Chapter 3: Agamemnon's Court
The King Menelaus stared down at me from his throne of gold. His eyes were dark, full of menace. My wrists burned from the rubbing of the shackles, now twisting my arms behind my back. A guard stood beside me, the tip of his sword grazing the skin of my back. I stared at the ground, not willing to look the king in the eye. My hair was torn from the ribbons and thread holding it up, flowing down in curls around my moist cheeks. This was the first time in five years that I cried. I cried for my life, for Troy and for the betrayal of Hector that I knew I would soon be led into. Unless I could deceive into thinking I was a spy, I was as good as dead kneeling in front of the great king. His beard half hid the scowl on his face, the blond hue of his hair setting off the tan glow of his skin. He wore a crown of gold, and robes of regal, the color crimson that Helen had worn yesterday. He had eyes that could be loving, caring but now they were like flaming torches that easily scorched through flesh as they glared at me. The servant girl sat in a corner sobbing, a red welt forming on her cheek as she tried to escape the guard's grasp from before, only to fail and scream. She pointed her lame finger at me, wriggling from the man's firm hold.
"She knows of the disappeared Queen. She spies for the Prince Hector," she wailed, her finger the blade of truth, though she only guessed of my life to get herself out of a few floggings. Me, I preferred them over the punishments of the past, and would not whimper for freedom. Menelaus held his face high, though the hurt feelings of his lost prize were pasted all over his face. He folded his hands and rested his chin on them, trying his best to keep his temper down. I faked a terrified look, which only led him to the feeling of more guilt if he sent me into tears.
"She says you are spy to Prince Hector." He spoke with a voice of common kings, the ones that led men into babbled sentences and women gapping. I lifted my head, shaking the blond curls out of my face. The girl eyed me strangely, as if she wanted to discover the secrets I kept hidden in my heart. She pictured me giving out over the action of me being a found spy, but I refused to let her win, I refused to accede to her and the king.
"Appearances can be deceiving my lord." The words that I lived by spread through my lips and to his ears. Eyes of stone turned to beady anger, but he allowed me to continue. "True I have lived my whole life on Troy's soil, but my heart and loyalty does not rest on the King, Priam and his sons." My lies tore my body to pieces, I begged silently for Hector's forgiveness, caring not what Paris or Priam would think. Knowing them they would congratulate me for getting myself out of this mess with my true honor still on their son and brother, I thought bluntly.
Menelaus heaved a sigh, turning his face away from me and to the girl. With a wave of his hand he dismissed her. She bowed weakly and waddled out sulking at her crushing defeat of not seeing me punished for her "lies". Likewise he did the same with the guards, including the one the beheld death scrapping my back. The guards of the great king protested but he heard none of it and let down his peremptory hand only when the last man retreated out of the room. His rugged face swiveled back to me, the years of war and service to Sparta showing on his face. He was tired, weary and need of the peace Paris had disembodied into scattered pieces. He again rested his face in his folded, intertwined fingers.
"You expect me to believe that you are not following Hector's or Priam's orders? How can I?" he asked with amusement, as if I could give no answer but the truth. His stout body finally seemed to relax, the tension eased as he thought the answers to all my hidden seducing ways was about to open to him at this very instant. Instead I bore the tried muscles in my body, carrying the chains of iron as I crawled closer to the throne that sat in the great hall with its pillars and gleaming torches and light, aiding the majestic tapestries on the wall. One wall was complete torn down, the pillars supporting the ceiling, the wall replaced with a balcony that led to the cool air sprouting from the sea and overlooking the city.
"No my lord, I expect you to believe that the one thing I want most is to see Troy fall because of Paris' crude actions. The boy is unfit to be considered royal and I have spent some time in the city learning of his ways, mastering his movements through the priestess Briseis. I have been welcomed into the court as one of hers and through doing so I have learned of the love between Helen and Paris. With all do respect my lord; it would be a highest honor for you to allow me to be your spy as you travel to Troy. I have a relationship with Paris that no man could achieve walking into the city's gates. I could get the information you need and will aid you as much as possible." The words did not seem to convince Menelaus, who stared at the floor in wonder and thought. I waited for a reply, staring out at the city, great and powerful. Another remark snapped into my head. "My lord," I began. "I believe that the right thing to do is to claim back what was stolen from you. No thief should walk around openly with his treasures." That seemed to hit the king in his heart perfectly. He lifted his face high, grunting as he stood up and bringing me to my feet.
"What is your name girl?" he asked. I plainly said my name, which he whispered again, savoring it. "Aldreana," he began. "I shall order new clothes to be brought to show you are in my service. Now, come with me, there is much that must be done." He noticed my shackled arms and reddened wrists. "Those will be removed as well," he mused. Gathering himself he opened the doors wide, revealing the guards who stayed behind for orders. At the sight of their lord they rose to their feet, straightening their spears and armor. Menelaus looked at each one with eyes of authority.
