The Firebrand

CHAPTER 17

For many days now the harbor had rung with the sound of hammers and adzes as the ship grew in the cradle where the keel had been laid, and harpers had come almost every evening to the Great Hall to sing the lay of Jason and the building of the Argo.

For weeks provisions had been loaded for the voyage while sailmakers stitched with their huge needles on the voluminous sail where it was laid out on the white sand of the beach; to dry or smoke barrels of meat, fires burned night and day in the courtyard; baskets of fruits and great jars of oil and wine, and always more and more weapons. It seemed to the women that for months now all the smiths in the kingdom had been hammering away at arrowheads of bronze, swords of bronze or iron, armor of all kinds.

Dozens of Priam's best warriors were going with Paris, not to make war but in case they encountered pirates in the crossing of the Aegean, whether the notorious plunderer Odysseus (who came sometimes to Priam's palace to sell his loot, or sometimes only to pay the toll Priam exacted of all ships northbound through the straits) or some other pirate. This expedition, laden with gifts for Agamemnon and the other Akhaian kings, was not to be plundered; the mission, or at least so Priam said, was to negotiate an honorable ransom for the Lady Hesione.

Kassandra watched the ship growing under the builders' hands, and wished passionately that she were to sail in her with Paris and the others.

On two or three days while the warriors were training in the courtyard, she borrowed one of Paris's short tunics, and, concealing herself under a helmet, practiced with them at sword and shield. Most people believed it was Paris fighting; since he seldom appeared on the practice field, she was not at once discovered. Even though she knew it was pretense, she enjoyed it immensely and for a considerable time her long-limbed skill and muscular strength kept her identity unknown.

But one day a friend of Hector's matched her and knocked her down; her short tunic flew up above her waist and Hector himself came and jerked the helmet from her head; then, angrily, wrested the sword out of her hand, turned it edgeways and beat her hard on the backside with it.

"Now get inside, Kassandra, and tend to your spinning and weaving," he snarled at her. "There is enough women's work for you to do; if I catch you masquerading out here again I will beat you bloody with my own hands."

"Let her alone, you great bully," cried Andromache, who had been watching from the sidelines; she had been fitting a crimson cushion to Hector's chariot and tacking the last bits of gold thread on it. Hector turned on her angrily.

"Did you know she was here, Andromache?"

"What if I did?" demanded Andromache rebelliously. "My own mother, and yours too, fights like a warrior!"

"It's not suitable that my sister, or my wife, be out here before the eyes of soldiers," Hector said scowling. "Get inside, and attend to your own work; and no more conniving with this wretched hoyden here!"

"I suppose you think you can beat me bloody too!" Andromache said pertly. "But you know what you shall have from me if you try!" Kassandra saw, in astonishment, the line of embarrassed crimson that crept upward in her brother's face.

Andromache's dark hair blew out around her face in the fresh wind; she was wearing a loose tunic almost the same colour as her wedding gown, and looked very pretty. Hector said at last, so stiffly that Kassandra knew that he was stifling whatever he really wanted to say as not being suitable before an outsider, even a sister, "That's as it may be, wife; nevertheless, it is more seemly for you to go the women's quarters and mind your loom; there is plenty of women's work to be done, and I would rather you do it, than come out here learning Kassandra's ways. Still, if it makes you feel better, I will not beat her this time. As for you, Kassandra, get inside and attend to your own affairs, or I will tell Father and perhaps he can put it in such a way that you will mind his words." She knew that the sulkiness on her face reached him, for he said, a little more kindly, "Come, little sister, do you think I would be out here wearing myself into exhaustion with shield and spear if I could stay cool and comfortable inside the house? Battle may look good to you when it is only playing with spears and arrows with your friends and brothers, but look." He bared his arm, rolling up the woollen sleeve of his tunic past the bright embroidered edgework and showed her a long red seam, still oozing at the center. "It still pains me when I move my arm; when there are real wounds to be given and received, war does not look so exciting!"

Kassandra looked at the wound marring her brother's smooth and muscular body, and felt a curious sickening tightness under her diaphragm; she flinched and remembered cutting the throat of the tribesman who would have raped her. She almost wanted to tell Hector about it - he was a warrior and would certainly understand. Then she looked into his eyes. There, perhaps, she misjudged him; he was not altogether without imagination; but he would never, she thought, see beyond the fact that she was a-girl.

