The Trojan Princess

by JJ Hilton

  “I will let no harm come to him,” Helenus persistently reassured her, though Andromache still thought of how Diephobus had sought to dismiss Helenus and seek power for himself, although at least he seemed distracted in his marriage to Helen, for the time being.

  Diephobus and Helen, though married, had not sought the approval of King Priam, and as such it was a secret that was kept within the palace walls, though Andromache was sure that talk must have spread beyond to the city at large.

  Helenus was insistent that King Priam could still name the marriage as unsanctioned and send Helen back to Menelaus to end the war, but King Priam, in his age and at the behest of his wife, he did not seek to do so and instead wished for Diephobus and Helen to be married in the eyes of the public and set about throwing a marriage ceremony in which the city could share in the celebrations, so that no more rumours may continue.

  Andromache sensed Helenus’ frustration with such a decision, and she knew that many within the palace shared in his disapproval of King Priam’s actions.

  It was a long month as Diephobus and Helen’s public marriage ceremony was prepared and Andromache could not bring herself to soften towards them, for even as the city despaired they shared a bed in Diephobus’ chambers and Helen, free from her cell and with royal titles returned to her, appeared more conceited than even she had before.

  With so much to occupy her mind within the palace, Andromache spared little thought to what was being constructed within the Greek camps on the shoreline, but as the mysterious object took shape she could not help but discuss such matters with her maids, for it was clear to all who looked upon it that the Greeks had built a great wooden horse, far larger than any statue, wooden or otherwise, that Andromache had ever seen.

  She went out upon the ramparts with what seemed to be the entire royal household as a swathe of Greek soldiers dragged the huge wooden horse up the sands towards the city, ropes fraying and men cursing. It was three days before the horse finally stood before the gates, for all of the city to see.

  A messenger called through the gates to the people within the walls.

  “King Menelaus seeks to offer this great statue as a token of his regret for this war, which has claimed so many from both sides and has so shadowed the lives of so many,” the messenger said. “It is a gift for all within the city; for King Priam and the royals, and for the people who have offered their lives to fight for this city. It is a gift for all.”

  The men departed then, returning to their camp, leaving much discussion behind them as to whether or not the huge gift should be accepted. Andromache felt uneasy, for she had heard of King Menelaus’ rage and did not understand why he would grant such a gift.

  “It is for the council to decide,” King Priam proclaimed.

  The horse remained outside the gates, but before the council could converse in their chambers, a great, excited clamour arose from the ramparts. Andromache held her breath as if she dare not believe such a thing was happening.

  Greek ships were sailing from the shore, sails flying in the wind, not one nor two but the whole vast army seemed to be leaving. The camps had been dismantled or simply abandoned, and Andromache watched as they sailed across the sea and out of sight.

  * * *

  There was much to be discussed in the council chambers and yet Diephobus remained quiet as the other men spoke of the mighty wooden horse left at their gate and the departing ships that signalled an end to the war. Though he thought much on both matters, he did not wish to draw attention upon himself, for he knew that he stood on dangerous ground. Having married Helen, he had made himself much hated within the palace, and though his father had strived to stop word of the marriage from spreading out beyond the walls to the city, he knew that people whispered of it in their homes and in the streets.

  He did not regret his marriage; for surely it was advantageous for him to have a wife who could claim the throne of Sparta for her own, and if he had not freed her from the dungeons and married her when he had, she would surely have been sent back to the camps with Menelaus and his hopes for power would have turned to ash. Yet Helenus, already so opposed to him after his attempts to overthrow him and dismiss him from the council, seemed further angered by his actions; and though Diephobus tried to assure himself that it was simply jealousy that Helenus felt – for he too had offered his hand to Helen – he knew that his brother was suspicious of him and he did not like such attentions upon himself.

  “We cannot refuse such a gift,” Polites said of the horse. “Let us accept it; for the Greeks have sailed from our shores, and can now do us no harm.”

  “Yet why do they leave?” Helenus asked. “King Menelaus’ rage was immense when he left the city,” he said, glaring pointedly at Diephobus. “So why would he not wish to avenge himself upon us and look to return home without his wife, whom he has fought for so many years to reclaim?”

  “Let us not try to fathom the mind of such a man,” Laocoon said. “It is surely enough that they have left, is it not?”

  And so the discussions went on for hours more. Antenor was quiet, and Diephobus knew that he did not wish to impose his views upon the council until they had spoken in private, for Antenor spoke only of what Diephobus paid him in gold to speak; his views were whatever Diephobus told him they should be.

  Noting Diephobus’ silence, King Priam turned to him.

  “Have you nothing to say on this matter, as you have been so forthcoming in other matters of late?” he demanded of him.

  Diephobus took a moment to gather his thoughts.

  “I apologize, father, for my mind has been preoccupied of late,” he said, bowing, and ignoring Helenus’ dark looks. “I think it would be wise to be cautious of anything that Menelaus bestows upon us.”

  King Priam nodded.

