City on the Aegean

It could have been any other city, really, but there was just something about shining Troy that made it so -- well, Troy. The voices in the agora as Helios began his journey through the great azure were no different to the voices one would hear in any other agora in any other city; the soldiers were no less lecherous, the priestesses no less celibate, and the citadel was certainly no less grand than one would find anywhere else. Still, the shining city on the Hellespont was distinctive as distinctive came. Theseus of Athens attributed it, in half-jest, to the fierce northerly winds that whipped 'round the citadel, regardless of time of day or year; Ajax of Locria swore it was the cuisine and the women. Nobody was entirely certain, and nobody was entirely inclined towards caring. Ilion had the favour of the gods -- what mortal would be inclined to question that? As long as the fishmongers could barter with suspicious patrons and artisans could sell their wares, the people were happy and the king stayed on his throne. Not that much else mattered.

"Fresh fish! Cheapest in the market, I guarantee you, caught not twenty minutes ago..." exclaimed one of the aforementioned fishmongers, gesturing to one of the hefty baskets at her feet.

"It's an awfully long way from the docks to the agora..." replied a potential customer, dubiously eyeing the hefty fishwife (whose face was reddening quickly).

"Are you calling me a liar?" she exclaimed, raising a mallet high above her head.

A group of soldiers stood guffawing at the spectacle, but a rather attractive, light-haired waif of a girl captured their attention. Nudges and catcalls did not make her turn her head; as a result, the most insistent soldier took off after the fast-disappearing maiden.

A shriek of laughter echoed across the square -- nothing new, of course, there was always some children's game taking place. However, a few heads turned in mild surprise as an ebony-haired young woman came dashing through the square, pushing through the crowds where and when it was needed. "No, I'm not telling..."

"Oh, yes you are! Come back here!" Following close on the miscreant's heels was a taller boy -- clearly, the two were siblings, possessing the same unruly curls and striking grey-blue eyes. And of course, there was no mistaking who these two were --

"Ouch! Helenus, my arm!" The girl frowned, prising her brother's hand off of her upper arm. "All right! All right, you've caught me. What do you want me to say?"

Helenus merely raised an eyebrow at his sibling. "You know, Cassandra, the least you could do for having made me chase you halfway across the city is tell me what exactly it was you told Electra --"

Cassandra blinked blankly at her brother once or twice, before her eyes widened in something that looked suspiciously like mischief. Standing up on her toes, she whispered something into his ear -- and before he had quite registered her words, she was off through the crowd again with another peal of laughter.

This time, she didn't get quite as far, intercepted as she was by the band of soldiers. "You know, princess, one would think you'd know better than to run around in the streets like a child of the orchards."

"And one would think you'd know better than to assault a daughter of the King and Queen," came the jesting reply. "Unhand me, Aetos."

The soldier grinned good-naturedly, not letting go of Cassandra's upper arm. "And what if I don't want to, hmm?"

"Hector would find out." Helenus skidded to a halt in front of his twin and the soldiers, sizing them up with an ironic twist to his lips. "You're meant to be training."

"Their regiment wasn't called this morning," Cassandra shrugged, and pulled away from the soldiers. "And I was just joking, you know, Helenus, I didn't actually tell Electra anything."

Helenus eyeballed his twin as they strolled through the marketplace, trying to catch their breath. "Which would explain why she giggles every time I've walked past her for the past five days."

Cassandra grinned. "Perhaps she's in love with you…no, don't hit me," she started, just managing to dodge her brother's hand. "And Aetos and his band are meant to be on the fields."

Helenus merely raised his eyebrows and began to backtrack, but Cassandra grabbed his arm. "Helenus."

"It'll be my blood if Hector finds out that I knew about his soldiers missing training..."

The princess shrugged. "He won't, and he's had the regiment training from dawn 'til after dark for a month. You wouldn't begrudge them a day's absence, surely -- and if Hector does, I'll talk to him."

Helenus threw his head back and laughed. "As much as he loves you, Cass, Troy's general is not going to listen to the words of an unmarried girl!"

