"The Kentaurs?" said Adrea, one of her chaperones.
"Oh, not the Kentaurs!" cried Kara, the other.
"Why, yes, Nurse, they live in this country and we must pass through their territories. It is almost inevitable that we shall meet one or more of their wandering bands."
But the women had been brought up on the old nursery tales.
"Are you not afraid of the Kentaurs, mistress Kassandra?" asked Kara, and Kassandra replied, "No, not at all."
She supposed that was an unwomanly answer; Kara looked as if the very fact that any woman might escape the fear of what frightened her so much actually gave offense. Kassandra sighed, and finished the wine in her cup. "We must drink this up; it is beginning to turn sour and will not keep in the heat. We can get some more at the next village, in a day or perhaps two," and the rest of the talk was of simpler things.
CHAPTER 14
True to her prediction, they saw the Kentaurs early in the next day. At first, riding the sea of endless grass, Kassandra could see nothing; then very far away, at the edge of her vision, she could-see movement and shadows, and at last made out a small form… no, two… no, three, riding, dark against the golden waving of the grasses. They seemed to see her little caravan advancing, then drew together, conferring; at one point she thought they would all flee, then they wheeled and came riding toward the Trojans.
Kassandra stopped her donkey but made no other move of withdrawal; she knew from old that one should never let a Kentaur believe you feared him or he would take ruthless advantage of it.
She said softly through the curtains of the litter where the ladies rode, "Nurses, you wanted to see a Kentaur. There is one."
"I?" said Adrea. "Not likely." But nevertheless she thrust her head out and peered between the curtains. Kara followed suit.
"What funny ugly little men they are," she whispered, "and shameless; he is naked as an animal."
"Why should they wear clothing when there is no one to see or care? When they come into cities, they have garments they can wear if they choose," Kassandra said, and looked at the approaching band. The foremost among them was grey-haired and gnarled, his legs even smaller and more bowed than the others. He wore a necklace of lions' teeth about his throat; Kassandra recognized him, shrunken and old as he was.
"Cheiron," she said, and he bowed from his horse's neck.
"Kinswoman of Penthesilea; greeting. When last we met we had honey found in the wild. Our tribe is poor, these days. Many, many travellers on the plain; scare away the game, trample down wild plants. Our she-goats give no milk even for the littlest boys. We hunger much."
"We are travelling to Colchis; can you guide us through these lands?" Kassandra said.
"With pleasure, if it is your wish," the old Kentaur said in his barbarous accent. "But how come ye to be riding away from Troy? The whole world's going there for this war, it seems. If not to fight, then to sell something to the fighters, one side or the other."
This was so true there seemed no purpose in commenting on it.
She had before leaving Troy asked the kitchens for a good half-dozen loaves of bread, knowing that the Kentaurs neither grew nor ground grain and that it was a most unusual luxury for them. When it was unwrapped and given the little man's eyes gleamed - Kassandra thought it was with real hunger - and he said, "Priam's daughter is generous. Does her husband fight in the great battles before Troy? If he does I will gift him with magical arrows which will never fail to bring down her enemies even if they do not strike in a vital part."
"I have no husband," she said. "I am sworn to the Sunlord and will have none but him. And I need none of your arrows, envenomed with poison brewed from toads."
For a moment the little man looked at her and glowered; then he leaned back and broke into a great guffaw of laughter, and did something, Kassandra could not see what, that made his horse rear up and prance, and then bow down.
"Huh-huh-huh," he chortled, "Priam's daughter is clever and good; no man of all my people will harm her as she passes through my country, or anything belonging to her. Not even the old women who peer at my men lustfully from behind their curtains! But if you have no use for the old toads, give them to my men; they are no good for bang-bang—" he accompanied the meaningless syllable with a gesture which made his meaning obscenely clear, "but we could boil them for arrow poison, huh-huh-huh?"
Kassandra struggled to keep her face straight.
"By no means; I do not want to travel without my women; they are good to me," she said, "and I would not travel through your country with young and pretty ones."
"Huh; clever," he said, wheeled his horse and rode quickly away.
She held up her hand to signal that she had not finished her parley and he wheeled and returned a little way. She asked, "Does the wise leader of the Horsepeople know where Penthesilea's women pasture her mares this summer?"
He gestured and gabbled out a quick explanation. Since it would not mean going too far out of their way, Kassandra decided she would ride in that direction. Again she took leave courteously of Cheiron, who had begun sharing out the loaves with his men and already had crumbs around his mouth.
After another long day of riding in the direction the Kentaur had indicated, Kassandra saw in the distance a mounted figure.-The stranger carried a bow, such as Penthesilea's women bore, slung across her back. Kassandra signalled to her and the woman approached.
"Who rides in our country with an escort of men?"
"I am Kassandra, daughter of Priam of Troy, and I seek my kinswoman, Penthesilea the Amazon," she said.
The woman, clad in the leather tunic and breeches of the tribeswomen, her long coarse black hair knotted atop her head, looked at her suspiciously; and finally said, "I remember you as a child, princess. I cannot leave my mares," she gestured at the scattered scrawny herd grazing across the spare grasses of the plain, "and it is not my place to summon the Queen, but I will send a signal that she is wanted, and if it seems good to her she will come."
She dismounted and kindled a small fire, throwing something into the flames which emitted great clouds of smoke, covered it, then let the smoke billow up in successive triple puffs. After some time Kassandra saw a tall figure on horseback, making its way across the plain. When the figure neared, she recognized her kinswoman.
Penthesilea's horse approached and she could see the puzzled look on the Amazon's face; after a moment Kassandra realized that her kinswoman had not recognized her. When Penthesilea had last seen her she had been a little girl, and now, older, robed and attired as a princess, a priestess, she was only a strange woman.
She called out her name. "Don't you know me, Aunt?"
"Kassandra!" Penthesilea's taut sun-browned face relaxed, but she still looked tense and old. She came and dismounted, and embraced Kassandra with affection. Why do you come here, child?"
"Looking for you, Aunt." When she had last seen her kinswoman, Penthesilea had seemed youthful and strong; now Kassandra wondered how old she really was. Her face was lined, with hundreds of small wrinkles around mouth and eyes; she had always been thin but was now positively scrawny. Kassandra wondered if the Amazons, like the Kentaurs, were actually starving.