HELEN: The Wine Dark Sea

"You mustn't blaspheme the gods!" Leda warned sternly. "Zeus cannot be everywhere at once, perhaps another of his pretty daughters needed saving."

"And he prefers her to me? That's not encouraging."

"No, he must delight in you, but I meant he cannot solve every wrong when men are so willful and brutal."

"And I'm about to marry one." Helen moved so quickly along the trail her feet barely touched the ground. She wondered if she'd be allowed to run, or ride, across the Spartan countryside as she always had at home. If Menelaus attempted to keep her closely confined, she might welcome starvation.

When they reached the palace, Leda directed Helen to the bathing chamber. "The water is already heated, and it can be reheated as often as you wish."

Helen waited for servants to fill the big terra cotta tub and then slid in. "There's too much perfume in the water," she exclaimed. "A light fragrance is good, but this water reeks."

With a twitch of her nose, Leda had to agree, and the tub was drained and refilled. "There, bathe with the rose soap, and you'll be as fragrant as a spring garden."

Helen sat quietly amid the soap bubbles as one of her mother's favorite servants shampooed her hair. "I suppose I really must think of whom to take with me. What about Aethra? She's not a servant, but her thoughts are amusing, and I'd hate to leave her behind."

Leda paced beside the tub. "You brought her here, so take her if you wish. After you've lived in Menelaus's palace for awhile, you'll be better able to judge whom you truly need."

Helen bent her head as the servant rinsed her curls with a fresh amphora jar of warm water. She'd leave home tonight with her new husband, and while she wanted to regard marriage as an adventure, she felt only numb. She recalled Clytemnestra's winsome smile as she'd ridden away with Agamemnon, but her own heart held not even a particle of the same proud, yet subdued enthusiasm.

* * *

Although the women's banquet prepared to celebrate her marriage held many delicious dishes with fish, olives and colorful pomegranates, Helen ate only a few bites of bread and goat cheese. She sipped watered wine and watched women she'd known all her life and their daughters sing and dance. It was as splendid a party as the one given for Clytemnestra, but the requisite joy still escaped her. As the night wore on, she began to fear Menelaus wouldn't leave the men's banquet before dawn and then be too drunk to handle his chariot to take her home. She wished now she'd learned how to manage a team herself so neither of them would be in any danger of coming to harm.

Leda nearly skipped across the room. "Menelaus is at the gates, and it's time to light the torches." She offered her hand to help Helen rise. "He's a very handsome man and should be a fine husband for you."

"I certainly hope so," Helen responded and couldn't suppress a giggle. She hadn't meant to drink more wine than she could sedately handle, but the evening had been so very long and tiring. She wore a newly woven multi-colored skirt and fine bolero. With roses laced in her hair, a veil rested lightly on her long curls. Clinging to her mother's hand, she followed the torch-bearing women down the stairs and out into the courtyard.

That Menelaus had brought his magnificent black team to pull his royal chariot thrilled her more than the thought of becoming his wife. He offered his hand to help her into the flower decked chariot. She'd always liked his smile and found one for him. "Can we race to your palace?" she whispered.

He laughed and drew her between his arms before taking up the reins. "Stand here with me, and when we're out of sight, we'll let them run."

His tunic was sewn of fine linen, and his skin held the scent of myrrh. She took a firm grip on the front of the chariot rail and leaned back against his broad chest. He waved to her family and urged the dancing pair of blacks into a slow trot. "There's enough moon tonight to see well and let them run, but I should hold them back and appear to be a proper bridegroom rather than a reckless fool."

"I've never considered you a fool." She waved to her parents, who stood hugging each other tightly. Her brothers were waving with wild enthusiasm as though they were the ones being wed. Tears flooded her eyes as she realized how dearly she'd miss them all. Omalu, Emalia and her brother, Oron, would follow in a wagon at first light with her belongings, while Aethra would deserve a chariot for the trip. She took in a deep breath and turned to watch as the glowing torches faded into the distance.

She felt safe surrounded by Menelaus's strength, and the cool breeze lifted the lingering spell of the wine. She looked up at him. "It's a glorious night, isn't it?"

He bent his head to hear her and kissed her cheek. "It is." He slapped the reins to encourage the horses to hurry along the well-worn roadway, and they bolted to draw the chariot to near racing speed. Helen laughed as the wind tore away her veil. All too soon he drew the team to a placid trot, but she nearly jumped up and down from the thrill.

"Can we do this every day?" she asked.

"Ah, Helen, we'll do whatever we wish."

When they reached his palace, grooms came running to care for the high-spirited team. Menelaus laced his fingers in hers as they entered the columned porch to his palace. Had Tyndareus's palace been closer, she would have brought coals from her family's home to light a fire on his hearth. Any coals she might have carried tonight would have grown cold long before they entered the tall gates. His servants were waiting with brightly lit torches, all jostling to have the first glimpse of the famed Helen. She nodded her appreciation but failed to hide a yawn.

"I'll not have my bride fall asleep in the courtyard. Come, I want to show you your chamber." He escorted her up the main stairway and along the hallway.

She caught only a glimpse of columns painted in red and with gold ringed capitals and the first sight of his palace impressed her as being as fine as her father's. A fire burned in a brazier to warm her chamber, and vases filled with red lilies and wildflowers perfumed the air. Lanterns gave the room a soft golden glow, and she found his carefully planned welcome endearing.

The large chamber was decorated with a grape leaf border painted high along the walls. She turned to take it all in slowly, for this would be her home, perhaps for the remainder of her life. "You're right. The chamber could use some colorful frescoes, but we'll have to wait until after sunrise to judge the light."

"Let's amuse ourselves until then." He took her hand to seat her on the wide bed and knelt to untie her sandals. "You have such pretty little feet."

"Really?" Surprised by his compliment, she wiggled her toes. "I've never thought of them as being anything more than feet."

He stood, sat beside her and took her hand. "You don't appreciate how lovely you are, do you, my love?"

"It makes very little difference to me, but perhaps if I weren't so pretty, I'd have been safe near the river."