Helen of Sparta

by Amalia Carosella

  “Let them forget the sight of you, for a time, and perhaps their ardor will cool.”

  “Then I am to be locked away again, after all,” I said, forcing a smile I did not feel. But nor was it bitterness that weighed so heavily in my heart. No wonder Demophon wore such an expression, if this was what he had decided. I did not blame him for it, and in truth, I was worn thin with exhaustion and worry. My nightmares were neither restful nor reassuring.

  “Not wholly,” Demophon promised, passing me a wine cup. “Though you might consider wrapping your hair and covering your face if you wish to leave your rooms. The way the men talk—I would not ask it of you if I did not have reason, Helen. Were it not for Phaedra, I might have pretended my own claim to you if the worst comes to pass, but as it stands . . .”

  He did not need to say it. We both knew too well. If the people believed he had fallen in love with me, or I with him, we would both be in danger of exile. “Do the guards suffer from the same affliction?”

  Demophon shook his head. “Father set the bull dancers upon the walls, the men he rescued from the Minotaur in Crete. They would sooner die than betray their king in such a way. We need not question their loyalty.”

  “Then I will limit my wanderings to the wall and remain in the king’s rooms, otherwise,” I said, staring into my cup. “It will hardly last forever, either way.”

  And so another month passed, and I spent my days at the loom, the burning city weaving itself into the warp no matter how many times I tore it free. I tried to sleep, but even with Ariston’s potions, the dreams came.

  I call for Theseus to save me, to protect me, to rescue me, but he does not come. The prince takes me through the market of Troy, laughing and eager to please me. I stare at an emerald, laid out for my inspection. My fingers caress the stone, thinking of the crown Theseus made for me.

  “Do you like it?” The prince’s fingers lace through mine, just tight enough to keep me from being able to pull free.

  “It’s lovely.” I drop my hand and step back. “But I have no need of it.”

  The prince laughs. “With you it is always about need. Do you never wish for something just to have it, to show the world that it is yours?”

  “There is only one thing that I wish for,” I say, thinking of Theseus.

  “And what I wish for,” the prince says, turning my face up to his, “is to have you willing as my wife. Think of the freedom it would give you. Menelaus barely allowed you to be seen, he was so jealous. But I will shower you with gold and fine cloth and jewels and share you with the world.”

  “And all the world will see how splendid you are, to have found yourself such a wife,” I mock him. “I have no wish to be one of your things, to be put on display.”

  His fingers squeeze mine painfully. “I’m offering you a better life.”

  “You’re offering me death.”

  The prince jerks me into his arms, his heat flooding through my body. “There is nothing cold or lifeless about this.”

  He kisses me, and the city bursts into flame.

  My own screams woke me, and when the servant girl opened the door, I waved her away.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

  Korina came to the bed anyway, pouring me wine. “Another draft, my queen?”

  “No.” A glance toward the balcony told me dawn was not long off. I had not meant to fall asleep at all, only to doze for a moment. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “Perhaps just a walk.”

  She helped me dress, and I wrapped myself in one of Theseus’s cloaks. The smell of him still clung to the fur. Korina followed me dutifully up the stone stairs.

  The guard at the top knew me well and offered a hand to steady me as I climbed the final steps. So early in the morning, I had not expected the number of men on the wall who greeted me. Demophon stood not far off, staring at the northwest road by which Theseus and Pirithous had left. He glanced at me, and from the circles beneath his eyes, I did not think he had slept much more than I did.

  “My lady.” He bowed.

  “You are not often on the wall,” I said. Surely he would have sent for me if it were Theseus. “Has some news come?”

  He met my gaze, his mouth a thin line, and I knew it was not good. “A runner came late with news of an army marching from the Isthmus road.”

  “Is that not the way Theseus meant to travel?”

  A jerk of his chin made space for me at the stonework beside him, crowded by broad-shouldered men. The sky was deep purple still with night, and darkness fought against false dawn. Demophon pointed to a smudge on the horizon.

