Helen Had a Sister

by Penelope Haines

I made a ‘pfffffd’ noise of contempt, at the clumsy compliment.

  “No,” he said, reading my thought correctly. “I’m not trying to flatter you.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I am lucky enough to share your bed, that’s true, and it’s something I value greatly. But others will point out I’ve won back the kingdom I lost to Agamemnon, without any fighting, simply by bedding his wife. My adversary is dead, again without effort on my part. The heir apparent has decamped voluntarily. Any dream I had of regaining my kingdom, of living in peace with my subjects, of a happy domestic life – these have all been achieved by the simple master stroke of sleeping with you.”

  I looked at him steadily, and his eyes dropped in embarrassment. I had heard this before from Electra and wondered whether it was the view the whole world took of my behaviour.

  He raised his head and looked back at me.

  “Nestra, I swear that when we met and loved, this was not a plan of mine. I wasn’t trying to use you. But you must also see our lust has been very convenient for me.” I was surprised at the bitterness in his tone.

  I stood, and moved away from him.

  “Do you regret it then?” I tried to keep the hurt from my voice, but I couldn’t blind myself to the facts he was laying before me. A desolation I hadn’t anticipated filled me. Had I been so stupid I couldn’t see the only reason a man like Aegisthus would desire me was for the political gain I could bring?

  He rose as well and came close to me. I stiffened, expecting his embrace. Instead he stood in front of me, not touching, but urgent in his manner. “Nestra, I swear by all I hold sacred, I have loved you from the day we met. You are my home, my family and my lover. But there are others saying what I have just laid out to you. Others are judging me in ways that offend my honour and dignity. We have had five years together to learn about each other. I trust you to know and respect me for what I am, as I respect you. I trust you, and I ask you to trust me. It is impossible to stop these comments being made. You asked me what I wanted, and I said I had everything I had ever wanted or worked for. I have more than I ever dreamt possible, thanks to you.”

  I looked full at him and tried to read deceit and deception in his eyes. I’m not good at interpreting men, I reminded myself. Yet all I saw was Aegisthus, for better or worse, the man I loved. If he had deceived me, or used me, I had lent myself willingly to his goals. Perhaps he had lent himself to mine. His presence in Mycenae had been useful since Myrto’s death. His assistance and support had allowed me to fulfil my vow and take revenge on Agamemnon. Orestes had loved him. Who was I to judge his motives when my own were so complicated? I had used him equally, in every sense of the word.

  That thought made me smile wryly and, watching my face, he caught the change of expression. I saw the mirroring leap of excitement in his eyes as he pulled me towards him.

  “You are my woman, Nestra, and I love you. I want your love as well. Let nothing else change that, whatever else gets thrown at us. You are my strength, as I hope I am yours.”

  He kissed me so brutally hard I felt his cheekbone bruise my face as his lips crushed mine. I moaned beneath his fingers, not so much from pain, as from an excess of emotion. I felt him give a stifled laugh of triumph as he scooped me up, dumped me on the bed and proceeded to demonstrate the strength of his devotion.

  Had we resolved the problems? No, of course we hadn’t. But he was part of my life, as I was part of his.

  By the end of the night we’d proved we didn’t intend to change that.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY EIGHT

  “WE HAVE A PROBLEM,” HE SAID.

  I glanced at him and he gave me a significant look, one that said he needed to speak to me alone.

  I stood up and stretched. I had been taking a turn at the loom with the maids. It never failed to amaze me how much cloth the household used. In spite of five household slaves whose sole function was to keep the shuttles moving, we never had enough material. I saw it as my duty to lend a hand occasionally when I had the time. There was something soothing about the rhythmic backwards and forwards slap of the shuttle through the threads.

  I gave the slaves a smile as I eased my back. “Good work,” I said encouragingly.

  They smiled shyly back at me, probably relieved I was going to leave them to it.

  I walked out into the gardens with Aegisthus. The afternoon sun was warm, and the air rang with the noise of cicadas in the trees.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  “Electra,” he said shortly.

