Helen of Sparta

by Amalia Carosella

  “They are always willing, Helen.” He brushed her hair from her face, so he could see her expression. “There are many women who think it an honor to bear the child of a demigod, legitimate or not, and Pirithous at least ensures they enjoy themselves as much as he does.”

  She shook her head just slightly, her hair falling in a golden curtain between them. “It isn’t that.”

  “Then what?”

  “Nothing,” she said. “It’s nothing.”

  She tried to stand but lost her balance, falling back to the stool. Theseus steadied her. He should not have let her drink so much wine, perhaps, but she had needed it. A good part of it was probably the potion; he had not meant to keep her up so long after giving it to her.

  “Are you well?” he asked.

  “Just tired. I think I’d better go to bed.” Helen pressed her hand to her forehead, her face almost green. She swallowed so hard, he heard it, and he hoped she wouldn’t be sick.

  “Pollux!” Theseus called.

  Her brother glanced up, then excused himself from the company of Ajax the Great. The warrior’s eyes lingered on Helen until he noticed Theseus’s glare. Could none of these men hide their lust for even the length of a feast?

  “King Theseus.” Pollux bowed.

  “Would you see your sister to her room? I’m afraid she’s asleep on her feet.”

  Pollux laughed. “Little sister, how much wine did you have to drink?”

  “Too much,” she mumbled, reaching for his arm. “But you needn’t gloat. I’ve learned my lesson.”

  Theseus helped her to her feet, and Pollux swept her up into his arms, tutting softly. She rested her head against her brother’s shoulder and groaned.

  “What on earth possessed you to drink yourself sick?”

  “Does it matter?” she moaned.

  “Thank you for your attention to my sister, King Theseus.” Pollux smiled, looking very much like Pirithous. “I’m sure that in the morning she’ll have the grace to thank you herself, if not to apologize for her excess.”

  Theseus shook his head. “No apology necessary. I am sure the fault is mine, I should have cut more water into her wine.”

  He squeezed Helen’s hand once, then let them go. From the corner of his eye, he saw Menelaus rise as Pollux and Helen disappeared through the door. Pirithous slipped out a moment later, and Theseus retook his seat. He did not dare follow Menelaus to see what happened when he found the Athenians in his way.

  “Are you sure you will not let me send a slave to warm your bed, King Theseus?” Leda asked, touching his shoulder. He had not noticed her cross the room.

  “My thanks for your hospitality, my lady, but I think King Pirithous has already had my share.”

  She smiled. “Sparta is not so poor that we do not have enough women to serve both the son of Poseidon and the son of Zeus. After spending the evening beside my daughter, you would surely benefit from the relief of a woman.”

  “You cannot think your daughter’s beauty is an imposition.”

  Leda twitched one shoulder, neither confirmation nor denial. “It is simply my observation that she is a trial to the self-control of other warriors.”

  “Lesser men, I’m sure.” His knuckles were white with the effort of keeping his tone civil. “Unworthy men.”

  “You waste your time on Helen, my lord.”

  He stiffened, rising to his feet to face the queen of Sparta. “Do I?”

  Leda did not even step back, though he loomed over her. She raised her chin, and he could see where Helen had come by her courage, though he was fast beginning to think courage was the only virtue Leda possessed.

  “She will not make you a biddable wife, even if her father will allow it. And Tyndareus has his heart set on making Menelaus his son, no matter what he says otherwise. Whatever games are played to test her suitors, you can be certain they will favor the younger Atrides.”

  “I’m sure you do not mean to insult me, Queen Leda, for you must recognize that the son of Poseidon is a match for any man. Or do you mean to suggest that Menelaus and Tyndareus conspire to cheat?”

  Leda only smiled politely. “Helen has already given Menelaus her maidenhead to secure his claim. Of her own free will. She teases you, King Theseus, and I would not see you abused in such a way while you stay as our guest.”

  His hands closed into fists at his side, and it took all his strength not to reach for the woman’s throat. “You know this as fact?”

