Helen of Sparta (15 page)

C
HAPTER TWELVE

O
ne more cup of wine, Helen, and then I’ll call Pollux to see you to
your bed.”

She mumbled something in her sleep that sounded like a denial, and he smiled. Theseus helped her to sit up, and her eyelids fluttered open, her eyes like emeralds in the
lamplight.

“Here.” He pressed the cup into her hands. “To help you sleep. You will need as much rest as you can get, I’m afraid, for tomorrow night will brin
g little.”

She widened her eyes with an effort and hid a yawn behind her hand. “Fo
rgive me.”

“I would not have bothered to wake you at all, Princess, but I fear we push Menelaus’s temper
too far.”

“He hates you,” sh
e mumbled.

Theseus nodded and helped her lift the cup to her lips
. “Drink.”

She took a sip, and her nose wrinkled, the taste seeming to wake her more thoroughly than his words had. Her eyes narrowed in a glare over the rim of the cup as she swallowed down the rest in one l
ong draft.

He turned a laugh into a cough, fearing she might spit the wine in his face if he showed his amusement. She did not seem to
be fooled.

“It did not taste like that when Pirithous dosed me,” she muttered, setting the cup down on
the table.

He poured more wine to wash the bitterness from her mouth. “Pirithous likely did not make you drink it all
at once.”

“Hmph.”

She drank the second cup without complaint, though, and the tension around her eyes eased. He took the cup from her hands before she had finished. As it was, he’d be surprised if she c
ould walk.

He leaned down so he would not be overheard. “Tomorrow, after you retire for the evening, can you find your way out of the women’s quarters without be
ing seen?”

She considered it for a moment, blinking slowly. “Perhaps through one of the windows in the bathing room. They look out on the back side of the palace and the practice field, rather than the courtyard, though I would not want to risk
jumping.”

“I would not let you fall.” He stroked her hair from her face. “I will not let any harm come to you again, Helen. I
swear it.”

“But we will still need to get beyond the palace gate and the city walls. Both are well guarded. And if anyone notices your
absence—”

“I will be conspicuously present, with witnesses to vouch for me. Your brothers, if I can manage it. Menelaus can hardly accuse them of complicity. You need only excuse yourself from the feasting when full dark has fallen and slip out of the palace without being seen. Not even by your maid. Can y
ou do it?”

She bit her lip, her gaze sliding down the table to
Menelaus.

“Helen.” He caught her chin and turned her face to his. “Can y
ou do it?”

She blinked the moisture from her eyes as quickly as it had co
me. “Yes.”

“Good.” His fingers trailed along her jaw as he dropped his hand, her skin so soft beneath them. “Then you need not worry about the rest. Pirithous is the most successful raider I have ever known. In the dark, he moves like fog and shadow. You will not be seen as long as you are in his
company.”

“But if he is absent for too long, he will be accused. Will that not point suspicion back at you
as well?”

Theseus grimaced. “Pirithous slipping away for a few moments during a feast will be expected by now. I only hope he does not leave too many childre
n behind.”

“Is that why he’s always gossiping in the
kitchens?”

“He is even more accomplished at talking women into his bed than he is at
raiding.”

Helen fell silent and looked away, her brow creased. Theseus wished he had never mentioned it, but perhaps it was better for her to know the kind of man Pirithous was, if she had not realized i
t already.

“They are always willing, Helen.” He brushed her hair from her face, so he could see her expression. “There are many women who think it an honor to bear the child of a demigod, legitimate or not, and Pirithous at least ensures they enjoy themselves as much as
he does.”

She shook her head just slightly, her hair falling in a golden curtain between them. “It is
n’t that.”

“T
hen what?”

“Nothing,” she said. “It’s
nothing.”

She tried to stand but lost her balance, falling back to the stool. Theseus steadied her. He should not have let her drink so much wine, perhaps, but she had needed it. A good part of it was probably the potion; he had not meant to keep her up so long after giving
it to her.

“Are you well?”
he asked.

“Just tired. I think I’d better go to bed.” Helen pressed her hand to her forehead, her face almost green. She swallowed so hard, he heard it, and he hoped she wouldn’
t be sick.

“Pollux!” These
us called.

Her brother glanced up, then excused himself from the company of Ajax the Great. The warrior’s eyes lingered on Helen until he noticed Theseus’s glare. Could none of these men hide their lust for even the length o
f a feast?

“King Theseus.” Pol
lux bowed.

“Would you see your sister to her room? I’m afraid she’s asleep on
her feet.”

Pollux laughed. “Little sister, how much wine did you have
to drink?”

