"I thank you; it is very beautiful, but I would not be allowed to wear it. Should you not bestow it directly as a gift for the Sunlord?"
Odysseus took back the necklace, frowning.
"It suits you so well; and the Sunlord, though I have no quarrel with him—" he made a pious gesture, "has no need of such gifts as I can give." He looked round the room, and his eyes fell on Helen, sitting modestly in Paris's shadow.
Helen said in her gentle voice, "Dear old friend, I will keep the necklace for Kassandra, and she shall have it back whenever she wants to ask for it." She was quite obviously pregnant by now, but Kassandra saw with a sigh that it seemed to make her even more beautiful. Andromache had been strong and healthy throughout, but she had looked pale and bloated, while Creusa had been sick all during her pregnancy, unable to hold down any food, and so wasted that she looked like a rat dragging about a stolen melon. Helen looked, Kassandra thought, just like one of the carven pregnant goddesses she had seen in Colchis; or like Aphrodite if the Goddess of Love would allow herself to be seen pregnant.
She took the necklace from Kassandra's hands and said gently, almost affectionately, "Who knows, my sister, you may not always be in the Sunlord's service. I give you my word, this necklace is yours any time you ask for it."
Against her will, Kassandra was warmed by the glow of her presence. She said, more affectionately than she intended, "Thank you, my sister," and Helen pressed her hand and smiled at her.
Priam interrupted testily, "It is all very well to stand here as my guest and bestow trinkets on the girls, Odysseus, but tell me, did I not see your ship among the raiders at the walls, and were you not among them? I thought you had promised to me that you would not be drawn into war against me with those Akhaians."
"That is true, my old friend," said Odysseus, grinning and
- draining the wine from his cup at one draught. Polyxena came to refill the cup and he smiled up at her - almost a leer - and patted her rounded buttocks. "Would that I were still unwedded, pretty thing; if your father could have given you to me - even if I am old enough to be your grandsire, and I am not given to seeking brides in their cradles - then Agamemnon could not have tricked me into coming against old acquaintances this way."
Priam looked politely skeptical.
"I confess, my friend, I do not understand."
"Well," said Odysseus, and Kassandra reflected that Odysseus would certainly make a good story of it, truth or falsehood. "You do remember that I was among the suitors for Helen when she wedded Alenelaus. Helen, I think, has forgiven me that I was not one of her suitors - I wanted only to marry Penelope, daughter of Ikarios."
Helen smiled. "May the Gods of Truth forgive you as firmly as I have done, my friend. I only hoped I might gain a husband as faithful to me as you to your Penelope."
Odysseus continued, "And when all the suitors were fighting it was I who created the compromise that broke the deadlock; that Helen should choose for herself and that all of us should take oath to defend her chosen husband against all contenders. So when this war broke out, there was I, caught in my own trap; Agamemnon sent for me to come fulfill the oath I had taken to Menelaus."
Priam scowled, though Kassandra could tell that her father was not really angry; he wanted the rest of the story. "And what of your oath to be my guest and friend?"
"I did my best to honor it, Priam, I vow to you," said the old seaman. "I have seen enough of the world, I wanted to stay home and look after my own acres. So I had Penelope send a message that I was sick and could not come; that my wits were astray, that I was a poor madman. And when Agamemnon came, I put on my ploughman's old hat, and yoked my horse and my ox together, and started to plough a field of thistles. And do you know what that -' he hesitated, "well, there are ladies present—that Agamemnon did?" He gave the name the force of an obscenity, and looked round to survey the effect of his story on his rapt audience. "He picked up my little son, Telemakhos - he was just toddling—about the size of your Astyanax, Hector—and he set him down in the field right in front of where I was ploughing. So what was I supposed to do—plough right over the child? I swerved the team, and Agamemnon laughed to split his sides and said, "Come on, old fox; you're no madder than I am!" demanding I honor my oath to defend Menelaus. So I came; but believe me, it was I who sent them home to do their spring planting. They'll be back after that—I came to warn you all."
Priam had laughed as hard as anyone; then he sobered and said, "I can see how you could do no other than you have done, Odysseus. For all that, you are still my friend."
"I am," Odysseus said, and helped himself to fish and bread.
"And may you always be so," Priam replied, "as I am yours."
Kassandra narrowed her eyes, looking at Odysseus as if seeking the Sight. Try as she might, she saw only a harmless old man, genuinely torn between old friends, and unwelcome neighbours with whom he must, for the safety of his own family, keep the peace. Yes, he would be their friend - as long as it was to his advantage to do so. Unless there was a good joke or a good story to be made out of his own cleverness or even treachery. No friendship would stand against that; not for Odysseus.
She quickly finished her own meal and, rising, asked her father for permission to withdraw. He gave it absentmindedly; she kissed her mother and Andromache, lifted little Astyanax in her arms and kissed him too, though he squirmed and insisted he was too big to be kissed, and left the hall.
After a minute she realized that someone had followed her. Thinking it was one of her sisters with a question to be asked of a priestess which was too private to ask before men, she stopped to wait. Then strong male arms went round her; and for a moment she rested in Aeneas's arms before, regretfully, she drew away from him.
"Aeneas, no; you are my sister's husband."
"Creusa would not mind," Aeneas said in a whisper. "Since our son was born, she cringes whenever I come to her bed. She has no desire for me, I swear it. She would rejoice if I found love elsewhere."
"You will not find it with me," Kassandra said, sadly. "I too am sworn, my brother; sworn to the Sunlord, and it would be a braver man than you who would contend with him for a woman."
Aeneas said, still holding her in his arms, "I will strive with him if you want me to, Kassandra. For you I would dare even his wrath."
"Oh, hush," she said, holding her fingers over his mouth. "You z did not say that. I did not hear it. But this much I will say, my dear," she went on, the endearment slipping from her lips almost without volition, "if we were both free, I would willingly have you, as husband, or as lover - whatever you would. But I have seen the wrath of Apollo Sunlord, and I would not knowingly dare it for any man; certainly not for you, whom I could well have loved."
"The Gods forbid," said Aeneas piously,"that I should contend against a God, unless you should demand it of me. If you are content to be the Sunlord's bride and no other's," he freed her and stepped back, "be it as you will. Yet I swear by Apollo himself," and he raised her slender hand respectfully to his lips, "I shall be forever your faithful friend and your brother, and should you ever desire my help, I swear you shall have it, against any man - or any God."
She said, shaken, "I thank you for that; and I shall ever be your friend and your sister, whatever happens."
He held her gently by the shoulders. "Kassandra, my dear, you do not look happy. Are you truly content in Apollo's Temple?"
"If I were," she said in a whisper, "I should have run away from you before it ever came to this."
She drew away from him and went quietly out of the palace, her heart still beating so loudly she felt that Aeneas must have heard it. As she climbed the long hall toward the Sunlord's house, she felt tears unshed pressing at her eyes.