  “I arranged it at my daughter’s request.” Leda touched his arm, all sympathy. “I am sorry to give you such news, but better that you learned it now than later.”

  He ground his teeth and looked away. The girl who had come to him in the night in tears had not arranged for anything, and had he been in doubt, her pain when he had told her the story of Antiope would have been proof enough. That Leda knew what had happened only made her Menelaus’s accomplice, and for that she deserved punishment much greater than he could dispense.

  Hera, make her suffer for this betrayal. Spite her for everything she has done.

  “Send the slave,” he said softly, so she would think he believed her. “And let Menelaus have Helen, if she is so determined to be his wife.”

  He took the wine jug with him when he left, and thanked Athena for giving him the chance to sow the seeds of doubt. Let Leda believe he thought Helen ruined.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Theseus did not so much as look at me the next morning. He did not smile at me across the table, or ask if my sleep had been disturbed. I could not even tell him that his men had done their job and kept Menelaus from my room.

  “Did I do anything foolish last night at the banquet?” I asked Pollux. Surely Theseus could not be angry that I asked about Antiope. It was the only thing I could think of that might have caused him to dismiss me, though the later part of the evening was fogged with too much drink and exhaustion, and I could not remember it all clearly.

  “Other than pass out, I didn’t notice a thing,” he assured me. “Why do you ask?”

  I glanced at Theseus, seated beside Leda. “He does not even acknowledge me.”

  Pollux laughed. “Perhaps he is simply too distracted with arranging his departure to give you all of his attention.”

  “His departure?” I frowned.

  “Theseus and Pirithous leave tomorrow after the morning meal. I heard him tell Father and Mother this morning. I’m surprised he didn’t mention it to you last night.”

  I shook my head. “Not a word.” It made little sense for him to leave so soon after my own abduction. Tyndareus would suspect him immediately, no matter how many people had seen him at the banquet.

  “I was surprised myself, but Mother didn’t seem to be. Tyndareus did not dare take offense, of course. He wouldn’t risk upsetting two demigods. But I think he is relieved to see them go, all the same. Pirithous has been free with the servants, and Theseus has kept you much to himself.”

  Menelaus joined us then, and I did not dare ask Pollux anything further.

  “Did you sleep well, Helen?” he asked me. Beneath the table, his hand found my knee.

  My face flushed, and I tensed beneath his touch. “Well enough.”

  I stopped myself from mentioning the disturbance of his cursing the men beneath my window. The sound of his voice had brought me out of a deep sleep, and I had lain still as stone in my bed, waiting until he had gone and dreading he would find a way around them into my room.

  “I meant to come to you yesterday, but the Athenian did not seem as though he would let you out of his sight.”

  I glanced at Theseus again, but even with Menelaus beside me, he gave no sign he noticed. Pollux and Castor laughed together, oblivious as always. I hoped they would stay that way. If Pollux thought I had arranged my own disappearance for any reason, I had no doubt he would find me.
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  “Just as well.” My voice wavered, and I had to clear my throat before I could go on. “Tyndareus would not have been happy if I had slipped away to see you.”

  “Tyndareus would not have cared. Leda herself has given us permission, and she would not have done so without your father’s acceptance.”

  His hand slid up my thigh, and I pressed my legs together to stop him, my heart racing. If I looked at him, I would cry.

  “Come for a walk with me, outside,” he said.

  My hands shook, and I crossed my arms, pressing them against my ribs to keep him from seeing. “I’m sorry, Menelaus, but Tyndareus told me yesterday I was to stay with our guests.”

  His fingers dug into the flesh of my leg, then released me. “Later, then.”

  I repressed a shudder at the thought and forced myself to smile. “Perhaps.”

  “Menelaus!” Pollux slapped him on the back. “We need you on the practice field. Castor is bragging he will have you beat in the sword and sorely needs a reminder of his inexperience.”

  For the first time since the celebration had begun, Menelaus grinned, and for a moment I saw the man who had been my friend. “It would be my pleasure, if you can talk your sister into coming to watch. Perhaps she will offer the winner a prize from her gifts.”

