The Firebrand

CHAPTER 1

Kassandra spoke to no one, either in the Sunlord's house or elsewhere, of Helen or Paris; but she should have known that such news would never be kept silent; before three days had elapsed, Helen's story, and Kassandra's prophecy, were on every tongue in Troy.

There were even those who, seeing Helen's beauty, believed, or said they believed, that the Akhaian Goddess of Love and Beauty, Aphrodite, had come herself to the city. Kassandra, if asked about this, said only that Helen was indeed very beautiful—beautiful enough to turn the head of any mortal man—and that in her own country she was believed to have been fathered by an Immortal.

She did not know or care whether anyone believed this; her own worry was now for Oenone. She hoped that the girl had simply taken her child and returned to the Temple of Scamander; but she did not believe it. At the back of her mind was the haunting fear that Oenone had somehow chosen to sacrifice herself and her son to the River God. If Aphrodite was indeed a Goddess of Love, why had she not chosen to guard the love between Oenone and Paris?

She wondered about this Goddess Aphrodite, who put such temptation into the hearts of men - and women too; it was not only that Paris had chosen and could not resist Helen, but Helen too, though Queen of Sparta by Mother-right, had chosen to give herself to Paris—after having chosen her husband, as few women in the Akhaian world could do. If I were Queen, she thought, I should choose to be like Imandra and reign alone, taking no consort.

The Goddesses of Troy and of Colchis were sensible Goddesses, who acknowledged the primacy of the Earth and of Motherhood; but this Goddess who disrupted all things for a whim they called Love—no, this was no Goddess she could ever consent to serve. And then one night she dreamed she stood in a strange Temple before the Akhaian Goddess who looked very much like the Spartan Queen.

So you have sworn you will not serve me, Kassandra of Troy? Yet you have given your life to the service of the Immortals—

Kassandra half knew that she was dreaming; she looked up toward the Goddess and saw that she was even more beautiful than the Spartan Helen. And for a moment it seemed that in Aphrodite's face was the half forgotten beauty of the vision of Apollo Sunlord: could she resist the call of that love?

"I am sworn to serve the Mother of All," she said. "You are not she, and you have no part in her worship; for you are denying her, I think."

Faraway laughter sounded like a chiming of bells.

You too will serve me in the end, Priam's daughter. I have more power than you, and more than the ordinary Goddesses of your cities. All women here shall worship me, and you too.

Kassandra cried out 'No!" and woke with a start, to find her room empty and only the bright face of the sun at her window, like a mockery of the beauty she had seen.

How strange these Akhaians were; first they chose to worship a goddess of marriage who would punish any woman for straying outside it; and then they chose a goddess of passionate love, who would tempt a woman to forsake the vows she had sworn. It was as if the Akhaians both feared and desired faithlessness in their wives—or perhaps they only wished an excuse for abandoning their own wives.

Perhaps it was better that a child belong only to his mother. Maybe marriage and fatherhood were not good for men; a woman must care about the welfare of the child she had carried in her body, but siring children came too easily to men; they were pawns to be used for their father's advantage. Phyllida had the best bargain after all; a God could have as many wives as he wished and need not cast off the old when he chose the new.

The thought reminded Kassandra that she had. duties in the Temple; and while she had sworn never to serve Aphrodite, she had sworn to serve the Sunlord. She should go down and join the other priestesses and priests for the sunrise greeting.

They were already gathered there, from the venerable elder healer-priests to the youngest novices; she was almost the last to take her place, and Charis gave her a patient, reproving glance. The chief priest regarded them all, and said, "In the name of the Sunlord, I ask you to welcome a newcomer among us; he served the shrine on Delos, the Sunlord's own isle. Give welcome to our brother, who is called Khryse."

He was well-named Khryse, golden. He was unusually tall; almost as tall as Hector, although not so muscular or well-built. His fine features were covered all over with a fine dusting of freckles; his hair shone all the fairer because he was sun-bronzed. His smile was radiant, showing white well-shaped teeth, and his eyes a bright sea-blue.