“Too much,” she mumbled, reaching for his arm. “But you needn’t gloat. I’ve learned m
y lesson.”

Theseus helped her to her feet, and Pollux swept her up into his arms, tutting softly. She rested her head against her brother’s shoulder an
d groaned.

“What on earth possessed you to drink yours
elf sick?”

“Does it matter?” s
he moaned.

“Thank you for your attention to my sister, King Theseus.” Pollux smiled, looking very much like Pirithous. “I’m sure that in the morning she’ll have the grace to thank you herself, if not to apologize for he
r excess.”

Theseus shook his head. “No apology necessary. I am sure the fault is mine, I should have cut more water into
her wine.”

He squeezed Helen’s hand once, then let them go. From the corner of his eye, he saw Menelaus rise as Pollux and Helen disappeared through the door. Pirithous slipped out a moment later, and Theseus retook his seat. He did not dare follow Menelaus to see what happened when he found the Athenians i
n his way.

“Are you sure you will not let me send a slave to warm your bed, King Theseus?” Leda asked, touching his shoulder. He had not noticed her cross
the room.

“My thanks for your hospitality, my lady, but I think King Pirithous has already had
my share.”

She smiled. “Sparta is not so poor that we do not have enough women to serve both the son of Poseidon and the son of Zeus. After spending the evening beside my daughter, you would surely benefit from the relief of
a woman.”

“You cannot think your daughter’s beauty is an im
position.”

Leda twitched one shoulder, neither confirmation nor denial. “It is simply my observation that she is a trial to the self-control of other
warriors.”

“Lesser men, I’m sure.” His knuckles were white with the effort of keeping his tone civil. “Unwo
rthy men.”

“You waste your time on Helen,
my lord.”

He stiffened, rising to his feet to face the queen of Spart
a. “Do I?”

Leda did not even step back, though he loomed over her. She raised her chin, and he could see where Helen had come by her courage, though he was fast beginning to think courage was the only virtue Leda
possessed.

“She will not make you a biddable wife, even if her father will allow it. And Tyndareus has his heart set on making Menelaus his son, no matter what he says otherwise. Whatever games are played to test her suitors, you can be certain they will favor the younger
Atrides.”

“I’m sure you do not mean to insult me, Queen Leda, for you must recognize that the son of Poseidon is a match for any man. Or do you mean to suggest that Menelaus and Tyndareus conspire
to cheat?”

Leda only smiled politely. “Helen has already given Menelaus her maidenhead to secure his claim. Of her own free will. She teases you, King Theseus, and I would not see you abused in such a way while you stay as o
ur guest.”

His hands closed into fists at his side, and it took all his strength not to reach for the woman’s throat. “You know this
as fact?”

“I arranged it at my daughter’s request.” Leda touched his arm, all sympathy. “I am sorry to give you such news, but better that you learned it now th
an later.”

He ground his teeth and looked away. The girl who had come to him in the night in tears had not arranged for anything, and had he been in doubt, her pain when he had told her the story of Antiope would have been proof enough. That Leda knew what had happened only made her Menelaus’s accomplice, and for that she deserved punishment much greater than he could
dispense.

Hera, make her suffer for this betrayal. Spite her for everything she
has done.

“Send the slave,” he said softly, so she would think he believed her. “And let Menelaus have Helen, if she is so determined to be
his wife.”

He took the wine jug with him when he left, and thanked Athena for giving him the chance to sow the seeds of doubt. Let Leda believe he thought Hel
en ruined.

CH
APTER THIRTEEN

T
heseus did not so much as look at me the next morning. He did not smile at me across the table, or ask if my sleep had been disturbed. I could not even tell him that his men had done their job and kept Menelaus fro
m my room.

“Did I do anything foolish last night at the banquet?” I asked Pollux. Surely Theseus could not be angry that I asked about Antiope. It was the only thing I could think of that might have caused him to dismiss me, though the later part of the evening was fogged with too much drink and exhaustion, and I could not remember it al
l clearly.

“Other than pass out, I didn’t notice a thing,” he assured me. “Why do
you ask?”

I glanced at Theseus, seated beside Leda. “He does not even acknow
ledge me.”

Pollux laughed. “Perhaps he is simply too distracted with arranging his departure to give you all of his a
ttention.”

“His departure?”
I frowned.

“Theseus and Pirithous leave tomorrow after the morning meal. I heard him tell Father and Mother this morning. I’m surprised he didn’t mention it to you la
st night.”

I shook my head. “Not a word.” It made little sense for him to leave so soon after my own abduction. Tyndareus would suspect him immediately, no matter how many people had seen him at th
e banquet.

