The Firebrand

CHAPTER 6

Deathly silence hungover Troy all the next day; and over the Akhaian camp. At mid-afternoon Kassandra went down to the city wall; she could see into the camp and as far as the beach full of ships from the high edge of the wall of the Sunlord's house, but she could not hear anything or tell what was happening.

Andromache was there with Hector and others of Priam's household. They welcomed Kassandra and made room for her where she could see what was happening. "This would be the best time to attack them and burn the rest of their ships," Andromache suggested, but at Hector's fierce look she drew back.

"I was joking, my love; I know you are incapable of breaking a truce," she said.

"'They did," Paris reminded them. "If I had been killed and we were giving them a truce for my burial, do you really think they would not storm us at the very height of the feast? Odysseus and Agamemnon are probably urging them right now to make an attack when we least expect it."

"The camp looks almost deserted," Kassandra said. "What are they doing?"

"Who knows?" Paris said. "Who cares?"

"I know," Hector said. "The priests are laying out Patroklos's body for burial or burning; Akhilles is mourning and weeping; Agamemnon and Menelaus are plotting some way to break the truce; Odysseus is trying to keep them from fighting loudly enough for us to hear; the Myrmidons are setting up for the Games tomorrow - and the rest of the army is getting drunk."

"How do you know that, Father?" asked Astyanax.

Hector said, laughing, "It's what we would be doing if the shoe were on the other foot."

At this moment a young messenger, in the dress of a novice priest of Apollo, came up inside the wall.

"Your pardon, nobles; a message for the Princess Kassandra," he said, and Kassandra frowned. Had one of the serpents bitten someone, or one of the children fallen into a fever? She could think of no other reason she should be summoned. Her temple duties for the day, never very pressing, had been performed and she had been given leave to absent herself.

"I am here," she said, "what is wanted?"

"Lady, guests have arrived at the Sunlord's house; they came by the mountains to avoid the Akhaian blockade, and they seek you. They say the matter is of very great urgency and cannot be delayed."

Puzzled, Kassandra bowed to her father and withdrew. As she climbed to the temple, she wondered who it might be, and why they should seek her out. She went into the room where visitors were entertained; in the darkness of the room after the sun the strangers were only a half dozen indistinct forms.

One among them rose and came toward her, opening her arms.

"It rejoices my heart to see you, child," she said, and Kassandra, her eyes adapting to the dimness of the room, looked into the face of the Amazon Penthesilea.

Kassandra fell into her enthusiastic embrace.

"Oh, how glad I am to see you all! When I came from Colchis there was no sign of you, and I believed you were all dead!" she cried.

"Yes, I heard you had been seeking us; but we had gone to the Islands, seeking help and perhaps a new home country," Penthesilea said. "We found it not, so we returned, and I had no way to send word to you."

"But what are you doing here? How many of you are here?"

"I brought with me all of us who remain and who have not chosen to go and live in cities under the rule of men. We have come to defend Troy against her enemies," Penthesilea said. "Priam told me once, many years ago, that before he would send to women to help in the defense of his city, Troy would indeed be fallen on evil times. Perhaps by now I know better than he how evil is the case in which Troy finds itself."

"I do not know if my father would agree with you," Kassandra said. "The army is rejoicing because Hector has just killed the second most dangerous fighter in the Akhaian army."

"Aye; they told me in the Sunlord's house," Penthesilea said. "But I do not think Troy any the nearer safety because Patroklos lies dead."

"Kinswoman," Kassandra said gravely, "Troy will fall, but not to the hand of any man. Do you think then that we can contend with the hand of a God?"

Penthesilea smiled in her old way and said, "It is not the destruction of the walls which we need fear, but the destruction of our defenses; Troy could be defeated and sacked, and if it is the will of the powers above that this should happen—" She broke off and held out her arms to Kassandra, who went into them like the child she had been.

"My poor child, how long have you been alone with this? Is there no one in Troy, soldier or king or priest, to trust your Sight?" she asked, holding her like a child against her meager old breast. "None of your kinsmen or brothers? Not even your father?"

"They least of all," Kassandra murmured. "It angers them when I even speak doom for Troy. They do not want to hear. And perhaps, if I can offer no way to avert this fate, but can only say it must come… perhaps they are right not to dwell on it."

"But to make you suffer all this alone—" Penthesilea began, then broke off and sighed.

"But I should present myself with my warriors to Priam, and greet your mother, my sister."

"I will take you to the palace that he may welcome you," said Kassandra.

