David Gemmell - Shield of Thunder

Kassandra moved closer, laying her head on Andromache’s shoulder. “Your bodyguards are very handsome,” she whispered. “I like Cheon.”

The nausea passed. Andromache sighed and looked up at the tall young soldier standing some ten paces distant with his comrade Teachos. As Antiphones had foreseen, Priam had ordered all the royal family to be accompanied by guards during the games and the wedding celebrations. Cheon and Teachos were pleasant enough company, though Andromache would have preferred the more gregarious Polydorus. His conversation was always bright and engaging. However, he had been assigned to Helen.

“You like Cheon because he winks at you,” Andromache said.

Kassandra giggled. “He has beautiful forearms,” she said. “I love the way the muscles ripple on them.”

“You sound like a girl in love,” Andromache said.

“Oh, no, I don’t love him,” Kassandra replied with great seriousness. “Anyway, there wouldn’t be any point. Cheon will be dead long before me, and I won’t live very long.”

“You shouldn’t say such things,” Andromache admonished her.

“Why does everyone become so agitated about death?” asked Kassandra, sitting up and looking into Andromache’s eyes. “Everyone dies.”

“Not everyone dies young, Kassandra.”

“Laodike did.”

“Laodike was killed by evil men. I don’t want to talk of it.”

“It wasn’t your fault, you know. She was dying from the moment the spear struck her.”

Andromache pushed herself to her feet. “It is too hot out here. Let’s go back to the palace. We can sit in the garden.”

“Will you show me how to use your bow?”

“Yes.”

The child smiled happily, but then her expression changed. She cocked her head as if listening to someone. Then she nodded and sighed. “You won’t be able to,” she said. “When we get to the palace, a messenger will tell you Father wants to see you.”

“Whom are you listening to?”

“Xidoros.”

“Has Xidoros nothing better to do than haunt small girls?”

“I suppose it would be very tedious for him,” Kassandra said, “if it was just me. But he has lots of other spirits to talk to.”

Andromache asked no more questions. Conversations with Kassandra were always difficult. The child had been struck down by a brain fever when very young and since then had heard voices. Sometimes she seemed almost normal, as when speaking about Cheon. Mostly, though, her thought processes were unfathomable.

Together they walked down the gatehouse steps, emerging into the shadows of the Scaean Gate. Crowds were moving through, and Andromache waited for Cheon and Teachos to move ahead, clearing a way. Then they slowly strolled back through the upper city and on to the palace of Hektor.

Andromache left the guards in the main entrance and took Kassandra through to the garden. Fetching her bow and her quiver, she called the girl to her. “You see, there is no messenger from Priam, and I am going to teach you the bow.” She notched an arrow to the string, then handed the weapon to the child. “Draw back upon the string as far as you can and then sight it toward the straw deer.”

Kassandra tugged back on the string, which broke, spilling the arrow to the ground.

In that moment a servant came into sight. “Lady Andromache, there is a messenger from the king to see you.”

Andromache thanked the man, then took the broken weapon from Kassandra’s hand. “Very well, you were right, little seeress. Perhaps you would like to tell me why the king wishes to see me.”

“He wants you in his bed,” Kassandra said. “He is going to seduce you.”

“That is not prophecy,” Andromache replied. “I would think everyone in the palace has guessed his intention. He is not discreet with his compliments. Tell me something no one could possibly know.”

“That’s a silly game,” Kassandra said. “If nobody knows, then you would not know it, either. Then, when I told you, there would be no way to prove it. Like if I told you that a sparrow had died on the roof of the palace and had been eaten by a crow. Anyway, why do you want to test me?”

Andromache sat down on a stone bench. “I suppose I would like to know if the voices are real or imaginary.”

Kassandra shook her head. “No, you want them to be made up. Everybody wants them to be made up. I told Father that Hektor wasn’t dead. He was angry and shouted at me. But Hektor wasn’t dead. He came home, just like I said. Father thinks it was a coincidence. I told you that you would need your bow and put it in your hand on the night the Thrakians later attacked. No one ever believes in my gift, Andromache. No matter what I tell them.”

Andromache drew the girl to her and kissed her cheek. “Sadly, I think you are right, Kassandra. We all get frightened by prophecy. So from now on I will not question your powers or seek to test you. And I will teach you to use the bow. I will, won’t I?”

“Yes, you will,” Kassandra answered, with a shy smile.

“And now I must go and resist your father’s charms. You stay here and flirt with Teachos. I shall be back before sunset.”

“Take some water with you,” Kassandra said. “The sickness will come again as you walk.”

“I shall avoid the salt fish in future,” Andromache told her.

“It isn’t the fish,” the child replied.

Andromache crossed the square in front of the great temple to Athene with its copper and amber doors and paused for a moment at the base of the huge statue to the goddess. Elaborately carved, it showed Athene in her war helm, holding a spear in one hand, the shield of thunder at her feet. Andromache gazed at the stone shield. It was perfectly round, and a lightning bolt had been carved upon its center.

“You always pause here,” said the soldier Cheon. “Then you reach up and touch the shield. Why do you do that?”

“Why do you always tug on your ear before asking a question?” she countered.

He gave a boyish grin. “I was not aware of it. Is Athene the patron goddess of your home city?”

“No, Hermes has pride of place there. My father loves wealth, and Hermes is the god of travelers and merchants. But my mother was a follower of the goddess. She learned the mysteries. On the night of my birth she almost died, but a priestess of Athene saved her—and me.”

Andromache walked on, thinking of the long-ago day when she had sat on her mother’s knee and heard of that terrible night. “You were blessed by the goddess, dear heart. She flew over the palace disguised as an eagle,” Olektra had told her.

“How do we know that?”

“Many people saw her.”

“They saw an eagle. How did they know it was the goddess, Mother?”

Olektra had looked momentarily uncertain. Then she had smiled. “You’ll understand when you are older and wiser.”

“But do you understand, Mother?”

Olektra had hugged her close and whispered in her ear. “Perhaps I will when I am older and wiser.”

Andromache smiled at the memory.

From the upper city she could see all Troy laid out before her, the shining roofs of its carved and decorated palaces, its wide streets, its high golden walls and towers, the Great Tower of Ilion dwarfing them all. Beyond there was the lower town, and beyond that the Bay of Troy, crowded with ships. To the southwest she could see Hekabe’s summer palace, King’s Joy, shining whitely in the sunlight. In the distance she could just make out the black dots that were galleys on the Great Green.

She glanced at Cheon. Although the square around them was not busy, one hand lay on his sword hilt and his eyes constantly watched for peril.

Her stomach moved with nausea again, and she stood quietly for a moment until the feeling ebbed. Then she set off, striding quickly toward Priam’s palace.