“I was surprised myself, but Mother didn’t seem to be. Tyndareus did not dare take offense, of course. He wouldn’t risk upsetting two demigods. But I think he is relieved to see them go, all the same. Pirithous has been free with the servants, and Theseus has kept you much to
himself.”

Menelaus joined us then, and I did not dare ask Pollux anythin
g further.

“Did you sleep well, Helen?” he asked me. Beneath the table, his hand foun
d my knee.

My face flushed, and I tensed beneath his touch. “Wel
l enough.”

I stopped myself from mentioning the disturbance of his cursing the men beneath my window. The sound of his voice had brought me out of a deep sleep, and I had lain still as stone in my bed, waiting until he had gone and dreading he would find a way around them int
o my room.

“I meant to come to you yesterday, but the Athenian did not seem as though he would let you out of h
is sight.”

I glanced at Theseus again, but even with Menelaus beside me, he gave no sign he noticed. Pollux and Castor laughed together, oblivious as always. I hoped they would stay that way. If Pollux thought I had arranged my own disappearance for any reason, I had no doubt he woul
d find me.

“Just as well.” My voice wavered, and I had to clear my throat before I could go on. “Tyndareus would not have been happy if I had slipped away to
see you.”

“Tyndareus would not have cared. Leda herself has given us permission, and she would not have done so without your father’s ac
ceptance.”

His hand slid up my thigh, and I pressed my legs together to stop him, my heart racing. If I looked at him, I
would cry.

“Come for a walk with me, outside,
” he said.

My hands shook, and I crossed my arms, pressing them against my ribs to keep him from seeing. “I’m sorry, Menelaus, but Tyndareus told me yesterday I was to stay with ou
r guests.”

His fingers dug into the flesh of my leg, then released me. “Lat
er, then.”

I repressed a shudder at the thought and forced myself to smile.
“Perhaps.”

“Menelaus!” Pollux slapped him on the back. “We need you on the practice field. Castor is bragging he will have you beat in the sword and sorely needs a reminder of his inex
perience.”

For the first time since the celebration had begun, Menelaus grinned, and for a moment I saw the man who had been my friend. “It would be my pleasure, if you can talk your sister into coming to watch. Perhaps she will offer the winner a prize from h
er gifts.”

“Little sister, you would not deny us the pleasure of Menelaus’s sword arm, would you? Castor has been insufferable
all week.”

“A golden cup to the winner, then,” I said, glad for the excuse to put distance between us. “And I will come
to watch.”

Maybe if I was lucky, Menelaus w
ould lose.

Pirithous found me by the yard during the first round of fighting and dropped to the ground beside me. More than just Castor and Menelaus would challenge one another today, and somehow the prize had become not only a golden cup but a kiss from me as well. Menelaus’s idea, so sure he was that he would win. I hoped h
e tripped.

The practice field was kept cropped by the palace goats where it was not soft sand for wrestling. During larger games in honor of Ares or Athena, logs were used to mark out arenas. Pollux had made me help pour libations to both the war gods, and Zeus as well, though this would be an informal occasion. The ritual bound everyone to the rules of the fight—the object today was only to disarm—but it did not always keep people from being seriously wounded. Agamemnon in particular never scratched where he c
ould stab.

Of course, Clytemnestra had come, with our cousin Penelope, to watch. Nestra giggled and cooed from the other side of the field, making cow eyes at Agamemnon. Tyndareus must have told her of the betrothal, or else she simply had no shame at all. The latter, I decided, when she admired the other men just as openly. She whispered something to Penelope, and they both looked at me before breaking into a titter. Penelope and I had been friends once, but she spent so much time with Nestra now, it seemed unlikely we ever would
be again.

“You look much improved this morning.” Pirithous raised my hand to his lips, and I smiled, happy for the distraction he offered. “Not the worse at all for the wine. A true child
of Zeus.”

“I would think it would be a truer test for a child of
Dionysus.”

“Ah, but is not Dionysus a child of Zeus as well?” Pirithou
s grinned.

“Won’t you fight with th
e others?”

Pirithous stretched out in the grass, folding his hands beneath his head and crossing his legs at the ankles. “I’m not sure it would be fair, really. I could perhaps give Pollux a lesson or two, but they wouldn’t have any hope of winning against me in
a fight.”

Watching Menelaus and Ajax the Lesser circle each other, I couldn’t decide whom I hoped to see pummeled more. “Very considerat
e of you.”

He laughed. “You don’t sound pleased, Helen. Would you like to see someone in particular driven into
the dirt?”

Ajax snarled and lunged, but Menelaus deflected the blow, dancing back wit
h a laugh.