The old Amazon chuckled. "He will not welcome me, my darling, and the more desperately he needs the righting skills of my women, the less welcome I will be," she said. "The best I can hope for is that he will not refuse us; perhaps I have waited late enough that he will know how badly he is in need of even a few good warriors. Mine number twenty-four."

"You know as well as I that Troy cannot afford to spurn any help from any source whatever, even had you brought an army of Kentaurs," Kassandra said.

Penthesilea sighed and shook her head. "There will never be such an army again," she said sadly. "The last of their warriors are gone; we took in half a dozen of their youngest boy children, after their horses died. Now villagers scratching the ground for a harvest of barley and turnips pasture their goats and swine where once the herds of Kentaurs roamed with their horses; our mares too are perished, save these last pitiful few. There are few horses now on the plains near Troy, I see. The wild herds have been captured by the Akhaians or by the Trojans themselves."

"Apollo's sacred herd still roams free on the slopes of Mount Ida; none has ventured to touch them," Kassandra reminded her. "Even the priestesses of Father Scamander have not ventured to lay a bridle on their heads." But this made her think of Oenone and she wondered how she fared. It had been years since she had caught sight of the girl; now the women of Mount Ida never came down to the city even for festivals. Paris never spoke of her and as far as Kassandra could tell, never thought of her; even though, now that Helen's children had been killed, Oenone's child was his only living son.

She said, "You and your women must be weary from travel; I offer you the hospitality of the Sunlord's house. Let me bring you servants who will conduct you to a bath, and if you wish for guest robes—"

"No, my dear," Penthesilea said. "A bath would be more than welcome, but my women and I will present ourselves in our armor and riding leathers; we are what we are and will not pretend to be otherwise."

Kassandra went to make the arrangements, then went to prepare herself to dine at the palace. She sent word that she would be bringing guests, but only to Queen Hecuba did she disclose their identity. As kinswomen she knew they would be welcomed, but she knew Priam had no love for the Amazons. Even so, the laws of hospitality were sacred and she knew Priam would never violate them.

In defiance, she thought of robing herself in her old riding leathers and bearing weapons; Priam would be angry, but she wished to identify herself with the Amazons. But when she took the old clothes from her chest the soft undertunic would not even go over her head; it had been made for the girl she had been when she rode with the Amazons. The leathers were old and cracked, and would not fit her either; why had she kept them all these years? The girl she had been was gone forever.

Lying at the bottom of the chest was her bow of wood and horn; she could still draw that, she supposed, and she had kept her sword and dagger bright and free of rust. I could still ride, and I am sure I can still fight if I must, she thought, even though I now have no Amazon garments; perhaps before my city falls I may still draw weapons in her defense. It is not clothing but weapons and skill that make an Amazon. She saw and felt herself—though she had not moved a muscle—fitting an arrow to the great bow, drawing the cord back and back, letting the arrow fly… but at whom? She could not see the target where the arrow sped…

Nevertheless it heartened her to think she would not stand helpless in the final defense of Troy. Kassandra put away her weapons in the chest—the leathers she would throw away, or better yet, keep them for Honey one day. She dressed herself in a fine gown of woven linen from Colchis, and put her best golden earrings - they were made in the form of serpent heads - in her ears. She added a golden bracelet and the necklace of blue beads from Egypt; and went down to meet her guests.

They had been joined by a tall armored man; with surprise she recognized Aeneas.

"I came to escort you, Kassandra," he said, "but I have been talking with your guests. We will be grateful to have the Amazon archers to defend the main tower; we will station them on the walls—"

"I am at your disposal," Penthesilea said, "and I have an old grudge against the father of Akhilles; once at least I will ride out against the son—•'

Kassandra felt again the clamping darkness squeezing its fist around her throat, so that she could neither speak nor cry out.

"No!" she whispered, but she knew that none of them could hear her. Aeneas said in a friendly manner, "Well, Hector is our commander; it will be for him to say where he wishes you to fight. We can settle that in a day or two. Shall we go?" He offered his arm courteously to the Amazon Queen, and they left the room walking down towards the palace. It was not yet quite dark, and Penthesilea looked with dismay at the rubble still blocking the streets. A few wooden shelters had been hastily flung up, but the town still looked as if a giant's child in a fit of temper had kicked over a box of his toys.

Aeneas said, "My father has told me many tales of the wars between the Kentaurs and the Amazons. There was a minstrel at our court who used to sing a ballad about them—" He hummed a few phrases. "Do you know the song?"