  “How long?” I asked.

  “An army is slow, weighted by armor, swords, and shields, but they will be here before midday if they do not change direction.”

  My stomach sank. “Who leads them?”

  “The runner did not know for certain.” Demophon glanced at me again and dropped his voice. “If it is Mycenae, I will not give them more proof by asking. Why should I expect the brothers Atrides if I have nothing they might seek?”

  “Wise.”

  “At least they will not glean much from the fields. Any attack on Athens means a siege, but if we cannot plant come spring, it will be a bad year for everyone.”

  “Perhaps they do not mean to march on Athens?”

  “We’ll find out by midmorning. I cannot bring those below behind the palace walls before I’m sure. There is no reason why anyone should want to attack us, even with Father gone.”

  “But for me,” I said softly.

  Demophon nodded, stiff, his gaze fastened on the threat below. “Even rumor does not travel so swiftly without help.”

  “Who?”

  He shook his head. “The youngest of the nobles are too enamored of you, even if they had suspicions. The oldest are wise enough not to wish for war on any count, and of those who know the truth for certain, none would benefit from a siege, and all are too loyal to Father, regardless.”

  Politics and court maneuvers. Had I only opened the queen’s megaron when Theseus suggested it, I would have known more. Wives often spoke more freely among themselves than their husbands might wish. A second chance was unlikely now. If Demophon doubted who marched, I did not. They came for me.

  “Have you woken Aethra?”

  “Perhaps you might do me that service?” Demophon frowned at the smudge. “Better, I think, if you are not seen on the walls if any scouts are sent.”

  I wrapped the cloak more tightly around my shoulders, suddenly chilled. In the dark, we would not see a single man on foot, but with the torches lit, he would see us. “I’ll be in Theseus’s rooms.”

  Demophon did not even look up when I left him. I called to Korina, and though I wanted nothing more than to run to Aethra, I forced myself to walk.

  Meryet, princess of Egypt, need not worry about an army that would break against the Rock, from Mycenae or elsewhere. Departing from that role now would only cause more trouble for Demophon. If someone had betrayed us, we might still deny it. As long as I remained out of sight, they had no proof. And if they did see me, even Pollux would look twice under the right circumstances.

  I had stopped painting my face in the Egyptian style long ago, taking up the Athenian fashions instead. No longer. The people of Athens needed a reminder before any messengers arrived looking for a Spartan princess.

  “Wake Aethra and tell her I have need of her, if she would be so kind as to attend me. Ask her to bring her supplies from my wedding feast. I will want to look my best to reassure our people.”

  Korina bowed and ran off down the hall as I slipped into Theseus’s room.

  Alone at last, I sagged against the door. The Rock had never fallen, I reminded myself. There was no safer city in all of Achaea. If Demophon could only hold them off until spring, Theseus would return.

  I had to believe it.

>   CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Spartans!” Acamas gasped, catching himself on the door frame of the king’s rooms before he fell over. “Castor and Pollux lead them!”

  “And their demands?” Aethra poured him a cup of watered wine and beckoned him inside. She had brought me bread and cold meats along with the paints, and made me eat though my stomach churned.

  I shut the door, unsure of my own feelings. Castor and Pollux were sure to be more reasonable, but they would not be turned away until they were satisfied. If keeping my secret meant their deaths, what then? I did not know if I could let Demophon hurt my brothers. Or allow my brothers to harm Demophon.

  Acamas collapsed onto a stool. “They wish to see the queen. They say if we do not allow it peaceably, they will lay siege. Demophon does not think it is an idle threat.”

  “After they’ve come all this way with an army, of course it isn’t,” Aethra said. “What does Demophon intend?”

  “I’m to bring Helen to the wall, in all her finery. He hopes that will do.”

