Song of Princes (Homeric Chronicles #1) (6 page)

“When Herakles challenged me,” he began hesitantly, “…when I evaded him.” The king sat silent for a moment. “When I refused to meet Herakles in battle, I offended Apollo. It was a god-test for me. A test of my resolve. My courage. My obedience to the divine order of life.”

“You survived outwitting Herakles. Everyone knows it.”

“Yes, I thought my wit won the day. But, by the balls of Zeus, I was wrong. Very wrong. Apollo intended for me to face Herakles.”

She instinctively pulled the bundled prince closer. “But, Herakles surely would have killed you. Why are you rambling about events long passed?”

“Do you remember the day you woke frightened by the dream?” Hecuba nodded. “I went to the temple myself that very day to ask Apollo if a compromise might be struck. An exchange. Anything to prevent the sacrifice of our son. The high priestess told me it had been my fate to face Herakles that day. Because I assumed defeat at the hands of so formidable an opponent, I stole Apollo’s opportunity to play his divine part in acting my champion. Because of my cowardice, Herakles kidnapped Hesione. Took her to live among the filthy Greeks.”

“Yes, by Hera! I know this tale! All who witnessed the competition know this tale. But what has this to do with our son?”

“I angered Apollo twice, Hecuba. Once for refusing to stand against Herakles as fate decreed and second for allowing a daughter of Troy to be kidnapped.”

“Apollo could have stopped Herakles himself, if Hesione had been that important,” Hecuba said.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. None of it matters now. Because of me, my love, we must give up our son to the god. He has made it clear Troy will burn and be wiped from the land if we do not.”

“What if we get Hesione back?” Hecuba grew desperate. Her mind reached for another solution; anything to keep her babe in her arms.

“It is too late, my love. The god has spoken through his prophets.”

A solid knock on the door echoed through the chamber.

“Troy must not fall, Hecuba. You know as king, I must protect the people.”

The knock came again, louder.

“Give me the baby,” Priam demanded emotionless. The king’s mask fell into place like a portcullis slamming shut.

She looked down at her sleeping son. How could Apollo demand something so cruel from such an innocent? She thought of the things she would never know...his first steps, his first words. She would never know the warmth of his little arms wrapped around her neck seeking a mother’s comfort. “I cannot.” Her body trembled with fear.

“You must.”

“I cannot.” Hecuba’s pale hands clung to the infant. “I cannot do it.” Her mind screamed at her to run, but the birthing process had exhausted all her physical strength. She wept in desperate defeat. She sat as trapped as the newborn in her arms. “Let him stay with me the night,” she begged. “Please.” Every tear she shed stung Priam’s heart like salt poured into an open wound.

The third knock at the door signaled that the guard stood ready for orders.

“Hecuba, you must understand. This is the demand. Though it rips out our hearts, we must obey.” He exhaled a tender, but firm sigh. “Now, give me the child.” Priam reached over the bed and pried the baby from her unwilling arms. As soon as the close warmth of his mother disappeared, the infant began squalling anew.

Hecuba begged through her sobs. “He’s hungry. Let me feed him.”

“No.”  The reply came simply enough. The child would die anyway. It made no sense allowing it nourishment that would only prolong its agony. Priam thought it best to rid its presence from their chamber.  Form no further attachment. He strode across the room with deliberate, heavy steps, and finally opened the door. The king handed the child to a surprised Agelaus. Hecuba’s wretched sobs echoed behind Priam, breaking his heart because he knew this wound would shatter everything he held precious. He wanted to relent, but he could not. “Take the baby to the foothills of the sacred mountain. Leave him there. Exposed. Turn away from him. Do not look back.”

“But, my lord…” the herdsman’s eyes widened. “It is misty cold and soon baking heat.”

“Its continued presence is too much for the queen. Do not return until it is done or I will have your life as well,” the king threatened.

Agelaus stood frozen with the warm bundle squirming and whimpering in his arms.