"Be glad, little sister, that it was only I who saw you stripped like that," he said, not unkindly. "For if you were revealed as a woman on the battlefield… I have seen woman warriors ravished and not one man protest. If a woman refuses such protection as is lawful for wives and sisters, there is no other protection for her." He pulled down his helmet and strode away, leaving the women staring after him, Kassandra angry and knowing she was supposed be ashamed, Andromache suppressing giggles. After a moment the giggles surfaced.

"Oh, he was so angry! Kassandra, I would have been terrified if he had been that angry with me!" She drew her white shawl around her shoulders in the fresh wind. "Come, let's get out of the way. He's right, you know; if any other man had seen you—" she drew down her mouth into a grimace, and said with an exaggerated shudder,"something terrible would certainly have happened."

Seeing no alternative, Kassandra followed her, and Andromache linked her arm through her sister-in-law's.

Kassandra, for the first time in days, became aware of the prophetic darkness filling her up inside.

While she had been on the field with a weapon she had not been conscious of the thing which had made her cry out on the night of the wedding. Now, through that dark water she saw Andromache, and all round her something else, overlaid with a cold and frightening fire of grief and terror, but enough joy before the sorrow that it made her lay her hand urgently on Andromache's arm and say softly, "You are with child?"

Andromache smiled; no, thought Kassandra, she glowed. "You think so? I was not sure yet; I thought perhaps I would ask the

Queen how I could be sure. Your mother has been so kind to me, Kassandra; my own mother never understood or approved of me, because I was soft and a coward and I did not want to be a warrior; but Hecuba loves me, and I think she will be happy if it is so."

"I am sure of that, at least," Kassandra said, and then because she knew Andromache was about to ask 'How do you know?" she fumbled for words she could use instead of trying to explain about the dark waters and the terrible crown of fire. "It seemed for a moment," she said,"that I could see you with Hector's son in your arms."

Andromache's smile was radiant; and Kassandra was relieved that for once she had given pleasure instead of fear with her unwanted gift.

In the days following she did not again take up her weapons, but went out often, unrebuked, to see how the ship was progressing. It grew daily on the great cradle on the sand, and almost before Andromache's pregnancy was visible to unskilled eyes, it was ready for launching, and a white bull was sacrificed for the moment when it slid easily down the ramp toward the water.

At that moment Hector, standing between his wife and Kassandra, said, "You who prophesy unasked all the time, what do you see for this ship?"

Kassandra said in a low voice, "I see nothing. And perhaps that is the best omen of all." She could see the ship returning in a golden glow like the face of some God, and nothing more. "But I think it lucky that you are not sailing, Hector."

"So be it, then," said Hector. Paris came to bid them goodbye, clasping Hector's hand warmly, and embracing Kassandra with a smile. He kissed his mother and leaped on board the ship, and his family stood together, watching it drift out of the harbor, the great sail bellying out with the wind. Paris stood at the steering oar at the back, straight and slender, his face alight with the westering sun. Kassandra shook off her mother's arm and walked away through the cheering crowd; she went straight to where a tall woman stood with her eyes fixed on the sail as it dwindled to the size of a toy.

"Oenone," she said, recognizing her from the moment when, with Paris, she had held the girl as if in her own arms, "what are you doing here? Why did you not come to bid him farewell with the rest of his kin?"

"I never knew when first I loved him that he was a prince." said the girl. Her voice was as lovely as she was, light and musical. "How could a common girl like me come up to the King and the Queen when they were saying goodbye to their son?"

Kassandra put her arm around Oenone and said gently, "You must come and stay at the palace. You are his wife and the mother of his child, so they will love you as they do Paris himself." And if they do not, she thought to herself, they can just behave as if they do, for the honor of the family. To think he went away without bidding her goodbye!

Oenone's face was flooded with tears. She clutched Kassandra's arm. "They say you are a prophetess, that you can see the future," she said, weeping. "Tell me that he will come back! Tell me that he will come back to me!"

"Oh, he will come back," said Kassandra.

He will come back. But not to you.

She was confused at the depth of her own emotions. She said, "Let me speak to my mother about you," and went, with Andromache, to Hecuba. Andromache said in gentle reproach, "Oh, Kassandra, how can you? A peasant girl - to bring her to the palace?"

