"But I don't want a worthwhile husband," said Briseis, "I only want Akhilles; I love him. You are jealous because love has not come to you this way. If it had you would know I can do nothing else - there is nothing else in the world for me but Akhilles; I cannot eat or sleep for thinking of him - of his eyes, his hands, his voice—" The very sound of her voice as she spoke the name convinced Kassandra that they might as well be speaking to the wind blowing.
"Let her alone," she said hopelessly. "This is a fever like that of Paris for Helen, a curse of their Goddess of Love. She'll come to her senses soon enough once she's had him, but then it will be too late," she said.
"If only I can have him, I don't care what happens to me afterward," Briseis said, and Hecuba brushed the tears from her eyes.
"Poor child," she said, "I cannot prevent you. Go, if you will, and take the consequences of your folly. I will send to Priam, and you shall be carried down in a litter, with a message that you are a gift for Akhilles; and if he deigns to accept you, and does not throw you to the common soldiers to show his contempt for our gifts
For an instant the girl blanched, but then she said, "When he sees how much I love him, he must love me in return."
And if he should, you will be worse off than before, Kassandra thought, but she did not say the words aloud. She watched them making Briseis ready; Hecuba even hung her neck with a golden necklace. When she was ready Kassandra almost envied her—she looked so joyous.
Women dream of this kind of love. And then comes the rope piercing the ankles, the slavery, the degradation.
I should be in her place; Akhilles asked for me, and he would certainly receive me as befits my rank. And then while he slept, a dagger for the throat, and perhaps an end to this war… the great Akhilles, conquered by no hero but by a woman, by his own passion where all the warriors of Troy could not bring about his doom.
Is that woman meeting my fate, my destiny?
No; the Gods may sometimes give us what belongs to another, as Paris has the wife of Menelaus, but another's destiny none may live…
I trust this is so, I believe it; for if it is not true I will never know how to bear my guilt.
A few days later Kassandra descended again to Priam's palace, and found Helen in the courtyard, looking down at the Akhaian camp. Her son was running about now, and Kassandra, counting in her mind, realized that Helen had now been with them for the better part of two years. It was hard to remember the women's quarters without her, or that there had been a time when there was not war.
Three years ago I was riding with the Amazons, she thought, and wished she were back on the plains, free of city or palace walls.
Would I leave the House of the Sunlord?
He has forgotten me; he no longer speaks to me, Kassandra thought; I am no other than any woman; but it is a God I love, not a man… I suppose it is better to love a God than a man like Paris, or Akhilles…
She thought of Briseis, and sought out the tent of Akhilles below; she could see standing near it the brightly coloured hangings of the litter in which Hecuba had sent the girl down. And now, she could make out the straight slender body of the warrior standing near the doorway of the tent; and nearby the smaller, rounder, brightly clad form of a woman. Briseis? So at least he had not scorned the gift, nor thrown her to the common soldiers. Kassandra wondered if she was happy and content.
"At least she has what she most wished for," said Helen, walking towards Kassandra and gesturing down at the girl, wrapped in her saffron-dyed veils. "So there is at least one woman in Troy who has what she most desired."
"Other than you, Helen?"
"I don't know," said Helen. "I love Paris… at least under the blessing of the Lady of Love, I loved him, but when she is not with me… I don't know."
So she too loves only at the will of a God… why is it that the Gods intrude into our lives? Haven't they enough to do in their own divine realms, that they must come meddling with the lives of mortal men and women? But she only asked, "Do you think there will be a raid today?"
"I hope so; the men are getting bored cooped up inside the walls," Helen said. "If the Akhaians do not raid us in a day or two, our men will go out and raid the Akhaians, just for something to occupy their time. Why, Kassandra, what's the matter with you? You've turned pale."
"It occurred to me," Kassandra said, speaking with difficulty,"that if this war goes on for long, no son of Troy will survive to be a warrior."
"Well, I would as soon that my son were something other than a warrior," said Helen. "Like Odysseus, perhaps, to live peacefully in his home country and be a wise judge of his people… If you had a son, Kassandra, what would you want for him?"
That she had never considered. "Anything," she said. "Whatever made him a happy man. A warrior, a king, a priest, a farmer or shepherd… anything, except for a slave to the Akhaians."
Helen turned to her child and held out her arms; he came running up to her. She said reflectively, "Before this one was born, I still had it in my power - and often I thought of it - to stop this war. To steal quietly down to the camp and to Menelaus; I think then he would have agreed to go home, and when there was nothing more to fight for - or at least no further excuse to fight - the Akhaians would have had to turn round and go back to our own islands. But now…' she shivered a little, "he would not take me back; not with another man's son at my breast—"
Kassandra said quietly, "Leave him here, then, in Troy; his father will care for him, and so will I, Helen, if that is what you truly want." After she said it, she realized that Helen was almost the only person in Troy to whom she could talk these days; her mother no longer understood her, nor her sisters. She would miss Helen, if she should return to the country of Sparta.
Helen frowned. She said, "Why should I give up my own child, because Menelaus is a fool?" After a moment she added, "To tell the truth, Kassandra - unless you are under the spell of Aphrodite, there is not much difference between one man and another; but children are not so easily set aside. I am not responsible for this war; and I think Agamemnon would have made war sooner or later, whatever I did or did not do." She sighed and let her head rest against Kassandra's shoulder. "My sister, I am not as brave as I think I am; I could summon the courage to return to Menelaus, even to leave Paris; but I cannot bring myself to leave my child." She picked up the toddler leaning against her knee, and pressed him to her heart.
"To leave your child? And why should you, after all?" asked Andromache, coming to the wall with Creusa just in time to hear her last words. "No woman could bring herself to leave a child she has borne… or if she could, she would be no better than a whore."
"I am glad to hear you say so," said Helen. "I was trying to tell myself that it was my duty to return to Menelaus—"
"Don't even think of such a thing," said Andromache, hugging Helen. "You belong to us now, and we would not let you go for every Akhaian down there; even if Paris and Priam and all the men wanted you to go - and they do not. The Gods have sent you to us and we will keep you - won't we, Creusa?" she added to the other woman, who nodded and laughed.
"The Goddess has blessed you, and we will not let you go."
Helen smiled faintly." That is good to hear. All my life men have been kind to me, but women never; it is good to have friends among you."
"You are too beautiful for women to love you much," said Andromache, "but you have been here for two years now; and unlike many beautiful women, you make no attempt to seduce our husbands."
"Why should I do that? I already have one more husband than I need; what should I want with yours?" Helen asked laughing. "I have no great love for Troy, indeed, and would willingly see more of the world; but women cannot travel…'