  They both looked at me, Aethra’s sharp eyes taking in my appearance. She had dusted my skin with ocher and painted my eyes with kohl and the blue malachite.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “From a distance it should be easy to fool them for a time. But if I speak to them for too long, Pollux is bound to know me, and if I reply in Egyptian, feigning ignorance, those inside the walls will know I lie.”

  “Then we will let Demophon answer for you as much as possible.” Aethra nodded to Acamas. “Run ahead and tell your brother. It is not unheard of for men to order their women not to speak. It should not be questioned.”

  Acamas wasted no time and left his cup half-full on the table. I barely had time to open the door for him on his way out.

  “We’ll wait.” Aethra poured me a cup of wine, and I noticed she did not add any water at all. “The queen should not come running at the least demand of a strange army.”

  My hands shook when I took it from her. It was Theseus’s cup, embossed with the depiction of his battle against the Minotaur. “They are my brothers.”

  “They are not Meryet’s brothers,” she said, pressing my hands to the cup when my fingers slipped. “You are a princess of Egypt, now. Remember that.”

  “They would not have come without a purpose, Aethra, even if they are not certain I am Meryet. If I can speak to Pollux, tell him I am happy here, perhaps he will see reason.”

  “Demophon has decided how we will begin. If seeing you on the wall is not enough, there is time to discuss our other options. And one way or another, Theseus will return with the spring.”

  The warmth of the wine steadied my hands, but my mind found no comfort in it. I held the cup out for more, and Aethra refilled it without comment. By the time I had finished the second cup, she judged our delay effective and walked me to the wall.

  “Keep your chin held high, my dear, and glare at them as if they were nothing but desert sand.” She smiled and squeezed my hand. “It’s been nearly two years since you came to us, you know. Even without the paint on your face, you’ve changed.”

  I took a deep breath and climbed the stone stairs, Aethra following a few steps behind. A guard announced my approach, and Demophon met me at the top, his expression impassive. He guided me forward. From the height of the wall, it was easy to look down my nose at those assembled below. I stared diffidently at the army beyond the outer walls first, most of the men armored in leather, hide shields strapped to their backs. Sunlight flashed off bronze swords and spear tips, and those wealthy enough for bronze armor stood behind impatient horses in their chariots. I could not see their faces from the palace, but I had no doubt I would recognize most of them. After a moment to survey the others, I deigned to glance at the men waiting at the palace gate.

  Pollux met Theseus in height now, and Castor was not far behind him. They stood in full armor, flashing bronze beside matching white horses. Another man remained mounted, flying a flag of truce. Seeing my brothers again sent a stab of longing through my heart, but I could not let them know it, and if I looked too long, I feared it would show.

  “Queen Meryet of Athens, princess of Egypt,” Demophon said.

  Pollux studied me, and I affected a sniff of irritation, dismissing him with a lift of my chin.

  “If she is as you say, then you will have no reason not to invite us in as your guests,” Pollux called. “We have no interest in anything that is not ours.”

  My jaw tightened at his phrasing. It sounded too much like something Menelaus would say. I swept my gaze over the army again, looking for the telltale red of his hair. Boar’s tusk, leather, and bronze helmets covered their heads, obscuring my view.

  “Athens does not turn away its friends, so long as they come in peace, but in winter I cannot entertain all your men.” Demophon nodded to the guards manning the main gate in order to prove his words.

  Pollux frowned, still staring at me. I met his gaze, hoping he saw only irritation and not my worry.

  Castor smiled. “We would not ask it of you. Give my brother and me beds for the night, and in the morning we will march on, once we are satisfied, of course.”

  “Of course,” Demophon said, his tone light, though he spoke through gritted teeth.

  He turned from them, and I took my cue, giving my brothers one more contemptuous look before leaving them behind.

  “Let us hope that Athena is with us tonight,” Demophon murmured in my ear. “If you would not mind returning to your rooms, I will see our guests welcomed with all due ceremony. Once the formalities are observed, they can hardly make off with you, whether they recognize you or not.”

