Nobody's Prize (21 page)

I was struggling over my needlework when I heard the tread of heavy feet and the sound of stormy voices. The queen’s chosen courtyard lay at the heart of the palace, a lively, broad, much-crossed space. I looked up, along with Lady Aithra and her women, saw a half dozen grim-faced guards marching through, and overheard their heated words:

“—cursed luck!”

“And he was
drunk
! He can’t fight when he’s sober, so how did he manage to win a match against our best swordfighter when he was
drunk
?”

“What
I
want to know is where that oaf got his paws on those gems and silver and gold trinkets to stake against us.”

“Who cares? I lost everything on that wager. That’s what matters to me.”

“—swore by the Styx he’ll fight a rematch against any man we pick. We’ll win our own back then. Him winning this time had to be some cruel joke of the gods. It won’t happen again.”

“I say we all should’ve rushed him after the duel and
taken
back what we lost right away.”

“—say that
now,
when he’s nowhere near to hear it.”

“Are you calling me a coward? I ought to—!”

They marched into the palace and out of earshot. When they were gone, one of Lady Aithra’s women remarked, “Well, I wonder what that was all about?”

The queen shrugged. “Gambling again. Didn’t you hear them mention a wager? Men.” She went back to her handwork. She never noticed that I was almost quivering with glee. The guardsmen’s angry words were sweeter to my ears than any of Orpheus’s songs.

According to the pattern I’d chosen to follow, I was supposed to go to Lady Aithra again the next morning, but I didn’t. I wanted the freedom to celebrate Telys’s victory, and the only place I could do that was in our special place between the walls, old and new.

As soon as we got there, I began to dance around the oak, crowing, “You did it, Telys! You won! I knew you would.”

“Thanks to you, Lady Helen.” He looked a little embarrassed by my praise. “You were right about everything. The men thought I was a bungler with a blade. They saw the glint of silver in my hand, smelled that one mouthful of wine on my breath, and expected to win an easy wager.” He plucked my battered pouch from his belt and dropped it into my hands. “So much for
that,
” he said with a smile.

I marveled at how loudly the pouch jingled. “This is excellent, Telys, but what about the rematch? I overheard some of the men talking about it.”

“I told them I owed my win to Artemis because she’d promised me victory in a dream. To honor her, I vowed not to fight again until the moon’s full. That gives me at least five days to find us a ship. It won’t be hard. Now that spring’s here, the harbor’s teeming.”

I felt a stomach-twisting qualm. “You—lied about Artemis? Telys, what if she takes offense?”

“The gods don’t notice everything we do. How many prayers go unanswered? But if Artemis is offended by what I’ve done, I’ll take full blame.” He sounded strong and sure of himself, a warrior who didn’t need a sword to prove his worth as a man. Then he added, “I suppose I’ll soon find out if I’ve made Artemis my enemy. If someone from the palace spies me seeking three passages to Tiryns today—”

“‘Tiryns’?” I interrupted.

“That’s the port nearest to Mykenae. Then we’ve got to travel overland. If I find a ship headed there, I’ll take it as a sign that Artemis isn’t angry with me after all.”

His lighthearted words made me realize just how close I was to regaining my freedom. “I’m going to see my sister, Clytemnestra, again, Telys!” I exclaimed.

“‘Clytemnestra’?” A note of uncertainty had crept into his voice.

“Didn’t I speak of her to you before? She’s married to Lord Thyestes’ eldest living son, Prince Tantalus. When we reach Mykenae, she’ll surely help you and your mother begin a new—”

His pockmarked face lost color. “Thyestes no longer rules Mykenae. He was driven from his throne by his nephews, the princes Agamemnon and Menelaus. We heard that Prince Tantalus died trying to help his father. If I’d known that he was your kin—”

“What! When?” I grabbed his arm hard, as if I could squeeze answers out of him more quickly.

“The news reached Athens not too long before you arrived, in late autumn.” He released my grip gently. “Agamemnon, son of Atreus, is the new lord of Mykenae.”

