"Kassandra, you are spilling oil all down the edges; don't fill the ladle so full," reproved Creusa coming to sit beside her. "What was my husband saying to you for so long?"
"He was asking how I should conduct this war if I were a soldier," Kassandra said, surprised into truthfulness. But Creusa only laughed.
"Well, don't tell me if you don't want to," she said scornfully. "I am not one of those women who are jealous if my husband says two words to another woman."
"I told you the truth, Creusa; that was one of the things he said. Also we were wondering what we should do if the Akhaians fail to observe the sowing-truce for spring planting."
"Oh, I suppose because you are a priestess, and would know about such things," Creusa said, "but even Agamemnon could not be as impious as that. Could he?" And when Kassandra did not answer immediately she demanded, "You who are a prophetess - you should know that. Could he?"
Kassandra could not answer; but she said, "I hope not. I do not know what they do, or how they serve their Gods."
CHAPTER 7
But being a prophetess was not enough; later, the whole first year of the war became a blur in her mind of fires, raids, men screaming half-burned alive from fire-arrows. A woman had-wandered down unwitting into the Akhaian camp and been abused by a dozen men. They found her screaming in delirium; the healer-priestesses of the Sunlord's Temple fought to save her, but on the first day that she seemed well enough to be left unguarded for a moment, she flung herself from the high wall of the citadel, and someone too lowly to avoid the task had to go down and retrieve her shattered and broken body from the stones far below.
A few days before spring-sowing the priests and priestesses rose to a joyous trumpet-call from the palace below, and found the harbor empty of ships; the Akhaians had gone away, leaving only a long black strip of beach, dirty and fouled from where their tents had been.
There was rejoicing in the city, even as all Hector's men went down to clean away their filth and debris. His son, little Astyanax, came too. Running about now, and prattling - he was a great pet among the soldiers - every minute he brought up some abandoned bit of rubbish he thought a treasure: a shining bronze harness-buckle, a wooden comb broken to a stub, a bit of used vellum on which someone had scrawled a crude map of the city. Kassandra took this from the protesting child and stood looking at it for a long time, wondering what enemy of Troy had done this.
"Give it back!" shouted Astyanax, reaching up for it, and Kassandra said, "No, little one. Your grandsire must see this."
"See what?" asked Hector, taking the parchment from her hand and giving it back to the child. Kassandra bent and reclaimed it, disregarding the angry child's howls.
"What is the matter with you, Kassandra? Give it to him; they are gone, there is no reason to care what rubbish they may leave behind," Hector said. "No. Stop yelling, little son, and you shall have a ride in father's chariot."
"They are not gone for long," Kassandra said, "or, with this, would they have given up such an advantage?"
"You are making too much of this," said Hector. "What do you want with it?"
She traced on it the familiar markings which she could not entirely read.
"Someone from Crete has done this; and I thought they were our allies. I must show it to him—" then she thought better of it and said, "Helen has a Cretan woman among her entourage; I will show this to Aithra." As both a queen and a priestess, if any woman knew this odd kind of writing it would be she.
"Well, if you wish," Hector said with a shrug. "I never knew such a woman for making much of trifles."
But Aithra looked at it without comprehension and said that she had seen such markings in Crete, indeed, but she had not been schooled to read them.
"I cannot even guess whose hand it may be," she said. "Perhaps Khryse will know," and Kassandra was ashamed to explain to the dignified woman why she did not wish to confront the priest.
But at last she took it to Charis and explained; Charis knew why she feared and disliked Khryse, and agreed to come with her while she consulted the priest.
Khryse examined it carefully, frowning, his lips moving, tracing the symbols with his forefinger; then he looked up and said, "This is no more than a map of the city; but the names are written on it. See? This shows the Queen's chambers, the granaries, the great dining-hall, every part of the palace marked; see, and Apollo's Temple, and here the Temple of Pallas Athene."
"I though as much," said Kassandra. "Can you tell me who wrote this?"
"I cannot say who wrote this; but it was no friend to Troy. I can say only that it was probably not a Cretan," said Khryse. "For we are taught to make the letters differently, just a little, in Crete."
That much, Kassandra thought, she could have guessed. Later she took it to Priam, who paid little attention, though he at once recognized it for what it was.
"I cannot think of a dozen men outside Troy who could have drawn this; armed with this, it would be no task at all to find any place in Troy," he said. "Only one who knew the palace or the city very well could have done it, and I cannot think that one of ourselves would have done so. Only—" Priam hesitated, then shook his head. "No; he is my sworn friend and has been our guest. I cannot believe that he would betray us."
"Father, who?" she asked, and Priam, shaking his head, said 'No. Only - no."
"Odysseus?" she asked.
"Kassandra, do you really think my old friend could be so false?"
She did not wish to think this of Odysseus; but the possibility was there. She only said, "In war men forget other oaths, Father."
"It may be. But he pledged to me that he would not be drawn into this war," Priam said. "I will not accuse him unheard. Your dreams are filled with poison, Kassandra."
"Father, it was not I who thought of such a thing," she said. "I only asked if that was your thought."
"I am still certain that I wrong my old friend with such an idea," Priam said, "and I shall wait to ask him to his face if this was his work."
In her heart Kassandra was certain; Odysseus was full of such crafts and wiles, so she had heard. Yet she did not wish, either, to think he would betray his old friendship with Priam and with Troy.
There was not long to wait; the Akhaians had not been gone ten days when the ship of Odysseus was sighted in the harbor. Kassandra had come to the palace to visit Creusa and make a healing brew for her child, who was ailing with a summer fever, and afterwards was summoned to the great hall. Aeneas went at once to greet her; as usual, he embraced her and kissed her cheek.
"Is it well with the child, sister?"
"Oh, yes; there is nothing much wrong with her; I would do better to make a potion for Creusa which would cure her anxieties. Every time the wind changes, she thinks the little one is sick to death. At least Andromache has learned that babies have little upsets and it is better not to dose them too much: they will get better by themselves, and if they do not, there is time enough to call for a healer."
"I am relieved to hear it; but be patient with Creusa, sister; she is young and it is her first child. Come and have some dinner," Aeneas said, leading her forward. Odysseus got up from the guest-seat beside Priam and came to Kassandra; he embraced her so hard that she flinched, and gave her a great smacking kiss.
"So it is my beautiful best girl," he said, "and what have you been doing these months of war? I have a gift for you; a string of amber beads which matches your bright eyes exactly; I have never known anyone else whose eyes are that yellow with just a glint of red in their depths," he added, drawing out the necklace from the folds of his tunic and putting it round her neck. Kassandra sighed, taking it off and holding it between her hands, examining the shining beads almost covetously.