by JJ Hilton
“Allow me a moment to dress,” Andromache bowed again, and reached for her robes for she was naked, yet Hermione snatched the robes from her.
“You shall not be required to be clothed for the entertainment you shall provide,” Hermione said, and a wicked smile came upon her lips.
Realisation dawned on Andromache’s face and she blushed, which only served to widen Hermione’s smile.
“Hurry,” she snapped, clicking her fingers. “They will not thank you for keeping them waiting; you know how men’s desires can be so overwhelming, I’m sure.”
Andromache followed her from the room, her hands trying to cover her nakedness, her cheeks flaming red with the humiliation of such a thing. Hermione led her to the room in which Neoptolemus’ guests were lounging, and stepped aside so they could look upon her gift.
“I give you your entertainment,” Hermione said, gesturing to Andromache. “I trust you will enjoy her; she was once a royal princess of Troy, now here to please you.”
Andromache bowed her head to the men as they leered at her, and Hermione was gone from the room with one last spiteful look upon the woman she hated.
It was not long before Neoptolemus learned of Hermione's scheme and before Andromache had so much as been approached by one of the honoured guests, he had thrown open the doors and dragged her out.
Andromache lay in bed shaking with fear, and Helenus came in to comfort her, laying his arms about her and whispering soothing words to calm her and ease her into sleep.
The following morning, Neoptolemus came to apologize to Andromache.
“I wish you to know that I had no part in my wife’s schemes,” he said, and she knew that it was true, for Hermione it seemed was as duplicitous as her mother had been before her. “I can only offer my apologies, and assure you that Hermione has been reproved.”
Andromache bowed her head in acceptance of his apologies, yet when she saw Hermione later that day, her eyes blackened and her lip cut, Andromache did not feel pleasure but pity for the scornful woman, and as they dined that evening, Andromache noticed that not only did Hermione look upon her with hatred, but also now upon Neoptolemus, her husband of so few months. In that moment Andromache feared now not only for herself but for him and their sons.
* * *
Although Andromache feared for Neoptolemus and their sons together, she could do nothing except warn him of his wife’s hatred and watch as he ignored her advice and continued to mistreat his wife.
Hermione still carried no child of her husbands and Andromache knew that it was because Neoptolemus no longer sought pleasure with his wife, preferring the company of her or one of his other concubines. She did not fear for Astyanax, for he was a grown man and he no longer needed her protection; she knew that Helenus kept a careful eye on his nephew and would allow no harm to come to him.
With her marriage at such an impasse, Hermione it seemed had turned her attentions towards others. Andromache grew wary as Hermione seemed to set her attentions upon Astyanax, for he had grown into a handsome man. She was aware that many women’s eyes lingered upon him, as they had done on his father.
Andromache tried to warn her son of Hermione’s looks and that he must be careful in her presence, yet Astyanax, with the bravado that all men seemed to have, insisted that he was not a fool.
“Your son is such a handsome sight to behold,” Hermione said, when she caught Andromache washing robes one morning. “If I am not mistaken, and I fear I am not, he bears a mighty resemblance to your late husband, Prince Hector of Troy.”
Andromache knew what the woman meant to impart and her heart raced.
“Yet how could that be, I wonder?” Hermione continued, seeing the fear upon her enemy’s face. “For the Heir Apparent it is said, was thrown from the walls of Troy. So unless all those stories my father has told me of such a thing are false, then he and his armies were deceived and the true heir is well and alive and working within my own palace.”
“You are surely mistaken,” Andromache said, hoping that her voice did not betray the fear within her.
“Perhaps,” Hermione shrugged, “But I shall mention such an interesting thing in my letters to my father, King Menelaus, for surely he and my mother can offer some wisdom on the matter.”
She retreated then, and Andromache grew more anxious, for she knew that Helen knew the truth and should Hermione ask it of her, would Helen really lie to her own daughter of the secret she held?
Andromache went to Helenus with word of her encounter and he knew the danger of what Hermione suggested, even if Astyanax was too brave to acknowledge.
“I will keep alert for sign of trouble,” Helenus reassured her, “And fear not, for I do not doubt that Neoptolemus will seek to protect you, and indeed Astyanax, from his wife.”
“Perhaps,” Andromache said, not feeling eased by his words. “Yet I fear sometimes that Hermione seeks to do him as much harm as she wishes upon me.”
* * *
It was not long before Andromache discovered proof that Hermione wished her harm, for Helenus came to her carrying a note and wearing a grave look upon his face.
“I have a letter here from Hermione to her father, King Menelaus,” he said, passing her the note. “I am sorry, but it will bring no joy to you to read what it contains.”
Andromache read Hermione’s untidy scrawl and as Helenus had warned her it did not make pleasant reading. It seemed that Hermione wished her dead, and that she sought her father’s hand to help her do it. Neoptolemus was planning to ride out to some battle in the coming days, and Hermione thought that such a time would present a perfect opportunity for her father to rid his daughter of her enemy and her husband’s concubine.