  “Let us discuss such matters later,” Priam declared. “I am tired of this meeting.”

  So the council was dismissed, but before Diephobus could go to Antenor, Helenus caught his arm and drew him close. Diephobus looked around, but they were quite alone in the council chambers and he looked upon his brother’s scornful eyes, and panic flickered.

  “Take your hands from me,” Diephobus said, his voice unwavering, despite the nerves that he felt at his brother’s look. “I have business to see to.”

  “I have no doubt that you do,” Helenus said, “Is it only Antenor that you bribe with gold to add his vote to your own? Or is Laocoon too on your payroll?”

  Diephobus tried to keep his face expressionless, but his arm trembled and Helenus, still holding it in his grip, felt the tremor for he smiled wickedly.

  “Perhaps I shall see what Antenor has to say about such matters,” Helenus said, removing his hand from his brother’s arm and walking away. “I could bring our father with me, for maybe he will be as interested as I am in what Antenor might be willing to divulge?”

  Helenus departed from the room and Diephobus took a deep breath to calm himself, though his mind flew to dark thoughts at the possibility of King Priam learning of his duplicity. He had no doubt that Helenus, in his anger towards him, would seek to have him thrown in the dungeons.

  No, Diephobus thought, he could not allow Helenus to question Antenor.

  * * *

  Andromache watched Helen approach her upon the ramparts and dismissed her maids, for she did not wish Ilisa and Philomena to hear what may be discussed between them. Helen watched the women pass her, ignoring the looks they gave her, and came to Andromache with head bowed, though Andromache knew she meant none of the respect she sought to convey.

  “Do you have a moment to talk with me?” Helen asked.

  Andromache looked at the woman once more a royal princess and did not know what to make of her. She had tried to reach out to her, yet the woman had done everything in her power to bring about destruction and discord to the city.

  “I have only a moment,” Andromache answered, not wishing to be in the woman’s presence for long. It made her angry and she did not
wish her day to be spoiled.

  “You have heard, I do not doubt, that my marriage is to be celebrated as befits that of a royal prince and a queen?” Helen asked. Andromache did indeed know that there was to be a public ceremony, so that the unsanctioned marriage might be covered up to save the royal family from scandal. At her look, Helen took her assumption to be correct. “The royal princesses do not wish to attend, though I feel sure that they will feel compelled to do so when Diephobus and the king implore upon them the importance of such harmony amongst us.”

  “I do not follow your meaning,” Andromache said. “If the royal princesses do not wish to attend your ceremony, I fail to see what business that is of mine.”

  “I simply wished to convey my hopes, in person, that you will consent to being present at such a public ceremony,” Helen said. Andromache then knew what the princess wanted; she wished for her to attend the ceremony so that the people might know that she supported them, for as mother to the Heir Apparent she represented not only herself but her son, who would one day be king.

  Andromache saw that Helen was anxious, for she needed this marriage to be sanctioned and to be accepted or else she had betrayed the people once more for no gain.

  “I cannot consent to be present at such an occasion,” Andromache said.

  Helen’s lips pursed and anger flickered within her eyes, though Andromache was not afraid of such a woman, not when the palace held her in such disregard.

  “You think to shame me and my husband for our haste,” Helen said.

  “No, not for your haste,” Andromache answered. “And I do not seek to shame you, nor your husband, for in marrying as you did you brought the shame wholly upon yourselves. I do not consent to attend for I believe it is a great dishonour and I shall play no role in deceiving the people of this city into thinking otherwise.”

  Helen was shocked by her words, but Andromache did not care, and she swept past the golden princess and did not look back, though she felt Helen’s furious gaze upon her back as she departed.

  * * *

  Helenus had not sought an audience with the king and yet he found himself summoned to his private chambers nonetheless, and it was with curiosity that he went to him. He could not think on what matters the king would wish to discuss with him alone.

  “I apologize for the lateness of the hour,” King Priam said, for it was dark outside the windows and night had fallen many hours ago. “I have been thinking on Diephobus and Helen’s marriage, and as much as it may pain me, I have longed hoped for him to marry.”

  “His marriage is both shameful and dangerous,” Helenus contradicted him.

  “Enough, Helenus, for Diephobus came to me after our council meeting to discuss the tension he has felt from you of late,” Priam said. “He is of a mind that you are opposing his marriage because you yourself proposed a marriage to Helen and she refused you.”

  “That is not the case,” Helenus said. “Helen was imprisoned, and Diephobus thought to release her without consent and married her without sanction. To do so, he –”

  Priam raised a hand to stop him, and Helenus tried to constrain his frustration and curb the anger that filled his voice whenever he spoke of his brother.

  “Yet it is true that you sought marriage with her?” Priam asked.

  Helenus nodded, forced to concede that it was indeed true.

  “I confess that I have not done as I should have done and found wives for all of my sons,” Priam said regretfully. “As my Heir Apparent, I sought only a bride for Hector, and have neglected to do so for my other sons.”

  “I do not seek to blame you, father.”

