachelor, he will sing praises of Helen and hope he will choose as wisely as she did when it came time for him to find a wife.

Not for fame, not for riches, but for Sparta -- her people, did she arrive at the marriage bed. Hector would say to his father. And she chose well for Menaláos loves her as much as he loves her kingdom, and will move the very seas to see both happy and safe. So do not feel slighted, father, that she chose a second prince and not I. What Helen does, she does out of love and duty. Such a woman should be accorded with all the respect and honor we can bestow upon her.

---

Menaláos watched the ships burn as his soldiers removed their wounded and dying from the beaches. His face was unnaturally pale and the skin tightly drawn across the cheekbones. Miraculously Las had withstood the onslaught long enough for Menaláos and the army to arrive and drive back the invaders. It was a bloody two-day confrontation but his army persevered in the end.

"Did the ship escape?" Menaláos asked Euneon.

"One ship, just like your ordered." Euneon answered. "And when it gets to wherever it's going..."

"Its survivors will tell a violent tale indeed -- that the price of invading Sparta is high, too high for the likes of them." Menaláos finished the sentence. "Fear is our greatest weapon and we should use it whenever possible. Pile the carcasses on that part of the rocky shore and set fire; don't forget to use the firestones. Only ashes should remain so that their souls would forever be marred in the underworld."

"And the enemies who have survived?"

"Cull through the herd. Separate the ones with minor wounds from the rest and bind them; we will have need of them for the first killings. Throw the rest into the fire with the corpses. They are of no further use to us. Remember to make the flames bright enough so that Hades himself will see it from his throne and anticipate the new arrivals."

"Should we silence them so we don't distress the citizens of Las?" Euneon asked.

"No. There is a good chance that a traitor or a spy is within the walls of the city. Let them hear the screams and learn the price of betrayal. We will camp here until the task is done, but at first light let us return to Sparta. My heart betrays me and wishes to be by Helen's side as soon as possible. "

"I'll make sure your orders are carried out." Euneon said.

"Thank you old friend," Menaláos said, finally allowing exhaustion to catch up with him. "If there is any need, wake me."

"As you wish, General."

---

Clytaemnestra tucked Iphigenia securely into the carriage, giving final instructions to the nurse.

"Do you have everything you need?" Helen asked anxiously as she watched her sister's men prepare for departure.

"You have outfitted us with everything we need and more." Clytaemnestra answered, "Do not worry; Agamémnon's fleet will meet us in three days in Helus and there will be escort ships aplenty."

"Send me word when you reached Mycenae. I will not properly rest until you do."

"I always do, sister." Clytaemnestra said. "I am sure Agamémnon will know of his brother's ascension before I reach court, but he will want to hear all so do I have your permission to tell him what has trespassed?"

"I will leave it to your discretion. You are so sensible about such things." Helen said with a twinkle in her eye.

"I will make sure Menaláos' name will be praised throughout our land. Be well, sister, and find happiness for you have brought much blessing to Sparta and to me."

Helen embraced Clytaemnestra for one final time, already feeling the aching loss of her sister's companionship. She fought tears as she watched them depart and promised herself she would travel to her sister's court as soon as Menaláos agreed to such a scheme. Penelope later found her cousin praying fervently in the palace's temple, and quietly stood watch as Helen recited the ancient words.

Helen's devout beliefs never ceased to surprise Penelope. It was a secret known only to a very select few that Helen never failed to offer daily prayers, even when all was quiet and there was no need to beseech the help of the gods. Penelope wondered if Helen prayed because she wanted to or because she was driven by the need to. The cousin was all too aware that Helen believed herself to be a curse -- a misconception reinforced by the rumors spread after Leda's suicide. Tyndareus had strictly forbidden anyone of informing his daughter what his wife had said before hanging herself from the walls of the palace, but the enforced silence only heightened the many speculations and soon rumors worse than the truth had spread through the lands.

Thus, it was only matter of time before Helen heard some of the tales and did blame herself for her mother's untimely death. It took Tyndareus years to help his daughter overcome the terrible guilt and in the process also managed to convince Helen that he held her blameless for all the tragedies his house suffered. This act of kindness earned his daughter's enduring love and filial loyalty whose degree was unmatched throughout Sparta. Not even Penelope could claim such devotion even though she also loved her father dearly.