When he spoke his voice was strong and vibrant, with resonant echoes which strongly reminded Kassandra of the times she had heard the voice of the God. Well has he chosen a God to serve, she thought. The Sunlord might well be jealous of such a mortal…

Charis asked, "Whose duty is it today to receive and tally the offerings?"

Kassandra, recalled to her duty, started and said, "It is mine."

"Then you will take our brother to the court and show him how they are bestowed."

Kassandra lowered her eyes shyly, almost as if she felt Khryse might read her thoughts, which, it seemed to her, were too bold.

Khryse said, "I thank you for this welcome; but if I might first ask a favour of you, Lady—"

"Certainly you may ask," said Kassandra sharply when it became obvious that Charis was not going to answer, "but I can promise nothing till I know what it is you wish."

He raised his eyes so that he spoke to all of them.

"I would ask you to give shelter here to my daughter, who is motherless," he said, and beckoned forth a little girl who was hiding among the shrubbery at the edge of the court.

At first Kassandra thought she was about eleven years old. She wore a ragged and outgrown tunic which came hardly below her knees, and her hair, the same astonishing golden colour as her father's, hung in a tangled matted mass halfway to her waist.

"I have been travelling for a long time, and it is hard for a man alone to care properly for a woman child," Khryse said, following Kassandra's eyes. "May she live here in the Sunlord's house?"

"Certainly," Charis said, "but she is too young to be chosen as one of Apollo's maidens; time enough when she is grown to choose that path for herself if she wishes. But for now - Kassandra, will you take the child away and be certain she is properly cared for?"

"Then I shall be twice grateful to the Lady Kassandra," said

Khryse, bowing and smiling at her. Trying not to look at him again, she stretched her hand to the girl.

"Come with me, dear; are you hungry?"

"Yes; but Father said I was not to ask for anything."

"Well, you shall be fed; no one goes hungry in the God's house," Kassandra said, and leading the girl to her own room, she called a servant and asked her to bring bread and wine and a basket of fruit.

"First you must have a bath and some fresh clothes," she said, for the girl's garment was filthy as well as ragged. With the help of one of the governesses she bathed the girl. As she was soaping the girl's body, she realized the child was not nearly as young as she looked; her breasts were already well-formed, and there was a tangle of golden hair at her crotch. Washed clean of the dirt of the roads, she had her father's beauty, and Kassandra, asking her name, was not surprised to hear the answer: 'My mother named me Helike at birth; but father has always called me Chryseis."

Golden. "The name suits you well," Kassandra said, "especially if your hair were not so tangled."

"I suppose it will have to be cut off," Chryseis said.

"Oh, no, that would be a shame," Kassandra exclaimed. "It is far too lovely for that." She took a comb and carefully teased out the worst of the tangles; two or three of them indeed were beyond unravelling and she had to cut them. Brushed till it was smooth and glowing, the shining hair curled over the girl's shoulders. When the girl was dressed in the white novice's robe, with a woven girdle of silk, one of Kassandra's own, tied about her waist, Chryseis touched it with awed fingers.

"Now you look worthy to be one of the maidens of the Sun-lord," Kassandra said. "Lord Apollo will be pleased with you as he would not be with a dirty child."

The girl still looked half starved; her hands trembled as she attacked the bread and grapes, as if she had eaten nothing for days, though Kassandra could see that she was trying to restrain herself and show good manners. She thanked Kassandra with tears in her eyes.

"While we were travelling, sometimes Father was fed at the shrines," she said, "but he did not want strange men to see me." Then lest she should seem to criticize her father she added, "He saved something for me whenever he could."

Against her will Kassandra was touched.

"If the governesses give leave you may sleep in my room and I will look after you."

Chryseis smiled shyly. "And will I have duties in the Temple too?"

"Of course; no one is idle in the God's house," Kassandra said, "but until we find what you are skilled to do, we will give you such tasks as are suitable for your age." She suggested to the governess, "Take her to Phyllida and let her help to look after the baby."