"Ready your men and gather the ships. We sail for Agamemnon's court." He stood silent for some time, as if he would question me again. But when the men bowed and started for the halls and stairs, he nodded to himself, acknowledging that I had caught him. Inside I smiled with pleasure at my victory, but my face showed mercy for the king, as if this was the only way to get back his lost queen, my words holding the false truth. The voice of Paris rang in my ears. …he is a betrayer…
The doors to the Agamemnon's palace opened wide, revealing a hall where the great king waited. Menelaus, looking over his shoulder, checking on me, but I was awed at the marble pillars, the smell of freshly cut flowers, the men and women who rested on cushions, all heads turning to greet the new visitors. The walls sparkled. The blurred reflection of the horde of royals could be seen, smeared on the walls. And there, in the middle of the hall, stood the huge throne of the great king who had conquered so many parts of Greece, his eyes now set on Troy. His bulk of body was bound by the colorful armor. His graying hair plaited and tied in gold thread. His eyes were always full of humor and mild contempt. He smiled a genuine smile as Menelaus walked forward, leaving me and the group of many guards to follow close behind. I felt around my leather belt for my dagger, placing my hand on the hilt. Instantly memories of my brother washed into my mind, as if the weapon could transport me from all these troubles to those joyous moments. I felt the wool and cotton tickle at my body again. I was dressed in the common clothes of a servant of Sparta, plain red dyed into the fabric. The leather belt and the dagger were the only things I pleaded to keep, Menelaus reluctantly handed them back. My clothes from Troy, the deep blue of an ocean bearing a night sky, were thrown into the fire, the silk chiton and wrap catching fire immediately, dancing flames on my cheeks and face.
Agamemnon stood up with open arms, catching his brother in his warm embrace. I saw his eyes glance at me. I averted them and waited for his glare to pass. He laughed his brother's name in welcome, pulling himself away and looking deep into his brother's face, remembering the sight. He smiled with joy at the sight of Menelaus. Menelaus tweaked a smile, and then his face turned grim, wiping the smile clean from Agamemnon's face. He knew the troubles his brother would speak of. He patted Menelaus' shoulder. Menelaus sighed as he shared the devastating news.
"They have taken Helen from me, right from under my nose. Hector and Paris." He spat the names out, wishing to wring their necks at that very second. Agamemnon looked over his brother to me, I held my face high with dignity, and he smiled at my behavior, amused by it. He turned back to Menelaus. "I want her back." Menelaus finished curtly. Agamemnon grinned, steering his brother back around, his face exact opposite of Menelaus'.
"Of course you want the woman back. But tell me brother, what is in it for me?" he questioned. I rolled my eyes in disgust by the power driven king. Menelaus peered with sad eyes at Agamemnon, as if all the pleasures of the world he would give in return for Helen. "Fight by my side brother and I will give you Troy, the only city left that does not bear your name as the leader. Will you fight by my side?" He raised his strong arm, pulsing with muscle. Agamemnon lowered his eyes to his brother's hand. Then he clasped it firmly, sealing the truce and the pact between them. He threw his body into Menelaus in a lasting embrace, smiling with glee as if Troy was already his.
"I will fight for you brother." He tore himself away, and then laid his sight on me, once again. His eyes filled with lust like the drunken men from the night before. "What of the girl, I have never seen her in your court before Menelaus. Replacing Helen already I see." He grinned at his own sarcasm, but no one did the same. Menelaus scowled, spinning his head around to find me mingled in his guards. He had forgotten about me already.
"She is my spy. She knows her way around Troy's defense and can plot Paris around her finger." I frowned as he replaced my words with disrespect, as if I was nothing more than a whore for Paris and now for him and Agamemnon to gaze and throttle upon. Agamemnon's eyes traveled up and down me, coming lastly to my face that was expressionless. He curved back to his brother as if the king had done something unworthy of remembering.
"She is useless. Let her be on her way. She is doing no more harm than sneaking around with no trouble into men's beds. Let her service be done with as of now, she is no more than a woman to you. She spoke of spying when really she wanted to grab your heart like a sly vixen and twist and turn it to her will and being. Better yet, you could kill her, or throw her into her deepest nightmares." Agamemnon's diatribe made me surprised. I was to be stripped from this duty do quickly, so easily, without punishment. Menelaus hesitated, as if he was bound to my convincing words already. He began to raise his mighty gloved hand when Agamemnon's priest suddenly stormed into the hall. He bowed to the kings, and then began his message.
