HELEN: The Wine Dark Sea

He responded with a sad, sweet smile. "You're forgetting that I also possess the gift of sight and know Helen will survive us all."

She shrugged. "It's true the capricious gods love her more than they love us. I'll miss you. Don't be away long."

Helenus bid her farewell and began to pack what little he cared to take with him for his journey.

* * *

Deiphobus led Helen to his own chambers. "As you can see, there is more space here, and the view is better too."

Not if it includes you, she wisely did not say aloud. "Will you not spare even a moment to mourn for your brother?"

"I'll grieve for Hektor until the day I die, but Alexandros, your pretty Paris, meant nothing to me. I've always wanted you, Helen. We all have."

He resembled Paris with his dark curls and brown eyes, but there was a lean meanness to him that warned her not to speak her mind. "It's a trick of the gods."

"Trick or not, you'll be my wife. Your things will be brought here where you now belong. Pass your days in whatever way you wish, but your nights will belong to me."

He inclined his head to kiss her, and while she didn't shy away, she didn't respond either. He'd come from the battlefield smeared in blood, and she focused on the floor rather than his mocking grin. "You smell like death," she said.

"So do you, beloved." He left her without seeking another kiss.

There was water in a small amphora. She poured it into a ceramic basin, and washed her hands and face to be clean of him. This chamber was larger than the one she'd shared with Paris, but it felt as empty as her heart. She sat down on the end of the bed and began with the first of her cherished memories of Paris. He'd brought light and laughter into a life she'd been merely walking through. He'd been a daring boy, and she'd loved him. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she sat alone, dreading the night.

When Deiphobus at last returned to his bedchamber, he was drunk and weaved as he crossed the floor. She hurried to his side and wrapped her arms around his waist to keep him from falling. She eased him down upon the bed, and he was asleep before she'd removed his sandals. Servants had brought her belongings from the chamber she'd shared with Paris, but unwilling to sleep beside the latest man to claim her as his wife, she returned to her former room and slept soundly.

She sat brushing her hair when Deiphobus woke, and if he had failed to discover he'd spent the night alone in his bed, she certainly wouldn't reveal it. "You appear to be overly fond of wine," she greeted him.

He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Did I disappoint you?"

"Not as greatly as Paris's death, no."

"How long will it take for you to forget him?"

"The day after you forget Hektor," she countered, confident he felt too unwell to mistreat her. She'd shared her thoughts so easily with Paris, but his brother was a different kind of man.

He shoved off the bed, and caught himself before he stumbled and sat back down. "I'd no idea you possessed so sharp a tongue."

"Too many men are fooled by beauty," she cautioned. "It's another ploy of the gods."

"Help me dress. You can do that much for your husband, can't you?"

She laid aside her brush and rose. "Of course."

There was an icy stillness in her eyes that chilled him clear through. He'd longed for her from the day Alexandros had brought her to Troy. He'd dreamed of her, and no other woman had satisfied him. Like all of them, he'd been fooled by her beauty and now felt punished for it.

* * *

Helenus rode to Mount Ida alone. He'd brought a spear and bow and arrows to hunt deer and wild boar, but other than wine, he carried little in the way of provisions. He rode to the rocky crest of the mountain and camped there on the windswept summit.

The air was cool and crisp, but his thoughts remained a confusing muddle. He gathered branches from the fir trees to make a humble bed and went to sleep, but Helen, the lovely Spartan princess haunted his dreams, and he awoke the next morning far from refreshed.

Odysseus had led half a dozen warriors out to hunt, and when he saw a man had taken up residence on Mount Ida, his curiosity alone would not allow him to ride by without investigating. He approached the camp with a stealthy step, but found Helenus in a drunken stupor. He remembered the prince from his visit to speak to King Priam with Menelaus. Mount Ida was sacred to the gods, a favorite of Hera, and he wondered whether or not she might have deliberately provided him with a valuable hostage.

He kicked Helenus' foot, but had to bend down to shake his shoulder to wake him. When Helenus opened a blood-shot eye, Odysseus sat down beside him. "You are a long way from the battle, prince. Have you forsaken your Troy?"

Helenus recognized Odysseus, pulled himself up into a sitting position, shook his head, and instantly regretted it. He leaned over to cradle his aching head in his hands. "Never. I'm communing with the gods on sacred ground. Leave me be."

"A noble pursuit. Do you plan to remain here once Troy has fallen?"