Helen of Sparta

by Amalia Carosella

  “You are the jewel of Athens,” Menestheus said, sweeping me away from Aethra. “Theseus is a most fortunate man.”

  “I am most fortunate in Theseus,” I replied. “He is practically Egyptian in his sensibilities.”

  Menestheus snorted, and his arm pinned mine to his side. “Pretty phrases. Was it Pirithous who taught you, or Theseus himself?”

  I looked up, startled by the savagery of his words. His fingers dug into my arm when I tried to pull away. That was when I noticed the guards were dressed in bronze, not leather, and I recognized none of them as Athenians. I tore at his fingers, jerking harder against him, but he only twisted my fingers cruelly.

  “Get the old woman,” he barked to one, but he did not wait to see the order carried out, lengthening his stride. I set my heels, clawing at his arm, his hand, his face. He growled, tightening his grip.

  His hand slipped on my forearm when I moved to bite him. Enough for me to break free, and I spun, running back toward Theseus’s room.

  “Aethra!”

  Armed men already stood in the doorway, blocking it from view. Menestheus tackled me from behind, sending me sprawling on the floor. My wrist twisted beneath me, and my palms skidded against the polished stone, burning.

  Aethra’s shriek echoed down the corridor, and Menestheus cursed, hauling me back to my feet and dragging me down the hallway again, this time with a knife pressed against my ribs. The blade stilled me, the bronze digging harder into my side with every breath.

  “You!” I gasped the word. “How—”

  “How did I know?” He jerked me forward, faster, harder. “All that dye Theseus kept trading for, and that Spartan ritual in the megaron, to say nothing of the stories that came back with him from Sparta. Perhaps others might have been fooled by his Egyptian ruse, but if Theseus was so in love with Helen of Sparta that he set guards beneath her window and bargained for her hand in marriage, he would never give her up so easily for some Egyptian princess he had never met. Nor would he be so devoted.”

  I stared at him. “He trusted you!”

  “Not enough to tell me the truth about his bride.” The blade pricked me through the fabric of my gown. “And you, behaving as though you were too good to even look on any of us. Unwilling to even give audience to any of his people after he had gone. Hiding away in his rooms.”

  “For that, you would do this?” I did not care that I shouted, nor did the trickle of my own blood give me pause. “You would betray his sons! Athens itself! Theseus has been nothing but good to you, to Athens!”

  “Athens should have been mine! I thought for certain he would refuse to give up your child, and I would have the throne then, but no.” He sneered. “Aethra persuaded him, and of course Athena favored him with counsel. She took the crying baby from his arms herself! But I am done waiting now.”

  His words stabbed through me more keenly than any blade. My daughter. How could he speak so cruelly of an innocent child? As if she were worth nothing, but for how he might use her for his own purposes. Oh, Theseus! I should have warned him. He should have heard of the dream from me, not Menestheus, who did not care what blood was spilled, only how much closer it brought him to the throne.

  Menestheus threw me the last few paces into the megaron. I landed on my hands and bruised knees on the tile before two pairs of sandaled feet. They did not belong to Demophon or Acamas.

  Pollux crouched down to help me up, but I ignored him, glaring.

  My brother straightened, his usually good-humored expression filled with hurt. “Forgive me for thinking you might prefer to be found by your brothers over Menelaus.”

  I rose to my feet, forcing the pain from my heart and raising my chin. If Theseus had not defied the gods, then they must stand with us now. We had paid Zeus’s price. Athena had given us her word. And Theseus trusted her, above all. Theseus would come. The goddess would bring him home.

  “A princess of Egypt has nothing to fear from any Achaean prince,” I said. “We have no enemies here, and you have no right to me. I belong to Theseus. To Athens!”

  “Enough of your lies!” Menestheus snapped. “Take her. Perhaps if I’m lucky, Theseus will be so distracted by finding his wife that he won’t bother with trying to reclaim Athens. If he returns at all.”

  “When he returns, Menestheus,” I said. “And his people will rise to his call and throw you to your death from the Rock! Zeus himself will curse you, and all your children.”

