The Hittite - Ben Bova [76]
Hector almost smiled. “The gods will do as they wish, Hittite. As usual.”
Those were the last words I heard from Hector, prince of Troy.
If Hector was calm, Helen was in a frenzy. She burst into the little sitting room that my escorts brought me to, her eyes red and puffy. Apet lingered at the doorway, again in her black Death’s robe.
“What does Odysseos want to tell me?” Helen fairly shouted. “Can he prevent tomorrow’s fight?”
Her golden hair was disheveled, she wore a plain shift belted at the waist. It was obvious she had been crying. Yet still she was so beautiful that it took a conscious effort of will not to reach out to her and try to comfort her.
“Nothing can prevent tomorrow’s fight, my lady,” I said. “Or, rather, no one will take a step to prevent it.”
She sank onto the sofa against the little chamber’s far wall. “No. It’s ordained by the Fates. Hector will die tomorrow. It’s foretold. Troy is doomed. I’m doomed.” She bowed her head and began to sob softly.
Still wondering where Paris was, I knelt on one knee before her. “My lady, Odysseos wants me to tell you how to survive.”
Helen looked at me, her soft cheeks runneled by tears. “How can I survive if he dies?” she demanded. “Why should I survive? I’m the cause of his death!”
Apet hurried to her side. “Not so, my dear one. Hector is doomed, truly, but it’s not your fault. It’s his destiny and there’s nothing anyone can do to avoid it.”
Helen shook her golden-tressed head and broke into more sobs.
Kneeling at her feet, I told her, “My lord Odysseos instructed me to tell you that if the worst happens, if the Achaians break into Troy, you are to flee to the temple of Aphrodite and take sanctuary there. He will seek you there, in the temple of Aphrodite.”
Helen’s sobbing eased. “Odysseos will seek me?”
“So he told me. He will protect you while the city is being sacked.”
Her face went cold. “And then return me to Menalaos.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“I’d rather die.”
“No!” I urged. “You must live.”
“Not as Menaloas’ wife. He’d probably kill me, after he’s had his fill of beating me, raping me, humiliating me in front of his kinsmen.”
Apet said, “Fly to Egypt, my pet! You’ll be safe in the Land of the Two Kingdoms.”
Egypt? I was stunned. The old woman must be insane. Egypt was a thousand leagues distant. Farther.
Helen echoed my thoughts. “How can we get to Egypt? How can we get away from Troy when the city falls? What good is anything if he’s killed?”
She had lost all hope. And suddenly I felt pity for beautiful Helen. She had nothing to look forward to if Troy fell; nothing but pain and humiliation and ultimately death. Hector had been her real hope, her one chance for survival. If he died . . .
But it was more than that, I realized. She loved Hector. More than her girlish infatuation with Paris. She truly loved Hector. She was terrified that he would be killed by Achilles. That frightened her more than her own fate at the hands of Menalaos.
I found myself wondering what love truly is. How can one person be willing to die so that another could live? With a shock of surprise, I found myself envying Hector.
But such thoughts were not for me. I was a soldier; she was a queen, and a princess of Troy. Slowly I got to my feet. “My lady, that is Odysseos’ message. If the Achaians enter the city, fly to the temple of Aphrodite. Not even the barbarians would despoil the temple of so powerful a goddess. He will find you there and protect you.”
Helen nodded bleakly. “And then turn me over to Menalaos.”
I spread my hands. “I have nothing to say about that, my lady.” Yet I wished that I did.
Helen breathed a long, shuddering sigh. Then she stood up and said to me, “Thank you, Lukka, for bringing me Odysseos’ message. Now you must return to your master and give him my thanks for offering me his protection.”
“It’s better than nothing,” Apet said, in a half-whisper.
“Is it?