"Someone mistook me for a servant girl and tried to steal a kiss. I fought him off...and another man rescued me." She shrugged and smiled.
"Penelope--"
"Later." Once again, Penelope felt herself to be the elder. "When there are no spying ears or gossiping tongues."
"I'll hold you to that, cousin." Helen smiled and looped her arm through Penelope's. They walked back to rejoin the others, arm in arm.
* * * *
Penelope was glad for the floating cloud of sheer veil across her face, her armor of jewels and cosmetics, as she followed Helen down the hall. The chatter of the servant girls about the suitors, their backgrounds, attributes and gifts to Tyndareos and Helen, had done nothing to soothe her leaping stomach and trembling hands and feet. More than two hours had gone into dressing and decorating the two royal cousins, so they could sit at the high table in the feasting hall. Penelope knew no one would recognize her now and she was glad. And worried. Memories of Aias' rage and his stupidly stunned face made her alternately want to cry and laugh. Memories of the worry and rage on Odysseus' face sent a humming sensation through her to her bones. Penelope did not know if she could look at him, meet his eyes, and present the controlled, cool exterior required of a royal daughter.
That question would soon be answered, she reflected, as she and Helen paused at the doorway to the feasting hall. The massive, bronze-bound doors were guarded by two servants, who bowed and pulled the panels apart. A wave of sensations poured from the feasting hall.
The deafening roar of scores of men talking and laughing and shouting at once. A faint undercurrent of music from lyres, pipes. and drums. The laughter of servant girls as they dodged pinches and kisses. The odors of roast meat, fresh bread, garlic, and wine. The warmth and thickness of air from many male bodies confined in one place. The sweet, thin aroma of flowers that garlanded the beams and walls of the feasting hall. Penelope took it all in with one breath. In the next, she had to fight not to step backwards, as it threatened to overwhelm her.
"Daunting, isn't it?" Helen said, her voice louder to be heard over the din. Penelope doubted Melantho or Alkippe, at their elbows, had heard. "I nearly turned and fled the first time I faced them. They will quiet soon enough."
As if they heard her speak, the men closest to the door began to quiet. The scattered clumps of tables, three or four men at each, created a maze Penelope and Helen had to navigate to reach the platform where Tyndareos, his sons and nephew sat. She had double reason now to be grateful for the shield of her veils and cosmetics. None but the man directly before her would see her features. She could handle confrontations if taken one at a time. Penelope prayed Athena to intervene that there would be no confrontations.
Quiet spread into the hall from the doorway. Penelope saw a man stand at the long table and gesture toward the door with a silver goblet. From that distance, she couldn't tell where her brother sat, or if Kastor or Polydeukes gestured for her and Helen to enter.
The men were twins, but not identical. Both had the same golden-brown hair as their dead mother Leda, the same sculptured cheekbones and broad shoulders. There the similarities stopped. Kastor was a good head taller. His beard was thicker, his eyes brown, his nose thick as if it had been punched too many times. Polydeukes had a delicacy about him that was all illusion. He could win any foot race, even in armor, and rode horses as if he were a centaur. His blue eyes, like Helen's, had a tendency to see through people. Penelope remembered that he offered her rides on his favorite horse.
"Now," Helen whispered, breaking Penelope free of her thoughts. The two cousins started through the hall to the high table, walking with measured, delicate tread, heads held high. Penelope thought she caught a glimpse of a dark red head at a table she passed, but she didn't dare slow or turn to look.
Tyndareos greeted her, announcing to the suitors that he rejoiced to have his brother's youngest daughter safe under his roof once again. Penelope concentrated on her uncle as he invoked blessings on his guests and entreated the gods to keep happy accord among them while under his roof.
Her uncle had aged in five short years. His dark hair had been thick and curly when she left. Now it looked thinner, dusted with gray. His nose, like an eagle's beak, looked sadly oversized in his thinning face. His shoulders didn't bow, but Penelope guessed the effort it took to keep them straight. A throb of pity took her heart for her uncle.
