Helen frowned unhappily. "If I did by some chance, would he give me one of his fine winged horses?"
"I don't believe so, for how could he return home to Mt. Olympus?"
"He would still have one flying horse to ride." She followed her mother and Clytemnestra along the path to the palace. Their bare feet patted the dirt with a softer step than earlier in the day. Lost in the memory of the fantastic dream, she failed to notice how often Clytemnestra looked over her shoulder and frowned.
* * *
"I don't want you to be burned by the sun. Although you are nearly as tanned as our servants. I should keep you inside until you are as fair as a royal maiden should be." Leda pulled a long tunic over Helen's head. "You may watch the races from the roof terrace, but you may not run about among the horses. Do you hear me? You must not risk being trampled."
"This is Clytemnestra's day," Helen replied. "No one will look at me no matter where I stand."
Leda blessed her young daughter's innocence. "You must still be careful. Men wish to impress your sister with their strength and wealth. There will be contests, and many presents, and your father will choose the very best man to be her husband. In time a fine husband will also be found for you. A man who is a great rider, of course, you would never be content with a man who sat a horse poorly."
Helen nodded thoughtfully. "No, he must be a man who owns many fine mounts so I could ride a different one each day." She hugged her mother and ran up the narrow stairway to the roof. Omalu followed close behind.
"We are above the dust and have the best view," the maidservant observed.
"We do." Helen leaned against the stone railing circling the roof terrace. There were many young men gathered below ready to compete. They were handsome in their fine short tunics, but she gazed beyond them to their mounts. Some were raven-black, others bays and roans, all proud animals that pranced in place eager to run.
Omalu nudged Helen. "Look there, that fiery-haired man is staring at you. Do you see him?"
She followed her servant's gesture and recognized him. "He talked to us long ago when we made rope warriors. He comes to talk to father about horses, but I've forgotten his name."
"He's a handsome man."
Helen studied him a long moment, but saw no reason to compliment him. "He must want to marry Clytemnestra, or he wouldn't be here."
Omalu shrugged. "He appears to be more interested in you."
Helen doubted it. "He's just waiting his turn to race." She picked the winners by their horses, not the riders, and when the men turned to wrestling and boxing contests, she lost interest. The men had brought oxen and sheep to show their wealth and there would be feasts with fresh meat each night, but women never attended the raucous gatherings. With nothing to do the rest of the day, Helen took Omalu by the arm.
"Come, we can go to the river and fish. The air there won't be filled with dust and the stink of sweat."
Omalu carried their fishing lines. "I'll welcome the quiet. Why is it men prefer to shout rather than speak softly?"
Helen shrugged. "It must make them feel more manly. Will you remind me to look for a quiet man when it's my turn to take a husband?"
"A quiet man with a great number of horses?"
"Yes, he'll be perfect for me." She skipped along the trail and hummed as she fished, content to spend the afternoon with her maidservant away from all the noise and fierce competition for her sister.
Chapter 6
Sparta
Palace of King Tyndareus
Tyndareus made an excellent match for Clytemnestra with Agamemnon; the powerful Mycenaen high king possessed great wealth and was eager to wed the beautiful blonde. There were wedding clothes to sew, decorations to be made and feasts to plan. Uninterested in the preparations occupying the women in the palace, Helen avoided her sister's company whenever possible. She could ride again without having to weave her way through the abundance of suitors ready to race and felt free for the first time in weeks.
Omalu was afraid of horses, and Helen's brothers had little time for her, but she didn't stray far and often rode into the almond groves looking for the friendly stranger who had given her the pomegranate. She remembered him vividly, even if he failed to reappear. As she returned her roan pony to the royal stables, she found the red-haired young man she met years ago waiting for her.
"Are you still making warriors out of rope?" he asked.
"It was a child's game, and I'm eleven now." She jumped from her pony before he could grasp her waist to set her on her feet. She handed the reins to a stable boy who bowed and led the gentle pony away.
"What games do you like to play now?" the young man asked.
"I'm learning to use a bow," Helen announced proudly. Castor thought it fun to teach her, and she practiced whenever she could.