  I looked at him. Aegisthus was rarely rattled, his ability to absorb and deflect stress one of his most comfortable characteristics. Today he was tight-lipped and pinch-nosed with anger. I could feel the fury rolling off him.

  I sank down onto the stone bench at the end of the path. “Tell me,” I said.

  “One of the messengers came to me. Electra had given him a message to take to Sparta, urging their army to come to her aid, invade Mycenae and rescue her. She intends to depose you and me and avenge her father.” Aegisthus was breathing hard.

  “To Sparta? You mean to Menelaus?”

  When the Greek army returned from Troy Menelaus had peacefully resumed the rule of Sparta. Rather more surprisingly he had brought Helen back with him. Their marriage reconciled, she was once again Queen of Sparta. My sister had a cat-like ability to survive any catastrophe. We had received no word from either of them, although the news of Agamemnon’s death must have reached them.

  I pulled my mind back to Aegisthus.

  “If it hadn’t been a messenger we’ve known and dealt with for years, the message might have got through. Not every man is so honest and loyal,” he said.

  “Or else he weighed up the possible outcomes and decided which had the most chance of success,” I said cynically. “I assume you’ve rewarded him well?”

  “Very well. He’s a much wealthier man today than he was yesterday. Still, this is treason, Nestra. Electra is deliberately setting out to destroy Mycenae’s independence, to usurp your throne and allow a foreign kingdom to invade her own. She has to be stopped now – and permanently. You can’t keep a viper like this around as a pet. One way or another she has to be crushed.”

  “I know.” I thought unhappily of what we might have to do to stop her. She was still my daughter. I didn’t like the thought of having to imprison her, let alone execute her for treason, but left unconstrained, she was dangerous.

  We had sent out messengers to the royal houses of Greece telling them Electra was ready for marriage but had received no interest from prospective suitors. I had hoped that Penelope’s son, Telemachus, might be interested. He must be of an age with Electra, and I had made a point of requesting the messenger to visit Ithaca. He reported back that Telemachus was too busy dealing with his own problems to be interested in marriage. His father Odysseus had survived Troy but hadn’t been seen since the fleet sailed for home. There had been no word of what had happened to him, and Penelope and Telemachus were in limbo. There was great pressure on Penelope to marry again, but she was refusing all offers. In such a climate, Telemachus sent his regrets, but he couldn’t contemplate marriage himself.

  I thought back to when it was my turn for wooing and the number of applicants who had applied for my hand. The number of Helen’s suitors, of course, could have populated a small village. Poor Electra was paying the price of belonging to a family with an unfortunate matrimonial record. Even if that hadn’t been an issue, the war with Troy had depleted the resources. Few kingdoms had enough to court foreign princesses. They were too busy trying to rebuild their shattered economies. Wooing royalty took a substantial investment.

  “If only we could get her married,” I said sadly. “I hoped a husband would solve the problem, particularly if he gave her children to keep her occupied. What else can we do? If we send her into exile she would be an ever-present danger, stirring up trouble wherever she goes. Surely some prince will want her eventually.”


  Aegisthus sat beside me. A leaf fluttered down into his lap from the wisteria shading the bower. He picked it up and began shredding it. “I don’t think we have the luxury of time. The bitch has to be dealt with now.”

  I nodded my head glumly. He was right. Whatever he thought, Aegisthus had never before criticised my children, let alone used a term like ‘bitch’ to refer to Electra. Perhaps he knew it was a line no lover could ever safely cross. It said a lot that he was now prepared to. I rested my head against his shoulder.

  “Do you have any bright ideas?”

  He continued demolishing the leaf. “Not ones that you’d like,” he said eventually.

  “Anything’s got to be better than nothing,” I said. “I can’t think clearly, I’m so shaken up with what you’ve told me.”

  He dropped the leaf and turned to me. “Nestra, whenever we’ve talked about Electra’s marriage there’s been an underlying assumption that we would only consider royal suitors for her hand. That hasn’t worked, so what if we spread the net wider?”

