The Trojan Princess

by JJ Hilton

  “He was a great man,” Diephobus said, upon hearing of the news, leading the council in tribute to the man. “He will be much missed in these council chambers.”

  Helenus looked upon his brother, and Diephobus caught his eye for a moment. Helenus thought he saw a gleam of victory in his brother’s eye, but then he had turned and his tribute continued, and Helenus wondered if he had imagined seeing such a thing at all.

  * * *

  Laocoon had received word of Antenor’s death with a dreadful understanding of what such a thing meant. He was under no illusion that Diephobus, that trickiest of princes, was somehow involved in the ancient councilman’s passing, and of course poor Antimachus’ too, for he had thought once to oppose the prince in the matter of Helen. It was a dangerous place to be, he mused, ensconced within the council chambers.

  Being a wise man and with no intention of losing his life, he had departed from the city having sent word to Polites, whom he knew could be trusted to deliver the message to the council, that he would require a time away from the city. Diephobus may be suspicious of such an absence but he could not harm him, and when Laocoon returned he hoped that the prince would be in a more favourable mood.

  As such he left behind the city and travelled along the coast, carrying only what he would need on his journey to reach his wife and children. He had never brought them to the city, for he knew the dangers being a council member would entail and he had not wished to put his family in harm’s way for his own ambitions.

  Laocoon had tried to serve his city well, though, and yet war stained everything that had been achieved and he did not cherish the thought of one day returning to the palace, with its uncertainties and its scheming princes.

  The headland rose before him and the city dwindled out of sight behind, so that once he passed over the ridge of the hilltops he would no longer be able to see the mighty walls of Troy and, more importantly, they would not be able to see him.

  As he went over the ridge he saw that the sea before him, obscured from the sight of the city by the cliffs and hills, was white rather than blue. Laocoon stopped and looked upon the sight as realisation dawned.

  He could not see the ocean before him, for thousands of ships had gathered here, hidden from Troy, and the sails flapped in the wind and men stood about on the wooden decks, waiting for what he did not know, though he knew that war was far from over and that these Greek armies had not returned home as they had wanted the city to believe.

  Alarm gripped him and he wished that he had not travelled so far. He knew that he must go back and warn the city of what he had set his eyes upon, so that they may be forearmed against the invasion he knew must follow. He looked down upon the ships with dismay for a moment longer and then turned back, careful on the slippery rocks of the headland, for it would be a long, fatal fall down to the jagged rocks beneath the cliffs if he should lose his footing.

  He thought of the wooden horse that stood before the city gates and he knew that it was no gift; he did not know what it was, but it could be nothing good if the armies waited out of sight to strike.

  As he once more crossed the ridge, looking upon Troy once more, his haste and his panic made him less cautious than usual. His mind was preoccupied, and it was too late before he realised the rock he had stepped on was slippery beneath his feet. He lost his foothold, feeling his body lose its balance and his stomach heave. Laocoon fell from atop the headland before crashing upon the rocks and the waves beneath, his body breaking with the force of the impact, swept out by the waves and the currents, so he would never be seen again.

  * * *

  Andromache dressed in her finest robes and wore her most elaborate headdress as she set out to attend Diephobus and Helen’s marriage ceremony. Her maids had been most surprised that she wished to attend, yet she had not told them of her agreement with Diephobus, for she felt sure that the two women would disapprove, and she knew that they would be right. Helenus too did not look impressed to see her departing from her chambers and making haste to the procession that would follow Helen and Diephobus to the temple so that they may once more be married; this time in full view of all of the city. Helenus did not question her, nor chastise her, but Andromache sensed true feeling on the matter all the same, and it was with heavy heart and mind of doubt that she attended.

  As she joined the gathering crowd in the courtyard, from where they would make the journey to the temple, she heard much muttering of the great horse that remained outside of the gates.

  “King Priam has made his decision,” one nobleman said, upon Andromache’s questioning look. “The horse is to be brought into the city, and presented as a mighty gift to Helen and Diephobus upon the conclusion of the ceremony.”

  Andromache did not like the horse. It aroused unease within her. Yet she paid little mind to it, for Diephobus and Helen had arrived in the courtyard and the procession was to begin. Diephobus caught sight of her and nodded towards her, his smile showing pleasure and his eyes acknowledging that she had withheld her side of their agreement.

  As the procession made its way from the palace and through the streets, Andromache could not help but notice that the crowd did not cheer and rejoice as they had done for her own wedding, or even as they had for Helen and Paris. This was a tired and weary city, and she wondered how long it would take for the war to be forgotten.

  Diephobus and Helen waved to the crowd, yet she thought they too must realise that they were not beloved of the people. Andromache did not speak, although she played the part that was expected of her, hoping that Diephobus would hold up his side of their agreement.

  * * *

  King Priam watched as Diephobus and Helen knelt at the altar of the temple and made their offerings to the gods in the hopes that their marriage would be blessed. He hoped the gods were listening, for he knew that there were enough within the city who thought to curse such a marriage.