"My lord as I told you last night, this is to be the greatest war the world has ever seen. As I can see, the rumors about Queen Helen are true as your brother stands before us now." He bowed his head in reverence to the King then continued. "My lord, we need the greatest warrior." Agamemnon's face lost all of the humor and the contempt filled his every pore. He looked grimly at his priest and finally nodded. The priest allowed this nod as an agreement. "Then we have an accord. I will send word for Odysseus to find Achilles and his men immediately. Once they arrive, you can have your golden city, waiting for you with trembling feet as you wash up to their shores. My lord, we could have more than nine hundred ships of men pouring out their service to you." Agamemnon smiled cheerfully. I stood, mouth agape at the sound of the legendary name. Unable to hide or contain my excitement I rushed forward to Menelaus' feet, bowing at his sandals. He dared not shake me off, but refused to look down at me with nothing more than mercy and distaste.
"My lords, please, allow me to go with Achilles," I requested. Both looked awestruck at my words, eyes bulging, one in hilarity and the other in shock. Menelaus shook his immense head, but a hand slapped on his chest stopped him. Agamemnon smiled as a conversation passed only between the brothers from memory. Menelaus bowed and walked away, leaving me with the wrath of his brother.
"If you want to find Achilles by all means do, how you accomplish that without my help or my brother's is something for you to achieve. And believe me, Achilles is not one to be pleased by unwelcome visitors." He crossed his arms over his chest, thinking I would not want to go now. But I nodded in understanding, also acknowledging my leave and spun on my heel, rushing form the room in search of the man they called Odysseus.
My mind whirled with amazement. I could actually come close to the legendary man, the mighty Achilles. I marched out of the palace, down the road to the docks, where boats bobbed up and down in the clear blue water, reflecting the sun's hottest of rays. Fisherman came in with loads of fish in the nets, all depicting different profits for the men. I looked at each enormous ship, taking picks and guesses of which ones could be Odysseus's. The sand was hot, the glass particles heated form the sun, slipping into my shoes and branding my feet with red hot spots. I continued down the hill to the docks, a brisk wind tugging at my hair. I glanced around at the busy atmosphere. My eyes glued to a black cloak, hanging from a rope bearing a ship. It pulled and beckoned to me till I couldn't stand it. Without looking back I ran and caught the cloak in my outstretched hands. I bundled it up in front of me, waiting for the yells to come peeling towards me. But all was silent except for the calls not directed at my stolen item. My words about stolen treasures to the King Menelaus rushed to me like I wave in the sea. I smiled at myself. Was I that predictable, that my words to one person were the exact opposite for me? Walking on, with no remorse to make me return it, I felt a sprinkle of joy for the luck I was granted. With spying comes easy pick pocketing, I thought. I noticed a young man with dark curls walking towards me, carrying a spear on his shoulder.
"Excuse me!" I called, running to him. He stopped and dropped the spear's butt to lean on. He smiled sincerely at me, blushing as he tried straightening his hair. I cared not, his ordinary face offering little attraction to me. His face was pudgy and like a child's though he looked my age. "Can you tell me where Odysseus's ship is? I have a message for him from the King." Another lie didn't hurt and the boy knew nothing of my false words. He shaded his face with his hands as he turned. The he pointed to a ship with a white mast unfurled in the wind. I nodded my thanks and rushed on.
Men began untying the ropes and were about to set off when I claimed the dock my own, pushing past people to get to the ship. I sought a man with short red hair and beard, who pointed to men and barked orders. He was very calm and laidback from first glance. I took him as the man I needed.
"My lord!" I shouted. Recognizing the phrase, the man spun around, placing honorable and friendly eyes on me. He ordered the men to stop, leaping off the boat and coming to me. I stopped, my chest heaving as I caught my breath. He placed his hands at his sides, impatient to be off.
"Another message from King Agamemnon no doubt. Does he want me to bring Achilles back in chains so as not to have a dispute let out between the two?" I grinned, finding his opinion of the accounted distaste between the two men and his sarcastic remarks more appeasing to me then the King's. I shook my head, brushing back damp blond curls and thick hair that plastered it self to my bare shoulders.
"No my lord, I was freed from King Menelaus' service but I was not freed from this war. I wish to join you, to meet Achilles. Please my lord, I would be no bother," I begged, bowing down on my tired knees. Odysseus tapped my arm, allowing me to rise. He considered me greatly, as if I would be a burden when I had already lasted the voyage to Agamemnon's kingdom on my own. He rubbed his chin with his hand as he considered more. Finally he assented and nodded his head.
"Very well, you can come along, but at your own risk." I tipped him my thanks, his eyes fluttered to my dagger. "If I can guess, your dislike for Agamemnon might be the only thing you and Achilles have in common. But as for his cousin…" His sentence trailed off, leaving me to ponder over the discontinued words as I followed him onto his ship. I watched the King of King's city, the kingdom, fade into small dots and squares as the men rowed their way to the Achilles, bearing me along with them, my heart a flutter, my hand still placed on the dagger, tracing my fingers over the engraved designs on the leather bound hilt. But as for his cousin…Somehow, I suddenly felt more connected to this mysterious man then to any other I had met my whole life, even my brother and my leader: Hector.