  “Little sister, you would not deny us the pleasure of Menelaus’s sword arm, would you? Castor has been insufferable all week.”

  “A golden cup to the winner, then,” I said, glad for the excuse to put distance between us. “And I will come to watch.”

  Maybe if I was lucky, Menelaus would lose.

  Pirithous found me by the yard during the first round of fighting and dropped to the ground beside me. More than just Castor and Menelaus would challenge one another today, and somehow the prize had become not only a golden cup but a kiss from me as well. Menelaus’s idea, so sure he was that he would win. I hoped he tripped.

  The practice field was kept cropped by the palace goats where it was not soft sand for wrestling. During larger games in honor of Ares or Athena, logs were used to mark out arenas. Pollux had made me help pour libations to both the war gods, and Zeus as well, though this would be an informal occasion. The ritual bound everyone to the rules of the fight—the object today was only to disarm—but it did not always keep people from being seriously wounded. Agamemnon in particular never scratched where he could stab.

  Of course, Clytemnestra had come, with our cousin Penelope, to watch. Nestra giggled and cooed from the other side of the field, making cow eyes at Agamemnon. Tyndareus must have told her of the betrothal, or else she simply had no shame at all. The latter, I decided, when she admired the other men just as openly. She whispered something to Penelope, and they both looked at me before breaking into a titter. Penelope and I had been friends once, but she spent so much time with Nestra now, it seemed unlikely we ever would be again.

  “You look much improved this morning.” Pirithous raised my hand to his lips, and I smiled, happy for the distraction he offered. “Not the worse at all for the wine. A true child of Zeus.”

  “I would think it would be a truer test for a child of Dionysus.”

  “Ah, but is not Dionysus a child of Zeus as well?” Pirithous grinned.

  “Won’t you fight with the others?”

  Pirithous stretched out in the grass, folding his hands beneath his head and crossing his legs at the ankles. “I’m not sure it would be fair, really. I could perhaps give Pollux a lesson or two, but they wouldn’t have any hope of winning against me in a fight.”

  Watching Menelaus and Ajax the Lesser circle each other, I couldn’t decide whom I hoped to see pummeled more. “Very considerate of you.”

  He laughed. “You don’t sound pleased, Helen. Would you like to see someone in particular driven into the dirt?”

  Ajax snarled and lunged, but Menelaus deflected the blow, dancing back with a laugh.

  I picked at the grass, shredding the pieces between my fingers. “If the war comes, Ajax of Locris will be the first to rape me. I’ve seen it happen a dozen ways, but most often he is the first.”

  Pirithous said nothing, though his body grew taut as a bowstring.

  “And when he finishes, he brings me to Agamemnon, who does more of the same.” I nodded to where the king of Mycenae stood, cheering on his brother. “Of course, this is only when Menelaus himself does not find me and press a knife to my throat. In those dreams, things go much worse for me.”

  “You told him this? Menelaus?”

  “Yes.”

  Menelaus slid his sword under Ajax’s guard, nicking his bicep. Ajax charged him, and they tumbled to the ground. Agamemnon roared with laughter, but Pirithous watched with narrowed eyes.

  “And what of your mother?” he asked finally. “Does she know what your future with Menelaus holds?”

  “When I was a child, my mother warned me countless times that all I could expect from men was violence because of my beauty, but she all but disowned me a year ago. What Leda knows of me now, she learns from Tyndareus, and Clytemnestra’s gossip. She and Nestra are like sisters, now that she is old enough to marry, always whispering and laughing together.” Just as Nestra did this day with Penelope, as though determined to turn every woman in the palace against me.

  Pollux forced the two men apart, barely avoiding a bloodied nose in the process. Ajax and Menelaus squared off again, grinning at each other like wolves.

  Pirithous sat up, and I turned to see what had caught his attention. Theseus stood on the side of the field beside Pollux, sword in hand. Even from a distance, his knuckles were white.

  “What on earth is he doing?” I asked.

