by JJ Hilton
“Indeed, you are wise to notice,” Diephobus smiled. “Yet unwise to meddle so.”
His voice carried only the slightest of threats, but Antenor fell silent and retreated from the room nonetheless. He had lived to a great age by not asking too many questions, he thought, as he left Diephobus alone with his scheming.
Diephobus watched the old man leave, shuffling on his ancient legs, back stooped as he walked from sight. He had bought the old man’s loyalty in this matter of Helen, and now he needed to do the same with others, yet that was wherein his challenge lay.
He could count upon Helenus to vote as he did, for Helenus was a good man, and good men were so easy to manipulate and to predict. Of Antimachus, Polites and Laocoon, he only needed one of them to succumb to his bribes and then the council could agree that Helen should stay in the city.
He would think on it carefully, for he did not want Helenus to hear of his plotting, for he would know at once that Diephobus did not only seek safety for Helen and her child. No, of course, Diephobus thought, what true man would? He wanted her to stay in Troy for another reason entirely, and if he acted wisely, cautiously, now he would succeed.
The golden widow was not only to be mother to an heir, but she was also, in her own right, Queen of Sparta and monarch of all those rich lands. He had never considered marriage, but now he sought it eagerly with this beautiful golden queen.
Helen was a great prize, Diephobus thought. Paris had seen it and snatched her, but now he was dead, and Diephobus was wise enough to both claim a prize and keep it.
Chapter Twelve
Diephobus
Helenus was weary of his brother for he knew that he schemed, though he did not know to what end. Of his council members, he did not which of them he could trust nor in whom he could confide, so he found himself increasingly seeking the advice and soothing nature of Andromache, for she alone seemed to understand the precariousness of the city’s current state and she shared his concern for the future. He felt able to speak openly with her, for he trusted her and respected her, and he hoped that she felt the same of him.
The council remained at an impasse, for whilst he, Diephobus and Antenor wished Helen to remain in the safety of Troy, the other three councillors did not. With each passing day the waiting continued, for it would not move forward until somebody changed their stance on the matter and knowing how stubborn each man on the council could be, Helenus did not hold out much hope that matters would be resolved quickly.
It was therefore with great shock that he received news of Antimachus’ death. He had been stabbed in the street as he returned home unaccompanied from the palace. Helenus had known that the streets were growing unruly and dangerous, for without the king’s rule the people grew restless, but he had been shocked all the same by such tidings. Antimachus was a wealthy man and he had liked to display his wealth whilst giving no heed to the poverty that grew within the confines of the city walls. His jewellery had been stolen from upon his wrists and neck and even his expensive robes had been stripped from him, so it was a naked man lying in his own blood that his guard had discovered lying discarded in the street.
Though it was a sad occasion when a councillor died, Helenus could not help but note that this meant good tidings for both Helen and for himself, as now the majority of council members were in favour of keeping Helen safely within the palace, at least for now.
He sometimes wondered if Diephobus might have had a part to play in Antimachus’ death, for surely his brother continued to scheme, but Helenus had no proof of such a thing. He dared not voice his suspicions, even to Andromache, for it was a horrible accusation to give voice to - especially about his own brother, and a royal prince at that.
The man, though a council member, was not mourned widely, for the people despised his vulgarity and he had not been a popular man even amongst his peers.
“Though his death is a great shame,” Diephobus commented, after the council meeting had met and agreed to keep Helen in the city, when he was safely alone in the chambers with Helenus, “It is true that it has proved of great advantage to our cause.”
“It is a sadness that it should be so,” Helenus said, remembering his suspicions and willing himself not to think of such a thing, for surely even one as scheming as Diephobus could not be capable of such a cruelty!
“Nevertheless, we have succeeded in persuading the council to keep Helen in the city, at least for the time being,” Diephobus said. “Though we should think of her safety, for there are many who still bear her ill will and do not rejoice at the thought of her staying.”
“She lives within the palace and she is watched closely,” Helenus said.
“Yet still she sleeps alone, undefended and vulnerable.”
“We can have guards posted outside her chambers,” Helenus suggested.
“Guards can be bribed to do ill will,” Diephobus shook his head. “And it is not just physical harm than can befall a woman in her position. Perhaps it is time we thought on the matter of her remarrying.”
“Remarrying?” Helenus repeated. “And I suppose you would seek to suggest yourself for such a task?”
“I have never married,” Diephobus shrugged, though his indifference was belied by the eagerness within his eyes. “And it is true; I seek a marriage, though I had not hoped to find such a mutually beneficial one as this would surely be.”
“Indeed,” Helenus said, eyes narrowing. He remained distrustful of his brother. “It is not only you that has not been married; I too am unmarried, and am a prince as you are.”
“I am the eldest,” Diephobus argued. “And I have a strong claim to the throne.”
“Our father is not passed, and Astyanax is the Heir Apparent,” Helenus chastised him for his borderline treasonous words. “And I am General of the Trojan Armies.”
