by JJ Hilton
Was there no hope for this once mighty city, Andromache thought, as she listened to the princesses discussing Helen’s fate as if it would be so simple to keep her in the dungeons far beneath them and pray for peace.
* * *
Helenus did not seek power or glory for himself, yet he found himself accused of such things as Diephobus pointed the finger of accusation upon him before the council.
“You sought to keep secrets from this council,” he cried, “Did you not wish me to conceal the fact that Helen was carrying a royal heir from these men before us?”
Helenus swallowed his anger down, for he knew that anger would not serve him.
“You agreed to such actions until the truth of it could be established,” Helenus reminded him, voice tight with frustration.
“Yet I was the one who informed the council of that which you claim I sought to hide from them?” Diephobus asked, feigning righteousness. It was enough to make Helenus want to laugh with the ludicrousness of it all, though he dare not. “Do you deny this?”
“I thought only of protecting Helen until the truth had been established.”
“That is to be your confession, then,” Diephobus said.
The council exchanged looks, and Helenus shook his head, for he knew that his brother sought to discredit him and dismiss him from the council. Now that Priam was confined to his chambers, the councilmen all sought to rule the city for themselves.
“You did not abide the rules of this council,” Diephobus stated, and Helenus knew that his suspicions had been right. “As such, I vote for his instant dismissal.”
“This is preposterous!” Helenus cried.
“Brother, I seek only to dismiss you,” Diephobus said, “And that is only because you are my dear brother, otherwise I would be demanding your arrest and imprisonment.”
Polites and Laocoon looked disquieted, but Antenor nodded in agreement, and Helenus wondered if the man was indeed scheming with Diephobus for power.
“And you sought to betroth yourself to Helen, did you not?” Diephobus asked.
“Only when you suggested marrying her for yourself!”
“Alas, I am not the one whose reputation is in question,” Diephobus shrugged, eyes narrowing. “Did you seek to keep Helen in Troy so that you might marry her?”
“No,” Helenus protested. “Did you?”
Diephobus shook his finger in his direction.
“These are indeed most grievous accusations,” Polites said, stepping forward and facing Helenus. Helenus did not like his tone, though he trusted him slightly more than Diephobus. “Even now, Helen awaits trial for her crimes in the dungeons.”
“I know,” Helenus nodded. “And I do not think she deserves imprisonment. She is still grieving for her husband, our brother, and for her unborn child.”
Diephobus and Antenor exchanged a look, and Helenus wondered if the rumours that Helen claimed the fall had been caused by someone who sought to harm her child were true, and if these two men were involved.
“I have heard enough,” Antenor said in his rasping tones. “He should be dismissed from the council, for he has neglected his duty to us and as such cannot be amongst us.”
“I second that,” Diephobus said at once.
Polites lowered his head, and Helenus willed him to stand up for him, but Polites too agreed with the two men before him. Of all the council, only Laocoon did not offer his thoughts, but it mattered not, for the majority had spoken and Helenus’ fate had been sealed.
“You will no longer attend our meetings,” Diephobus said, feigning disappointment at delivering such a verdict. “And your title of General shall be suspended, pending further discussion.”
Helenus found himself dismissed from the council chambers. He did not feel remorse, but frustration overwhelmed him, and fear, too – for without him, how long could it be before Diephobus took over the council and declared himself as ruler of Troy?
* * *
Andromache listened to Helenus with a growing sense of dread in her chest.
“They cannot dismiss you from the council,” she protested, “It is for your father to decide who should offer him counsel.”
“Yet my father remains hidden away in his chambers,” Helenus sighed.
“Diephobus must surely seek power for himself,” Andromache said. It had been a thought in her mind for a long while now, but now she was convinced of the fact. “He sought Helen’s hand in marriage and now she does not carry an heir, he locks her away.”
“I do not doubt that he was behind her arrest, in some way or another,” Helenus conceded. “Yet I do not believe he has put aside thoughts of marriage to her. He did not only seek to control her heir, but he contemplates her rightful throne in Sparta with greedy eyes.”
“The man has no shame!” Andromache shook her head.
Helenus sat across the table from her in her chambers, and Andromache was pleased that he had come to her, even though the tidings he had brought with him were not pleasant. It was the first time since he had mentioned marriage with Helen that he had come to her, and she realised only now how much she had missed their discussions.
“What will become of the council without your presence on it?” Andromache asked, anxiety gripping her once more. She wished once more that Hector were still alive, for she was sure he would know how to handle such behaviour from Diephobus. “If Diephobus rules the council, he rules the city by proxy, and he will surely seek to proclaim himself king.”
“That is so,” Helenus nodded. “And, of course –” He trailed off, bowing his head.
“He will not allow Astyanax to retain his title of Heir Apparent,” Andromache finished for him, for she had thought of the same consequence when Helenus had informed her of what had transpired in the council meeting. “What will become of me?”
“I do not know,” Helenus answered honestly. “I will protect you.”
“Diephobus surely plots against me and Astyanax, as he plots against you.”
