"If it would make any difference," Oenone began, "but now, with the city about to fall into the hands of an angry God - ah, it surprises you that I know that? I am a priestess too, Lady. No, go home and care for your child—send her to safety if you can -it will not be long now. I bear no ill will even to the Spartan Queen, but I can do nothing for Paris. When he deserted me, he outraged Father Scamander - who is one with Poseidon."
It had never occurred to Kassandra before that the River God, Scamander, should be an aspect of Poseidon Earthshaker. But Paris had forsaken the River God's daughter for the daughter of Zeus Thunderer—and he had presumed to judge in a controversy' between the Immortals, abandoning his own country's Gods to serve the Akhaian Aphrodite.
"I bear no guilt for his death," Oenone continued. "His fate is on him as yours and mine are. May your Gods guard you, Lady Kassandra." She raised her hand in a gesture of blessing, and Kassandra found herself walking away down the hill, feeling like a peasant woman dismissed from the royal presence.
Downhill, her return took less time, and when she returned to the palace, she heard the sound of wailing. Paris was dead. Well, she had expected it. Despite her encouraging words to Helen, she had been sure that with such a wound he could not survive long. Moving to the balcony to look out over the plain where the Akhaian armies were building, she could now see the rough outline of what the scaffolding surrounded. It rose, huge, clumsy, unmistakable; the great wooden form of a horse.
So this is their altar, she thought; the very form of Poseidon Earthshaker himself. Do they think this horse will kick down the walls of Troy, or that it will summon the God to do so for them? How childish.
Then, without knowing why, she was seized with a sharp fit of shivering, so that she had to wrap her cloak round her in spite of the brightness of the sun. The figure of the horse - or of the God - struck her through with terror, although she was not sure why.
CHAPTER 14
Even before Paris was laid on his pyre, Deiphobos went to Priam and demanded command of the Trojan armies; when Priam protested, he said, "What choice have you, sir? Is there anyone else in Troy, save perhaps Aeneas? And he does not belong to the royal house of Troy, and is not Trojan born."
Priam only stared, embarrassed, at the ground.
"Perhaps you would like to give the armies to your daughter Kassandra, who was once an Amazon?" Deiphobos asked, sneering.
Hecuba spoke up clear and almost loud, for the first time since Hector's death.
"My daughter Kassandra would command the armies of Troy no worse than you," she said. "You were a cruel and greedy child, and you are a proud and greedy man. My Lord and King, Priam, I beg you to find some other to command the forces of Troy, or it will be the worse for all of us."
But they all knew there was no other. None of Priam's other surviving sons was old enough, or experienced enough, to lead the armies. When Deiphobos was called out before the troops and Priam formally handed over the command to him, Deiphobos said, "I will take this command only if I am given Paris's widow Helen for my wife."
"You are mad," Priam said. "Helen is by right Queen of Sparta, not a prize to be handed from man to man like a concubine."
"Is she not?" asked Deiphobos. "Have you not had enough of the trouble a woman can make when she is left to choose with which man she will share her bed? Helen will marry me and be cheerful enough about it, won't you, Lady? Or would you rather go back to Menelaus? I could arrange that if you prefer it."
Kassandra saw Helen shudder; but she only said to Priam in a low voice, "I will marry Deiphobos if you wish me to, sire."
Priam looked embarrassed. He said, "If there were any other way I would not ask this of you, daughter."
She threw herself into the old man's arms and embraced him. "It is enough that this is what you wish for me, Father," she said.
He held her gently, and there were tears in his eyes. He said, "You have become one of us, child. There is no more to say."
"Well, if that is settled," Deiphobos said loudly,"set forth the marriage feast."
Hecuba protested. "Is this any time for feasting, with Paris lying dead and not yet laid to rest?"
"There may be no time for feasting hereafter," Deiphobos insisted. "Should I alone of all Priam's sons go to my wedding unfeasted and unhonored?"
"There is little enough to honor here," said Priam, under his breath; only Hecuba and a few of the women heard him. Nevertheless he called the servants and ordered the stores of wine to be brought out and a kid killed and roasted, and such foods as could be prepared quickly be set forth.
Kassandra went with the palace women, including Deiphobos's mother, to choose any fruits ready for harvest and set them out on platters. She agreed with Helen and Hecuba that this was no time for feasting, but if this wedding had to be, it should be made to look like a matter of choice rather than coercion. If Helen could put a good face on it, who was she to complain.
But for all the food and the hastily summoned minstrels, the wedding was joyless enough. The knowledge that Paris lay dead above cast gloom over the palace. Long before the bride and groom were put to bed together, Kassandra excused herself and withdrew. Looking down at the lights, she thought that perhaps the common folk of Troy, enjoying the gifts of food and wine sent down to them from Priam's palace, actually believed that this was a genuine festival. If they criticized Helen it was only for her willingness to be given again in marriage before her husband was properly given his funeral rites. Well, she thought, let them enjoy themselves. There may not be much more for them to enjoy.
Just before dawn the funeral pyre for Paris in the back court of the palace was set alight; Kassandra went down with the priests of the Sunlord and watched as veiled Helen, grave and pale, set the torch to the pyre then stood with the nine-year-old Nikos small and serious at her side.
He had insisted on cutting his hair for mourning. "I know he was not my father," he said, "but he was the only father I have ever known and he was kind to me." His attempt not to cry tore at Kassandra's heart.
Once the pyre blazed up, Deiphobos, standing at Helen's side, said with a look of relief, "Now that's done we'll go down and deal with that horse as Paris did. Start with a barrel of good hot tar or some pine-pitch and a few fire-arrows. We'll make short work of it. What do you think of that, my wife?"
Helen's voice was barely audible, "You must do as seems best to you, my husband."
She looked submissive and quiet, like any of the Trojan soldiers' wives, with little trace of the Goddess-given beauty they all had come to take for granted. The words were submissive too, the very ones she might have spoken to Paris, but it occurred to Kassandra that she was mocking him with this obedience. Deiphobos did not seem to think so; he looked at her with satisfaction and pleasure - now he had what he had always envied, Paris's wife and Paris's command. Well, if this marriage had brought happiness to at least one person, then it was not all bad.
They had not demanded this of Andromache, but were willing to allow her a decent time to mourn Hector. Why could Helen not be allowed that same privilege?
Yet Helen had acted to show all women that they can do as she did; they should be grateful to her and admire her.
Deiphobos was gathering his charioteers, briefly discussing strategy with them. Kassandra watched Helen say farewell and bid him take care in battle, exactly as she had done with Paris.
Was it that she was so accustomed to catering to a man's will that it made no difference to her who the man was. Or was she only so stricken dumb with grief that nothing mattered any more? I love Aeneas well; but when he is gone from me, I remain myself. If he were to die, rather than leaving me to return to Creusa's side, I would mourn his death beyond measure; but it would not destroy me as Hector's death destroyed Andromache. Was Andromache mourning Hector then, or only the loss of her place as Hector's wife?