“Are your ears full of wax? For the love of Apollo! Go!” Priam bellowed. At the curse, the king watched Agelaus fairly run from the chamber as if the hunting hounds were nipping at his heels with himself leveling a spear at his back.

Priam could only imagine the depth of his wife’s despair. She’d carried their son under her own beating heart all these long months. They’d planned for this second child with great joy and anticipation. All their dreams now lay shattered at their feet by one decree of the Fates.

By mid-day, the queen’s hysteria had given way to ragged, uneven breathing. Priam lay down beside her and tried to pull her close. She turned him away.

“Leave me,” her voice hoarse, unrecognizable whisper. “Go.”

Priam stood and with a heart weighed down by his own grief, he left her there. Alone. She wanted neither his touch nor his words of comfort. He studied the pale figure curled on their bed.
She will not forgive me for this.
The chambers of his other women called to him. He needed his own comfort this day. It was the first time in all the years of their marriage that he sought solace for his personal grief in the arms of a woman other than Hecuba. 

AGELAUS WONDERED WHY
the king Priam wanted such a gruesome end for this new life. What secret did he wish to hide by exposing his son to wind and rain and wild beasts at the foot of Mount Ida. He’d never heard even the slightest whisperings that the queen was an unfaithful woman, casting doubt on the paternal issue. No rumors of adultery on her part warranted such harshness for the tiny prince. Agelaus examined the child’s body for defects. Finding none his confusion deepened. “Why? Why must I always to do the harsh work for the king?” Agelaus contemplated the injustice that ordinary men must do what kings chose not to do. “They command and we obey. The gods command and we obey. My entire life is nothing but bowing and scraping to keep mischief from my house.” He immediately regretted giving breath to the thought. “Apollo, forgive me if now, I bring it to myself.” His nervous eyes scanned the sky for some immediate retribution falling his way from Olympus.

Agelaus had fathered two sons of his own. Fine sons both. He couldn’t comprehend what was so dreadful about this child that the king would wish it dead. The baby was a prince of Troy after all. Very suddenly, he realized what he must do. He would stop by his house stop by his house on the edge of the city before heading the long trek to the mountain. The baby’s wail sounded like hunger. His wife could assist in that area. His youngest, two years older than the prince, still took the breast.

“The king need not know all. What harm can come from one day.”
He rationalized his action because, if the king should discover his disobedience, he could find himself jerking at the end of a noose, pissing and shitting himself until Hades opened up before him. He shuddered at the thought. Besides, he didn’t feel like making the long trek to the sacred mountain before a proper morning meal.

When Agelaus opened the gate to the court, he peered around the corner expecting, but hoping not to find his family roused and going about morning chores. The royal guards clamoring had stirred the entire household from sleep when they came just hours ago in the dark to snatch him from a rare night of comforting sleep. He paused at the gate straining to hear anything out of the ordinary. A single cricket chirped. A rooster crowed the coming dawn. The crushed stone crunched under his feet like broken pottery shards. Agelaus silently cursed each noisy footstep, until he made it safely to the side door of the house.

The herder walked through the kitchen where the cooking flames had burned low into blackened charcoal. He knew that soon his wife would be up to stoke the fire before it charred itself completely out. He passed around a corner moving quietly toward his bedchamber. A faint glow outlined the door. With a pounding heart, he took the last few steps. Gently, Agelaus pushed the door open, holding his breath. Lexias lay sound asleep in their bed. He exhaled as relief flooded through him. Without waking her, he lay the baby down next to her in bed. Maternal instinct took over. A sleepy Lexias pulled the child in to suckle. The prince hungrily latched on to her breast filling his belly with warm milk and fell quickly to slumber.

When Apollo’s light brightened the sky over the distant mountains, Agelaus knew it was time to do the king’s bidding.
He stood in the doorway staring. He wondered if the gods would take the child quickly or if they would let him linger and suffer. He wished for some reason to justify the deed. The king had provided him nothing but a harsh command.