“I suppose that if he cannot marry Helen, he will turn his attentions upon you,” Helenus said, and Andromache wondered if she detected a jealous overtone to his words, for when she looked at him he looked away, a blush creeping upon him. “That way he would not have to risk the ire of the people, for he could rule through Astyanax, as he is still too young to rule in his stead.”
“I would not allow such a state of affairs,” Andromache said at once, her skin crawling at the prospect of marriage to Diephobus.
“If Diephobus rules, you may have no alternative,” Helenus said grimly.
Andromache shuddered at the thought and she felt tears stinging in her eyes. She willed herself not to cry, nor show weakness. Helenus hurried from his chair and knelt before her at once, trying to soothe her. Andromache drew away and retreated to the balcony, but Helenus followed her. He caught her by the arm and turned her, lifting his hands to her face. With a gentle thumb, he wiped her tears away.
“You do not have to fear,” he said. “I will not let any harm come to you or Astyanax.”
Andromache tried to smile but found she could not. Helenus opened his arms and she allowed him to embrace her, and she felt safe as his arms wrapped about her and held her to him. She could feel the warmth of him through their robes, and as she thought she heard the rapid beating of his heart, she had to admit to herself that it could have been her own.
He held her for a long moment and when his arms slid from her, the couple looked at each other for a long moment. His eyes were on hers and Andromache felt powerless to look away from him. For a moment she thought that Helenus might kiss her, but then he pulled his gaze from hers and made his excuses to leave.
When Helenus had left her chambers, Andromache fell upon her bed, feeling exhausted, not only from Diephobus’ scheming but from the intensity of the look that had passed between her and Helenus. She brought Hector back to her mind so that she might not forget that Hector was the only man she could ever love.
* * *
When news of Helenus’ dismissal from the council of Troy reached the city’s allies, disagreement arose within their already beleaguered ranks. King Memnon of Ethiopia and Queen Penthesilia of the Amazons had both been slain and though the armies they had brought to the city’s defence with them had remained, much debate now ensued as to whether they should remain any longer. Their numbers were much depleted after years in battle and with Helenus no longer commanding the armies and rumour rife of King Priam’s madness and the plotting of his council, their numbers soon dwindled further as regiments departed.
Diephobus did not greet this news eagerly and he cursed them as the last of Troy’s allies departed from the gates, leaving the city once more alone in its war against the Greeks.Though it was with this bad news that he greeted his council, he did not linger on the tidings he had imparted to them, for he had more serious matters to bring to their attention.Now that Helenus was no longer a member of the council, he had found his power and influence over the other councillors greatly increased, but there was still a threat to his absolute power within the council chambers. Polites had sided with him in many matters, but he was stubborn and staunch in his insistence that Helen should be returned to Menelaus, and Diephobus did not seek such plans, for he still wished to marry the golden widow, and he knew that Polites would not agree to such an affront to his sensibilities.
The risk was too great, even though he was sure that he could persuade Laocoon to vote in his favour against Polites, for if Polites came to suspect that Diephobus had plotted and schemed - not in the council’s interests but his own - then he would likely seek to reinstate Helenus to the council and Diephobus could think of nothing more damaging now that he had so firmly and brutally isolated this brother.
He had thought long and hard of how he could get rid of Polites, and it could not be done in the same way as Antimachus had been, for Polites was his brother and a royal prince. As such, Diephobus had put much thought into this and he knew the time had come to strike, for Polites had reignited discussion of what was to be done about Helen.
Before he could do such a thing, however, the council meeting was interrupted, and Diephobus at first, upon hearing cries outside the doors, suspected that Helenus had come to make accusations of his own against him. Perhaps this would be what he had been waiting for, he thought,; this way he could strip Helenus of all his remaining titles and throw him into the dungeons to think upon his loyalties too.
He was sorely disappointed then when King Priam swept into the room. His beard was clean, his walk steady and his face set in a determined manner. There was no hint of the rumoured madness about his father as he approached.Laocoon and Polites dropped to their knees, and Diephobus did too, for it was expected of him.
“I have heard of much trouble within this room,” Priam greeted them. “It pains me to see my council in such discord.”
“My king –” Diephobus began, but Priam raised a hand he fell silent.
Helenus entered the room too, his eyes focused on Diephobus, anger blazing within them.
“I have reinstated all of Helenus’ titles,” Priam stated. Diephobus tried to keep his composure, faced with Helenus’ barely concealed triumph. “And I wish to bring an immediate end to this prolonged matter of Helen’s future.”
“I have given the matter much thought,” Diephobus nodded.
“She will be returned to Menelaus,” Priam cut across him as if he had not spoken. “I have sent a messenger to the Greek camp with my terms for negotiation.”
Diephobus opened his mouth to protest, but he knew his father’s word was final. He had been so close to claiming power and now it had crashed down upon him.
Chapter Thirteen
Menelaus in Troy
King Priam’s sudden and authoritative return from his madness had disconcerted many within the palace, though for Andromache she felt only relief, not wondering for a moment how his madness had been overcome, only that he remained in power and in doing so prevented Diephobus and those who sought power for themselves from succeeding.