  He grabbed my arm, the bronze blade, cold and stinging, finding my throat. “I warn you, Princess. Still your tongue, or I will cut it from your head.”

  Pollux stepped forward, his hand closing around Menestheus’s wrist. “You will not touch our sister again.”

  For the first time, I realized how impressive he had grown in my absence, for he towered like Pirithous over the man. Menestheus seemed to realize it, too, for he dropped the blade, his lip curling as he glared at me.

  “Demophon and Acamas will wake rudely aboard ship come morning, and the island of Euboea will keep them well away for some time,” Castor said. “I trust you can handle any trouble that might come if they return?”

  “Why should anyone want to be led by a son of Theseus after this betrayal?” Menestheus said, his gaze flicking over me before he turned away. “Clearly they can’t be trusted if they would help their father break even the most sacred of laws.”

  “Then the city is yours,” Castor said.

  “Come.” Pollux took me by the arm. “The sooner we are on our way, the less likely Menelaus will hear of this and follow.”

  I tore my arm free. “I won’t leave.”

  “Tonight with us, in peace, or later by force and with bloodshed, Helen. How many do you want to see dead now, if war threatens later?”

  “There would be no threat of war if you had not come. If you had not helped this usurper—this dog! We paid the price in blood, Pollux!” Zeus, I beg of you. You have our daughter. Strike Menestheus down, and bring Theseus to my side! I screamed the words in my mind as tears filled my eyes. Father, help me now!

  Castor swore. “We haven’t the time for this, Helen.”

  I spun, glaring at him. “My place is here, as queen of Athens. I will not abandon Theseus or his city.”

  Pain exploded in my skull, and Pollux shouted something I couldn’t understand, his expression livid.

  Warm arms caught my body, but my mind fell into darkness and flame.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  The ocean roared in my ears, pressing down upon me, pinning my arms to my sides. I struggled to free them, to swim for the surface, my lungs burning for air. A wave crashed, knocking me back, and then an arm wrapped around my waist, catching me and pulling me up. Theseus, I thought. Theseus, who would never let me drown.

  I gasped for breath, my eyes opening to the scrub brush of the Isthmus in winter. The ocean restricting me was only a cloak, wrapped so tightly around my body that I could not move my arms. Theseus’s cloak, though I did not understand how that could be. My head ached, and I groaned at the jarring hoofbeats of the horse beneath me.

  “Careful,” Pollux said in my ear when I sat up straight and struggled against the fabric. We rode beside the sea. “If you fall off, you’ll only be more miserable for the rest of the journey.”

  “I can’t move.”

  “I couldn’t have you flopping about like a fish while I rode.” He helped me to free my arms. “After what Menestheus did, I didn’t dare ask to wait until you woke. The man has no patience. I demanded your cloak at least, and one of the palace slaves brought this.”

  I rubbed the lump at the back of my head. The skin was tender, aching just from the weight of my hair. I wore the circlet still.

  “Korina,” I mumbled. Then I remembered Aethra. My eyes filled with tears. After everything she had done for me, to keep me safe. “What did he do to Theseus
’s family?”

  “Exile.” I sagged with relief, and Pollux wrapped his arm around me again, holding me steady. “Demophon and Acamas are well on their way to Euboea by now, and Aethra was sent back to Troezen. Menestheus would not do her any real harm, fearing Poseidon’s wrath. I did everything in my power to be sure it would be bloodless. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that it came to this at all.”

  “You shouldn’t have come!” My throat tightened, and I strangled a sob. Everything for nothing. Our daughter given up for nothing! “When you knew I was here, why did you?”

  “Because if we did not treat with Menestheus, he would have gone to Menelaus! At least this way, Theseus would not return to a ruined city. I owed the man that much for keeping you safe this long.”

  “The Rock has never fallen,” I said. “Menelaus never would have made it inside the walls.”