"I do indeed; if your minstrels cannot sing it, I will sing it for you myself," Penthesilea said,"though my voice is not what it was when I was girl."

Moving through the courtyards, Kassandra studied the small band of Amazons; Penthesilea had aged more than a year or two since their last encounter on the road to Colchis. She had always been tall and thin; now she was gaunt, her arms and legs all taut ropy sinew with no remaining ounce of softness anywhere. She still had all her own teeth, strong and white; one could hardly have described her as 'an old woman'.

None of the others were as old as Penthesilea; the youngest, Kassandra reckoned, was hardly into her teens, a slight girl who looked as strong and dangerous as her own bow.

This is what I could have been; what I should have been Kassandra regarded the young warrior with ill-concealed envy… At least she need not sit idly while the defenses of her city fell apart,

"But you have not been idle," said Aeneas softly, and she wondered—though she never knew for sure—whether he had read her thoughts or whether she had whispered them aloud. "You are a priestess, a healer. It is not only the fighters who serve a city at war." He slid his arm around her waist and they walked entwined the rest of the distance. When they entered into Priam's great hall, the herald called out their names:

"The Princess Kassandra, daughter of Priam; the Lord Aeneas, son of Anchises; Penthesilea, warrior Queen of the Amazon tribes, and two dozen of her ladies - er -' the herald coughed to cover his confusion, "of her warriors - how shall I say it, my Lady—"

"Peace, donkey," said Penthesilea. "None of us have more wit than the Gods have given us. Your king and queen know who I am." But she was smiling and good-natured even while the herald fumbled to dry his sweaty palms on his tunic.

Hecuba came down from her high seat, bustling toward her sister, and took her into her arms.

"Dearest Sister," she said, and Penthesilea returned her embrace.

Priam rose too and took several steps from the high seat, embracing Penthesilea exactly as his wife had done.

"You are most welcome, Sister-in-law; every hand which can raise a weapon is welcome to us this day. You shall have your choice of all the booty of the Akhaian camp with the other warriors, that I promise to you; anyone who gainsays this is no friend to me," he said, with a sharp and meaningful look at Hector.

"Father, have we come to this?"

"I would welcome the Kentaurs themselves to fight against Akhilles's army," said Priam. "Tell me, Sister, what weapons have you brought?"

"Two dozen warriors and we are all armed with swords of iron from Colchis," Penthesilea said. "Every one of us skilled with the bow as well; not one of my women but will shoot out the eye of a running stallion at a hundred paces."

"Will one of you enter the archery contest in the funeral games tomorrow?" Paris asked. "Akhilles has offered the best of the captured chariots, and to the best archer, the great bow of Patroklos himself."

"He would not award that to a woman," Hector said, "not though she outshot Patroklos himself."

"He is sworn to award the prizes to the victor."

"Nothing is sacred to Akhilles," Penthesilea said. "I would be willing to compete if only to show that to all his men; but he, might surprise me. But I have neither wish nor need for a chariot; and my own bow is sufficient to my needs." She laughed. "I am not in this war for gold or booty; what would I do with a woman captive?"

"If you win enough booty in this war you could re-establish your cities," Andromache said, "or go and found a city of your own somewhere, as my mother's people did with Colchis."

"There are worse thoughts," said Penthesilea. "I will consider that. If I win this great chariot, then, Priam, will you ransom it for gold?"

"If he does not," Hecuba said, "I will. You will be well paid -you and all your warriors."

The wine cups went round again, the men laughing and joking, each saying in which contest he would enter and compete, and what he would do with the prize if he won it.

"You should seek to win one of the women, Aeneas," said Deiphobos. "Someone to warm your bed while Creusa is in Crete."

"No," said Aeneas, raising his cup. "Should I win a captive woman, I will send her to Crete as a maid to wait on Creusa and help her care for the children. She will be paid an honest wage that some day she may be able to purchase her freedom. I like not this passing round of women as prizes. No more than Penthesilea would I desire any woman who does not come to me of her free will."

Over the rim of the golden cup his eyes met Kassandra's; and she knew what he was asking of her and what her answer would be.

They moved slowly up the hill toward the house of the Sunlord; there was no moon, and the streets were dark except for the occasional spilled light from the inside of one of the houses along the street. Kassandra stumbled over a loose stone, and Aeneas put his arm round her, steadying her steps - or perhaps, she thought, seeking an excuse to hold her; she was not certain she had not stumbled for an excuse to cling to him. Although the night was warm he wrapped his cloak round them both; and she was overwhelmingly aware of the warmth from his body.