"Helen, you are needed in the palace." Penelope interrupted only after Helen finished reciting her prayers.

Helen stood up, dusted off her robe and turned to her cousin. "I was praying for the travelers, especially Clytaemnestra and Iphigenia."

"With so many prayers shielding them, I am sure they will reach their homes safely. Come, we have great number of tasks to accomplish for tonight."

"I wonder how Menaláos and the army are faring. It has been full eight days since he left and he promised me he would send a messenger as soon as the fighting finishes."

"Helen!" Penelope gently chided, "Are you nagging already?"

Helen ruefully smiled and shook her head, "It is a terrible fate but one must accept. When one is newly wed everything will worry you to no end."

"Must remember that when I become wife. Wouldn't want Odysseus to tire himself out with trivialities, much less turn into a nag because he just married."

"Penelope, I sincerely doubt the King of Ithaca will share my worries." Helen said. "And I have faith that you will put him to right if he does."

Penelope smiled and threaded her arm with Helen's. "Come, let us worry about supper and other household duties while we wait for your king's return. And, if you feel generous, you might advise me on how to convince my father to let me marry Odysseus. You know how fond he is of my presence at home and I fear he will make it impossible for the King of Ithaca to wed me in the near future."

"Oh, that is easily curable enough." Helen said, "Clytaemnestra suffered the same problem when Agamémnon first came calling. Though our father knew such a marriage would be advantageous, he made the poor man perform many formidable tasks before agreeing to the union. His excuse was that he wished to be sure the King of Mycenae would be good enough husband to Clytaemnestra."

"I guess it is the curse of having a Spartan father," Penelope wryly noted. "Or, more truthfully, being a Spartan daughter."

"How amusing, that is exactly what Clytaemnestra said."

---

"Do you want us to send a messenger ahead, King?" Euneon asked, "Since we are only half day's ride from Sparta."

"No, let me surprise Helen." Menaláos said. "Besides, I wish to bathe before I see her. I stink of horse sweat and blood and I doubt either scent will enchant my wife to come within a league of my person."

Euneon laughed and said, "Sound reasoning, no need to disillusion the queen any more than necessary. How many soldiers do you want for escort?"

"I need only six men, and make sure they can take a hard ride. I plan to be within the palace walls before the sun sets."

"You are eager to return, aren't you?" Euneon teased good-naturedly.

"If you had Helen waiting for you, wouldn't you be?"

"Good point," Euneon admitted. "Then I will say farewell now since I plan to stay with the army and see that they are properly treated."

"Rest well and I will see you tomorrow."

"Oh, somehow I doubt that." Euneon answered breezily. "I think you will be kept busy with other things."

"Not another word," Menaláos cautioned. "I am too tired to indulge in your bawdy humor today."

"So the King orders, I will obey."

Menaláos quickly outdistanced his escorts and before long entered Sparta with his men trailing far behind. He rode swiftly towards the palace, not caring what people thought of their king charging recklessly through the city streets. As soon as he entered the palace gates Menaláos started giving orders to the waiting servants, forcing them to scramble about in order to promptly fulfill his wishes.

Soon a hot bath was drawn in the bathing pool and Menaláos sank into the steaming water, grateful for the warmth. Scrubbing his hair clean he wondered if Helen was alerted to his presence. He felt somewhat deprived that she did not attend to his needs while equally grateful that she didn't seem him covered in grime and filth, reeking of unpleasant smells.

Menaláos was so entrenched in his thoughts he did not hear Helen enter the hall.

"You promised you would send a messenger ahead of your arrival." Helen chided, trying not to sound too much of a nag as the memory of the earlier discussion with Penelope played in her mind.

Menaláos' golden head snapped towards her direction and to his wife's secret satisfaction the man colored a little in embarrassment.

"I would have outdistanced the messenger, so desperate was I to return to you."

Helen saw the honesty behind the whispered words and smiled. She sat on the rim of the pool, her bare legs dangling in the water.

"I would have prepared the palace for your return. As it is, I hope you won't mind a simple fare for supper. Penelope and I were expecting to eat by ourselves."

Menaláos closed his eyes and rested his head on Helen's knees. "A simple fare will suit me well with such good company."

"You must be in some hurry to bathe since you stormed in here. I will wait for you outside."

"Helen?" Menaláos said.