Andromache, grateful as she was for the king’s rule once more, felt sadness that Helen would soon be departing from the city to be returned to her rightful husband King Menelaus. With such plans underfoot, King Priam had sought to do everything in his power to proclaim that Paris and Helen’s marriage had in the end not been sanctioned by the gods and as such Helen was still married to Menelaus. Though everyone within the palace knew that he did this only to encourage Menelaus to agree to the peace terms the king wished to impose upon Helen’s return, many took to this story with eagerness, for Helen’s successful return to her husband would bring about peace, and the people longed for it.
One who was not pleased to have his father returned to health was Diephobus, and he swept about the palace with irritation, a scowl upon his face. Andromache was careful to avoid the man. Helenus remained suspicious of him; and for good reason, Andromache thought, for the brother had sought to claim the throne for himself. Helenus’ titles and authority had been returned to him by his father, and Diephobus seemed determined to do everything in his power to disregard Helenus, even in the king’s presence.
A messenger had been sent from the city to King Menelaus, setting forth King Priam’s wishes for a peaceful resolution to the war that had claimed so many men from both sides. It was two days before King Menelaus sent a messenger back with his response.
King Priam’s face was bright as he raised a toast in the great hall that evening.
“I have some most wonderful news,” he said, when silence had fallen upon the people before him. Andromache listened, anxious. “This afternoon I received a messenger sent from King Menelaus with his response to my own messages. He has agreed to immediate discussions in respect of bringing about an end to the war, and to Helen’s return.”
Applause filled the hall and Andromache saw many weeping with joy, and cheering went up from the back of the hall. Andromache glanced upon the royals’ faces; many were delighted - only Diephobus seemed not to relish the thought. Helenus too looked troubled, though Andromache felt sure that it was due his distrust of Menelaus and Agamemnon rather than the thought of an end to the fighting.
It was indeed good news, Andromache thought as the applause died down and Priam set forth his plans to send for King Menelaus so that he might join them in the palace and negotiate the peace terms in comfortable surroundings. It would mean Helen would surely suffer, Andromache mused, but what was one person’s suffering compared to the suffering of thousands? She once more thought of the prophecy Cassandra had foretold of Paris and shuddered. Surely, she thought, Helen leaving the city was for the best, and she realised only then how desperate she was for peace and an end to these difficult times.
* * *
The dungeons beneath the royal palace were dark despite the torches that hung in brackets upon the stone walls. The narrow passages and even smaller cells were carved into the rock beneath the ground itself and as such they were impenetrable, escape impossible except through the entrance, which was guarded every hour, day or night.
It was down this dark corridor that Andromache now walked, shoulders stooped slightly for the ceiling sloped down the further beneath the palace she went. Each cell was cast in darkness and she could not make out if they were occupied or not, unless the captive was pressed against their prison bars, pleading at her as she passed.
She quickened her pace, the smell of damp and faeces and despair thick in the air, and she wondered why Helen had been put in a cell in such depths, for she had always believed that only the most dangerous prisoners were kept in these cells, so far from light and fresh air. She thought of the crimes Helen was accused of – and of the war she had brought about – and wondered if perhaps she was the most dangerous captive in these dungeons after all.
When she reached Helen’s cell she picked a flaming torch off the nearest wall bracket and held it aloft so that she might see into the recesses of the cell.
“Who is there?” Helen’s voice called, eyes blinded by the sudden light, for she must have grown accustomed to the darkness during her imprisonment, Andromache thought.
Andromache lowered the torch and looked upon the golden widow. Helen’s hair was an untidy nest, unwashed and unkempt, and her nightdress was the one she had been wearing when Polites and his guards had dragged her from her bed, though it was now stained. The cell smelled just as the others, and Andromache felt pity for the woman once a mighty queen now reduced to sleeping in this cramped, dirty cell with its foul odours.
Helen looked at her, her eyes still blinking in the light from the flames. She came hesitantly to the bars and Andromache did not blame her for being uncertain.
“I wish you no harm,” Andromache said. “I only wished to see how you fare.”
Helen let out a shrill laugh, bitter and mocking, Andromache thought.
“You wish to see me fallen so low?” Helen asked, lip curling in jeer.
“I did not wish this fate on you, nor did I play any part in it,” Andromache said, unsurprised but hurt that the woman could think her capable of wishing this ill treatment on another.
“I do not know whether to believe you or not,” Helen said, brushing a tangle of golden hair from her face. “I have no one to trust, no one to help me.”
Andromache was silent for a moment.
“You will not be kept here forever,” Andromache said.
“It already feels that I have,” Helen sniggered. “I am alone in this dark, lonely, evil place with only the rats and the bugs for company, and they only stay so that they may feast upon me when I am dead.”
“The king is returned now,” Andromache said. “He is discussing what is to become of you.”
“Become of me?” Helen asked. “You people think to decide my fate, yet I am Queen of Sparta and Princess of Troy. I alone decide what fate I will accept and which I will not.” Andromache wondered if the golden widow had truly succumbed to madness. Helen looked into her eyes and Andromache felt a flicker of unease at the look upon the woman’s face. She did not know what to make of such an expression, and shivered.