It was still early in the day when she returned to the court where Charis and Khryse were waiting for her. The old priestess was helping him to tally the offerings left in the Temple court during the night, simple offerings left from simple piety by citizens who had no special petitions to ask. They were making marks on tally-sticks: one mark for a jar of oil or wine, another for a tray of flat cakes, yet another for the pair of pigeons in a woven-reed cage. She told them what arrangements she had made for the child.

"That was sensible," said Charis,"she'll come to no harm rocking the baby, and it will free Phyllida to return to her own duties."

"I cannot tell you my gratitude," Khryse said. "It is all but impossible for a man to care for a girl child; if she had been a boy I might have managed it. When she was very small, it was simpler; now she is all but grown I must watch her night and day. Among the Sunlord's virgins I need not fear for her."

"We will certainly guard her maidenhood for you," said Charis, "but is that so important just now? I thought she was only about ten or eleven years old."

"So did I," Kassandra said, "but when I bathed her I saw she was older than I thought."

Khryse considered.

"Her mother died ten years ago," he said, "and I am sure she was not three years old. Four months ago womanhood came on her, and I did not even know what to say to a girl. It was then I decided I must leave my wandering life and settle somewhere so that she could be properly cared for. On the road I could not even keep her fed, and she was too pretty to let her go out as a beggar."

"Poor motherless child," Kassandra said. "I will care for her as if she were my own."

"You have no children of your own, Lady?"

"No," Kassandra said. "I am a virgin of Apollo."

She felt herself blushing at the look he gave her and said quickly, "They are beginning to bring in offerings and to consult the shrine; I must go and be ready to speak with them."

The first man had brought an offering of a jar of good wine; he asked, "Priestess, I wish to ask the God how shall I get my sister well married; my father is dead and I have been away from my village for many years serving in my king's army."

Kassandra had been asked similar questions many times; she went into the shrine and dutifully repeated the question. She did not believe it was important enough for the God to answer; nevertheless she waited several minutes in case the God had something to say. Then she returned to the waiting man and said:

"Go to your father's oldest friend and ask for his advice out of friendship for your father; and forget not to give him a generous gift."

The man's face brightened.

"I am grateful to the God for his advice," he said, and Kassandra nodded to him courteously, holding herself back by force from saying If you had used what wit the God saw fit to give you, you would have saved yourself the trouble of coming here; but since any sensible person could have given you such an answer, we might as well have a gift for it.

Later when Khryse asked her, "How do you know what to answer? I find it hard to believe a God would trouble himself with such matters," she told him that the priests had worked out proper answers to the commonest questions.

"But never forget to be silent for a few moments, in case the God has another answer to be given. Even the most foolish questions - from our point of view—the God sometimes sees fit to answer," she warned him.

After a little, another man came carrying a great basket of excellent melons and asked, "What shall I plant in my south field this year?"

"Has there been fire or flood or any great change on your land?"

"No, Lady."

She went into the shrine, sitting for a moment before the great statue of the Sunlord, remembering how the first time she saw it as a child she had thought it a living man. When the God did not speak to her she returned and said: 'Plant the crop you planted there three years ago."

This answer could do no possible harm; if he had been rotating his crops as the headmen of most villages now advised, it would not conflict with their advice, and if he had not, it would make things no worse. As he thanked her she felt the common exasperation; this was the safe answer for any farmer in any year, and she felt he should have known it without asking; but they would all enjoy the melons, anyway.

The morning went slowly, with only one question which gave her a moment's thought; a man brought a fine kid as an offering, and said that his wife had just borne him a fine son.

"And you wish to give thanks to the Sunlord?"

The man shifted his feet uneasily, like a guilty child.

"Well, not exactly," he muttered. "I wish to know if this child is mine, or has my wife been unfaithful to me?"

This was the question Kassandra always most dreaded; her year among the Amazons had taught her that a man's suspicion of a woman usually meant that he did not feel himself worthy of a woman's regard.