"Yes, husband?"

Without warning Menaláos yanked his wife into the pool, soaking her from head to toe. He sat back and watched Helen sputter about, trying to sweep back the mess of soaked curls from her face. It was such an incongruous sight to see Helen undone, and Menaláos looked on with great amusement as Helen stared at him in stunned fury. It wasn't long before Menaláos was overcome with laughter, aggravating his wife even further.

"Have you gone mad?" Helen shouted. "I cannot possibly appear outside the door like this! What will the servants think?!"

Menaláos tipped his head to the side and made as if was studying his wife with care. "That is my plan, wife."

Helen froze when she finally understood what Menaláos had planned. He saw the slight shadow of fear cross her face and waited patiently for her to decide. Slowly, she raised her hands and Menaláos grasped them, pulling her into a tight embrace until she was fully pressed against him. Helen felt his whole body coil in anticipation and wondered what to do next. As she studied her husband's eyes, she noticed the pupils dilate, and only then did Helen fully understand the power she had over Menaláos.

He will not be made a weakened king because of this one control I have over him; I will not allow it. Helen thought to herself as she closed her eyes and kissed him. But, together, just the two of us, he will be mine, utterly. She felt Menaláos' entire being respond to her touches. Such sweetness and desire, so this is how it is suppose to be. How wondrous.

Penelope dined alone for three evenings straight.

Part IX

Menaláos patiently waited for his wife to join him in their private chambers. The husband knew it would take Helen some time to say farewell to her beloved cousin and he suspected there would be many tears both shed and unshed before Helen finally released her cousin to Icarius' care. He heard Helen's footsteps, methodically climbing up the hidden staircase. The sound confirmed his suspicions. She was deliberately moving slowly in order to clean her face of tears.

The curtain billowed outwards as Helen exited from one of the many hidden passageways within the palace. Her face was composed yet Menaláos knew she was battling for every minute control over her emotions.

"Helen, you promised to tell me about this," Menaláos said, showing her the charm she bestowed upon him before his departure. He hoped to distract her from her sadness -- it would not do well for his new bride to gloom over departed guests, even if the guest was blood kin.

"Of course, follow me." Helen said, picking up a lighted oil lamp.

She exited the room through yet another hidden entrance with Menaláos following her. The lamp shed only weak light but Helen was sure of her steps as she swiftly descended the steep stairs. They walked in silence for quite some time before they came to a locked door that looked too heavy for Helen to move. She opened it with ease and Menaláos noted the axels must be greased frequently as the door made no sound. The humid air told Menaláos they were in the deepest part of the palace yet and wondered if Tyndareus or his predecessors built these cavernous rooms and for what purpose.

Helen reached to her left and Menaláos blinked as his sight was blinded by light. Suddenly, the entire room was lit as the flames ignited throughout the chamber. Menaláos was taken back; there was a stone gutter that ran along the walls and from the scent it must contain some type of lighting oil. Then his mind became preoccupied with what was actually contained within the room.

"This is my dowry," Helen said. "From both my mother and father. As you can see Sparta benefited richly from its wars."

Menaláos surrendered counting the numerous weaponry, armors of precious metals, and trinkets. Most were crudely worked but their raw value was still astonishing. Helen opened a small wooden trunk and revealed a nest of jewelry made of the same white stone composing his charm.

"And how do you know this is from Zeus?" Menaláos asked.

"I was born with Pollux, Clytaemnestra with Castor. Everyone, including father, was shocked by the number of children Leda had that night. My father thought Zeus had shown his approval and went to the temple to give great thanks. Instead, he discovered an offering had been made to him. The temple priests were in an uproar, running about, yelling at each other. It took my father some time to calm them down to find out what happened.

"One of the younger acolytes claimed he had a vision -- that a horse will be waiting for Tyndareus at the eastern gates of the city. And that only he, the husband of Leda, should take the horse and the contents of its saddle. My father did as he was told, and indeed, there was a white horse waiting for him at the gates. He opened the saddlebag and found these. The acolyte told him the jewels were gift from Zeus -- for the birth of not only Tyndareus' children but also his for Pollux and I claim different sire than the mortal man who had lain with Leda. My father and the priests studied the white stones with great care, but in the end all they could say was that they look like pieces of an eggshell, but an eggshell belonging to what type of creature nobody could say. After years of studying the treasure I must agree with their judgment. I dare say they might indeed be remnants of eggs that once sheltered Zeus' favorite flying white steeds.

