As always, I would like to thank my lovely reviewers and those who are following this tale as it unfolds. Without further ado, here is the next chapter.
My father was dead.
It took two hours of pacing for that fact to sink in but, when it did, I started to shake uncontrollably and had to sit down. Suddenly, the world seemed to be closing in on me and my breathing became strained, as though I'd been running all morning without rest. The full weight of the war seemed to fall upon me then and, to complicate matters further, I did not understand why I was so upset. There were many others who had lost loved ones that day and many children who were now fatherless. I also had not seen the man in years and his face had become blurred in my memory, replaced by the faces of those I had come to think of as my family.
That was what disturbed me more than anything. That and a prevailing sense of guilt for having never sought him out, though I doubted he would have seen me, to tell him that I had not forgotten him or my sister. The latter had been thirteen and not yet a woman when I had moved into the palace but I recalled her face somewhat better than my father's. With that in mind, and providing I lived through the war, I had to wonder if I would remember them at all in two years. Or would the memories become naught but ghostly apparitions floating occasionally through my psyche, too vague to be significant?
The truth was that I had not been close to either of them, even when my mother was alive, and only thought of them now out of a sense of duty towards my blood family. There were few happy memories from my childhood that included my sister, even though she was not young enough to make age difference a valid reason for that, and fewer with my father. I had been, in every sense of the word, my mother's daughter – save for my hot temper – and her early death had left me a stranger in my own home.
My cousin's marriage to Hektor had been a blessing, not only for my city but for me. By bringing me into the palace as first her lady of waiting and next, the protector of her son; Andromache had saved me from being married off to a stranger. That would likely have been my father's next course of action and the only one that he could have taken without drawing the ire of the city for mistreating a priestess.
So why then was I crying?
My emotions were so jumbled that I elected to eat dinner in my rooms that night but could barely stomach more than half the plate and was just going to call a servant to take it away when a knock came at my door.
Drawing a deep breath, I called for the visitor to enter and was relieved when it was Hektor who walked in and not his infuriating younger brother.
"Even now, with the weight of grief on your shoulders, you stand so straight" he remarked softly. I did not tell him that I only did so because I could not fathom doing anything less but neither did I lie. "I have to" was my simple reply and I saw a ghost of a smile cross his features "indeed. You have the sympathy and gratitude of my family, Ismena"
I nodded and my expression must have been odd because he looked at me warily "is it strange that, when I think of my family, it is your family that comes to mind and not my blood relatives?"
His expression softened "perhaps to others it would be but I have long considered you family and your cousin spends half the time correcting herself when she calls you sister"
"I was my mother's daughter, from face and form to personality. She gave me all that was good in her, save her patience, and when she died, I considered myself an orphan until I came here. I grieve the fact that I did not speak to my father before his death, that I did not have the chance to forgive him for not being present in my life. But we never really got along. My family is here now. You, my cousin, your father, Cassandra, little Astyanax, and Briseis, wherever her soul has fled to" I explained.
"And Paris?" he said and, from the sparkle in his eyes, I knew he was teasing me and despite my seriousness, I had to smile "well, my blood sister failed spectacularly at being the annoying younger sibling that most children have, so someone had to make up for it"
He grinned at me "and he is doing a fine job of it, from what I hear".
I had to agree with him on that.
I visited my cousin afterwards to assure her that I would be well and Andromache insisted that I attend the mass funeral being held in an hour's time. "It will give you closure" she said softly and when I was standing amongst other mourners with Priam and Hektor next to me in full royal regalia, I saw her point. Even if I did not recognize him, I was still there to see his pyre lit and when a solitary tear dripped down my cheek, the king placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
"He died well and is with the gods now, Ismena" he said simply and, though I wasn't sure about the validity of the last part of the statement, I nodded anyway.
Later, though the sun had set and it was dark, I decided to take a walk in the gardens and was surprised when I saw that the torches were lit. Who else could be out at that time of night, besides myself and guards?
Then I heard the sound of something sharp striking wood and, treading with near absolute silence as if I were hunting prey, I followed it to a small cleared area. Peering out cautiously from the bushes, I saw the blue clad figure of Paris as he drew back an arrow and fired it at a target that was positioned as far away as was possible within the confines of the garden and courtyard. Both of my eyebrows rose of their own accord. Now that was new. Paris was not the fighting type and even I, having never held a knife longer than my hunting knives, knew he was too slender to wield a broadsword properly. However, the sight of him with a bow gave me pause because I had never considered that his body type was similar to that of many an archer atop our walls.
The arrow hit too far to the left and, as he drew another arrow, I immediately spotted the problem. He was shifting too far to one side, which changed the angle of the bow minutely and sent the arrow astray. The second arrow landed beside the first and, before he could draw another, I stepped out and revealed myself "you need to adjust your stance, Paris" I advised quietly.
He whirled to face me and the look of sheer anger on his features melted into shock that I had actually spoken to him. I realized then that I was not angry at him as much as I was at Helen. He had, of course, brought her with him but she could have refused his offer to do so. Instead, she had abandoned her family and run away to a foreign land to get away from her problems. That in itself was why I hated her so. I couldn't fathom leaving a young daughter alone in a royal court, especially when her father could not have cared less about her. I also could not even consider leaving my cousin or her son.
"Nock your next arrow" I directed as I walked up to him and he stared at me for a long moment before obeying "I am going to shift you a little". Despite my warning, however, when I placed my hands on his hips to move his body so that he was not favoring his injured leg, he shuddered and let go of the arrow, which missed the target entirely and disappeared into the brush. I could only hope that he hadn't hit one of the guards that often patrolled the grounds at night. Biting back my amusement, I forced myself to stay calm "why did you release it?" I asked, keeping my voice even. "Forgive me" he mumbled "you – you make me nervous".
