by Diana Gainer
"Why, great Ptáha, why, Father Amún, why have you allowed this to happen to Mízriya?" Tusirát prayed, at her little household shrine. "Why have you turned your back on us, your children?"
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As Ainyáh left Tíruns, starving refugees continued to make their way to the Argive port, in a steady stream. Following T'érsite's advice, Diwoméde put the people to work, as they came. The low-born began adding storerooms to the hilltop fortress, buttressing the clay-brick walls, and adding stepped battlements to protect the archers stationed on the heights. The work was hard and the men grumbled. But, with bread in their bellies and watered wine to wash it down, they did as they were told. In the meantime, they waited for the gods' anger to dissipate so that they could return to their old homes once more.
High-born men came to the citadel as well, driven from the other southern kingdoms by rebellious farmers and shepherds. Or the nobles simply abandoned their parched hills in the interior of the country, for the wealthier fortress on the shore of the Inner Sea. Such men of rank were trained warriors and would take no direction from such a low-born commoner as T'érsite. For them, Diwoméde had ships constructed by the carpenters who also flocked to the seaside. Out into the Inner Sea, the qasiléyu sent these varied, homeless soldiers. If their ships contained too little in their holds to buy what such armed men valued, they made piratical raids on the hostile lands of the P'ilístas, in northern Ak'áyan nations, or they assaulted small cities and smaller villages on the islands owing allegiance to Assúwan kings. Wheat was worth more than the finest gold or tin, in those days of scarcity. In the same way, barley was more highly valued than horses, women, or even bronze. If grain could be had in any country facing the Inner Sea, Argo's fleet discovered a way to obtain it and bring it back to Tíruns. When hostile kingdoms proved unable to provide enough grain for Argo, then bronze could be taken from them, to buy from the merchants of northerly Qoyotíya or Mízriya's ports in the distant south.
"You see what a good choice I made," Dáuniya whispered in Diwoméde's ear, as he rested his bare body upon hers, sweating despite the cold of winter. "I picked the one man who could sail to prosperity through a sea of disasters."
Diwoméde nuzzled at her neck, still breathing hard from the exertion of a moment earlier. "Ai, captives always say things like that," he grunted.
"Not all captives," Dáuniya argued cheerfully. "In Tróya, the 'Elléniyan queen used to say, 'It is the end of the world, the end of the world.'" She spoke in an undertone, a rhythmic, choked sound that raised the hairs on the back of the qasiléyu's neck. "Meneláwo's wife had us all frightened," Dáuniya went on, more solemnly. "People said that she was a priestess and they thought her every word must be a prophecy. She used to sit and spin from morning to night, whispering strange things about bulls and bees and doves. It was as if she spoke for the goddess who spins the fate of men and nations. But even when they took the spindle away from her, her hands continued to move, turning a thread that could not be seen. The servants began to say that she was a mainád and that her capture meant that the world would soon come to an end, just as she whispered constantly. You can imagine how we felt when prince Paqúr told his sister about the 'Elléniya's words during their love-making. We were sure that Tróya would fall and we would all be taken captive again."
"What did Kashánda say to Paqúr, when he told her about the prophecy?" Diwoméde asked. He moved to his concubine's side and spread fleeces over himself and her, cold now that they were lying still.
"She made the sign of the Evil Eye and said that he should give the woman back to Meneláwo. But he would not listen to her."
"Maybe the 'Elléniyan woman was right," Diwoméde whispered, awed by the thought, and he felt sickness rising in his throat. "The drought may never end…"
But Dáuniya only took him tightly in her arms and smiled. "No, no, beloved, it is not the end of the world but the beginning. I have not had the woman's bleeding for two months now. We are going to have a child. Diwiyána would not put a new life in my womb if the world was going to end, now, would she!" She pressed her full lips against Diwoméde's, and moaned happily at a growing pressure against her thigh.