"What I am sure of is Zeus took care to shape these with his powers and that means the entire collection is imbued with protective charm. As long as Pollux and I give it willingly to the wearer, the person will be protected from great harm."

"The blessing of Zeus flows to his children, and they, in turn, are allowed to share the gift as they see fit." Menaláos said, his voice soft in wonder. "This is astonishing, Helen..."

"I paid a dear price for it, Menaláos." Helen said, "A dear price indeed."

"But your children, they will surely benefit from this," Menaláos said.

Helen nodded, "That was what makes this bane of a life bearable. To think that my children will never understand my suffering."

Menaláos embraced his wife and whispered, "Thank you."

Helen sighed and closed her eyes. "May I retire for the day? I fear my emotions are still unsettled because of Penelope's departure."

"Of course, we could discuss this when you feel better."

Menaláos kept his embrace firm around Helen's shoulders as they left the treasure chamber. He could feel the weight of Zeus' stone pressing against his throat and wondered if this gift was indeed the reason he was able to emerge from the battle of Las unscathed, free of even minor wounds.

---

Hector gracefully sheathed his sword, silently basking in the cheers raining down on his person as he once more dispatched another challenger to the cares of the priest-healers.

He turned to see his beloved sister Cassandra beaming down at him. Hector gave a deep bow of recognition and then turned to his parents sitting on the throne. Before he could utter his gratitude to them a booming sound traveled over the entire forum.

Priam frowned and turned to his left from where the sound grew ever louder. He dispatched a runner to discover the cause of such discord. The fleet-footed youth returned within moments.

"What is it, father?" Hector asked when he saw Priam break into a wide grin.

"It seems some scamp of a boy-man is beating all your brothers in their rings. Perhaps this ... shepherd, Paris, should earn a taste of your blade, Hector."

Cassandra countered, "Why should we make Hector correct the mistakes of his brothers? He has done more than enough for today."

Hecuba said, "I must agree with my daughter, King Priam. Hector performed more than his share of wondrous feats for the festivals."

"Let me see this invincible youth," Hector declared loudly. "If he is determined to shame my family then I am as determined to teach the braggart a worthy lesson."

Priam dispatched two palace guards to fetch the interloper. The men returned with a youth who looked barely into adulthood. Hector's lips twitched in humor as the poor shepherd frantically tried to straighten his dusty and well-worn robe when he saw the royal entourage waiting for him.

The youth bowed deeply and said in a trembling voice, "The honor you have bestowed upon my person can never be repaid. Forgive me for my inability to do so for I am only a humble shepherd from the mountains of Ida."

"Why are you here?" Priam asked.

"Your men ... they stole my cattle, including my favorite bull -- a creature I bought with hard-earned work."

"Are you accusing my father of thievery, boy?" Cassandra asked, her voice cold and distant. "For it was he who gave the orders for such creatures to be collected on behalf of this noble celebration."

"I never made such an accusation," Paris countered, "But the men took my animals without just compensation. How am I to ply my humble trade without beasts to tend for?"

"The boy has been wronged," Priam said. "I gave orders to my men to pay for their seizures. You will be compensated..."

"King, if I may be so bold," Paris interrupted to the shock of all listeners. "I wish to have my bull returned to my care. It is a good beast, old and humble, but he has long been useful to my work and it would distress me to see him carved into a meal."

"Father, let me solve this dilemma." Hector said then turning to the whippy youth. "If you can survive one encounter with me in the ring then you shall have all your animals returned to you, including your beloved bull. I, personally, will add a purse of silver to your worth for your troubles. What say you?"

Paris raised his eyes to the handsome prince and said, "What can a poor shepherd say but yes?"

Hector went to the corner where his weapons rested. Cassandra joined him, her usually serene face almost bloodless with great emotion.

"Hector, do you love me?" She asked in a deathly whisper.

The brother was taken back by the question but answered, "You are my most beloved sister, Cassandra. You know I do."

"Do you trust me, Hector?"

"Cassandra, I do not understand..."

"I know my father believes Hecuba's gift of foresight no longer, and thus, his prejudices against such powers runs against his own daughter. But you believe me when I tell you of my visions, don't you?"