  “You mean a noble?” I considered the option. “Well, it’s a possibility, I suppose, but it could disturb the balance of power in Mycenae and cause all sorts of upheaval. Given Electra’s attitudes and ambitions, we’d be handing a very powerful weapon to any one of the noble families. Once she was married we wouldn’t be able to control her. I think it would be dangerous.”

  Aegisthus shook what remained of the unfortunate leaf onto the ground. “I didn’t mean a noble family,” he said shortly.

  “Pardon?” I looked at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”

  He was gazing across the garden towards the far horizon. “Nobles aren’t the only men available in Mycenae,” he said harshly. “There are merchants, tradesmen, farmers, warriors, slaves.”

  I think my mouth may have opened I was so startled.

  “You can’t be serious? Marry a princess of Mycenae to a peasant? That’s unthinkable.” In spite of myself I was shocked.

  Aegisthus wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I didn’t mean that we should marry her to a slave. I’m not lost to all sense, but there are decent and successful men who aren’t nobles, Nestra. The one I’m thinking of could probably buy and sell most of our noble families. He’s a merchant who owns a fleet of trading ships that work round the Mediterranean and bring Mycenae its wealth. He’s a self-made man, and no prince or warrior, but what of it? Electra would have a good, comfortable life with a man who could provide her with luxury. I believe him to be decent and honourable, and in his house she’d have no outlet for her treachery or political ambition. Marriage to an ordinary citizen would automatically stop her being a beacon to any ambitious kingling who wants to threaten us.”

  I tried to swallow my outrage. Electra was heir to two royal lines – Mycenae and Sparta. How could I force this marriage on her? It would be so demeaning. I could only imagine her reaction to the loss of standing she would suffer. Any children she had would automatically be commoners. I hadn’t realised I was so proud of my royal blood, but there it was. It had been bred into me, and I had no doubt Electra would feel the same.

  “She’d hate it,” I said. “I couldn’t make her do it. She’d hate her husband for lowering her so. It would be a nightmare.”

  “Then what’s your solution?” he asked. “I don’t imagine you want her locked up in a cell for the rest of her life, and the other alternative is to execute her for treason. We can’t leave her free to cause trouble, so, what bright ideas have you got?”

  I was silenced. In my heart I knew Aegisthus was right. He might not like Electra; she’d never given him any reason to, but he wasn’t petty or malicious. If I weren’t the girl’s mother, would I see things more clearly? I sighed. Years of ruling a great city state and I still couldn’t manage one unruly daughter.

  “Who is he?” My throat was tight and it made my words harsh. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I’m not saying I agree, you understand, but what’s the man’s name?”

  Aegisthus smiled. “You know him well. Eumenides.”

  “Ahh.” I did indeed know him. As Aegisthus said, he was a young man of good reputation and standing in Mycenae. He was also one of our wealthiest citizens, known for his generosity, giving to charity and supporting the local infirmary. We had met on many occasions, and I had always found him civil, intelligent and supportive.

  I tried to think clearly and analytically. All those lessons in logic we had learned at school had to be useful for something. Although I thought of Eumenides as being very young, I realised he was probably thirty or thereabouts. He might seem young to me, but to sixteen-year-old Electra he was likely to come across as terribly old. That might not be a bad thing if it gave him some authority over her. I knew nothing to his discredit. Quite the contrary; he had a fine reputation as an honest, hard-working man. If you ignored the issue of his class, it would be a reasonable match. It would also keep Electra close to home where Aegisthus and I could keep a discreet eye on any trouble she tried to cause.

  Reluctantly I nodded.

  “Have you spoken to Eumenides about such a possibility?”

  “Only obliquely,” he replied. “I couldn’t proceed without your permission. The match has advantages for him, of course. He allies himself with a royal patron and his children will have royal blood and a position in society far above any he could achieve purely by being a trader.”

  “And what for her?” I asked.