“I don’t care if they’ve put a one-legged donkey on the throne!” I cried. “What happened to Clytemnestra? Tell me what’s become of my sister!”

“Lady Helen, hush, don’t fear. She’s alive and well. I
thought
I recognized her name when you spoke it just now. I first heard it from the herald who brought the news of Thyestes’ overthrow. Lord Agamemnon made her his bride. She’s queen of Mykenae.”

“Queen?” A wobbly laugh shook me. “Just what she always wanted. Poor Tantalus. This Agamemnon had better treat my sister well. If not, he’ll answer to Sparta.”

“I pray it won’t come to that, Lady Helen.”

“So do I.” The shock I’d felt at Telys’s news was gone. Cold anger took its place. “She
knew.
Lady Aithra knew what had happened in Mykenae, but she never said a word to me about my sister.”

“Lady Helen—” Telys began, a cautioning note in his voice.

“Don’t worry, I’m not about to draw my sword against the queen.” I smiled to ease his mind. “I’m satisfied just imagining Lady Aithra’s face the moment she learns we’re gone. Let’s see her explain
that
when her precious son comes home! Tell your mother to be ready to leave Athens at a moment’s notice, Telys, and find us the ship we need. Hermes help me, before another sun rises, I’ll have a way to get out of the palace when it’s time to board her.
Nothing’s
going to stop us from reaching Mykenae.”

         
14
         

THE LAUGHTER OF GODS AND MEN

I’d declared I’d think of a way to escape the royal citadel of Athens before another sunrise. Two days later, I was no closer to finding a practical solution. The problem occupied my mind above all while I was in Lady Aithra’s company, and I was with her daily to give Telys as much free time as possible to find us that ship.

The long-dead king who’d ordered the construction of this building had taken care to make it a point of defense first, a royal home second. Besides the main gateway, there was only one other, and it was watched jealously. The walls were tall and thick, their ramparts inaccessible except by four stairways, each guarded. I thought about climbing the oak tree that grew near Lord Kekrops’s haunted ruins to see if one of its branches was strong and long enough to let me get to the stronghold’s outer walls.

“And then what?” Telys asked when I shared the idea on the third morning. He was escorting me to the queen’s quarters, as usual.

“Then I’d drop down over the wall and—”

“—break your neck. Lady Helen, have you
seen
how high those walls are? Two stories tall in most places, higher in others.”

“If I could get a rope—” I wasn’t about to give up.

“There’s a parapet that’s supposed to keep you from falling over the edge, but it doesn’t even come up to my knees. In some places along the wall, it’s nonexistent.”

“So that’s why he put you up there so many times, and in the dark, too,” I said bitterly.

Telys gave me a wry smile. “My poor, disappointed brother; I never
did
manage to trip and tumble to my death. But you see, Lady Helen, I know the walls. You can’t climb down a rope if there’s no place for you to anchor it.”

“Stupid walls,” I grumbled.

I spent the entire day doing embroidery with Lady Aithra, sitting under a green myrtle tree in one of the smaller palace courtyards. The queen wore the most comical expression of alarm and despair whenever she reviewed my work, so I began making one huge blunder after another on purpose, toying with her and amusing myself.

When the light began to fade, she looked positively relieved. “That will be enough for today. Will you dine with me, or would you prefer to eat in your own quarters?” It was an invitation without warmth.

I didn’t want to spend any more time in her company than she did in mine. “I’m very tired,” I replied. “I’d like to eat alone.”

She didn’t try to coax me into joining her, merely summoned the guard who stood in for Telys when I visited the queen. “See the lady Helen to her room,” she said, and turned her back on me.

That evening, I was seated on my mattress, finishing the last of my dinner, when I heard a gasp from the night guard posted outside my room. “Lady Aithra!” he exclaimed, and tore the door curtain aside so violently that he nearly pulled it off its hanging rings. I looked up from my plate to see the well-dressed regal woman enter my room. She’d pulled her mantle up over her head, putting her face into darkness, but a few gray curls escaped into the light and trailed down one shoulder. I wondered what she wanted from me now. She had a thin blanket draped over her arms. Even if the night were cold, why wouldn’t she simply order a slave to bring that to me?

