Glyn Iliffe - The Oracles of Troy (The Adventures of Odysseus)

Helen rushed to the king’s side as he slumped back into his throne, drained by his anger and fighting for breath. She was joined a moment later by Deiphobus, the prince’s hand touching hers as they sought to calm the old man.

‘I must insist on this point,’ Antimachus continued, with a boldness he would never have dared to show before the deaths of Hector and Paris. ‘Helen has brought great evil to Troy. Tens of thousands of Ilium’s young men have died for her sake, leaving many thousands more widows and orphans. Your commands will always be obeyed, great king, but only so long as you have subjects to follow them. Give her back before she proves the end of us.’

‘You go too far, Antimachus,’ said another elder, rising from his chair. ‘Destruction may have followed Helen to Troy, but the guilt is not hers alone. She’s as much a victim as any of us – a victim of men’s lust and the cruel gods that gave her such beauty. Let the king deal with her as his greater wisdom sees fit, and pray to the gods he doesn’t deliver you to the Greeks instead!’

Helen looked at Antenor with gratitude. Though he had once hosted Menelaus when he had come to Troy on a mission of peace – and his sympathies for the Greek cause were well known – he had never shown her anything other than the greatest courtesy and kindness. Yet compassion of his kind was rare, and however much she was to blame for bringing war to Troy, unless she left soon its doom would be sealed.

‘Whatever the cause of this war, Antimachus is right,’ she said. ‘If I stay here, Troy will be razed to the ground, every man, woman and child slaughtered. One way or another, the Greeks will be victorious. But now that my husband is dead, what reason is there for the war to go on? Send me back to Menelaus and save yourselves.’

‘Never,’ said Helenus, his high voice out of place in the presence of so many old men. ‘Agamemnon doesn’t give a damn about you, Helen. All he wants is Troy.’

‘Helenus is right,’ Apheidas agreed. He had moved unnoticed to lean against one of the broad black pillars, his battered armour gleaming in the firelight. ‘This war was always about who would rule the trade routes across the Aegean – Paris and Helen were just the spark in the kindling. Agamemnon is typical of all Greeks, greedy and self-serving; he won’t go home until the threat of Troy has been wiped out, now and forever.’

‘ He may not,’ Helen retorted, ‘but there’ll be nothing to keep the other kings here. If I’m returned their oaths will be fulfilled and Agamemnon won’t be able to stop them leaving. And for all the power of the Mycenaeans, they can’t win this war alone.’

There were voices of agreement from the elders, many of whom looked to Priam’s bowed head in anticipation. Eventually the king raised his eyes to meet Helen’s.

‘I will not throw you out now, Helen. Not after we have fought ten long years to keep you here. Besides, I love you as if you were my own flesh and blood, and with Hector and Paris gone it would break my old heart to lose you too. No, this much I have decided: that you will remain a princess of Troy, and that for your own protection you will marry one of my other sons.’

‘For my protection ?’ Helen exclaimed. ‘Surely –’

‘Don’t argue with me, Daughter. The widows of Troy’s fallen are gleeful that you’ve joined their ranks and are full of mockery for you now, but the death of your husband hasn’t lessened their hatred for you. Widowhood is a hard and lonely place to find yourself, and your son, Pleisthenes, won’t be of much help to you with his withered hand. But if you marry one of my other sons your position will be restored, and both Deiphobus and Helenus have asked me to make you their wife.’

‘I don’t want Deiphobus, or Helenus!’ she protested.

‘So you would prefer Menelaus?’ Helenus asked, his tone aloof.

‘I only ever wanted Paris.’

‘Paris is dead,’ Apheidas reminded her. ‘He can never share your bed again, or meet the intimate needs a woman like you craves. And though your love for him is still fresh, his ghost has already lost all memory of you. Helenus, on the other hand, is alive and full of youthful strength. He can fulfil you again, and in time you will learn to love him like you did Paris.’

‘A boy!’ Helen scoffed, shocked by the suggestion and yet mystified as to why Apheidas had taken it on himself to support Helenus. ‘He’s the same age as Pleisthenes. He’s barely started growing a beard!’

‘What you think doesn’t matter,’ Apheidas snapped. ‘The choice belongs to your father, and what’s more, Helenus has something to offer in return for your hand. Haven’t you, Helenus.’

Every eye turned to the prince, who had been staring lasciviously at the outline of Helen’s body beneath her dress, before realising all attention was suddenly upon him. He switched his gaze to his father, who was leaning forward from his throne to look at his son.

‘And what is this thing with which you think you can buy my favour?’ Priam demanded, slowly.

‘A new prophecy, Father,’ Helenus answered. ‘One that will ensure the safety of Troy forever.’

‘Then share it with us, Son. Tell me what I must do to keep my people safe.’

Helenus swallowed and glanced at Apheidas, then back at his father. The colour had drained from his face.

‘Not until Helen is my wife.’

‘What?’

‘Not until Helen is my wife.’

‘Do you dare defy me?’

Priam’s voice was like a clap of thunder, silencing the great hall in an instant. Helenus looked at him fearfully, but something within him knew that if he revealed the oracles Cassandra had shared with him then his father would have no reason to make Helen his wife. He forced his lips shut and looked down at his sandals.

‘So be it,’ Priam said. ‘And what about you, Deiphobus? What do you have to bribe me with?’

‘Nothing, Father, except my loyalty and my courage in battle, which I have shown again and again – unlike my younger brother, who has yet to raise a weapon in anger against Troy’s enemies. But there is one thing I can offer that is genuine and true. My love for Helen.’

He looked at his sister-in-law, who met his gaze without flinching. Both she and Paris had always known of Deiphobus’s love for her and so the revelation came as no surprise. It was clear from the way his expression changed when she entered a room, and from his unfailing defence of her whenever anyone dared to question her presence in Troy. Paris had found his younger brother’s infatuation amusing, though Helen had felt only sympathy for Deiphobus, knowing that his love could never be returned. Paris’s death had done nothing to change that.

‘I have loved you since the first moment I saw you ten years ago at the Scaean Gate, when you were standing in Paris’s chariot,’ he declared. ‘I’ve never stated my feelings openly, but you must have known them. And though it isn’t my intention to disrespect Paris’s memory so soon after his funeral, I believe you have to marry again for your own protection. My father has said as much, and if he indeed loves you like one of his own daughters he will forget Helenus’s supposed oracle and allow you to choose your own husband.’

‘No!’ Helenus protested. ‘Are we peasants, letting our women choose their own husbands for the sake of love ? Father, I insist that you decide between us, not a mere woman whose judgement will be dictated by emotion and desire.’

‘If I were to choose, Helenus,’ Priam asked, arching an eyebrow at his son, ‘what qualities would I see in you? Indeed, you show your inexperience and ambition when you speak of Helen with such disregard. Remember this: a man cannot find happiness in marriage unless his wife is happy too. And for that reason Deiphobus is right – I will give the choice to Helen.’