Yet she accepted the offering calmly and went into the shrine; sometimes this question was actually answered, apparently at random: If you are not certain, expose the child at once. But there was no answer, so she gave the suitable answer for such occasions: 'If you can trust your wife in other ways, there is no reason to doubt her in this."

The man looked enormously relieved, and Kassandra sighed and told him, "Go home, now, and thank the Goddess for your son, and forget not to make apology to your wife for doubting her without reason."

"I will, lady," he promised, and Kassandra, seeing that there were no other worshippers waiting consultation, turned to say to Khryse, "At this hour we should now close the shrine, and rest until the sun begins to decline; it is the custom to take a little bread and fruit before we return to see anyone who comes."

He thanked her and added, "The lady Charis told me you are the second daughter of King Priam and of his queen. You are nobly born, and as beautiful as Aphrodite - how is it that you serve here in the shrine when every prince and nobleman on this coast and southward to Crete must have been seeking you in marriage?"

"Oh, not so many as that," she said, laughing nervously. "In my case, the Sunlord called me to his service when I was younger than your daughter."

He looked skeptical. "He called you? How?"

"You are a priest," she said. "Surely he has spoken to you."

"I have had no such fortune, Lady," he said. "I think the Immortals speak only to the great. My father - he was a poor man - pledged me to the God's service when my elder brother was spared from the fever which raged in Mykenae a score of years ago. He thought it a fair bargain; my brother was a warrior, and I, he said, fit for nothing."

"That was not right," Kassandra said vehemently. "A son is not a slave."

"Oh, I was willing enough," Khryse said. "I had no talent for becoming a warrior."

Kassandra laughed a little. "Strange; surely you are stronger than I, and I was a warrior for several years among the Amazons."

"I have heard of the maiden warriors," he said, "and I have heard also that they kill their lovers and their boy children."

"Not so," she said, "but men dwell apart from women there; male children are sent to their fathers as soon as they are weaned from the breast."

"And had you a lover when you dwelt among them, beautiful Amazon?"

"No," she said softly. "As I told you, I am sworn as a virgin to the Sunlord."

"It seems a pity," Khryse said,"that so beautiful a lady should grow old unloved."

"You need not pity me," Kassandra said indignantly. "I am well content with no lover."

"That seems to me the pity of it," Khryse said. "You are a princess, and beautiful, and you are kind too—so you showed yourself to my daughter - yet you live alone here and give yourself to these wretched petitioners and serve here as any low-born maiden might do—"

Abruptly he pulled her close to him and kissed her; startled, her hands tried to push him away, but he held her so tightly she could not escape. Her mouth was surprised at the warmth of his lips.

"I mean you no dishonor," he whispered. "I would be your lover—or your husband if you would have me."

She pulled away frantically and ran from the room; flying up the stairs as if pursued by demons, her heart pounding and the sound of her own blood beating in her ears. In Phyllida's room she found Chryseis rocking the baby and singing to him in a small thin voice. Phyllida was sleeping, but she sat up as Kassandra burst into the room.

Kassandra had been ready to pour out the whole story; but looking at Chryseis, she thought: If I complain of him they will send him away; and then this child will be again at the mercy of the chances of the road.

So she said only, "My head aches from the sun; Phyllida, will you exchange duties with me this afternoon, and take the offerings in the shrine, if I care for the baby? I can send someone to fetch you when he needs to be fed."

Phyllida agreed gladly, saying she was weary of staying indoors with the child, and it was really time he should be weaned anyhow. When she had gone Kassandra put the baby to play in the sunshine, and sat down to think about what had happened to her.

She had panicked foolishly, she was sure; no priest of Apollo would have raped her in the God's shrine.

Surely he had meant no real harm; she had felt no such revulsion as against the tribesman who had tried to ravish her when she rode with the Amazon band. If she had not run away what would he have said or done? She would not have wanted to kill him; but would he have pushed it that far?

She did not really want to know; she liked Khryse, and felt no real anger, only a sense of helplessness. This was not for her. She felt within herself the surge of dark waters, and knew this was not what the Goddess willed for her, either.