“Lady Aithra, is anything the matter?” I asked, setting aside my dish and rising to my feet. She shook her veiled head, then turned and pulled the curtain all the way back across the doorway. That done, she edged past me and went into the farthest corner of my tiny room before settling herself into a very un-queenly squat against the wall, the blanket still covering her hands. She sighed happily, then nodded for me to join her. For a moment I hesitated, convinced that her son’s long neglect had broken her mind at last. Who knew what she had concealed under that blanket? Medea had taught me to keep my distance from madwomen. Then I realized my error.

I knelt beside her and peered into the shadows cast by her mantle. “You’re not the queen,” I whispered. “Who are you?”

“A grateful mother,” she replied softly. She let the blanket slide to the floor, revealing reddened, rough hands. No one who saw such work-hardened hands could ever mistake her for a queen.

When she pushed back her mantle, I drew in my breath sharply in shock. “You’re the woman who sold me the offerings I needed for Hades’ shrine,” I said, struggling to keep my voice to a murmur.

“True.” She reached inside her gown and pulled up a thin leather thong hung with the same amber bead I’d traded to her. “Telys is my son.”

We spoke as softly as we could to keep our conversation from the guard outside. Telys’s mother thanked me for all I’d done for her boy.

“I still can’t believe I ever took you for a lad,” she said. “Look at you! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful young woman, body and spirit.”

I made haste to change the subject. “And I can’t believe you simply walked in here unquestioned, as the queen.”

She smiled. “It’s easy enough. I know the ways of the palace. When I’m clad like this”—she held up a fold of her fine gown—“the guards see only the dress, not the woman.”

“Where did you get such clothing?” I asked.

“It was a gift from my boy’s father.” She looked wistful as she stroked the supple wool covering her knees. I’d imagined that she’d gone to the old king’s bed because she’d been a slave and had no choice about it, but her eyes told a different story. “These garments are old, but I preserve them well. This disguise is the only way I can see my son as often as I’d like.” She held up her hands and studied them ruefully. “As long as I keep
these
hidden from sight, no one questions me. I’ve also learned it’s not wise to linger too long under
her
roof.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you,” I said. “I don’t know where Telys is right now.”

“But I do.” Her smile was much like his. “Tonight I’ve come to see
you,
Lady Helen. I’m here to let you know my son’s found us the right ship, a merchant vessel that sails for Tiryns tomorrow.”

Tiryns,
I thought.
So Telys has his sign that Artemis forgives him. Good.
“This is a gift from the gods,” I said with more enthusiasm than I felt. “I wish you both a peaceful voyage.”

Her brows met in a puzzled frown. “You speak as if you’re staying here.”

“It’s not what I want. To leave Athens, first I need a way out of the royal citadel. It’s all I think about, but the only thing that fills my mind is the sound of the gods laughing at me.” I bowed my head, dejected.

“We’re not leaving Athens without you.” Telys’s mother spoke in a voice that forbade argument.

“Nonsense. I’ll be fine.” I smiled as boldly as I could manage. “You could carry a message to my sister from me, asking for help. I don’t want to drag Mykenae into war, but if worse comes to worst—”

“If worse comes to worst, you’ll be pregnant with Theseus’s child by summer,” she said bluntly. “Lady Helen, sometimes what’s simplest works best. At dawn tomorrow you’re going to walk out of the palace, through the great citadel gates, and down the city hill to the sea. No one will stop you.”

“They won’t?” My brows rose sharply.

“Why should they?” She spoke with calm assurance. “Haven’t you done the same thing a dozen times before, when the queen takes you with her to the temples to pray for her son?”

The sun was a sliver of gold on the eastern horizon when we approached the great citadel gate. There were five of us—Telys, his mother, myself, and two elderly slave women. They were the same age as Telys’s mother and were her dearest friends. Each carried a large basket on one shoulder, apparently brimming with offerings for the gods.