Diephobus’ smile faltered, and Helenus knew that he had hoped to run unchallenged for Helen’s hand in marriage. He wondered if perhaps his brother’s scheming had all been so that he might marry the golden queen.
Now that Helenus thought of the prospect of marriage to the widow, he himself felt allured to her and he did not wish his brother, so duplicitous and untrustworthy, to be responsible for the safety of such a valuable and vulnerable woman.
“Perhaps this is a matter for the council,” Helenus suggested.
Diephobus’ eyes gleamed for a moment, and he shrugged, sweeping from the room. Helenus watched him go and wondered if Diephobus had secret allegiances within the council that he had yet to uncover. He knew he must be weary of such a man.
He retreated from the council room and came across Andromache in the corridor.
“I have just seen Diephobus storming away,” she said, shooting a look back over her shoulder. “He was his usual charming self,” she jested.
“He is just sour, for he seeks Helen’s hand in marriage,” Helenus shook his head. Andromache’s lips pursed, for he knew she did not like the man.
“And why would that prospect so sour a man?” Andromache asked.
“No, do not misunderstand me, it is marriage he seeks,” Helenus said. “It is just that he had hoped not to be opposed in such a plan, and yet I do not wish them to be married.”
“Helen would be safer with a husband,” Andromache suggested.
“That is why I offered myself as a suitor,” Helenus told her.
Surprise came to Andromache’s face, and he thought something else too – a flash of jealousy, perhaps? – and then it was gone and Andromache was making her excuses to go about her business. Helenus watched her go and thought of his strong feelings for her. Yet Andromache was safe enough in her position, whereas Helen was not so in hers – and Diephobus seemed to have targeted Helen for his attentions – and that put her in more danger. Now that Paris was dead and she carried his heir, Helen needed protection.
* * *
Andromache thought on what Helenus had told her in the corridor outside the council chambers. It was true that Helen needed
a marriage if she was to be protected from being sent back to King Menelaus, but now that she knew it was being considered, Andromache felt uncertain as to whether Helen staying in Troy was truly the best thing for their city. It would mean that a treaty was out of the question, and that too meant that war would continue – and for so many years it had raged! – and it would surely affect Astyanax, for though he remained Heir Apparent, Priam’s madness, could easily change such favourable circumstances. If Helen were to be married to a royal prince, and already carrying another royal prince’s heir, she surely would be held in higher regard, and her child regarded more worthy of rulership than Astyanax.
The thought concerned Andromache, but other thoughts concerned her more. If Helen’s marriage was to be discussed, surely it would initiate talk of when she would have to marry again. She had been in widowhood for a long while now and though she did not wish to dishonour Hector by remarrying, there were others she was sure who would welcome chance to marry her and become the lawful father of the Heir Apparent in doing so. She would have to tread carefully, she thought, for her future was intertwined with Helen’s, she was coming to realise, and her son’s future intertwined with Helen’s heir.
How she longed for Hector to be here! He would know what to do, wise as he was, and he would not hesitate in doing what was good and what was right, but yet she was here alone, and had nobody to protect her own interests, nor those of her son, except for herself. She would keep a close eye on the situation, she decided, for any decision that was made over Helen would surely affect her too.
She also found herself thinking of Helenus, for she had been surprised that he had suggested himself for marriage to Helen. Yet the more she thought of it the more reasonable it sounded, for he was an unwed man and surely had desires that a wife could fulfil. Andromache had come to regard him as a close confidante and if he were to marry Helen, surely these meetings would come to an end. They would no longer be able to speak so openly, for his interests would be aligned with Helen’s and those of her child’s, whilst hers were surely in direct opposition, as mother to the Heir Apparent.
Yet as the weeks passed and no mention of a betrothal for Helen with either Diephobus or Helenus, Andromache began to wonder whether Helen had perhaps refused both offers of marriage. Perhaps she too thought of how it would put them in opposition to each other, or perhaps she had simply not yet learned of such plans for her future. Helen had certainly been told of the plans for her to stay in Troy, which had greatly relieved her, even though she seemed no happier than she had done previously.
If anything, Helen appeared more strained when Andromache set eyes upon her and though she longed to question the golden widow as to what troubled her, she dare not seek her confidences - not when there was a chance that they could soon find their hopes and futures so opposed.
Diephobus too seemed frustrated, haughtier than his usual self, and Andromache grew convinced that his overtures of marriage had been dismissed by Helen, which gave Andromache a sense of pleasure. Helenus had not mentioned the plans for marriage any further either, but nor did he seek her confidences, which made Andromache wonder if perhaps he wished to keep her from knowing what was happening in the council chambers.
It was not long before Ilisa and Philomena heard rumour from other maids working within the palace that a servant had seen Diephobus and Helen consorting in private; though the witness had been unable to eavesdrop and hear any of what was being discussed between them before Diephobus had swept from the room.
It gave her something to muse over, however, and Andromache longed for confirmation or denial – anything so that she was not left to wonder and fear for what may be happening in other corners of the palace.
Then came the terrible news of what had befallen Helen. Ilisa rushed into her chambers, startling Andromache, but she saw panic on her maid’s face.