Andromache passed the note back to Helenus, tears upon her cheeks.
“If she has the might of her father behind her, I stand little chance, do I?”
Helenus sighed and tore the letter up into tiny pieces, and dropped them upon the floor. Anybody who came across them would not recognise them for a letter, nor guess upon the lines they had contained.
“Will Hermione not be furious at such destruction?” she asked.
“She believes her letter has already been sent to her father,” he reassured her. “I have been reading her letters, looking for word of Astyanax, though she had not written to her mother to inquire after him. I came across this and thought to warn you, even though her father will not now receive the letter so he will play no part in her schemes.”
“Do you think she will let that be the end of the matter?” Andromache asked fearfully.
Helenus wrapped his arms around her and held her close, as one might a frightened child, but Andromache noticed he did not answer her and that told her all she needed to know of the matter.
* * *
Andromache remained wary of Hermione but she was reassured that no harm would come to her in Neoptolemus’ absence, for he had decided not to go to battle and as such, Hermione’s plans, whatever they may have been, were thwarted. Andromache was relieved - though she knew it likely that Hermione would not rest so easily.
It was soon announced that Hermione’s cousin Orestes would be entertained at the palace when he visited during his travels of the area, and Andromache thought irresistibly of the rumours she had heard of a love affair between Hermione and Orestes.
“Do you think there is some truth to such talk?” she asked Helenus in the privacy of their rooms, and his look suggested that he would not doubt such a thing.
“What if Neoptolemus was to suspect that anything untoward had taken place between them here in his own palace?” Andromache asked, thinking of ways she could save herself from Hermione’s dangerous presence. “Would he send her from him, do you think?”
Helenus considered her, and she knew that his conscience, always so clear about right and wrong, was torn between doing what was right and protecting Andromache, whom he loved so dearly.
“I think we should consider it,” he said cautiously, looking aroun
d to make sure they were not overheard.
Andromache thought on the matter with every waking moment as the palace prepared for Orestes’ arrival. She also knew from Helenus’ stern, worried face that she was not alone in such dark thoughts.
Orestes arrived with little fanfare, for Neoptolemus distrusted his wife’s cousin already, and Andromache wondered if he too had heard the rumours concerning them. Orestes showed little regard for his cousin’s husband and upon setting eyes on her swept Hermione up in his arms, kissing her on the mouth, his lips lingering a moment too long. Neoptolemus turned red with anger as Hermione turned pink with pleasure.
Neoptolemus did not soften towards his wife during Orestes’ stay, and if anything his disregard for her became even more apparent to those in the palace. Orestes was handsome and charming, and his love for Hermione was clear to all, which did nothing to endear him to Neoptolemus.
Andromache considered during Neoptolemus’ frequent visits to her bed, of telling him that there was talk that Orestes and Hermione had betrayed his trust under his own roof, but she did not. For even though she despised Hermione, she could not bring herself to lie to this man who sought comfort from her.
“I often wonder what would have happened if I had made you my wife instead of her,” Neoptolemus whispered to Andromache as they lay in her bed together. “I wish that I had indeed taken you as my wife, for then Hermione would never have entered it.”
He sighed and Andromache still did not say the words that would surely mean Hermione was sent from here.. When Neoptolemus slipped from her room, Andromache wondered if Hermione had sought solace in Orestes’ bed even as her husband had come to her.
* * *
Hermione and Orestes seemed unable to keep their hands away from each other, even in the company of others and in full view of Neoptolemus, and Andromache was not surprised when he had finally had enough of such affection and ordered Orestes to depart the palace.
Andromache watched as a seething Orestes departed from the dining hall and went to his chambers to gather his things while Hermione wept openly at the table, her hatred for her husband plain for all to see.
Neoptolemus looked weary now, and Andromache found herself wishing that he had found a good wife with whom he could have been happy. As it was, Hermione would undoubtedly strive to make her husband's life as miserable as she could - and with no chance of an heir, Neoptolemus could only grow more frustrated.
With Orestes granted one last night, after Hermione had launched herself to the floor and begged and wailed for Neoptolemus to grant this one last request, Andromache expected that Neoptolemus would as usual call on her when darkness fell.
She waited and yet no Neoptolemus appeared in her rooms, and rather than falling asleep she grew worried, for it was so unlike him not to come to her. She thought of Hermione and Orestes’ anger towards him and left the silence of her rooms to go in search of him. She did not wish to go to his chambers for she knew Hermione was likely to be there and she did not think it wise to show her face to such a woman, especially when she knew her to already be so angry.
It was a stark cry that alerted her to danger and she hurried down the corridor to the master’s chambers. Neoptolemus lay upon the floor, a knife embedded deep within his chest. She saw no sign of Hermione or Orestes, yet she knew them to be responsible.