  “Being a hero.” Pirithous rose to his feet and stripped off his short tunic, revealing a kilt beneath. He grabbed one of the practice swords, flipping it end over end to test the balance, then chose another, casting a glance over his shoulder at Theseus.

  “I thought it wouldn’t be fair if you fought?”

  “Theseus has other ideas, it seems.” He brandished the swords, one in each hand, and nodded to himself. “Whatever happens, Helen, stay off the field. The farther from the fighting, the better.”

  Theseus stepped forward, and Ajax and Menelaus broke apart. Pirithous strode out onto the field, planting the second sword in the ground on the way, hilt up. Theseus said something I didn’t hear, and Pirithous grinned, taking up a place at his back. When the others drifted from the edge of the field toward them, I began to understand.

  Pirithous and Theseus meant to fight them all at once. Nearly two dozen men, all in their prime. Menelaus circled around Pirithous toward Theseus, and Agamemnon came to his side. Pollux and Castor stepped back out of the group, tossing their swords to the ground and taking the position of judges.

  “To first blood,” Pollux called, raising his arm. “Any farther, and you forfeit your prize. Don’t forget that the ladies watch.”

  When the melee began, I could not bring myself to look away.

  Theseus’s sword arm moved so quickly, I could barely see it, but each stroke caught a man’s arm, or shoulder, or leg, sometimes even a cheek. Pirithous was much the same, and in the first few moments, the crowd of men who attacked them had been thinned to half its number. Neither one of the demigods had even broken a sweat.

  “Is that the best you can do?” Pirithous taunted. “What kind of suitors will you make for Helen if you cannot even last a heartbeat in battle without shedding blood?”

  Pirithous grinned at me. I shook my head, afraid to speak for fear of distracting either one of them. Menelaus did not look as though he would limit himself to scratching his opponent, and Agamemnon rarely played any game fairly.

  The bloodied men fell back, lining up at the edge of the field with my brothers. Of the second round, Pollux called only Ajax of Locris from the field, and I thought it pleased him that the man did n
ot last longer. Truth be told, it pleased me, too, and from the look of him, Pirithous had not been gentle with his sword. Ajax limped away from the fight to join the others, his kilt stained red with blood.

  In contrast to Pirithous, Theseus said nothing, not even grunting. Though he deflected the blows of others, his gaze never left Menelaus. There were only six men left now. Ajax the Great, son of Telamon, of course, and the brothers Atrides among them, cheered on by Clytemnestra and Penelope. Patroclus, a young man but a fierce and quick fighter, also held his own, unbloodied by Pirithous’s sword.

  The last two I knew only by reputation, for they claimed they were the twin sons of Ares, but I did not know their names. They pressed Pirithous hard, fighting together as I had seen Pollux and Castor do, as if they knew each other’s minds. But Pirithous caught one of them on the forearm, and without his brother, the other did not fight half as well. Pirithous flicked his wrist and disarmed the man, catching the sword in his free hand in time to block a blow from Ajax the Great.

  “Theseus, stop playing with your opponents, and send them off the field.”

  At his side, Theseus snorted. Agamemnon and Menelaus fought him together, but in a move I did not see clearly, Theseus put Agamemnon flat on his back.

  “Foul!” Clytemnestra called. “King Theseus does not fight fairly!”

  A thin line of blood appeared on Agamemnon’s cheek, and he slammed his fist into the dirt, murder in his eyes. Pollux silenced Nestra with a sharp glance and called Agamemnon from the field.

  “It is not as though you need compete for favor,” Castor said. “And Clytemnestra would never forgive you if you accepted a kiss from Helen.”

  Agamemnon grunted and dabbed at the cut on his cheek as he climbed to his feet. “True enough.”

  Nestra was already on her feet, rushing to make overmuch of his wound, and Agamemnon let her pull him away from the other men. But the look he cast over his shoulder at Theseus made me shiver. Athena help him if he ever called on Mycenae for hospitality. After today, Agamemnon would be pleased to see Theseus dead.