It startled her to silently calculate his age. He was fifteen years older than her father. He had married late because of the unrest in the kingdom when he took the throne of Sparta. Klytemaistra had been born to his first wife, who had died birthing the next child, a boy. Tyndareos had married Leda several years later. She had immediately given him Kastor and Polydeukes. Helen had been a surprise, born eight years later.
He is an old man, Penelope thought, and blinked away tears of pity. Perhaps it was true that Tyndareos feared to bestow Helen on the suitor of his choice.
Kastor and Polydeukes were adventurers, reveling in their youth and strength. They didn't have the experience of leadership to thwart uprisings. They would be no help.
She glanced at her cousins, and beyond them to her brother. Ithios slouched in his chair, gazing out over the crowd of suitors. His hair was a muddy yellow. He looked heavier, older. His eyes shifted restlessly over the crowd, as if he could find nothing, no friend to look at. His tunic had spots of grease and spilled wine, and that reminded her of Aias. They made fit friends, she decided.
That brought her thoughts back to her uncle. He needed a friend. Support, perhaps stronger than an army bristling with spears and swords. Penelope thought of her jewelry, the few pieces of gold and pearls. If she could, she would have sold it to send a servant to consult the prophet Teiresias for an answer. Unfortunately, Teiresias was dead. She wished she could fight off the problem for her uncle as she had fought off Aias.
Chapter 4
* * *
The slow, stealthy creaking of the door brought Penelope out of a dream of black-haired arms enclosing her and gray eyes that threw lightning to free her. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, smiling as she waited for Helen to creep across the cold stone floor to her bed. Her cousin looked very young in the moonlight, all her golden curls hanging loose to her waist. She wore a short tunic like a bath slave would wear, and had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders for warmth. Though it was late spring, the nights were still cool.
"Tell me all," Helen commanded with a giggle, and climbed into the bed. She perched on the end and crossed her legs.
"Aias thought I was a servant," Penelope began with a shrug. "He offered to help me find the ball if I would give him a kiss. I said I didn't want his help."
"Everyone knows he's here to enjoy Father's hospitality, not to win me, but Father doesn't dare send him away because of his friends. His two purposes in life are to win all the strength contests and kiss every pretty servant girl. Most are more than willing. Your refusal must have been a shock."
"He seemed to think I was unusually modest and said he would ask the king for me." Penelope tugged the blanket up to her shoulders against the night chill. She would have to grow used to sleeping naked again. In the northlands around Alybas, even the summer nights were too cool for that.
"So you fought him. Did you mark him?"
"Scratches, and I hit his face a few times. Grandfather taught me how to box like a boy."
"Oh, Penelope, Aias still likely doesn't know what happened!" Helen wrapped her arms around herself, shuddering with soft laughter. "You said someone rescued you?"
"Prince Odysseus. He came down on Aias like a bolt of lightning and threw him against a tree like he weighed nothing."
"He is not a tall man, and against Aias' bulk..." Helen grew somber. "He must have been furious."
"I know." A delighted shiver took her. Penelope remembered those gray eyes and the memory warmed her.
"I don't understand. Why did he think you were a servant?"
"I met them both at Pylos
, when I went back to the ship to get a doll my father made." Penelope felt no shame in confessing her errand. She knew Helen would understand.
"Let me guess. Aias teased you for holding a doll."
"I told him it was a keepsake for my mistress. Odysseus distracted him and helped me escape."
"It might have been better if you had been truthful. Yet you came to no harm. You were lucky Odysseus was there. He has a reputation as one who treats everyone better than their station." Helen frowned a little. "I've also heard Odysseus prefers a fanciful story to the truth. But my brothers say you could never find a more loyal friend." She shrugged. "Sometimes, I watch the games. Odysseus wins against men taller and more visibly sure to win. He has cunning. He saves his strength and makes his opponents waste theirs."
"He was kind to me. And he was so furious with Aias."