"I believe you can see the future," Hector said. "But you know I also hold fast to the belief that the future can be altered with one act by a total stranger."

Cassandra lowered her voice even further, "Then, as my brother and future King of Troy -- kill that boy."

"What?" Hector said harshly.

"Kill the shepherd," Cassandra said. "If he lives my death is assured."

"Will he murder you?"

Cassandra hesitated, "He will not wield the blade that will do the bloody deed, but yes, he will be my end. If you love me, brother, I beg of you - do this. For me."

Hector didn't answer. Instead, he dropped his gaze to the collection of swords resting at his feet and took the one that was most battered. Cassandra smiled in relief; Hector chose his favorite killing weapon for that particular sword was used in many battles and it never left any survivor to tell the tale of the bloody confrontations.

Paris, already armed, waited for Hector at the center of the ring. Cassandra returned to her seat, her body tense with anticipation and fear. Priam raised his hand and signaled for the contestants to begin. Even though Hector was physically larger than Paris, the older man was as nimble and flexible and it didn't take long for the spectators to realize Hector would ultimately overcome the youthful shepherd. What they didn't expect was for the prince to consider the fight one to the death. Paris managed to ignore the many cuts on his sides but knew he would soon faint from loss of blood; the shepherd was shocked. He did not expect the Prince to consider their match a deadly one but was too afraid and proud to call it to a halt.

Suddenly a voice erupted from the throng, "King Priam! I beg of you, stop this!"

Both Paris and Hector halted and turned to the intruder. An old man, his hair and beard near white, elbowed his way to the front of the audience.

"King, do you recognize me?" The stranger cried.

Priam's mouth dropped open, "Agelus, my servant. You live. I believe you had perished long ago."

The old man dropped to his knees and said, "I live. Forgive me for deceiving you but I had no other choice. King, I must speak with you privately. The matter is most urgent."

Priam did not hesitate and withdrew to the inner sanctum of his palace. Hecuba joined her husband alongside Cassandra, Hector and Paris.

"Why did you disappear?" Priam asked as soon as there was enough privacy. His voice revealing genuine puzzlement and relief for Agelus was once his most loyal servant. "I sent men to search for you when you failed to return from your errand."

"The boy -- the son you ordered me to kill -- I could not do what you required of me. Instead, I entrusted the child to a farmer for three days. I returned to you and told you a lie then departed in secret. I took nothing from my home for I betrayed you and deserved nothing to ease my way in this world."

Every listener was immobilized with shock save Hecuba. The aged queen slowly stood up, her entire body trembling as she gazed at Paris. "This boy ... this ... is he my son?"

"Yes, Queen, he is." Agelus answered. "He is your son."

Priam couldn't move as Hecuba slowly walked towards Paris, her shaking hands in front of her as she openly wept. "My son, my beautiful son."

Paris cringed when her fingers were close enough to touch. He was barely able to digest the revelations offered to him and his mind rebelled at the thought that the strange woman who stood in front of him could be his mother. He turned to the man whom he called father his entire life.

"I don't understand," Paris whispered, his voice filled with pain and confusion. "What are you speaking of? You are my father. My mother died at childbirth, you told me so. You showed me her grave when I was old enough to travel. I am her son; I am your son."

"No, he is not." Priam said with a heavy tone. "You are mine."

Hector shuddered, his gaze leveling on Cassandra who, only moments before, begged that he slay the shepherd boy. He studied her face and to his dismay Hector realized Cassandra knew of this shocking truth before she pleaded with him.

Why, sister? Why did you demand that I kill our brother?

Cassandra did not answer and instead left the hall noiselessly, her once-proud head now bowed under the burden of catastrophic knowledge.

---

Tyndareus smelled it in the evening's air, inexorably drifting towards him as he sat alone on the bench. The sea soothed his mind with its continuous waves, the sound lulling him into a state of bliss he hadn't felt in years.

It is finally over. Tyndareus thought to himself. No more will I have to bear the burden of the crown. Now that duty is placed on the head of another.

He heard a footstep behind him, almost noiseless and would have been totally undetectable had the assassin not been so long in years.

"Euneon, you disappoint me." Tyndareus scolded softly. "Or, perhaps, you wished to warn the old man in order for me to have a go at defending myself?"

"If only you would."