My amusement faded into blank disbelief and I blinked then exhaled slowly "good. You must be able to hit an enemy target even when you are wetting yourself with fear. Which is why you are out here, am I right?" I said, once the bewilderment had worn off. He nodded and, even in the dim light, I could see the dark blush that stained his cheeks as he pulled another arrow and drew it back. Again, I touched his hips and this time was able to gently move them so that he favored his other leg.
"Now release the arrow".
He obeyed and it flew straight into the center of the target. I then directed him to repeat the process and, when he split the first arrow with the second, I did not have to see his face to know that he was smiling.
"You told me not long ago that you saw goddesses" I recalled.
He nodded again and turned to face me "so have I…and Artemis is a fine teacher. Keep practicing and remember to avoid putting all of your weight on your dominant leg. It will become instinctive after enough repetition" I told him.
"I will" he promised solemnly and the conviction in his voice led me to believe that he meant it "I heard about your father's death and, for what it is worth, I am sorry"
I interrupted him with a shake of my head "a Greek killed him. Not you"
"I am the reason they are here, Ismena. We both know that"
"You and Helen share the blame for that equally, Paris. You asked her to come and she did not refuse. Instead she left her husband and only child, defied Zeus who had married her to Menelaus in the first place, and ran away. After much reflection, I understood that, though you gave them reason to wage war on us, Agamemnon has likely been looking for one ever since Menelaus requested an alliance with Troy. I would not be surprised if the purpose of making Helen obvious was to play on your legendary naivety and love of female flesh in order to give them that reason. You, being naïve, did not suspect it and she, seeking an escape, did not care. The worst poison is not that which is on the end of an arrow heading towards a warrior because he knows the arrow itself could end his life. Rather, it is that which is slipped into a sweet and given to a child, who does not suspect its presence even when he/she becomes ill after eating it" I told him.
I gave him a moment to process what I had said and, to his credit, it appeared to sink in quickly "Indeed. I certainly fell for it. It appears that I have a lot of reflecting to do. I am, however, surprised that you haven't scolded me for running from battle" he replied, looking somewhat wary.
"Paris, you proved your inability to fight in front of not one but two armies. The soldiers on both sides will be sharing that tale for as long as a single one of them remains alive. Even if I wished to, I could not humiliate you more than you have already humiliated yourself. But you know that already" I pointed out, placing a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.
"Yes I do" he said bitterly then gently lifted my hand from his shoulder and took it between his own, turning it so that the palm was up. He gently ran his fingertips over my palm and fingers, feeling the calluses that were fading rapidly because I had not hunted since the war began. "You must be going stir crazy" his voice was soft and it was very much like him to change the subject but, for once, I let it pass.
"I am but I've been preoccupied with worrying and trying not to be strangled by a god of war" I muttered and his face paled "has he returned since...?"
"This morning. But I think I frightened him"
His expression was understandably suspicious "you...what?"
"He appeared in my room and, I think I went temporarily insane because I kissed him. Afterwards, however, he looked frightened and disappeared"
"I can understand that. Kissing you frightened me as well" Paris remarked
"Yes but you probably thought my cousin was going to lynch you when she found out"
"No, I..." he protested, sounding almost breathless, his dark eyes becoming wide "I was afraid because it felt like I had been burned".
There was an eerie stillness to the air when I woke the next morning and my limbs felt oddly heavy, as though there was a stone attached to each of them. This is not a good omen I thought, instinctively aware that something was amiss.
The previous night, once the prayers were done and Hektor had spoken to thank the families of soldiers who had died in that day's battle, we had gone back inside only to have a Priam call him to a military council. "I will inform Andromache that you've been delayed" I had told him before he could even open his mouth and he had squeezed my hand gratefully before following his father. Deep in my mind, I knew that the unsettling quiet in the city was directly related to that council because, at this time, the soldiers would normally have been readying for battle and the streets would be filled with their voices and the clanking of armor.
I bathed and dressed quickly then went down to the dining hall to find that it was half empty. The king, my cousin, Polyxena, Paris, Helen and the wives of the noblemen were there but noblemen themselves and the high ranking members of the military were not, nor was Hektor. After greeting the king and taking Astyanax from my cousin so that she could eat without difficulty, I silently walked to my own seat and sat down just as the servants brought out the morning meal. After the little prince had been born and I was put in charge of his care, I had quickly become accustomed to eating with one hand.
I then took him for his walk and returned him to my cousin before going to the makeshift temple to perform my duties to my goddess. I spent the vast majority of the morning there before a lot of noise and the voices of men signaled that the army was returning. At that, I felt a small spark of hope blossom in me and I dashed from the apothecary, where I had finished mixing incense for the evening offering, to the altar chamber. Had they succeeded in driving the Greeks away? Was that why they had returned so early?
Just as I rounded the side of the statue, Hektor looked over and our eyes met "Lady Althea. I need to speak with Ismena in private, if her duties are finished for now" he said and my stomach dropped into my feet. That was not a good sign. He looked tense, on edge, and strangely resigned, as if his fate had suddenly been made clear to him and he could not prevent its occurrence, and I looked to Althea who also appeared uneasy. "Of course" she said then turned to me "you are relieved of your duties for the day, Ismena".
I know not what she saw in Hektor that I, as of yet couldn't, but she bowed her head to him "fare thee well, Prince of Troy, wherever your path may lead" she said then a tear dripped down her cheek and I felt as if someone had poured ice water over me.
Althea never cried.