  He heard rumblings in the palace, though he tried not to hear them. The people were discontent, though war had finally come to an end, and even his nobles, who were always so quick to follow his lead and accept whatever he deigned to accept, were muttering of such a marriage. Some he was told, even dared to question whether the king might not be too old and that perhaps he should abdicate. Priam indeed was old, yet who was there to rule if he were to leave his throne, he thought sadly. Hector was dead, and Paris too, though he would never have thought to give Paris his rule. Astyanax was still young, and he dare not grant power to him, for Andromache was sure to influence his rule and what good could come from a grieving widow ruling a city such as this? Diephobus did not endow himself to the people, and Polites had not the charisma to lead. Helenus was brave and so like Hector, yet dare Priam leave the rule to him, when the city was in such a state as this?

  Yet still the mutterings continued, though he tried to quell any unease within the palace. He had hoped the end of the war would bring with it joy, yet it only seemed to exacerbate tensions, for the people knew he had been willing to discard peace in favour of his sons - not once but twice - in letting Helen marry Paris and now Diephobus.

  He watched as the priest proclaimed Helen and Diephobus married, yet it aggrieved him that so few had come to pay their respects. Andromache had come, though he had felt certain that she would not, but she had not brought with her Astyanax, the Heir Apparent. The sooner she was married, he thought, the sooner he would find some peace. Yet Helenus had not come, nor Polites. Laocoon had absented himself from the city and the other councilmen were dead. His daughters, too, had remained in the palace, and so only he and his wife had shown their support for such a marriage.

  With the ceremony over the procession left the temple, yet he felt no release in the building tension as they made their way down the streets. A few people clapped and cheered, but many threw dark, angry glares in the direction of him and his family. He knew that no longer did they adore their rulers, but distrusted and despised them. The nobles, too, seemed to sense the atmosphere, for
many detached themselves from the procession and slipped through the crowd with their wives and children, no longer fearing the wrath of the king who saw their insolence.

  He longed for peace, to be able to sleep without his dreams turning to nightmares, and yet it was the duty, and the burden, of a king to suffer as his people suffered.

  * * *

  Andromache too sensed the atmosphere that had settled upon the city and she regretted having attended such a wedding and showing her support for such an unholy and unwelcome marriage. Yet Diephobus had made her promises and she could not bring herself to slip away as so many others did from the procession, without a care if the king saw them. She had heard the rumblings of discontent since Diephobus and Helen’s secret marriage, but now she saw King Priam’s face pale and wondered if he too noticed it.

  Her sense of foreboding was great as the procession neared the palace and so concerned was she that she barely glanced upon the mighty wooden horse that had been dragged through the streets of the city to stand in a courtyard until the king had time to present it to the newlyweds. Upon reaching the palace, Andromache made her excuses and left the procession for she felt growing unease and she knew that something was amiss for so many noblemen to depart.

  She did not go to her own chambers at first and instead sought Astyanax in his rooms. He was alone upon his bed, and when she entered he rose to bow his head to her.

  “What is wrong Mother?” he asked, for he could see the look upon her face. “Did something happen at the wedding?”

  “No, no,” she said, trying to be reassuring. “There is nothing to worry about, yet I sought your company and wondered if you would care to join me in my chambers?”

  Astyanax smiled, for Andromache knew that he loved his mother above any others.

  “It would be my pleasure,” he responded.

  Andromache smile with relief and led him from his rooms, not just grateful that she would spend the evening with her beloved son, but because she wanted her precious boy close to her. The discord in the palace was high and she wanted him safely in her sight.

  It did not take long for her fears to be proven. Philomena burst into the room, closely followed by Ilisa, both out of breath and faces flushed.

  “There is much fighting in the palace,” Philomena said, looking upon Andromache with trepidation. “Helenus has launched an uprising with the army, declaring Diephobus a traitor to the throne!”

  “It is not safe for you in the palace any longer,” Ilisa shook her head, tears coming. “I do not know where would be safer, yet I fear for you as long as you remain here.”

  “Helenus would not harm me or Astyanax,” Andromache said firmly, and the maids seemed soothed, as did her son.

  And yet Andromache could not help but think that if Helenus sought power over the city for himself, he would not wish for Astyanax, Heir Apparent, and his royal mother to remain alive to oppose his capturing of the crown and throne.

  * * *

  Axion, her loyal guard, called out when Helenus approached down the corridor towards the entrance to Andromache’s royal chambers. He readied his sword for combat though he did not wish to raise his blade to a man such as Helenus, who he had so admired, yet if it was in protection of Andromache and her family he would slay the prince if needs be. Helenus was flanked by two guards, but he did not seem anguished by Axion’s presence.

  “Step aside, I wish to see the princess Andromache,” Helenus commanded.

  Axion stood blocking the doorway and called into the chambers. Ilisa looked upon Helenus with fear and her face paled, but Andromache’s voice sounded from within the rooms.

  “Allow him entry,” she said. “But only him – no soldiers are to accompany him.”

  Andromache whispered instructions to Philomena and the maid and Astyanax hid beneath the bed, in case Helenus did seek to do them harm, with the intent of fleeing the city should Helenus have their harm in his thoughts. Helenus entered alone as she had bidden and she felt relieved at least that he had not shown disregard for her wishes.