  “By the gods, Helen!” His arm tightened, making me cry out. He inhaled deeply, and his hold softened even if his tone did not. “Do you think Menestheus would have hesitated to let them in the same way he let us? Only if it had been Menelaus he invited, Theseus’s sons and mother would be dead, along with any man who got in his way. What he would have done to you had you fought, I do not even want to imagine.”

  I fell silent, grieving for things Theseus did not even realize he had lost. Athens in Menestheus’s hands. The daughter he had sacrificed for betrayal. Oh, Theseus. I did not deserve his forgiveness. Everything he had built, lost because of me. Even our child. Because I had not believed, had not shown faith, and now it was too late.

  “He deserved better than this,” I murmured.

  “I doubt very much he’ll ever return to see it,” Pollux said. “Aphrodite has led Pirithous on a merry chase and Theseus with him.”

  “You can’t know that.” My hands balled into fists in the fabric of the cloak. “Theseus will return! He swore it. We’ve only to wait until spring, and then he will come for me. You’ll see.”

  “Helen.” Pollux’s voice was gentle. “Very few have ever returned from the Underworld, and he has been a long time gone. Longer than he meant to be, according to Menestheus. Perhaps it would be best if we considered what you will do if he does not arrive. And even if he does, what good will it do? He is no longer king.”

  Egypt, I thought. We could flee to Egypt together and live the rest of our lives in peace if he did not win Athens back. That must have been what he intended, why he had meant Demophon to send me there. Pollux should have let Menelaus march. I would have been sent safely away, and Menestheus would have had nothing to offer. The Rock would have stood, and Theseus would have returned home to his crown.

  “He would be king still, if it weren’t for you,” I said.

  At my back, Pollux only sighed.

  We camped on the Isthmus road beyond Eleusis, though Pollux had hoped to make it to Megara before nightfall. Castor called the halt, ordering several men to the first watch before riding back to us.

  “You and Helen may have the constitution of gods, but the rest of the army has spent a long day on the march.”

  Pollux grunted. “You can hardly blame me for wanting distance from Athens.”

  Castor dismounted and helped me down from Pollux’s horse. “No. But exhausted men will do us no good, and the lands on the Isthmus will not take kindly to the news out of Athens when it spreads.”

  “Attica loves Theseus,” I said, not looking at Pollux. “Menestheus can barely throw a spear.”

  “If he is so poor a leader, I doubt he’ll last very long as king,” Pollux said gently. “Demophon will have no trouble finding allies to take back his throne.”

  “No.” I frowned, the burning city rising in my mind. Remembering Menelaus pinning me against the wall, speaking of Theseus’s death, I shuddered. “Menestheus will rule until the war. And when Theseus returns, Menestheus will have him killed.”

  Castor’s expression filled with pity. “We heard rumors that Theseus’s queen suffered from nightmares in his absence.”

  “But it made no sense,” Pollux said. “If you were safe with Theseus, why would you dream of the war?”

  “Perhaps because my foolish brothers meant to rescue me.”

  “Theseus can’t protect you if he’s lost in the house of Hades!”

  I whirled, and Pollux fell back. “And how do you intend to protect me, Pollux? By allowing Father to marry me to Menelaus? Agamemnon’s brother does not care for anything but his own interests!”

  “I know.” He raised his hands, palms out, his back against his horse’s flank. His eyes were dark with pain. “I heard him speaking with Leda, after you disappeared. And if I had known then, Helen, I swear to you I would have helped Theseus steal you from the city myself.”

  “Leda?”

  He clenched his jaw and looked away. “She helped him.”

  I shook my head, stumbling back. Castor reached for me, but I pushed him away. My own mother. The night rushed back to my mind, and I swallowed hard. Menelaus’s hands on my body, rough and determined and cruel. My own mother had done that to me, after everything she had suffered at the hands of Zeus? She would do it again. If she had promised me to Menelaus, she would not go back on her word now.

  “Helen, wait,” Castor said. I turned from him, from both of them. They would take me back there. Under my mother’s eye, into Menelaus’s reach. Theseus. Theseus, where are you? My husband. My hero. My protector. Theseus. He did not even know. He could not come if he did not know, and he had to come. He had to.

