The Hittite - Ben Bova [57]
Thus we left Sparta and headed for Troy, while the gods and goddesses atop Olympos watched and took sides for Helen and against her. Grim Ares, god of war, smiled at the thought of the blood that would be spilled over her. Athene, ever her enemy, began to plot her downfall.
5
Apet fell silent at last. For long moments I stared at her lean, withered face while the ever-constant wind from the sea swept across the Achaian camp along the beach.
In the dying embers of the campfire the aged Egyptian woman looked like a statue carved out of old, dried-out wood. The moon had set, but the skies were spangled with thousands of bright glimmering stars.
“So she came to Troy willingly with Paris, or Alexandros, or what ever he calls himself,” I muttered.
“Willingly, aye,” said Apet, her voice low and heavy with memories. “She feared for her life in Sparta, feared that if Menalaos sired a son he would murder her and install the bastard’s mother as his new queen.”
I nodded with understanding. Helen chose the path that offered her safety. Did she actually love Paris, or did she flee with the young prince of Troy to find safety for herself ? Both, I supposed. Women seldom do anything for one reason alone, I told myself.
“The Spartan nobility welcomed her cautiously,” Apet continued. “Queen Hecuba was very gracious. Paris was her favorite son, and he could do no wrong in her eyes.”
“And Priam, the king?”
Apet let out a sigh. “He was kind to her and ordered a royal wedding for her. Only the Princess Cassandra dared to say openly that Helen would bring disaster to Troy.”
“What of Hector and the other princes?”
“Oh, they expected Menalaos to demand his wife back. They thought that perhaps Menalaos would enlist the aid of his brother, Agamemnon. None of them dreamed that all the Achaian kings and princes would band together to make war on Troy.”
How could they have foreseen that? I asked myself.
“It was the old pact that Tyndareos had made all of Helen’s suitors swear to,” Apet said. “Agamamenon demanded that all of them come to his brother’s aid. It had been Odysseos’ idea to keep the peace among the Achaian lords. But now Agamemnon used it to make war on Troy.”
“So that he could wipe out Troy,” I said, “and end its command of the entry to the Sea of Black Waters.”
Apet shrugged. “What ever their reasons, the Achaians sailed against Troy and devastated the lands of Ilios.”
I looked up at the starry sky. Almost, I felt the eyes of the gods upon us.
“Tomorrow the war begins again,” I said, starting to get to my feet. “I’d better get some sleep.”
“But you have only heard part of Helen’s story,” Apet said to me, holding out a lean, emaciated hand to keep me from standing.
“Part of her story?”
“There is more,” she said. “The real tragedy of her life was yet to unfold.”
“What do you mean?” I demanded. “Isn’t this war tragedy enough? Thousands of Achaian warriors assailing the walls of the city? Men dying on that worn-bare plain every day? What more tragedy could there be?”
“More, Hittite,” said Apet. “More. For Helen, the ultimate tragedy.”
Despite my awareness of the battle that would begin in a few short hours, I sat down on the sand again and listened as Apet unfolded the rest of Helen’s tale.
6
So the barbarians brought their black boats to these shores— Apet renewed her tale— ravaging coastal villages and even striking deeper inland. At last they camped here on the beach by the plain of Ilios and besieged Troy itself. Prince Hector led the Trojan troops into battle on the plain, day after day. More than once the Achaians drove his men to the city’s gates, but Troy’s high strong walls always held the barbarians at bay.
The fateful morning came only a few days ago.
I accompanied Helen as she climbed up to the battlements of manytowered Troy to take her place with the other royal women atop the Scaean Gate. Outside the gate, on the plain, the Trojan warriors were assembling in their chariots, with their footmen behind them. From their camp along the beach the