Tyndareus stood up and turned to face his executioner. "I know of the ways. The same act was performed years ago by another soldier - a soldier acting under my orders. I still remember when I sent him on his bloody errand, it was the morning after I first laid my eyes on Leda."

"The King told me as much."

Tyndareus smiled softly, "I suspected Menaláos always knew the truth of my treachery. I could never ask him, of course."

"He never called it treachery." Euneon disagreed. "He would never slander against you like that."

"No, he wouldn't." Tyndareus said. "But now that I am no longer king, no longer leader, I cannot help but think about a conversation I had with Odysseus. How strange, I disagreed with his opinions back then. I believe these few restful days convinced me to think on his terms."

"But you are at peace now?" Euneon asked, his voice flooded with genuine care.

"I am, soldier." Tyndareus answered. "What will happen to my body?"

"You will have a decent burial. The General plans to build a temple over your grave to make sure you will be favored well in the afterlife."

"But Helen will not know, will she? Menaláos will never tell her, how could he? She would never stand for it -- to be married to her father's murderer."

"No and it is the proper way of things for the queen to never be told. She must hold fast to her king, like Leda did for you."

Tyndareus closed his eyes and swallowed his tears. "I loved her, in spite of what she tried to do to my children."

"Helen still believes her mother committed suicide because of her. She doesn't know ... about Leda's attempt to ... to end her life."

"No, she doesn't." Tyndareus said. "I killed enough servants to ensure her ignorance of the matter. Euneon, let her believe her mother died of despair, not of madness. I entrust you to keep Helen innocent about the true nature of her mother's death."

"There is no one left alive who knows the truth, save myself," Euneon said. "And I will never tell. I give you my word as a Spartan."

"Then make it swift. And tell Menaláos that I am grateful he didn't use poison like so many others do."

"I will, and ... I think you'll be pleased to know, it won't be long before they have children. Your bloodline will continue."

Tyndareus shook his head. "Helen has not a drop of me in her. Her father is no mortal king, Euneon."

"Then it will live through all your other children. Never fear."

"But out of all of them I loved Helen best. She was the brightest star in my sky, Euneon."

"I believe you and thank you for taking such good care of the queen." Without warning Euneon swung his sword. He honed the weapon for hours the day before in order to make Tyndareus death painless. Tyndareus heard the sound of the sword as it whistled through the night air; the noise was no greater than a falcon's breath. Then he heard no more

---

Paris gaped at the gold cup resting in his hands. The banquet spread out in front of him was a feast not only for his stomach but also for his senses. So dazzled was the shepherd by the rich spectacle he had hard time consuming anything. With each breath servants were delivering dishes he had never seen; and his wine cup was never drained as he had his own server hovering behind him.

Then there was his new family. Suddenly from being an only child, he now had numerous brothers and sisters, and even more who had married and made new lives in far-flung lands. Hecuba kept glancing at him, asking him if the food displeased him. Paris repeated his protests, the food was excellent and the company above reproach. But with every word that fell from his lips, Paris felt more and more distant from the people who claimed to be his family.

"So, tell me son, you have been ever so mysterious about Lady Helen and what had passed in Sparta," Priam said. "Is she as beautiful as the rumors say?"

"She is the most beautiful woman in the world." Hector said simply, his voice leaving no doubt in the listeners' minds that he believed his statement to be the absolute truth.

Paris' attention was riveted to his older brother as Hector continued. "Hair of the blackest shade that falls ever so gracefully on a body carved from my deepest dreams. Helen shimmers as if she's been painted in gold, so perfect is her complexion. She brings with her a light all her own and a single flicker from her eyes can make a man forget everything, anything should the lady desire to inflict the poor creature with such affliction."

"Really?" Hecuba said. "She is truly so beautiful?"

"Helen seemed unreal, mother." Hector said. "The first time I saw her I thought I fell into my dream without closing my eyes. Achilles was fearful to touch her because he didn't want her to disappear like a nymph. Even Odysseus was at a loss when he first tried to talk to her and you know how his reputation runs when it comes to wit and words."

"And you're not enraged you lost her to Menaláos?" Priam asked. "I still cannot see how she could possibly prefer a second prince to you."

"She chose him out of duty, father." Hector answered. "Not out of her own desires did she make Menaláos her husband. She weighed the needs of her people and the army and only then did Agamémnon's poorer brother receive the bloody crown of Sparta. I am also certain her father did much to affect her decision. He heavily favored his general; that was no secret, especially among the suitors."