She was not precisely frightened; but she was nervous and a little troubled. For so many years her life had been the life of a priestess, and virginity had been at the very center of that life. She found herself remembering all the arguments she had mustered against Khryse, and wondered if she were behaving like a hypocrite; now that she had resolved to surrender, and she was surrendering to her sister's husband. But she had Creusa's own word that it did not matter; she need have no scruples on Creusa's part.

And as for the God? She had long lost the belief that it would matter to Apollo Sunlord what she did. He had abandoned her; but if he had spoken to forbid this step, even now, she knew she would not defy him. There was within her a small glowing center of angry desolation; be did not care, it did not even matter to him that one of his chosen was to abandon her pledge to him.

But that thought was buried very deeply indeed; on the surface of her mind there was room for nothing except Aeneas.

They were approaching the great gates; a priest stood there to guard entrance and exit, and she stopped and turned away so that he would not see her.

"We cannot go in there," she said. "If I bring you inside and do not take you out again at once—"

He understood at once.

"No, indeed," he said. "You must take care of your reputation - I would not endanger it, Kassandra. Perhaps we should have remained in the palace this night—"

"No," she said softly, "I would not want that. I am not ashamed—it is not that—"

"But you must not cause a scandal," he said, and walked toward the low wall where it fell away to the streets below. Kassandra felt awkward; she had not thought of this till this moment. She had brought out Akhilles and Odysseus in the cloaks of novice priests; but she could not do that with Aeneas, even if she could somehow lay hands on the cloaks. She frowned, trying to think of a way to bring him in unseen; letting him depart again in the morning was no particular problem. She said in an undertone, "There is a place where the wall crumbled away in the great earthquake; even the little children can climb it. It has not been repaired because all the attention of the workmen has been put to repairing the city gates, down below. This way," she said and led him along the outer wall. It was nowhere very high, and this had once been a door at the side; it had been blocked up only a generation or two ago, and when the old arch had crumbled it left a pile of easily scaled rubble which no one thought it necessary to guard or observe. Even in her long skirt Kassandra found it easy to climb, though the sound of the stones turning, under her feet and Aeneas's behind her rattled loudly.

She thought she was probably not the first of the temple women to bring a lover in this way; it was the sort of thing she would have expected of Chryseis. She did not want to think of herself on the same terms as that alley-cat girl; but she must accept it, she was no better. She gave Aeneas her hand to steady him as she stepped down and felt her breath catch in her throat; she had so often chided Chryseis in her mind for this kind of thing.

If Creusa does not object—and if the Lord Apollo does not speak to prevent it—then there is no one, man or woman or God, who has any right to object, she told herself firmly. She led him along the deep shadows at the edge of the wall; and rather than conducting him to the door of the priestesses' dormitory and through the corridor to her room, took him to the window which opened into the street, and stepped through.

Inside it was dark and still, a single rushlight burning on a platter - just enough to see her bed and the pallet where Honey usually slept. As she approached the bed, Kassandra saw the little girl's dark head on the pillow; and as she bent to lift her, the long blunt form uncoiled upward, eyes gleaming like two flat pebbles. She saw Aeneas recoil and said softly, "She will not harm you; she is not poisonous."

"I know," Aeneas said. "My mother was a priestess of Aphrodite, and shared her bed with stranger things than snakes. Your pet will not trouble me—"

"I can put her in the child's bed if you like," Kassandra said, lifting Honey and laying her in the pallet; the child whimpered and Kassandra sat with her crooning softly to soothe her back to sleep.

"It does not matter to me," Aeneas said, "but I am a stranger to her; perhaps she will spend a quieter night in the child's bed." Kassandra felt heat rising in her cheeks as she rose and picked up the snake, laying her down close to Honey; the serpent glided down, wrapping her coils close around Honey's waist. Reassured by the familiar touch, Honey slept, and Kassandra came back, taking Aeneas's cloak and laying it aside.

"I did not know your mother was a priestess of Aphrodite," she said, and Aeneas replied, "When I was a child, they told me my mother was Aphrodite's self. Later, I knew who she really was and came to know her as a mother. I am not surprised if she seemed like the Goddess herself to my father; she was very beautiful. I think the priestesses of Aphrodite are chosen for their beauty."

"And if they serve the Goddess," Kassandra said,"she would certainly lend them her beauty."

"It cannot be only that," Aeneas said, "or you would long ago have been chosen to her service."