  “I thank you for that,” Priam said, smiling at him. “Though it is time that you were married, and it so happens that I believe Andromache has been allowed to remain unwed, in grieving for Hector for too long now.”

  “You wish to marry me – to Andromache?” Helenus asked, and a blush rose to his face, for he had long thought in his sleep of such a thing.

  “She is the mother to my Heir Apparent,” Priam said. “And as such she needs the guidance of a strong man to lead her in many decisions, especially now Astyanax grows. I cannot consent for her to marry outside of my own heirs, for it must be a prince that becomes guardian to such a boy. You have grown close to her, I am led to believe?”

  Helenus knew that Diephobus must be behind such actions, and wondered why he had done such a thing, for he knew that it must not be out of eagerness for Diephobus to see his brother happily married that he had put such thoughts into the king’s mind.

  “What say you?” Priam asked.

  “I would not object to such a marriage,” Helenus said. “Though Andromache is likely to, for she still mourns for Hector and in his memory has vowed never to remarry.”

  “She will do as she is bid,” Priam said. “A royal household is a dangerous place for an unmarried woman of such great importance to be, she would do well to heed that.”

  Helenus bowed his head. He wondered what schemes Diephobus was conjuring, and he feared for Andromache, for it was surely not in her best interests that Diephobus sought to interfere in her affairs.

  * * *

  Andromache was weary when she learned that discussions were underway to betroth her. While she had known for some time that it would soon be expected of her to be married again, she had led herself to believe – and hope – that it was not to be so as the months and years since Hector’s death had passed and no talk of marriage had arisen.

  Yet it seemed the time had come and Ilisa and Philomena did seem as opposed to the idea as she had believed they would be.

  “Imagine the gifts that will be bestowed upon you,” Ilisa sighed wistfully, for she herself had never married and now deemed herself too old to be considered an attractive prize for anyone. “And he is sure to be an honourable man, if the king is to make the match on your behalf.”

  “And you have long been without male companionship,” Philomena added, a hint of pink upon her face.

  “I have found companionship in Helenus,” Andromache said, and Ilisa and Philomena exchanged a look that Andromache did not care to interpret. “And besides, I have no need of a marriage; my son will be King one day. I do not wish for any more.”

  Her maids nodded, though she knew that they did not think a marriage such a bad proposition. Helenus, it would appear, seemed to share in their opinions on the matter.

  “You would be protected,” he argued, when she broached the subject with him. “Not only you, but a husband of high enough standing could protect any intrusion upon Astyanax’s inheritance too.”

  “I can protect myself and my son without the need for a husband,” Andromache insisted, and she thought Helenus’ face fell, though she did not understand for what reason.

  It seemed to her that nobody agreed she was not in need of a husband, and so it was a surprise when Diephobus spoke with her on the matter.

  “You do not wish for another marriage,” he said, consolingly, and though she was suspicious she let him continue, for she longed for somebody to agree with her. “And I do not blame you, for my dear brother Hector was not a man who can easily be replaced.”

  “That is true,” Andromache nodded.

  “It is unfair that you must be forced to dishonour your memories of my dear brother, you dear departed husband, in such a way,” Diephobus sighed. “Though perhaps I can be of assistance in these matters.”

  Andromache’s eyes narrowed, for she liked not the way he spoke.

  “You would seek to persuade your father that I am not in need of a husband?” she asked, uncertain if the man could be trusted. “What could you gain from such an act?”

  Diephobus smiled.

  “If you could be persuaded to grace us with your attendance at the marriage ceremony for Helen and I, perhaps I could be so persuaded to advise my father that you are not ready.”

  Andromache looked upon the man with distrust, but he was offering her what no other in the palace had, and
though she did not wish to give her blessing to such a marriage as his and Helen’s, she knew that he alone could stop Priam’s plans for her to marry. With reluctance, she accepted his terms.

  “Do not fear Andromache,” he said, as he left her counsel. “I will not let you down.”

  Andromache watched him depart, already weary of what she had agreed to.

  * * *

  Helenus had thought of little else but the prospect of marriage to Andromache and though he knew that the princess was loath to marry again, he could not find it within himself to be upset by his father’s plans for such a betrothal. He oft dreamed of marriage to such a woman now, and though he had long had feelings for her, he had not allowed himself to believe that such a marriage would ever be considered.

  It was such a distraction to him in his thoughts that he had put little mind to exposing Diephobus’ scheming, and it was only when dire tidings were brought to the council that Helenus was reminded of his need to question Antenor on his brother’s behaviour, though he knew that it was probably now too late.

  The messenger informed the aggrieved council that Antenor, so old and frail, had been taken ill and had passed away, and though it was not unlikely that a man of such age would die, Helenus could not help but wonder if Diephobus had played a hand in it. It was only days since Helenus had warned him of his intent to question Antenor over his alleged bribes; but Helenus could not bring himself to believe such a thing, even of his brother, though he was reminded of Antimachus and his untimely death.