"Have you discovered why they call it the bloody crown?" Hecuba asked. "I never heard it being described otherwise and cannot help but wonder why it earned such a grim reputation."

"Probably because Spartans are bloody when provoked," Hector answered.

"But under Tyndareus' rule their bloodlust had been sharply curbed. However, I worry with this new king especially since he is Agamémnon's only brother." Priam said. "Agamémnon's ambitions have been growing steadily since his marriage to Clytaemnestra. I fear this Menaláos will feed on the same desires and bring trouble to our shores."

"I have spoken with Menaláos and he strikes me as the cautious type. The man is also old, father. He nears forty in a few years and his greatest concern, for right now, is making sure his wife happy with their marriage."

"So he is in love with Helen?" Priam asked.

"Without reservation, it is like blood fever with the man. I daresay Menaláos will try to get her with child as soon as possible in order to firm his position on the throne. And once he is successful in the domestic corner, he will labor hard to protect his borders. The former General of Sparta is famous for his defensive maneuvers, not his offensive ones. He likes his enemies to come to him, a weakness that would make him a terrible leader on water."

"But you would caution that I make strong alliances with Ilium nevertheless." Priam said with a knowing smile.

"I see no reason why we shouldn't reaffirm old ties and make new ones." Hector answered.

"Excellent," Hecuba said. "I shall send out invitations as soon as possible, and the first one will be to Eetion."

"The King of Thebes," Priam said. "I have been wondering what fanciful designs he has been weaving. Too long has he been silent, and it is not like him to be so quiet for so long."

"What do you think, Paris? You've been quiet throughout our discussion." Hector asked lightly.

Paris took a deep breath before answering. "A husband who is much older than his wife, and a wife who is considered the husband's greatest treasure -- a man such as he might be convinced to act against his nature because he falsely believes he needs to impress his queen. Though Menaláos might not be ambitious like his brother, he might be persuaded to perform heroic feats to keep his wife's respect. This holds doubly true if the husband knows that the only reason for his marriage is his wife's respect for her father's wishes. I suspect man in his position might be malleable to the needs of anyone who can whisper into his ear."

"For a shepherd your reasoning echoes true of palace intrigue." Hector agreed with genuine respect.

"Then it is settled." Priam said, "We will strengthen our shores with our neighbors and Hector, see to it that we know what our brother kings are doing and plan to do in the future. I'm certain you will be able to find a sympathetic ear or two within Menaláos' palace."

"I will see it done, father."

---

Menaláos had just begun the daily meeting with his advisors. The attack on Las last spring had convinced the new king that all sizeable cities situated next to the sea must be provisioned with larger garrisons in order to ensure their safety. The cost of such an ambitious plan would have been prohibitive but Menaláos suspected the advisors might acquiesce to his plans if he presented them with options or a fair semblance thereof.

His plans were also helped with the whispered and fearful rumors of Tyndareus death within his seaside refuge. Menaláos knew that more than a few believed Tyndareus was actually murdered in his sleep, and he was betting the talk would frighten everyone into supporting his idea of increasing the size of the army.

Even in his death Tyndareus aids Sparta. Menaláos grimly admitted to himself. I can only pray that I will be half as useful when I face my end.

It was the gasps that told Menaláos of his wife's approach. The King of Sparta still found it amusing that most of his men refused to directly gaze at Helen; still mindful of Tyndareus' old decree. To his surprise Helen was trailed by five handmaidens, all wrestling with armful of fabric.

"Good morning, queen." Menaláos greeted with a smile on his face. "What brings you to this martial gathering?"

Helen did not answer. Instead, she grabbed a bolt of cloth and draped it over his right shoulder. She stepped back, frowned, and then repeated the process twice with richer fabrics. And with each action the dark look on her face deepened.

"Helen?" Menaláos asked, honestly confused by his wife's truculent behavior.

"If the child has my coloring, I know what to dress the newborn with. But if the baby has your complexion I am at a loss." Helen answered, critically examining her handiwork. "I think the blue would do well for the..."

"Child?" Menaláos whispered. "You are with child?"

Helen's frown disappeared immediately and a lovely smile burst forth. "Yes, husband, I carry your heir."