The remark made her shiver. Was she then being deceived into the service of that Goddess who thrust the disorderly worship of carnal love into the lives of men and of women? Was it then that despised Goddess who had sought now to lay a hand on her and win her away from the pledge she had made to Apollo?

Already she had seen how Aphrodite disrupted the lives of those who worshipped her. Aeneas was her child; did he worship her too?

She could not ask him these things. He sat on the edge of her narrow bed, drawing off his sandals. She came to him and he reached for her, with a single gesture pulling the pin from her hair and letting it fall free to hide her face and all her questions. It no longer mattered. All the Goddesses, whatever their name, were one and she should serve them as every woman served them.

She heard the rustle of the snake as she shifted her coils. Aeneas reached for her, his arm around her waist.

"It is no wonder you have remained so long a virgin, with such a guardian of your chastity," he murmured, laughing. "Have all of the Sunlord's maidens such chaperones to safeguard them?"

"Oh, no," she said, laughing and lay back in his arms. Then she raised herself to extinguish the rushlight. Darkness filled the room and she heard him laugh again, softly. Beyond the laughter she heard, very far away, a ripple of thunder; then the sudden rush and rattle of rain outside.

"Shining Aphrodite, if I must serve you as all women, after so many years of refusing your service, lay then some of your gifts on me," she whispered, and felt a shimmer of light round her -or was it only a random flicker of the lightning outside as Aeneas touched her in the dark?

At dawn she slipped quietly from her bed, to sit at the window, remembering and savouring every detail of the night. She sat overlooking the pearly mists below. Soon the winds at the summit would blow the mists away. At the highest point of the Sunlord's house the wind already roared noisily around the walls;, and Aeneas stood not yet armed.

"There is no reason for arming, if I am to compete in wrestling and boxing," he said. "I will take on any contestant save Akhilles himself. I dreamed last night—"

Kassandra asked, "Did the God send you a lucky dream?"

"Whether lucky or unlucky I do not know," said Aeneas. "My good fortune, it seems to me, I have already won." He bent and kissed her. "Promise me; you have no regrets, my beloved?"

"None," she said; it no longer mattered to her; so many years she had waited to give herself, refusing even, as she thought, the Sunlord's self; and here in the midst of war, in the shadow of death, she had found love and knew it could not last.

When Honey at the far end of the room stirred and cried with some nightmare, she moved quickly to quiet the child. She soothed her gently, rocking, crooning to her, and saw Honey's eyes turn to the unfamiliar person in the room; and was suddenly, confusedly glad that the little girl was too young to voice her surprise or curiosity.

Now as they stood close together, she thought of all the other women of Troy who for all these years had been fastening on their men's armor and sending them out to fight - or to die— and that for once she shared the concerns and fears of these women.

She helped him to buckle the final strap on his breastplate; the rest of his armor would be donned in the field. The trumpet which blew at dawn to summon the men had not yet sounded; and this morning it was uncertain whether it would be heard at all; only those who were competing in Patroklos's funeral games need rise or go out this day, although a careful watch would be kept in case the Akhaians attempted to break the truce.

Come, kiss me, love, I must go," he said, holding her tight in a last embrace, but she protested: 'Not yet; shall I find you some bread and a little wine?"

"I must breakfast with the soldiers of my mess, sweetheart; don't trouble yourself." He hesitated and held his face against her cheek. "May I come to you again tonight?"

She did not know what to say, and he mistook her silence. "Ah, I should not have - your brothers are my friends, your father my host—"

"As for my father or brothers, there is no man in all of Troy to whom I must account for my doings," Kassandra said sharply. "And your wife, my sister, said to me when we parted that she grudged you nothing that would make you happy."

"Creusa said that? I wonder - well, I am grateful to her, then. I could have told you that, but better you should hear it from her—" Impulsively he caught her to him again. "Let me come," he begged. "We may not have much time… and who knows what may happen to either of us; but these days of the truce—"

All over Troy, she thought, women fresh from their men's beds were fastening on armor, using these last little delaying moments and kisses, trying not to think of the vulnerability of the flesh they had caressed.

Aeneas stroked her hair. "Even with Aphrodite I have now no quarrel - for it was she, I think, who brought you to me. I shall sacrifice a dove to her as soon as I can."

There were doves enough in Apollo's shrine; but Kassandra felt a certain reluctance to suggest he buy one of them. Aeneas in one way had stolen something belonging to Apollo - though she did not know now and had never known why it should have belonged to anyone but herself. Then she told herself sharply not to be foolish; she was certainly not the first of the Sunlord's maidens to take a man to her bed, and would hardly be the last. She stood on tiptoe to kiss him and said, "Until tonight then, my dearest love."