“Helen has lost her baby,” she said, face pale with the shock. “Philomena found her at the foot of a staircase near her chambers.”
Andromache rose at once, following Ilisa out of the chambers and going in search of the golden widow, listening to her maid as they hurried along the corridors.
“The princess was hysterical,” Ilisa told her, “And there was blood – so much! I think she must have slipped atop the stairs, though she was crying that somebody meant for her to fall.”
Andromache did not like to think of such terrible things, though she had heard of worse befalling women carrying heirs, and so many in the palace might not wish for Paris’ heir to survive. So many wanted Helen to be returned to Menelaus and it was commonly known that she was saved and kept here for the child she carried. And then there were Diephobus and Helenus, who both sought her hand in her marriage. Even herself, she thought – for Helen’s heir was a threat to Astyanax – though she would never have deigned to wish harm upon an unborn child.
Upon arriving at Helen’s chambers, one of the golden widow’s maids came out to greet them, her eyes tearful and her demeanour cool.
“Helen wishes to receive no visitors,” the maid said. “She is not well.”
“I only wish to see how she fares,” Andromache insisted.
The maid blushed, unwilling to argue with a woman of her status, but bowing her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said, bowing. “But Helen has given her orders; nobody is to enter.”
Andromache left, deflated, wondering if Helen’s suspicions over who might have wanted to harm her unborn child had fallen upon her. The thought chilled her, but Andromache could not blame Helen – for in her place, she too would trust no one.
* * *
It was a week before Andromache was permitted entrance to the chambers to see Helen and the news of the death of the unborn heir had spread about the city. Helen had not left her chambers since, having her food brought to her by her maid, sick with grief and suspicion.
Andromache was shocked by the appearance of the woman who lay upon the pillows before her, for Helen had lost weight and her hair was lustreless, dark smudges beneath her eyes.
“Helen, what has become of you?” Andromache asked at once, shaking her head sadly, for only a mother could understand the devastation of such a loss, even if it were just the thought of such a thing. “You must not allow yourself to succumb to your grief.”
“Someone sought to harm my child,” Helen said, her voice numb. “I do not know who nor the exact reason, and I do not know who to trust.”
“You can trust me,” Andromache insisted.
Helen’s lips trembled and she let out a sob.
Andromache went to her, arms reaching out to comfort her, but the doors burst open and two guards entered, swords in hands, and Polites entered between them, his face sour and registering no pity as he looked upon the bedridden widow.
“Helen, you must come with us,” Polites said.
“She is grieving,” Andromache protested. “She needs rest!”
She eyed the guards uneasily.
“Helen, you are under arrest for treason against the king and the city of Troy,” Polites said solemnly, ignoring the gasps of Andromache and the maid. Helen alone remained stoical, steadily crying into her hands. “I have come here with these guards of the palace to escort you to the dungeons where you will await trial for these named crimes.”
“What treason do you speak of?” Andromache demanded.
Polites ignored her and nodded to the guards when Helen made no attempt to move from her bed. The guards moved forwards and Andromache stepped away as they grabbed Helen about her ankles and dragged her from the bed, the sheets tearing in their rough handedness. Helen let out a scream and fought against them, but the two men were far stronger and subdued her with ease. One held her ankles and the other her wrists and together they hoisted her from the bed and across the room, though she writhed and cried in their grip.
Polites left the room after them, leaving Andromache and Helen’s maid speechless and alone in the room. Andromache did not know what to think a
s Helen’s screams echoed through the corridors as she was dragged to the dungeon.
* * *
The news of Helen’s arrest was met with delight by the majority of the palace, for she had not been a popular figure, though the charges that had been brought against the widow were often exaggerated as talk spread throughout the palace and then beyond to the city at large. Andromache did not know what to think; from two royal princes wishing to marry her to losing her unborn heir and being imprisoned in such a short space of time. It was hard for Andromache to understand and yet nobody seemed forthcoming with explanations.
She wondered who had sanctioned Helen's arrest, for she felt sure that the council could not have condoned such an action – Helenus and Diephobus had both wished to marry her such a short time ago! – and she could not think what could have persuaded them to turn against her so. Polites had arrived when she had been arrested, and she knew this prince to have wished for her return to Menelaus, but he could not have acted alone.
Andromache sensed tension return to the palace, for the arrest of a royal princess, the widow of a prince – and so recently carrying a royal heir in her womb – was not something that the household was accustomed to. Even though she had not been liked, it disconcerted other royals and nobles, for they knew that if Helen, such a prominent figure, could be sent to the dungeons, then this could be the fate of anyone.
“Now she no longer carries Paris’ heir, what should we care what becomes of her?” Creusa asked at the high table as they dined. “She is no longer a matter for our concern.”
“The damage has been done,” Cassandra sighed. “Whether she stays or goes, the war will not be undone.”
Queen Hecuba remained silent, staring wistfully at the empty seat where her husband had once been seated and who now – Andromache suspected – sat by the window in his chambers, babbling regrets of the past and delusional in his grief and madness.