"She's not; she's as well born as either of us," Kassandra said. "You've only to look at her hands to see that. Her father is a priest of the River God, Scamander."

She repeated this argument to Hecuba, whose first impulse had been to say: 'Of course, if she is carrying Paris's child—and how can you be so sure of that, my dear?—we must see that she is well provided for and not in want. But to bring her to the palace?"

Nevertheless when she met Oenone she was charmed at once by her beauty, and brought her to a suite of rooms high up in the palace, light and airy and looking out on the ocean. They were empty, and smelled of mice, but Hecuba said, "No one has used these rooms since Priam's mother lived here; we will have workmen in and have them redecorated for you, my dear, if you can manage with them this way for a night or two."

Oenone's eyes were large and almost disbelieving. "You are so good to me - they are much too fine for me—"

"Don't be foolish," Hecuba said brusquely. "For my son's wife - and soon his son—there's nothing too fine, believe me. We'll have workmen from Crete—there are workmen here painting frescoes in some houses in the city, and painting vases and oil jars, I'll send a message to them tomorrow."

She was as good as her word, and within a day or two the Cretans came to plaster the rooms and paint festival-scenes on the walls, great white bulls and the leaping bull-dancers of Crete, in realistic colours. Oenone was delighted with the pretty rooms, and pleased in a childlike way when Hecuba sent women to wait on her. "You must not over-exert yourself, or my grandson may suffer," Hecuba said bluntly when Oenone tried inarticulately to thank her.

Andromache was kind to Oenone too, though in a careless way, and at first Kassandra spent a great deal of time with them, confused by her own feelings. Andromache now belonged to Hector, and Oenone to Paris; she had no close friends and though every day or so Priam spoke of the necessity of finding her a husband, she was not sure that was what she wanted, or what she would say if they asked her—which they probably would not.

She did not understand why Oenone's presence should affect her this way; she supposed it was because she had shared Paris's emotions (but if Paris felt this way about Oenone, why had he been willing to leave her?) towards the girl when he made her his wife. She felt a great desire to caress the other woman, and comfort her, while at the same time she drew away from her, self-conscious even of the kind of careless embrace customary between girls.

Confused and frightened, she began to avoid Oenone and this meant that she avoided Andromache too; for the two young wives now spent a good deal of time together, talking of their coming babes, and weaving baby-clothes; a pastime which appealed to Kassandra not at all. Her sister Polyxena, never a friend, was not yet married although Priam was haggling for the best possible alliance for her and she thought and spoke of little else.

Kassandra fancied that when Paris returned she might be less obsessed with Oenone; but she had no idea when that might be. Alone under the stars on the high roof of the palace, she sent out her thoughts seeking her twin, and achieved no more than fresh sea breezes, and a blinding view of the deep darkness of the sea, so clear that she could see the pebbles on the sea bottom.

One day, choosing a time when Priam was in a good humour, she went to him and carefully emulating Polyxena's kittenish behaviour, asked softly, "Please tell me, Father, how far Paris is going, and how long a journey is it till he will be back?"

Priam smiled indulgently, and said, "Look, my dear. Here we are on the shores of the straits. Ten days' sail this way, southward, and there is a cluster of islands ruled by the Akhaians. If he avoids shipwreck on reefs here—" he sketched a coastline, "he can sail southward to Crete, or northwesterly to the mainland of the Athenians and the Mykenaeans. If he has fair winds and no shipbreaking storms, he could return before the summer's end; but he will be trading and perhaps staying as a guest with one or more of the Akhaian kings… as they call themselves. They are newcomers to this country; some of them have been there no more than their father's lifetimes. Their cities are new; ours is ancient. There was another Troy here before my forefathers built our city, you know, daughter."

"Really?" She made her voice soft and admiring like Polyxena's, and he smiled and told her of the ancient Cretan city which once had risen not more than a day's sail south along the coast. "In this city," he said, "were great storehouses of wine and oil, and they think this may have been why the city burned when great Poseidon Earthshaker made the sea rise and the ground tremble. For a day and a night there was a great darkness over the whole world, as far south as Egypt; and the beautiful island Kallistos fell into the sea, drowning the temple of Serpent Mother and leaving the temples of Zeus the Thunderer and Apollo Sunlord untouched. That is why there is now less worship, in the civilized lands, of the Serpent Mother."

