Chryseis was behaving very well; she had gathered the children round her and started them playing a romping game. And of course that was exactly what a nice young girl ought to be doing; she was playing that game so well that all the palace women petted and praised her. Yet even she left the children after a while and came up to the top of the wall of the palace where Kassandra was standing. This time the raiders had not been content to raid the lower town, but were righting in the steep streets below the palace, making for Priam's granaries and treasuries. Soon, she thought, they must fortify the walls and keep the Akhaians out of the lower city.
If only I had my bow, I am out of practice, but I could still manage to drive back some of them before they come near the palace.
Patience; that day will come. For a moment Kassandra thought someone had spoken. Chryseis touched her arm.
"Who are the chieftains among the Akhaians? Do you know any of them?"
"I know some of them; Agamemnon, that great black-bearded man there, is their leader." As always, the sight of him made her stomach clench with revulsion. But Chryseis surveyed him with open admiration.
"How strong he is, and how handsome. What a pity he is not our ally instead of our enemy."
Trying not to show her disgust and annoyance, Kassandra murmured, "Don't you ever think about anything but men?"
"Not very often," Chryseis said blithely. "What else should a woman think about?"
"But you too are one of Apollo's sworn virgins—"
"Not forever," Chryseis said, "nor have I ever ridden with the Amazons, nor pledged myself to hate men. I am a woman; I did not bid the Gods make me so, but since that is my lot whether I wish it or no, why should I not rejoice in it?"
"Being a woman need not mean behaving like a harlot," said Kassandra, annoyed.
"I do not think you know the difference," Chryseis said. "You would prefer to be a man, would you not? If the laws permitted, I think you would take a wife."
Kassandra was about to give a sharp answer, then caught herself… maybe Chryseis was right. She said stiffly, "We have all forgotten poor old Agelaus and his pyre; he must be consumed now; his bones should be put decently into an urn for burial. I will go; Paris is my brother and I will do this last office of respect for his foster-father."
All the rest of the winter and into early spring the raids continued, day after day, and eventually, on each of the higher hills south of the city, Priam set up watch-camps so they could see the approach of the ships and light warning beacons. So the Akhaians, landing, found nothing but bare walls and well-defended heights, and they got nothing but the journey for their pains.
Then Priam's men took advantage of a long rainy spell to repair the outer walls, and reinforce the great gates; when the Akhaians began to try and fight their way up the high streets into Troy itself they could not enter. The lower city was a labyrinth of narrow steep streets built in steep steps, and easily defended by kicking an assailant's feet out from under him.
"They are not finding this city quite the ripe apple for the plucking which they thought it would be," Aeneas gloated, looking out over the palace wall at the streets black with Akhaians running up and down. Even Hector, for once, had been content to let the walls defend them, and most of the women in the city, it seemed, had come out to see the sight of the Akhaians' frustration. Andromache was there with her now-toddling son, and Creusa had her infant daughter tied into her shawl. These alarms had now become so frequent an event that Hecuba no longer troubled to provide breakfast for the unwilling guests in the citadel after a night's fighting; but when Hector issued handfuls of grain and flasks of oil to his fighting men, the rule was that any woman accompanying her husband could claim a similar share.
Kassandra stood by watching the distribution of rations and said, "Tell them to bring back the flasks."
Hector protested.
"The flasks are not worth much; why be niggardly?"
"It has nothing to do with niggardliness. The potters go out to fight with the rest of the men. If this is to go on for long, there will not be enough of them to make more for every fighting day."
"I see what you mean." Hector gave the order, and no one complained. The storehouses of Troy were still piled high with grain, and for the moment there was no shortage of food. Kassandra joined the women of Priam's house in daily refilling the little oil flasks, and pouring the rations of wine. Even at the end of winter there was plenty in the palace granaries; but Hector had begun to frown over them in concern.
"How shall we do the spring sowing if they raid us every day?" he asked one night at the palace.
"Surely they will not come during spring planting," Andromache said. "At home in my country, all wars are suspended at planting and harvest to do honor to the Gods."
"But these Akhaians do not fear the Mother," Aeneas said, "and perhaps they will not honor our Gods."
"But are not all the Immortals one?" Kassandra asked.
"You know that. I know it," Aeneas said. "Whether those Akhaians know it—that is another story. From what I heard, it would not surprise me greatly if they felt war more important to them than any Gods." He smiled at her and said, "Don't worry about it, Kassandra. It is men's business."
"Yet if they come," she said, "it is the women who will suffer more than the men."
He looked surprised for a moment. Then he said, "Why, that's so; I never thought of that before. A man faces nothing worse than an honorable death; but women must face rape, capture, slavery—it's true; war is not for women, but for men. I wonder how a woman would conduct this war?"
Kassandra said with great bitterness, "A woman would have managed never to provoke it. Then, if the Akhaians wanted the gold and goods of Troy, they would have come against us knowing they were not fighting for "honor", but out of greed which the Gods hate."
"Remember, Kassandra, there are men who think of this war as a great playing-field, a games-ground where the prizes are no more than laurel wreaths and honor."
Kassandra nodded. "Hector runs into every battle as if he were to win a bronze cauldron and a white bull with gilded horns."
"No, you are wrong," Aeneas said. There is nothing foolish or reckless about Hector. It is only that we all must live under the rule of our chosen God; and Hector belongs to the God of battles. But his God is not my God; war may be a part of my life, but it will never be my only chosen life." He touched her cheek lightly and said, "You look weary, sister; there cannot be so much here for which you must fatigue yourself. The Queen has many women; and any one of them could do these small services. I think the Gods have ordained something more important for you; and we men may need your special strengths before this war comes to its end; whatever end the gods have decreed for us."
He turned away, stopping beside his wife. She saw him bend to look inside the shawl, touching the baby's face with his finger; he said something laughing, and turned away to go back to the men.
How different from Khryse, Kassandra thought, watching him move down the hill. I said it at his wedding; if my father had found me such a husband, I would have been glad.
In all my life - and I am almost the only woman of my years at the court of Priam who has not yet been given a husband - I have not yet seen any man whom I would willingly wed. Save this one, and he is my half-sister's husband and the father of her child.
She straightened her back wearily and bent again to the task of filling the little flasks of oil.