“Help! Help!” she called, and rushed to him, falling to her knees beside him.
He was pale and his eyes were slowly emptying of vigour, but he remained clinging to life and clasped her hand in his, looking into her face as she smiled down upon him. Tears clung to her eyelashes.
“I love you,” Neoptolemus said, his voice quiet and weak.
“I love you too,” she lied, to soothe him, and he closed his eyes.
Helenus and two guards came upon them then, Astyanax only a few steps behind, and at once they knew that Neoptolemus was dead and by whose hand it had been done.
“Send guards out in search of Hermione and Orestes,” Helenus commanded, and the guards rushed out to do as he had said.
Andromache cradled Neoptolemus’ body in her arms and wept for him.
* * *
It was with much mourning that Neoptolemus’ pyre had been lit and his soul released to the afterlife, and Andromache did not think on what was to become of her for she had no idea what she should expect.
Neoptolemus’ advisors called her and Helenus both to their chambers a week after Neoptolemus’ passing and bid them sit before them for there were great matters to discuss.
“There has been no sighting of Hermione or Orestes,” one of the men said, “Though it has been established that they are guilty of Neoptolemus’ murder and as such his wife recounts all claim to his inheritance, properties and titles.”
“As it should be,” Andromache nodded, relieved that such a woman would not inherit her husband’s lands.
“Neoptolemus did not leave instructions for what should become of his lands and properties upon his passing,” the advisor went on, “Though he spoke often of his wishes, and as such we as a council have come to a decision.”
Andromache and Helenus were silent as they looked to the council.
“It was his wish that Helenus should become King of Epirus - after all he was a royal prince of Troy, and he has often guided and advised the king well on all matters of state,” the advisor said, and Helenus bowed his head, though Andromache saw that he was shocked at what they now told him. “Do you accept this honourable title?”
“I do,” Helenus said, smiling tremulously for the first time upon entering the chambers. “I shall do everything within my power to rule justly and greatly as King.”
“As was his wish,” the advisor said, smiling and bowing to Helenus. “And as for Andromache and her children, they are released from any service to King Neoptolemus and his court, and are placed under the care and protection of King Helenus of Epirus.”
Andromache looked to Helenus and he smiled back at her, adoration in his eyes, and she knew that Neoptolemus too had seen the love that this man held for her and her children, and she knew at once that they would be safe in Epirus with Helenus as king.
* * *
Two months had passed since the death of Neoptolemus and yet there was no sadness in the great city of Epirus, for there was a most wonderful ceremony to be celebrated and all of the city had joined in the joy and laughter of such an occasion.
Andromache knelt before the priest in the great temple and made her offerings as King Helenus made his offerings beside her.
When the priest had proclaimed them man and wife, King and Queen, Andromache took Helenus’ hand in her own and together they walked from the temple to a chorus of cheers and clapping, for they were much loved in the city. The princes joined the small procession, Astyanax guiding his younger brothers with a smile upon his face, for he could wish for no greater happiness for his mother than to be happily married to his most beloved of uncles and guardians. Molossus, Pielus and Pergamus, the golden princes, were delighted too for they knew that their beloved father Neoptolemus would have been joyful to see Andromache and Helenus united.
The procession travelled through the streets until eventually they reached the palace, the sunlight shining brightly through the windows and archways.
“I am most pleased for you both,” Astyanax said to them as he kissed first his uncle and then his beloved mother. Andromache wiped a joyful tear from her son’s face and kissed each of her sons, their smiling faces so adoring to her. “May your reign here prosper.”
Andromache and Helenus ascended the stairs together, hands clasped, and retreated to the royal chambers that were now theirs.
“I love you,” Helenus said to her, and she saw in his honest face that he meant it.
She took his face in her hands and kissed him on the mouth, and his arms wrapped around her. She felt his heart beating fast, his breath catching in his chest, and she knew that he had longed to hold her in this way as his wife, for such
a long time now.
“I love you too, my king,” Andromache said, and she too meant it, for this man had protected her and loved her for so many years that she knew her beloved Hector would be proud of them both and it was with his blessing that she kissed her new husband once more.
Table of Contents
Chapter One Andromache of Thebes
Chapter Two Princess of Troy
Chapter Three The Return of Paris
Chapter Four Helen, The Unwelcome Guest
Chapter Five The Start of War
Chapter Six A Royal Wedding
Chapter Seven Hector vs Achilles
Chapter Eight The Dishonouring of Hector
Chapter Nine Achilles’ Proposal
Chapter Ten The Death of Paris
Chapter Eleven The Madness of Priam
Chapter Twelve Diephobus
Chapter Thirteen Menelaus in Troy
Chapter Fourteen A Palace in Discord
Chapter Fifteen The Sack of Troy
Chapter Sixteen An Uncertain Fate
Chapter Seventeen Neoptolemus
Chapter Eighteen The Last