He jumped at Lexias’ voice. “Whose son is this? And why did I wake to find him on my breast?”

“It’s best you don’t know.”

She narrowed her eyes, suspicious. “I’ll not take care of any bastards in my home. By the balls of Zeus, I swear I—”

“Calm yourself. He’s no bastard of mine, Lexias.”

She checked the loin wrapping. “Then who is he?”

“He’s not sprung from my seed, if that’s what worries you. He has no name.”

“Ah, so the gods do have a sense of humor. I pray only for a girl. And they drop another boy-child in my lap.” She smoothed the blanket the child lay nestled in, noting the purple edging. “Where did you get this covering? These threads...only a noble house...a royal house would have the luxury of finely spun cloth and purple—”

“Keep quiet, wife. The child doesn’t stay with us.”

Lexias noticed Agelaus’ jaw twitching, so she softened a little. She felt thin and tired in her bones with bearing and raising rambunctious boys and endless housework. With no daughters or household slaves to ease the daily burdens of a wife, she sometimes took her weariness out on her husband. She never purposed to be so hard on Agelaus, but oftentimes her words sounded more harshly than she intended.

“Well, take this
nobody
so I can feed our own. If he left any milk. He woke me nearly sucking my tit off.”

“I told you, he’s not for us. He’s for the gods.”

Lexias handed the bundle to her husband. “Rather ominous of you, Agelaus. Explain yourself.” She stood waiting for his answer. Under such hot scrutiny, Agelaus had no defense. Only by speaking the brutal truth could he find release from his wife’s interrogation.

“I’ve been charged with leaving the child on he slopes of the sacred mountain.”

“Exposure?” Lexias blinked back surprise. “Well, I say you cannot. It’s a heinous deed to be accused of. I’ll not let my husband bear that stigma.”

“I must.”

“But why? Who can force a man against his will to do such a thing? No one holds that power over you.” Every once in a while a rumor passed through the village like a cold mist whispering about some abandoned child here or there. No one knew who or why. However, on occasion, a shepherd might come across a small stack of bleached bones, adding grisly details for good measure. But this was different. No rumor or random speculation circulated among the town. And it was her husband doing the abandoning.

“I must and I will. It’s for your own safety. Our family’s safety. Forget this infant ever crossed our path. That’s what’s best.”

“Husband...this is an awful duty for you both. You and the little one,” she said softly. She suddenly realized that it made sense no one ever knew anything. Who would want anyone to know such a dark secret about one of his or her own blood? She did not intend to blab this to anyone. They might think her husband a cruel insensitive man and that would break her heart for she knew he possessed a tender heart otherwise he may have throttled her by now.

“Well, whose is it? What’s wrong with him?”

“Would you please, for the love of Apollo, stop asking questions,” he snapped. “Help me devise a backpack to put him over my back. I can’t carry him the entire distance. It’s a long walk where I’m going.”

Lexias pulled a thin long blanket from a cupboard and fashioned a sling securing the little nobody around Agelaus’ shoulders and back. She tugged on her handiwork making certain the little one was safe and comfortable. With a belly full of milk and tight swaddling, the child would likely sleep for several hours. Lexias kissed her husband on the cheek and watched him walk down the path away from their house. Once he vanished from her line of sight, she turned her attention to the stable. She sighed into her reality and gently massaged her sore breasts. “Time to milk the goats before Harmon wakes for his feeding.”

“MY LADY, YOU
must try to eat a little something.” Tessa tried coaxing her mistress from the bed for the second time. Hecuba lay on her side facing away from her.

“I am not hungry.”

“Just some bread, my lady, please.”
This isn’t like her at all, languishing abed.
She knew the king had stayed away all morning. He remained secluded yet. Neither the guards nor the household slaves, knew the whereabouts of King Priam.
Why does he stay away from her? After her ordeal? Must have something to do with her weeping.