HELEN: The Wine Dark Sea

"None whatsoever, sire," his companion added.

After a stressful moment, Priam released a regretful sigh. "I can't say whether Helen is with Alexandros or not, because he has not returned here to our home. They may be together wherever they are, or they may not, but they are not here. You may return to your King Menelaus and assure him we have not seen either Alexandros or his queen."

Rather than turn belligerent, the emissaries bowed to the king and returned to their ship rather than insult King Priam with any further questions. Their mission had been a simple, if dangerous one, and they feared returning home with no answers.

* * *

Menelaus went to his brother's palace when summoned, but he understood from the messenger's expression the news wasn't good. He knew the men who had been sent to Troy and trusted their judgment. He paced Agamemnon's megaron as they spoke together. "You've no doubt as to King Priam's sincerity?" he asked.

"None, my lord. His surprise at our visit was genuine rather than pretense. He looked sincerely befuddled, as though he could not even imagine Helen being with Alexandros. The breach of honor was his obvious consideration."

Deeply discouraged, Menelaus dismissed them and looked toward his brother. "Where could he have taken Helen if not to Troy?"

"Phoenicia," Agamemnon replied with a shrug, "or Cyprus, perhaps he took her into Egypt. It doesn't matter where they went. That he took Helen is certainly grounds for war. My emissaries saw a great deal. They counted able-bodied men as well as the king's warriors, and the number of ships along the coast. The Trojans believe they are safe behind their mighty walls, but we can draw them out, and they'll be easily defeated, as they're no match for our superb warriors."

"I wouldn't count on it being easy," Menelaus warned. "War never is."

Agamemnon chuckled. "We'll have a righteous cause, and warriors who've never been cautioned against being brutal. Troy and her riches are already ours. Alexandros will return home before long. His passion for Helen will be the ruin of Troy, and you'll not only have Helen returned to your bed, but as many Trojan women as you'd ever desire."

"You understand nothing," Menelaus lamented. "Helen is the only woman I'll ever want, and there will be no others."

"You're love-struck by the gods, Brother." He laughed, shook his head and then paused before making a thoughtful suggestion. "Do you remember how Tyndareus forced all of Helen's suitors to swear their allegiance to you?"

"I do."

"Good, so will they when we call upon them to keep their vow. Alexandros may have thought you'd be unable to force him to return Helen on your own, but he couldn't have realized you'd come with the immense army of allies we'll raise. Think of it! All the kings of Greece will join us, and it will be the greatest army ever assembled. The bards will sing of this war for a thousand generations."

Menelaus sat slumped across his chair and swallowed the last of the wine in his cup. The bloody images flooding his mind were not anything he'd want bragged about or remembered. "I just want Helen, my Helen," he whispered to himself.

Chapter 20

Egypt

Land of Refuge and Adventure

Troy carried on an active trade with Egypt, and the men with Paris knew a welcoming bay where they could erect tents along the shore. He gathered thick carpets and soft pillows from nearby villages and built a miniature palace for Helen. He asked her to call him Paris, the name he'd always known, rather than Alexandros. His descriptions of his youthful adventures filled her days with laughter. At night, he enveloped her in the magical sweetness of his love, while hauntingly beautiful music from harpists and flutists floated on the perfumed air.

He awoke one dawn to find her peering through the opening of the pavilion. "It will be another golden day," he proclaimed and drew her into his arms. "What if I found horses to ride, would you like that?"

She turned to face him and stroked his cheek. "Very much. We should go early before it becomes too warm."

"I notice nothing but you when we're together."

"You must learn to see far more." She kissed his eyelids. "I love staying here and simply watching the sea and letting the days roll past without a thought save those of each other, but one day soon, shouldn't we return to your Troy?"

He hugged her tight. "One day," he promised with a teasing glance, and he smothered her lilting giggles with kisses.

Later, they rode along the edge of the surf, and the horses' hooves sent up drenching salty sprays. Helen had never spent such carefree days and loved how eager Paris was to amuse her. She refused to let her mind drift past the moment to the life she'd left behind, and gloried in the beauty they shared together.

* * *

In the afternoon, Paris and Helen often played knucklebones, which involved tossing anklebones of sheep and catching them on the back of the hand. It was a silly game she'd played as a child with Omalu, but Paris made any pastime fun.

One afternoon, an Egyptian servant brought them a beautiful new game to play. "It's called Shebahu er sabu, or in your language, Hounds and Jackals."

"I love games. How is it played?" Helen asked.

The servant responded with a respectful bow. He set down a rectangular wooden box, and pulled out the hidden drawer to remove the game pegs, which had beautifully fashioned animal heads. The top of the box formed the game board. A painted palm tree in the middle separated two lines of carefully drilled holes.