Chapter Two: What's In A Name?
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Ledagh Geminae Tyndareusah was awoken by her daughter.
"Mother. Mother, wake, please. A man is here to see you. Would you like to speak with him, or shall we send him away?"
"Child, what?" Ledagh, as queen, was never awoken to speak with strangers. Especially at this hour and by her own child.
"This man, Mother, he has come wishing to speak with you." The child was said simply. She did not elaborate, and Ledagh felt her irritation rise.
"Child, what time is it? Who calls upon the Queen of Sparta at such an hour?" she asked, rising. She knew that whoever the man may be, he was important if he were calling upon her at such an hour. "And, Child, what are you doing here? Why are you not in you own room, asleep?"
Ledagh's daughter said, frankly "I was awoken, Mother. I sensed that you needed me and within minutes of my arrival of your rooms, this man appeared."
Ledagh dressed swiftly and left her room, child behind her. "Where are you brothers? And sister?"
"Asleep," said the child. She had always been Ledagh's favorite, a child more special than the others.
The man stood in Ledagh's private parlor. He was tall, much taller than Dareus, Ledagh could not help noticing. His hair was golden and curly and his eyes were the deepest shade of blue. He wore a simple golden tunic and cloak.
"Ledagh," he breathed. He did not bow as any other man would in her presence. Even Dareus bowed to her, for it was by marrying her that he became king. Bragher, Ledagh's father, had been king until Ledagh's marriage. And Bragher had only become King through marrying Cecilah. Cecilah was Queen Mother of Sparta and it was at her small summer cottage that the children of Ledagh had been born.
Ledagh was affronted. "Who are you?" she demanded.
The child looked up at the man and knew. She just knew. He looked at her, knew that she knew, and smiled.
Ledagh watched the exchange with growing outrage. "Who are you? What do you want?"
"Ledagh," her name rolled off his tongue familiarly. "I just wished to see you…" He looked again at the small girl. "And the children."
The child smiled up at him.
"How old be you, small one?" the man asked her.
The child, with grace and daintiness not expected of a child her age, curtsied, and said, "Five years, Highness."
Ledagh stepped in front of her daughter protectively. "Tell me what you want with me or I shall call the guard."
Both the child and the man laughed. He spoke, "No guards, Ledagh. But I would like to see my son."
"Then go and see him," shouted Ledagh, outraged at this man and his complete randomness.
"I will get him, Highness," said the small child, leaving the room swiftly. Her dainty features lighted in excitement as she sped away, skirts flying.
"Who are you?" said Ledagh again. She was trying very hard not to scream with frustration.
He waited until the small girl could no longer hear them before he said, "I… am the swan, Ledagh." The man watched as the queen paled.
Before she could answer, the small girl was back, toting her brother behind her.
"Polydareus? What on earth?" said Ledagh, surprised. Her second son, also five years of age was blinking sleepily up at the man, his dark blonde curls tousled.
"Who's dat?" said Polydareus, squinting at the man.
"Deuces," said his sister, excitedly, using her childish nickname for him, "It's him. Remember, the one I told you about?"
"My son," said the man, squatting down to be somewhat level with the children. "Let me look at you."
Polydareus, urged by his sister, stepped forward. The man looked at the pudgy boy closely. Ledagh found herself without a voice. The boy looked much like the man, though considerably less handsome. Polydareus' eyes were smaller and his nose was "strong" as Ledagh often said. He was quite round, but Ledagh hoped that by the time he was full grown, his puppy fat would be gone. The man nodded at the boy and ruffled his hair.
Then he turned his attention to the girl. She was extraordinarily beautiful. Her features were perfect: big blue eyes, now deep as the ocean, and long, hair like spun gold. Ledagh gasped at the resemblance between the two; the man and her daughter. She had not noticed it before, but now that they stood together, it was apparent.
"You are quite a girl, are you not?" he picked her up. "Little one, what be your name?"
"We call her Philialeda," answered Ledagh swiftly.
The man frowned. "But that means only 'daughter of Ledagh.' This little one is so much more than that."
"We had trouble naming her," said her mother affectionately. "She embodied so many things… her brothers and sister were much easier. Her sister, Clytemnestra, is named for the twisted willow tree that grows here, the Clatem, for she is as complicated as the twisting branches. And my son, Castor, is named for the nut, Cas, which produces a strong but sweet oil that is his name. And Polydareus here is named for his father, Tyndareus."
The man laughed, and the girl-child giggled as well, sharing the joke. "That is no child of Tyndareus, Ledagh. That is my own son. He and this one." He looked sadly at his beautiful, perfect daughter and she wondered why he did so. It was as if he knew something about her that the rest of them did not.
Then he looked Ledagh straight in the eye and said, "She ought to have a proper name. Philialeda is nothing more than an endearment."
Ledagh nodded, frightened suddenly by this stranger. He seemed to have such sway over her daughter, the little one who was so knowledgeable.
The man looked at the small child in his arms. "Helene."