  “If they catch us in the lie, hospitality will no longer bind them,” I said. In my hurry, I nearly tripped down the steps, but Demophon caught my elbow before I lost my balance. “Let me speak with them privately.”

  He shook his head. “As a last resort only, my lady. The more people who know, the greater the risk. A siege now will hurt no one, as long as it ends before spring. A siege in full summer will see the fields razed and a lean winter.”

  “Theseus will be back long before then.”

  “If Mycenae comes, I am to send you to Egypt by my father’s orders. Whether he is returned or not.”

  “Egypt!” That time I did lose my balance, but fortunately we had already made it to the ground, and Acamas steadied me. I had not even realized he was there.

  Demophon hushed me, glancing to see if anyone heard. The guards had remained on the wall, and the gate had only just begun to open, the heavy panels groaning.

  “Acamas, see the queen to her rooms. Quickly.”

  We had just made it into the shadows of the main porch when I heard Pollux’s greeting. “I had hoped to give the queen my thanks for her tolerance.”

  “My lady will join us for the meal, but she does not care to socialize much in my father’s absence.”

  I slowed my step, ignoring Acamas’s hiss. They would not see me here, not yet.

  “We had heard that King Theseus met trouble on his journey.” My blood ran cold at Castor’s words. “On the way here, we were told he passed through to the Underworld at Eleusis, months ago.”

  “A delay only, I’m sure.” Demophon spoke with more confidence than I might have had in his place. “We expect Theseus and Pirithous with the first days of spring.”

  “My lady,” Acamas whispered. “Please. You cannot be seen.”

  I picked up my skirts and let him pull me away, but the news made it difficult for me to breathe. Just a few more weeks, I told myself as Acamas pushed open the door to Theseus’s room.

  But why would Theseus want me sent to Egypt?

  Aethra fussed over my appearance, touching up every line of kohl and tucking every strand of my hair into its place until I lost patience and waved her away.

  “The
re is nothing more to do, Aethra, except smudge what you’ve already fixed.”

  She scowled at me, but stepped back. “I’m not sure you should wear that circlet. It brings out your eyes.”

  “No matter what I wear, my eyes will not be well enough hidden if Pollux is seated beside me at the table.”

  “He won’t be. You’ll be at Demophon’s right, and Acamas will sit on your other side. Pollux and Castor will have to crane around Demophon to see you at all. I’ve already seen to it. Theseus would never allow guests in his hall for the sole purpose of ogling his wife, and under the circumstances, I have no intention of making it easy for them to do so.”

  I sighed, caressing the emerald in its golden setting. I tried not to think of the Trojan marketplace of my dream. “If Demophon hadn’t let them in, Pollux would have seen the lie, and we’d be preparing for a war.”

  “That brother of yours is too sly by half.”

  “Not my brother.” I raised the circlet and let Aethra settle it on my head. “I’m Meryet of Egypt.”

  “Just so.” Aethra smiled.

  A persistent knock brought me to my feet. I smoothed my skirt. Aethra and I had debated for some time over the gown, but in the end she had decided the greater temptation of baring my painted breasts to the young nobles of Athens would be too much, and we had both dressed conservatively.

  “That will be Acamas, no doubt,” Aethra said, waiting for my nod before she opened the door.

  Menestheus stood in the corridor, his dark eyes darting about the room before stopping on me. He bowed. “My queen, I beg the honor of your company. It would not do for you to be escorted by a child.”

  Aethra sniffed. “I’m not certain it’s any greater honor for her to be brought in on your arm, Menestheus, but if that is Demophon’s wish, I suppose it is too late now.”

  The man stiffened, but surely I only imagined the curl of his lip as he glanced at Aethra. I forced myself to smile at him, though taking his arm made my skin crawl. I hadn’t been able to look at him without thinking of Menelaus’s words in my dream. But perhaps this was for the best. If trouble came, it would be good to know where Menestheus’s loyalties lay, and Theseus would have the proof of it, one way or the other.