Both men were teasing her, but the gray was such a pretty horse, she wasn't offended. She grabbed hold of Menelaus's shoulder, put her foot into his hands, and easily settled herself on the dapple-gray's back. "Does she have a name?"
"No, she's another one who comes when I cluck my tongue. Call her Shadow or Moonbeam, whatever you wish."
"What about Fog, Rain, or Mist?" she asked.
"Call her Jumping Frog if you like. My gifts come without any tedious conditions."
"Wonderful. Maybe I'll just call her Gift." She waited for Menelaus to mount his horse and rode toward the familiar path. The scenery had not changed overnight, and yet somehow today, the terrain glowed with an added sparkle. She glanced toward him. "Are you happy to have won?"
"Beyond happy, Helen. I'll have new frescoes painted in your chambers, but I want the artist to see you first. I've told him how beautiful you are, but my description, no matter how effusive, is woefully inadequate."
"Thank you, but your compliments embarrass me. Will I be able to watch him?"
"If you like. You must have a maid with you, of course, or I'll not allow another man in your chamber."
Now he sounded like her father. "I want to bring Omalu, she's been with me since we were both children. How many more servants may I bring to your home?"
He brushed away a gnat flitting around his eyes. "Bring your whole household if your mother will allow it."
She pulled a rose from Gift's mane and brought it to her nose. It had a deliciously sweet fragrance and made her smile. "She wouldn't, but will you always be this agreeable?"
He couldn't contain his smile. "It's my hope, but I'll warn you not to test me."
She frowned slightly. "Why would I want to?"
"Oh Helen, you're such
a delight. Some women tease and make promises they've no intention of keeping, but you're as direct as a sunbeam."
"Are you sure it isn't the shine reflected from my blonde hair."
Castor laughed as loudly as Menelaus, and insulted, she tapped her heels against Gift's flanks and left them behind. They caught up to her, but she ignored them until her temper cooled. "You mustn't make fun of me. There's a great deal I don't know, or might misunderstand, but it's cruel to point it out so rudely with laughter."
"I didn't mean to be cruel," Menelaus insisted. "Please laugh at me whenever you wish, and I'll be happy to amuse you."
She eyed him askance. "I'll remind you of that vow often I'm sure."
"Yes, my lady, you probably will."
* * *
The stick horses burned with a bright flame in Artemis's temple, and while they were a small sacrifice compared to some young women's collection of childhood toys, Helen believed she'd completed her obligation. The others danced, to the metallic ringing of the sistrums but the drumbeat no longer echoed the wild thumping of her heart, and she circled the ring of whirling women and girls and moved into the shadows to watch.
Leda caught her hand. "Enough, we should leave before everyone notices how distracted you are." She guided her daughter outside, and they dressed quickly.
"Who wouldn't be distracted?" Helen responded. She tied the cord at her waist holding her skirt too tightly and had to ease it slightly. "I know what's coming, and a naïve virgin wouldn't."
Leda hugged her. "I wish there were a potion to ease your mind so you'd forget your time away from us."
"Then I'd lose a part of myself." She couldn't bear to glance toward the river and rushed along the path toward home.
Her mother caught up with her. "We'll have our feast in the women's megaron while the men have theirs. We'll have all your favorites. The cooks in Menelaus's palace should know how to prepare them too. You won't starve there."
Helen hoped she'd not want to, but she'd never longed to be a wife. She turned toward her mother. "Is it true that I'm Zeus's child?"
Leda halted as though she'd been struck and swayed before catching her balance. Her voice became a hoarse croak, "Your father told you?"
"Yes, and Tyndareus is my true father, not the king of Olympus who'd let me be ravaged without intervening."