I picked at the grass, shredding the pieces between my fingers. “If the war comes, Ajax of Locris will be the first to rape me. I’ve seen it happen a dozen ways, but most often he is t
he first.”

Pirithous said nothing, though his body grew taut as a
bowstring.

“And when he finishes, he brings me to Agamemnon, who does more of the same.” I nodded to where the king of Mycenae stood, cheering on his brother. “Of course, this is only when Menelaus himself does not find me and press a knife to my throat. In those dreams, things go much wors
e for me.”

“You told him this?
Menelaus?”

“Yes.”

Menelaus slid his sword under Ajax’s guard, nicking his bicep. Ajax charged him, and they tumbled to the ground. Agamemnon roared with laughter, but Pirithous watched with narr
owed eyes.

“And what of your mother?” he asked finally. “Does she know what your future with Menela
us holds?”

“When I was a child, my mother warned me countless times that all I could expect from men was violence because of my beauty, but she all but disowned me a year ago. What Leda knows of me now, she learns from Tyndareus, and Clytemnestra’s gossip. She and Nestra are like sisters, now that she is old enough to marry, always whispering and laughing together.” Just as Nestra did this day with Penelope, as though determined to turn every woman in the palace a
gainst me.

Pollux forced the two men apart, barely avoiding a bloodied nose in the process. Ajax and Menelaus squared off again, grinning at each other li
ke wolves.

Pirithous sat up, and I turned to see what had caught his attention. Theseus stood on the side of the field beside Pollux, sword in hand. Even from a distance, his knuckles w
ere white.

“What on earth is he doing?
” I asked.

“Being a hero.” Pirithous rose to his feet and stripped off his short tunic, revealing a kilt beneath. He grabbed one of the practice swords, flipping it end over end to test the balance, then chose another, casting a glance over his shoulder a
t Theseus.

“I thought it wouldn’t be fair if yo
u fought?”

“Theseus has other ideas, it seems.” He brandished the swords, one in each hand, and nodded to himself. “Whatever happens, Helen, stay off the field. The farther from the fighting, th
e better.”

Theseus stepped forward, and Ajax and Menelaus broke apart. Pirithous strode out onto the field, planting the second sword in the ground on the way, hilt up. Theseus said something I didn’t hear, and Pirithous grinned, taking up a place at his back. When the others drifted from the edge of the field toward them, I began to u
nderstand.

Pirithous and Theseus meant to fight them all at once. Nearly two dozen men, all in their prime. Menelaus circled around Pirithous toward Theseus, and Agamemnon came to his side. Pollux and Castor stepped back out of the group, tossing their swords to the ground and taking the position
of judges.

“To first blood,” Pollux called, raising his arm. “Any farther, and you forfeit your prize. Don’t forget that the ladi
es watch.”

When the melee began, I could not bring myself to
look away.

Theseus’s sword arm moved so quickly, I could barely see it, but each stroke caught a man’s arm, or shoulder, or leg, sometimes even a cheek. Pirithous was much the same, and in the first few moments, the crowd of men who attacked them had been thinned to half its number. Neither one of the demigods had even broke
n a sweat.

“Is that the best you can do?” Pirithous taunted. “What kind of suitors will you make for Helen if you cannot even last a heartbeat in battle without sheddi
ng blood?”

Pirithous grinned at me. I shook my head, afraid to speak for fear of distracting either one of them. Menelaus did not look as though he would limit himself to scratching his opponent, and Agamemnon rarely played any ga
me fairly.

The bloodied men fell back, lining up at the edge of the field with my brothers. Of the second round, Pollux called only Ajax of Locris from the field, and I thought it pleased him that the man did not last longer. Truth be told, it pleased me, too, and from the look of him, Pirithous had not been gentle with his sword. Ajax limped away from the fight to join the others, his kilt stained red w
ith blood.

In contrast to Pirithous, Theseus said nothing, not even grunting. Though he deflected the blows of others, his gaze never left Menelaus. There were only six men left now. Ajax the Great, son of Telamon, of course, and the brothers Atrides among them, cheered on by Clytemnestra and Penelope. Patroclus, a young man but a fierce and quick fighter, also held his own, unbloodied by Pirithou
s’s sword.

The last two I knew only by reputation, for they claimed they were the twin sons of Ares, but I did not know their names. They pressed Pirithous hard, fighting together as I had seen Pollux and Castor do, as if they knew each other’s minds. But Pirithous caught one of them on the forearm, and without his brother, the other did not fight half as well. Pirithous flicked his wrist and disarmed the man, catching the sword in his free hand in time to block a blow from Ajax
the Great.