"But how do we know it is the Gods who have shaken the lands?" Kassandra asked. "Have they sent messengers to tell us so?"

"We do not know," Priam said, "but what else could it be? If it is not the Gods, there would be nothing but Chaos. Poseidon is one of the greatest Gods here in Troy, and we petition him to keep the earth solid beneath our feet."

"May he long do so," Kassandra murmured fervently, and since she saw that her father's attention had wandered to his wine cup, murmured a courteous request to go; her father nodded permission and she went out into the courtyard, with much to think about. If indeed it had been the great earthquake (which she had heard about during her childhood - it had been several years before Priam's birth) then perhaps this was sufficient reason that the worship of Earth Mother had been discredited, except among the tribeswomen.

The courtyard was a-bustle; it was a brilliant day. Workmen were moving about; the people painting friezes high up in the rooms assigned to Oenone for Paris were grinding new pigments and mixing them with oil, tally-men were counting jars of oil brought in as tithes on one of the ships lying out in the harbor; some of the soldiers were practicing at arms, and far out beyond the city, she could see a cloud of dust which was probably Hector exercising the horses of his new chariot. She wandered among them like a ghost unseen. It is as if I were a sorceress and bad made myself invisible, she thought, and wondered if she could make herself so in truth, and if it would make any difference if she did.

For no reason at all her eyes fell idly on a young man who was dutifully marking tallies with a notched stick and pressing wax on the sealing ropes of great jars, oil or wine, pressing the seal that indicated these had been taken for the King's household.

He seemed a bit restless under her scrutiny, turning his eyes away, and Kassandra, blushing - she had been taught it was unmaidenly to stare at young men - looked away. Then her eyes were drawn back; the young man seemed to glow, his eyes grew very strange, almost vacant; then they focused and he drew upright. He seemed to grow taller, looming over her; yes, it was she, Kassandra, whom he fixed with his eyes, and in a flash she recognized what God possessed him, for she was looking again into the face of Apollo Sunlord.

His voice reverberated as thunder, so that she wondered, with a scrap of wandering consciousness, how the other workers could go on quietly with their work.

Kassandra, daughter of Priam, have you forgotten me?

She whispered under her breath, "Never, Lord."

Have you forgotten that I have set my hand upon you and called you for my own?

Again she whispered, "Never."

Your place is in my Temple; come, I bid you.

"I will come," she said, half aloud, gazing on the luminous form. Then the overseer strode through the yard, and the young man shimmered, wavered in the sun which blurred Kassandra's eyes…

The vision was gone. For a moment Kassandra wondered if she had indeed been bidden to the Sunlord's Temple? Should she fetch her cloak and her serpent, climb up to the High Place of the Gods at once? She hesitated - if she had actually dreamed it and it had never happened, what would she say in the Temple to the priests and priestesses? Surely there were penalties for blasphemy of that kind…

No. She was Priam's daughter, a princess of Troy, and she had been made a priestess of the Great Mother. She might be mistaken, but it was certainly no blasphemy nor anything to be ignored. Silently she went into the palace, under her breath whispering, "If I have not been called, Sunlord, send me a sign."

On the great stairway, she encountered Hecuba, wrapped in a workaday smock, frown lines drawn between her brows making her look older.

"You are idle, daughter," Hecuba rebuked her. "If you cannot find any reason to keep yourself occupied, I will myself find you some task; henceforth you will not leave the women's quarters on any morning until your share of spinning and weaving is done. For shame, to leave your work to your sister. Was it only laziness you learned among the women of my tribe?"

"I am not idle!" Kassandra replied angrily. Was this the sign for which she had asked? 'I have been sent for by the God, and I am required in his Temple."

Hecuba frowned at her, narrowing her eyes.

"Kassandra, the Gods choose their priestesses from among simple folk; they do not call to a princess of Troy."

"Do you think me less worthy than another?" Kassandra flared out. "I have known since I was a child that Apollo Sunlord wanted me for his own, and now he has summoned me!"

"Oh, Kassandra!" Hecuba sighed. "Why do you talk such nonsense?" but Kassandra was no longer listening to her. She turned away and ran down the stairs and out through the great gates, hurrying up the hill toward Apollo's Temple.