"To the Akhaians?" Kassandra asked in consternation.
"No," said the girl softly, her eyes glowing,"to my lord Akhilles."
"Not even King Priam would send you to him as a slave," Kassandra said.
"It could never be slavery, because I love him," the girl said. "Since first I laid eyes on him I have known there could never be any other man for me in this world."
"My mother is right; you have lost your wits," Kassandra said. "Don't you realize what an animal he is, what a brute? He thinks of nothing but war, takes pleasure in nothing but killing; certainly there is no room in his life for any woman, nor the love of a woman; if he loves any, it is his comrade-in-arms, Patroklos."
"You are wrong," said the woman, "he will love me."
"And if he did, it would be the worse for you," Kassandra said. "I tell you, the man is deranged, mind-sick with the lust for death."
"No, I saw how he looked at me," said the young woman. "How can you say such a thing? The handsomest man the Gods ever made; such beauty must be good, too. Those eyes—"
With a shudder Kassandra remembered the woman in the Kentaurs' village, her ankles pierced with a rope; defending her mutilation as an act of love. It was quite hopeless to talk to any woman in this state.
Yet she must try, if only because they were both women and therefore sisters.
"You - what is your name?" she began.
"Briseis," said Hecuba. "She is a Thracian—"
"Briseis, listen to me," said Kassandra. "Can't you even see how you are deceiving yourself? This is some mad fancy put into your head by a demon, not by a God. You have invented a man from your own dreams, and called it by the name of Akhilles. Do you really believe that if you leave us and go down among the Akhaians you will mean any more to him than any harlot or slave?"
"I could not possibly love him so much without kindling some love in return," said Briseis.
Creusa came and shook her.
"Listen to us, you mad thing! This kind of love is a silly girl's fantasy! If you are simply hungry for a man, I will speak to my father and he will arrange a marriage for you; there are soldiers and chiefs here from all over the world, and your father is a reputable man in his own country; my father will find you a worthwhile husband."
"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—"