"Even if that unmarried girl can lay claim to more common sense than the heir to the throne?" Cassandra answered testily; clearly, this topic did not sit easy with her.

"Just because I respect your intelligence, and Antiphus and Polites respect your intelligence, doesn't mean that you should expect the rest of Troy to," Helenus pointed out. "As far as they're concerned, your sex overrides your royalty."

Cassandra merely scoffed. "Troy's apparently forgotten that I'm one of the few women in the city who can read, write, ride and fight as well as any man."

The prince sighed and shook his head. "Will you ever accept your limitations, Cassandra?"

"Would you accept me if I did?"

Helenus, having no answer, simply shook his head again. "I'm going to the temple. Go home before they notice you've been out," he said, before turning around and striding towards the temple district. It had been three months since his official initiation into Apollo's sect, and, thanks to extensive training, he was beginning to display innate talent as Seer.

Cassandra sighed heavily and plopped down onto the steps. Of course Helenus was right; she was a girl before she was a royal, and at the age of fifteen, half the city expected her to be married and out within the next six months. It was either that or the temples -- and as much as she loved her gods, Cassandra had to admit that she was unwilling to make the sacrifices that the priestesshood entailed.

"Don't look so glum, princess!" Came a cheery cry from behind her; Cassandra merely rolled her eyes.

"Why are you always so chipper?" Sighing, she turned and briefly acknowledged the old fruit-seller. "I hate being a girl. More to the point, I hate being my father's daughter..."

The old man shook his head wisely. "You could renounce those ties if you joined Apollo's order, you know," he observed, hardly aware of the fact that he was voicing Cassandra's exact thoughts. "Though the god does demand much of his acolytes."

"Apollo demands nothing of his acolytes; it is his inept priests that subject their subordinates to the torture that they go through before becoming priestesses…"

The old man raised his eyebrows as the princess grabbed an apple off his trolley. "There's a statement that warrants an apology from him."

Cassandra shrugged. "Did I insult the god? No, I only made mention of my father's inability to select those who serve him…" smiling vaguely, she passed the apple to a little street urchin that ran past. "In any case, I doubt any Olympian would consider me pious enough to become their servant."

"Apollo has always favoured you and your twin above all of Priam's other children." The fruit-seller absently passed change to a customer, his eyebrows raised slightly: there was hardly a soul in the city old enough to remember that did not know of the snakes that had accosted the infant twins in the god's temple – the first, and apparently the last, of Priam and Hekabe's children to have been blessed by any Olympian.

"If the gods consumed wine as copiously as mortals do, I would attribute the decision to a drink-induced lack of judgement," Cassandra quipped, and then clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, dear, I shouldn't have said that." Her horror was sincere; she had been in trouble with her parents before on account of her irreverence, though this was easily one of the more controversial sentences to pass her lips. "Oh, gods."

Neither the fruit-seller nor the princess noticed the little urchin bite thoughtfully into the apple; he doubled back, a vague grin on his lips, and tugged on the middle-length skirt that Cassandra insisted (somewhat scandalously) on wearing. She glanced down, throwing the child a mildly curious glance. "Princess Cassandra?"

"The one and the same, my friend."

"Helenus wants to talk to you at the temple."

Cassandra raised both eyebrows. "Ah. Which would explain why you ran towards me from the opposite direction?"

The little boy pouted. "I saw him. He said it was urgent."

"Now, really, I know I gave you a fruit, but this is quite ridiculous –" she appealed to the fruit-seller, seeing that the child had no intention of moving. "You heard Helenus, didn't you? He told me to go home…"

"He could have changed his mind," the old man pointed out.

"Helenus will be angry with me."

Cassandra shook her head, incredulous. "My brother is anything but short of temper."

"I don't want to be in trouble," the boy insisted, tugging on her skirt. "I hate being in trouble."

The princess frowned. Helenus was not quick to anger, but he was capricious. She had to go to the temple of Apollo in any case, and her parents would not excuse this morning excursion. If she went back to the palace now, they wouldn't let her outside the walls of the citadel until the start of the festival next week. Cassandra shrugged, failing to notice the oddly adult expression on the little boy's face. "Lead the way, my friend."