The air was still cool from the night before, but we women would have kept our mantles up over our heads even if the day had blazed like Hephaistos’s hottest forge. The pair of guards on duty peered at our group in the faint light and saw what they expected to see.

“Lady Aithra.” The two men on duty saluted Telys’s mother solemnly. One of them added, “My lady, please join my prayers to yours when you ask the gods for Lord Theseus’s safe return.” She inclined her head graciously in response and he smiled, basking in “royal” favor.

The second sentinel looked annoyed at being left out. He stepped forward, keen to grab his share of the “queen’s” attention. “My lady, perhaps it would please you better to have a
different
guardsman accompany you to the shrines?” He looked meaningly at Telys. It was clear he hoped to win “Lady Aithra’s” approval by shunting aside the man she most despised.

Telys’s mother shook her head emphatically but said nothing. If she spoke and the guards realized how different her voice was from the queen’s, we’d be doomed.

“Are you sure, Lady Aithra?” he persisted. “Say the word, and I’ll—”

“Are we going to waste the morning here, listening to this jabber?” I demanded loudly, drawing all eyes to me. “Where I come from, guards
take
orders and keep silent.”

I stalked toward the gate as though exasperated with the pushy fellow. Telys overtook me in two strides. He clamped one hand to my shoulder, turned his head crisply toward the “queen,” and coolly said, “Lady Aithra?” His mother responded by standing taller, turning her back on the abashed sentinel, and sweeping past Telys and me, out of the citadel, the perfect image of regal pride. The two slave women hurried after.

“That was close,” I whispered to Telys as we all walked down the path to the heart of the city. “For a while, I was afraid I’d have to use this.” I patted the familiar weight on my left hip. I had my sword at my waist again, hidden beneath my cloak.

“You sound more regretful than relieved,” Telys joked. “If that man had challenged us, you’d have given him a fight to remember.”

“I did
not
want to fight my way out,” I said vehemently. But in truth, this wasn’t how I’d pictured my escape from the citadel. In my more fanciful moments, I’d imagined the clash of swords, the shouts of soldiers, the rumble of running feet, maybe even the reek of smoke and the crackle of fire.

We reached the temple of Athena as the city was waking up. Soon the streets would be crowded. Many eyes followed the five of us as we entered. I could just hear what those people would be telling their families that night: “You’ll never guess who I saw this morning: Lady Aithra herself and the king’s young bride-to-be, visiting the shrines. Yes,
again.
Mark my words, with so many prayers constantly in their ears, the gods won’t fail to bring Lord Theseus home soon.”

“Lady Aithra” had her slaves give the priest wine and olive oil for Athena while she and I stood together before the image of the goddess. Before we left, she removed a necklace and placed it at Athena’s feet. I saw the priest beam with approval.

Looking less queenly than before, “Lady Aithra” proceeded downhill to Aphrodite’s shrine, where she and I each gave the goddess one of the more splendid pieces of our garb. The priest was too busy admiring our offerings to notice how much more we resembled ordinary folk than royalty.

In Apollo’s temple we left behind wine, cakes, and one of the slave women. I admired the inconspicuous way she faded into the shadows. Telys also took the opportunity to find an out-of-the-way spot and hide his sword inside the basket she abandoned. When we headed for Zeus’s temple, we looked like a well-to-do family attended by a single slave woman, but when we left the god’s house, only three of us remained. The same sort of Athenians who would have stared at “Lady Aithra” and her escort didn’t give us a second glance as we passed them now.

By the time we reached the ship, we were just a mother, a son, and a
very
modestly veiled daughter. The sailors had gotten the ship into the water already and were too preoccupied with their own tasks to bother about us. Once aboard, we were sent to a place in the stern of the ship between the last bank of oars and the helmsman.

The captain gave an order and the men bent their backs over the oars, rowing the ship into deeper water to wait until it was time to set the sail and let the wind do most of the work. I pulled back the folds of cloth concealing my face and felt the familiar touch of sea spray on my cheeks. It filled me with elation and memories.