"Penelope, guard your heart." Her cousin reached to take hold of her hand. "Don't consider a man as anything but a friend until you are in your bridal bed with him. Then it is safe to give your heart."
"Helen--" Penelope didn't know whether to laugh or be angry that her cousin would suggest such a thing. She did not want to marry anyone at all.
"I speak from experience. I don't want you hurt." Helen stared at the patterns on the blankets cast by shadows and moonlight. "When Theseus kidnapped me, I was a fool and thought it a great adventure. He took tender care of me. He was a hero, and I easily gave him my heart."
Penelope squeezed her cousin's hands, offering support for what she sensed would come.
"I was a child, enchanted that a hero wanted me. Wanted me so much he would steal me. I enjoyed lying with him. When you give your heart, a man's bed is a wonderful place."
"And?" Penelope prompted, her voice softer than a whisper, when Helen grew silent for many long moments.
"Then he went off with his friend, who also wanted a daughter of Zeus as a bride. When they vanished, he left me carrying his child. Then stories of shameful exploits came trickling in, past the watchful servants. I learned he wasn't the man I thought him. I wanted to come home."
"What of the child?"
"A boy. Dead from an early birth." Helen shook her head and sighed. "When I recovered my strength, I learned to escape my guards and send messages home through traders. My brothers came charging in with their swords flashing and there was no one to kill. They were disappointed, even though I was safe." Two tears trickled down in the moonlight. "So I warn you not to give your heart until you are wed. The dreams of a girl are illusions. I can trust my father to give me to an honorable man who will take care of me, who won't fill my head with lies and dreams. I will love him and care for his house and give him children. But I won't be as happy as I could have been, if I had not already given my heart."
"Sometimes your heart is taken," Penelope murmured. She thought of the sparks in Odysseus' gray eyes when he smiled at her. She acknowledged the wisdom of Helen's words and something inside her cried for her cousin.
"Sometimes," her cousin acknowledged. "We must resist the treachery of Aphrodite. She bestows women's hearts like prizes to the men who please her, with no thought about the hurt she brings. I still dream of a great love, a hero who will risk everything for me. My reality is the princes of Achaia feasting in my father's house, pressing him to choose a husband for me. I confess I am disappointed."
"Don't be." Penelope tried to laugh. "Listen to your own advice, Helen. It's very wise. Wait, and trust your father."
"I try." She shivered, wrapping the blanket closer around her shoulders.
"Do you want to stay here?" Penelope offered. "Like you used to when we were children?"
"Rather than risk Alkippe's wrath, if she catches me sneaking back into my room? Yes, thank you." Helen managed a weak chuckle. She crawled up the length of the bed and slid under the covers. The two cousins held each other for comfort in the stillness of the cool night.
* * * *
"Hail the new warrior!" Kastor called from the doorway as Penelope and Helen walked from the palace to the river the next morning. He laughed at their startled expressions. "Is the tale of your battle with mighty Aias exaggerated?" he continued, and stepped out to join them.
Polydeukes and Ithios followed him from the shadows. Penelope studied her brother. She couldn't read his face. His eyes always held a spark that could be scornful laughter or mischief. She distrusted Ithios, no matter what he said or did.
"There was no battle," Helen said. She took a step forward, putting herself between Penelope and the men.
"Not according to Aias' words and the marks on his face," Polydeukes retorted. He bowed to Penelope, grinning in that way he had which made her feel important and beautiful, even as a clumsy, scrawny child. "He didn't want to talk about it at first. Especially with Odysseus sitting next to him, silent and smiling. Then he warmed to the tale. Some of the suitors say you are an Amazon, switched at birth with the daughter of Ikarios."
"I always held my sister was not mine," Ithios put in, his voice soft, the slightest smile on his lips.
"He's angry because Aias wouldn't hunt with him today," Kastor explained, giving him a disgusted look. "Whatever the tales, welcome home, little cousin."
"Not so little any longer," Helen said. "Look at her. She could take any of my suitors she wants. And I'm glad!"
"Helen the generous." He bowed to his sister. "Always willing to share the things she doesn't want."