  “She gets to keep her life,” said Aegisthus brutally. “And she’ll prefer being the lady of a household rather than kept as a prisoner at the bottom of a mineshaft for the rest of her life.”

  He stood up and turned to me. The sun was behind him, which made it difficult for me to look up into his face, but I absorbed the intensity in his tone.

  “Electra may not like this solution, Nestra, but she was attempting high treason against her sovereign state. This isn’t a little girl’s naughtiness that can be dealt with by a smacking. Under different circumstances it could well have cost her her life. If she feels she is being punished, then I’ve no qualms about that. She needs to be punished severely for her treachery, and if her disparagement hurts her pride, so much the better. She’s been arrogant, self-centred and childishly stupid for as long as I’ve known her. I very much hope this shocks her into good behaviour.”

  I couldn’t deny what he was saying was correct, even if I didn’t like it.

  “Do you think Eumenides will be kind to her?” I asked.

  “I imagine he’ll spoil her rotten,” he said. “Make no mistake, Nestra. If she accepts Eumenides and this marriage with a positive attitude, she’ll be in clover for the rest of her life. Yes, I think she needs some chastisement, but you know I wouldn’t be deliberately cruel. We aren’t marrying her to a brute.”

  The details were agreed between the men. Orestes was absent, and in any case still too young to be Electra’s formal guardian. Aegisthus was her nearest male relative, so I left the contract to him.

  I summoned my daughter to my chamber, making sure Chryseis and Io were present in case she resorted to violence.

  She entered with her usual sulky slouch.

  “I have news for you,” I said cheerfully, and congratulated her on the betrothal contracted for her.

  I have seen a wine bladder collapse when stabbed. As if her legs no longer held her, Electra sagged the same way and collapsed onto the footstool.

  I saw her try to speak, and fail.

  She ran a tongue over her lips. “You can’t,” she croaked. “You can’t do this to me.”

  “It’s a good match,” I said. I was determined to present everything that was positive about this wedding. “Eumenides is a lovely man, he has wealth, intelligence and a fine reputation. He’ll make you a kind and wise husband.”

  “He’s a peasant,” Electra spat at me. “You can’t wed a princess to a peasant, you stupid woman. You’re just trying to ruin me.”

  �
��He’s not a peasant at all,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “He’s a successful trader and a good man. I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”

  “I won’t do it,” she declared, suddenly getting a rush of courage. She stood and faced me. I could see the fear and panic in her eyes and pitied her, but I had sworn to stay firm.

  “You will do it, Electra,” I said coldly. “It is a good match, and you will find him a kind man to be married to. No, don’t,” I added quickly as I saw her rage building, “don’t tell me what you will or won’t do. Whether you want to believe it or not, Aegisthus and I have your best interests at heart.”

  This time Electra actually spat at me. She missed and spattered the tiles.

  I stepped back. Io rushed over with a cloth and wiped the globule off the floor.

  “Be very careful, Electra,” I warned. “We know of your attempted treachery with Sparta. If you weren’t my daughter and a princess of Mycenae, you would have been executed for your crime. Fortunately for you, I have the power to exercise clemency and condemn you to a life of imprisonment. That can still be your fate if you refuse this match. You won’t see sunlight again.”

  I saw her pale. “That’s a lie,” she said. “Who accuses me of treachery?”

  She hadn’t expected the messenger to betray her. I thought about that.

  “What did you bribe the messenger with?” I asked. “What idiocy made you attempt such treason and think you could get away with it? The messenger came straight to Aegisthus.”

  She gave a frightened little moan. “He couldn’t have,” she whispered.

  “What did you promise him, Electra?” I asked again.

  “I said I’d marry him,” she blurted out. “I said he could be my husband when Mycenae was free.”

  My jaw dropped. “You promised a messenger you’d marry him? Just so he could deliver a message?” I gave a startled little laugh. “Well, at least the disparity in station and class between yourself and Eumenides obviously won’t be a problem for you. You’ve already crossed that line, and Eumenides is several strata higher on the social scale than a messenger boy.”