  The crashing of the sea filled my ears. Calling to me.

  “Where are you going?” Pollux shouted.

  I didn’t care. I had to tell Theseus. I had to let him know what had happened so that he might come home. Anywhere in the world, he had promised me. He would find me. He had to find me. Theseus, Poseidon’s son. “Theseus.”

  I scrambled through the scrub to the cliff, dimly hearing the snap of branches behind me. Pollux and Castor, following.

  The land sloped up, but the cliff stood low enough that I could feel the sea spray bouncing off the stone with every strike of the waves. I paused at the edge, ignoring the shouts of my brothers. The smell of salt and brine thickened with the wind blowing into my face. “Theseus!”

  But Theseus was not in the sea. No ship stood on the horizon, waiting to take me aboard. No dolphins leapt, showing Poseidon’s last favors. I might have believed they could swim even the River Styx, fighting their way through the Underworld to give Theseus word of me, had they only shown themselves. I would have thrown myself into their midst and begged them to carry me with them.

  I dropped to my knees on the hard rock, pressing my palms to the earth. “Theseus,” I said again. Poseidon was lord of more than just the ocean. Of the land, too, and what of his son? I closed my eyes, breathing in the salt and the sand and the stone, digging my nails into its unyielding surface until they ached. “If you could only hear me. If you only knew. You swore! On the Styx, you swore to find me!”

  Pollux crouched beside me. “In two days, we will reach Mycenae. Agamemnon will insist we spend the night within his palace, if only to appease our sister. Clytemnestra is queen there now. Menelaus will, no doubt, be present.”

  “Does Tyndareus know?” I could not take my eyes from the sea. “Was he part of it?”

  “You are his heir, Helen. He would not treat you so cruelly, not even for Menelaus. But he will want you married as soon as the priests allow.”

  “I already have a husband.”

  Pollux took my hand, brushing the dirt from my palm. When he rose, he pulled me with him. My arms felt weighted by stone, like my heart. He framed my face in his hands when I tried to look away, ducking his head to catch my eyes.

  “If Menelaus learns you were in Athens, that Theseus made you his wife, it will mean a war. And you can be sure that if Theseus is not dead already, Menelaus
will not rest until it is so.” His hands braced my shoulders when I did not respond, and he searched my face. “Do you understand what I’m telling you, Helen?”

  I closed my eyes again, wishing I could shut out the images he had painted as easily. My legs did not seem strong enough to support me, and my shoulders drooped beneath the weight of my brother’s words. Pollux pulled me into his arms, and I pressed my face into the curve of his shoulder, wishing it were Theseus who held me.

  Theseus, who might never hold me again.

  “We will say that your abductor hid you away,” Pollux went on, his voice low. “That you escaped from his hands and went to Athens for help, where Menestheus, in Theseus’s absence, sent word to us. And then we will marry you to a suitable husband as quickly as we can.”

  To Menelaus, I thought, clinging to Pollux as the first sobs ripped through me. My mother would see to that.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Theseus.

  At the call of his name, the desperate shout, he twitched against his restraints. Dark shadow burned against his skin, holding him in place, but his eyelids fluttered, fighting against the weight of his dreams. Over and over again, Aethra came to him, Menestheus at her side. Over and over again, he took his child, his daughter, from her bed, his heart shattering with the knowledge of what he must do. Over and over again, Athena took the baby from his arms, laying her upon the rock, and he stood vigil, each wail, each cry piercing him like an arrow, a spear, a sword through his soul. But the silence, the stillness that came after was even worse. And it always came. It always came, and he could do nothing but watch, but stand witness as her small, fragile life drained away.

  Theseus!

  Helen. Helen called to him, but how? He had left her in Athens, safe and protected. He had left her safe, though he had dreamed of that, too. Of Helen, stolen from Athens, torn from her chambers by Menelaus, screaming and struggling and clawing against him until he held her down, reclaimed her as his. He had dreamed of it, knowing himself trapped by Hades, incapable of reaching her.