"Helen!" Menaláos shouted and embraced his wife, completely lifting her off her feet. "Are you well? Is the baby well? Have you spoken..."

"Menaláos, I am pregnant; I am not suffering from an illness." Helen chided, half laughing, half scolding.

"What must be done then? There must be ... so many things ... do you require help? A nursemaid to see to your needs?"

"I have all the advice I need, Menaláos." Helen answered. "Too much if I am to tell the truth. I fear there will be too many women willing to render their idea of help in the days to come. I will probably need to borrow your army to keep the horde away when I give birth."

"And you will have as many soldiers as you need," Menaláos said with laughter in his eyes. "I swear, my beloved queen."

---

"What news from my sister?" Clytaemnestra's voice echoed in the chamber.

Agamémnon saw his aide jump a little at wife's voice. The King of Mycenae wondered, as he often did in the past, how his wife could know of certain things without being informed. Agamémnon had to admire her cunning for nothing escaped Clytaemnestra's notice for long. And he suspected much to his chagrin her private spies must be as numerous as his and far better trained.

"The messenger was sent by Menaláos. Your sister is with child," Agamémnon said. "The entire city of Sparta is planning a celebration for the heir's arrival. I wish to send them a fitting present for the babe will be Menaláos first child and my first nephew."

Clytaemnestra smiled, "That is good news. Thank you for your generous idea, husband. May I choose the gift?"

"Of course, your taste is much finer than mine." Agamémnon conceded generously.

Clytaemnestra bowed and quickly departed, her mind already choosing and dismissing ideas. She wanted Mycenae's gift to be fitting for the heir of Sparta, if the babe was born a boy. If the child was a girl, it mattered little; for the princess would surely be blessed with Helen's looks and have little problem making a powerful match when she comes of age.

Perhaps Hector will have Helen in his bloodline after all. Clytaemnestra thought with great amusement. I must discover what Penelope will be sending as Ithaca's tribute.

Agamémnon's aide asked, "Shall I make it public then? About Prince ... King Menaláos' joyful news?"

"Before night falls," Agamémnon said. "But don't be surprised if my wife has already informed everyone."

The aide surreptitiously examined Agamémnon's face. The gossip was true then; there was true fear in his king's voice when Agamémnon mentioned his wife's name. The young man wondered how it came about and who, in truth, wore the crown of Mycenae.

---

Odysseus found Penelope standing in front of their bed, marveling at it still. When he first told her the tale of how he had hewn it with his own hands from a monstrous olive branch then built the entire chamber around his personal masterpiece, she had laughed at him in disbelief and amusement. Since then he had often found her examining the furniture, determined to prove him a liar. Odysseus wondered how long it would be before his new wife realized he told the blatant truth for a change.

Penelope studied the ivory and gold inlay, recognizing the various animals so cleverly wrought into the bed's frame and posts.

"Still trying to prove me false, wife?" Odysseus asked breezily.

"Still." Penelope answered without turning to face her husband. "Whoever the craftsman was, husband, his work is marvelous to behold."

"Thank you."

Penelope shot him a look of repressed amusement and annoyance. "Why will you not tell me who made this? I wish to commission another work from the master."

"Oh, what do you wish for me to make?"

"Odysseus!" Penelope cried out in frustration. "Give me the name!"

"Just tell me what you want and I'll see what I can do."

"I want a loom of a certain size. I want to weave; I hate to stand idle even for a moment."

"Tell me what you need and I will make it." Odysseus answered. Seeing the skeptical look on his wife's face the King of Ithaca broke into a wide grin. "And by doing so prove myself to be the master whose craft you so admire."

"As you wish," Penelope said grudgingly.

"I just received news from Sparta. Helen and Menaláos will soon have a child."

Penelope threw back her head and laughed while clapping her hands in delight. "We must thank the gods soon!"

"I have already given orders to my priests to give sacrifices for the rest of the day and through the night. I suspected you might be glad of the news. And, if the gods are in a favorable mood, we also might be blessed with the same gift."

Penelope raised a questioning eyebrow and returned her attention to their bed. She could not have known Odysseus' prayers would go unanswered for nearly ten years, and then, when finally blessed with a son, to see her husband off to war that would separate Odysseus from her side for nearly twenty years.

©2003 Copyright held by the author.

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