  “I do not wish for you to fear me,” Helenus said as he stood before her.

  Andromache found she did not fear him now that he was standing here, yet she knew that to trust anyone in such a time was foolish, so she kept silent.

  “You have heard of what is going on within this palace?” Helenus asked, “For you have placed a guard outside your door and no doubt have considered fleeing to sanctuary.”

  “I have heard tell and nothing more,” Andromache answered, “And as for fleeing to sanctuary, may I ask perhaps if that should be a precaution that is necessary for such as I?”

  “You will come to no harm,” Helenus said. “And nor will Astyanax or any of your household.”

  Andromache felt relief, yet she did not call for Philomena and Astyanax to come out from their hiding place.

  “I wished to see if you are safe and comfortable,” Helenus continued. “I could not find Astyanax in his chambers, and I hoped that he might be with you.”

  “He is safe,” Andromache said guardedly.

  “I would not harm him,” Helenus said, and Andromache heard hurt in his voice that she could think such a thing of him. “Yet there are others who would seek to do so; Diephobus makes moves against the king, I am sure of it, and my father does nothing to curb the man’s scheming and murderous intent. I could no longer watch and take no action.”

  “You seek the throne for yourself?” Andromache asked.

  “No,” Helenus answered. “The throne is for your son.”

  Andromache looked upon the man and felt fear replaced with excitement, for though she did not approve of such a coup, she could not claim to be displeased that he sought all of this in order to place her son on the throne.

  “Yet he is still young,” Andromache said.

  “He will need you and I to guide him wisely then,” Helenus agreed.

  Andromache thought on such a thing and found that she was not displeased. She would be the king’s mother and she could ensure peace and prosperity came once more to this great city. Helenus smiled, for he saw that she was tempted by such a proposition.

  “It is not safe for you to stay here tonight, ” Helenus said. “I will leave two of my guards with you, and they will accompany you to the temple. You must seek sanctuary there, for you cannot be harmed within temple walls. Wait there with Astyanax until I come for you; leave the sanctuary for nobody else, for I feel sure Diephobus will seek vengeance.”

  He looked hard at Andromache then and she wondered if this prince before her thought more of their friendship than she had allowed herself.

  “I bid you good luck,” Andromache said. She leant forward and kissed him lightly upon his cheek, and his cheeks flushed pink as he bowed and left her chambers.

  Philomena and Astyanax crawled out from beneath the bed and looked to Andromache. Ilisa too waited for her instructions.

  “We shall do as he bids us and seek sanctuary in the temple,” Andromache said, trying to ignore the shouts and cries about the palace. “Let us keep close, and keep safe.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Sack of Troy

  The palace was in disarray and Andromache held Astyanax close to her as Axion and the two soldiers that Helenus had left with the charge of protecting her led the way down the corridors towards the temple.

  If she had hoped for a bloodless uprising, Andromache’s hopes were quickly to be dashed, for blood splattered walls at the foot of the stairs and some soldiers lay dead upon the floor of the corridors, blood staining the marble beneath them. She did not wish her son to see this, but it was for his ascent to the throne that these men died, so she did not shield his eyes. Ilisa and Philomena, a step behind her, held each other tightly, fear overcoming them. Axion held his sword aloft and did not let his guard down.

  Andromache feared for Helenus, and wondered what was to become of the royal princesses; surely Helenus would not harm his sisters, but uprisings such as these inevitabl
y had their tragedies, and she forced such thoughts from her mind as they rounded a corner.

  Four armed soldiers were drawing near, and they looked weary at the sight of Andromache and her household.

  Axion stopped and pointed his sword at the men. One of them raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, but Axion made no effort to lower his sword, for this was no time for complacency or trust.

  “Whom do you serve?” Axion demanded.

  “Helenus,” the man answered.

  Axion narrowed his eyes, but did not move.

  “You will let us pass unharmed?” Andromache asked.

  The men nodded.

  “You must turn back, princess, and seek refuge in the palace, I fear,” the man said, and Andromache saw that these men looked fearful. “You cannot leave the palace.”

  “Why not?” Andromache demanded. “Helenus bid me seek sanctuary in –”

  “Helenus has not yet been told of what has happened,” the soldier said. “The Greek armies are upon us and within the city walls, slaying all who cross their path.”

  Andromache trembled.

  “You cannot mean such words!”

  “I fear all who do not hide will be slaughtered,” the soldier said. “Now, pray, let us pass so we may inform Helenus of what has befallen us once more.”

  Axion lowered his sword and the four men ran past, one shooting a fearful glance back over his shoulder. Axion turned to Andromache, and she felt all eyes upon her for a decision as to what should be done.

  The screams and cries that reverberated around the palace took on a new, woeful meaning, and Andromache rushed to the nearest window so that she might look out upon the city. She did not need to look closely to see that the city was indeed under attack. Houses were aflame, the screams and clash of swords pierced the night and filled the air, so that her blood ran cold with fear and she knew that the city was to fall that night.