"Oh, don't be cruel on such a beautiful morning!" She slipped one arm around Kastor's waist, then reached out for Polydeukes' hand. "Come to the river with us. You do have time to tell us news, don't you?" She led them down the path.
"She wants to know which suitors have given up now, and which prince has joined the hopeful ranks," Ithios said. He stood next to Penelope, towering over her. Helen and her brothers were already many steps away. Penelope looked up at him, remembering slaps and pinches from childhood. She remembered how she had fought Aias and her fear melted away.
"Ithios, wouldn't you like to be so desirable?" Without waiting for a reply, Penelope set off after the other three.
"Be careful, Penelope." Only a few strides of his long legs let him catch up with her. "You have come to the attention of the suitors. You could very well steal some from Helen."
"I doubt that would be possible."
"Aias finds you desirable." He laughed when Penelope halted for a fraction of a second.
"If our uncle has heard the true tale of what happened, Aias would not be allowed to make his suit."
"Perhaps. But my word does carry some weight before the king. You are my sister. Aias is my friend. I could speak for him, when he asks the king."
"Do not trouble yourself." Penelope felt some tightness in her chest fade as they reached the river clearing.
"No trouble. I would enjoy giving you the husband of your choice." His grin turned nasty. "Although, the first time he spreads your legs, he might kill you in his passion. Aias is more beast than man." They emerged from the trees as he spoke.
"Stop there, cousin." Kastor stepped in front of Ithios, making him stop quickly enough to rock back on his heels. He planted his fists into his hips and glared. "Anyone can see such words hurt Penelope. You should be kinder to your own sister."
"And I forbid you to talk to Penelope unless one of us is nearby," Polydeukes added. "You tormented her when we were children. You will not continue."
"Well, little sister, you have mighty champions." Ithios tried to stare down Kastor, but soon had to look away. "I have duties this morning." He left without waiting for a reply.
"Be warned, Penelope," Kastor said. He rested a hand on her shoulder, his touch warm and comforting. "Don't let Ithios find you alone. His reputation falls in the servants' gossip."
"Has it risen?" she asked, her tone sharp with old, remembered hurt. Her brother had always delighted in tormenting those smaller and weaker than himself, while their cousins had always been the champions.
"She does have a point."
Polydeukes kissed her forehead. "We are very glad to have our pretty little cousin home."
* * * *
Penelope stood in the shadows of the doorway, watching as a suitor packed his chariot to leave. This was the fifth man to give up his suit and leave in less than ten days. Suitors gave up daily, and word had come that another young nobleman would arrive in the evening to join the ranks of the hopeful.
"It is a pity more do not see wisdom and give up," Alkippe said, joining Penelope. "Our master already speaks of preparing for winter housing for his many guests."
"The king doesn't plan on choosing a husband for Helen, then." Penelope nodded, thinking over Eurynome's words that first morning back in Sparta.
"Choosing is the easy part." The servant girl leaned against the frame of the door, her eyes on the handsome, bare-chested manservant loading his master's chariot. "There are some princes we servants would be glad never to see again. And others we would give our lives to make happy."
Penelope nodded, choosing to avoid awkward questions. She refused to admit she had come in the hopes of seeing Aias leaving. Her brother's threat sometimes echoed in her sleep, waking her in a cold sweat.
"So many have left, and the summer barely on us," Alkippe continued. "Only one has come back."
"Prince Odysseus?"
"Gossip says King Nestor talked him into returning and trying again. Everyone knows the king favors him and has already spoken with our master on his behalf."
"King Nestor favors Odysseus." Penelope smiled, glad of that bit of news.
"He insisted on loaning Odysseus his chariot when he landed in Pylos. Any other island prince, having so little experience with horses, it would have been a disaster." The servant girl shook her head, a smile twisting her lips. "Many of us wish Lord Odysseus and Ithaka were very rich, and very near. He would have Helen for wife tomorrow, if that were so."
THE DREAMER'S LOOM Page 5