She went to the high railing to watch him as he went down through the city. It was hardly full light yet; the clouds were blowing across the plain before Troy, and there were only a few figures astir in the streets; soldiers, gathering for the morning meal.

She was weary; she should go back to bed. But she wondered how many of the women in the city who had just sent their lovers or husbands to battle - or, today the mock-battle of the Games—could calmly go and sleep. She dressed herself swiftly, and went into her room, finding Honey still buried in her blankets. She did not want to walk about the courts; for some reason she was certain that she would encounter Khryse and she felt that he would be instantly aware of what had happened and that she could not endure his gaze. She had lately allowed Phyllida to take over the care of the serpents, so there was no reason to go to the serpent court.

With surprise she realized that what she felt was loneliness; she had always been so solitary, and in general so accustomed to that state that it was rare for her to crave company. Then she remembered that there was now one person in the Sunlord's house to whom she could actually say all that was in her heart.

Penthesilea and a few of her women had been assigned a room not far from Kassandra's; the mass of them were in a courtyard nearby, where they were sleeping on rolled blankets. One or two were awake, and breakfasting on bread and the harsh new wine that was made within the Temple. Penthesilea, as befitted their Queen, was in a little room alone at the far end of the hall; Kassandra traversed the ancient mosaic, laid down in a pattern of seashells and spirals, tiptoeing quietly so as not to wake the sleepers. She tapped lightly at the door; the old Amazon opened it and pulled her inside.

"Good morning, dear child. Why, how worn and sleepless you look!" She held our her arms, and Kassandra went into them, weeping without knowing why.

"You needn't cry," Penthesilea said, "but if you will cry, I would say you have reason enough; I saw you leave the banquet with Aeneas last night. Has that rogue seduced you, child?"

"No, it is not like that at all," Kassandra said angrily, and wondered why Penthesilea smiled.

"Oh, well, if it is a love affair, why do you weep?"

"I - don't know—I suppose because I am a fool, as I always knew women were fools who play these games with men, and talk of love, and weep—" And now, she thought, I am no better than any of them.

"Love can make fools of any of us," Penthesilea said. "You have come later to it than most, that is all; the time for weeping over love affairs is when you're thirteen, not three-and-twenty. And because when you were thirteen you were not weeping and bawling over some handsome young slab of manhood, I thought you would be such a one as would seek lovers among women, perhaps—"

"No, I had no thought of that," Kassandra said. "I have known what it is to desire women—" she added thoughtfully, "but I thought perhaps it was only that I had seen them through Paris's mind and his eyes." She remembered Helen and Oenone and how deeply she had been aware of them; something in her, whatever happened, would always feel a strong affection for Helen. This was something altogether different and not at all welcome; it enraged her that she could make such a fool of herself over a man to whom she could never even seek to join her life.

She was crying again, this time with rage. She tried to put something of this into words, but Penthesilea only said, "It is better to be angry than to grieve, Kassandra; there will be time enough to grieve if this war goes on. Come, help me arm, bright-eyes."

The old pet name made her smile through her tears.

Kassandra picked up the armor, made of overlapping boiled and hardened leather scales and reinforced with plates of bronze; it was decorated with coils and rosettes of gold. She pulled it over the old Amazon's head, turning her gently to fasten the laces.

"Should any harm come to me in this war," Penthesilea said, "promise me my women will not be enslaved nor forced to marry; it would break their hearts. Pledge me they will be free to leave unharmed, if your city survives."

"I promise," Kassandra murmured.

"And should I die, I want this bow to be yours; see, I even have a few Kentaur arrows, here at the bottom of the quiver. Most of my women now use metal-tipped shafts, because they can pierce armor like mine; but the arrows of the Kentaurs—you know the secret of their magic, Kassandra?"

"Aye, I know they use poison—"

"Yes; little known poisons brewed from the skin of a toad," said Penthesilea. "And they will kill with even a slight wound. Few of your foes will wear armor head to toe, even among the Akhaians. They are - shall we say - a way of evening the disadvantage that we women have in the way of size and strength."

"I shall remember that," said Kassandra, "but I pray the Gods I shall not inherit your women nor your bow, and that you shall bear your weapons till they are laid in your grave."

"But my bow will do no good to anyone," said Penthesilea. "When I am gone, take it, Kassandra; or lay it on the altar of the Maiden Huntress. Promise me that."