Honored by Man-Vol. 1 Beginning

By Brady Quinlan 1Brown

Honored By Man is an historical novel about the Trojan War. Epic in its scope, it utilizes the Greek and Trojan characters from Homers Iliad and the Gods who pulled their strings. Throughout history fragments of this tale have formed the cornerstone of drama and literature. Each piece engrossing enough to stand alone, mortared together they become majestic.

Honored By Man utilizes all the known history, myth and poetry surrounding the Trojan War and tells the story from the Divine curses setting it in motion to the disgruntled homecomings of the few left alive. It is told from three vantagepoints: Greece, Troy, and Olympus. The cast of characters is an enormous gathering of heroes and heroines with the Gods larger than life. On the Greek side, Helen, with her sisters Timandra and Clytaemenstra, dominate the women; Achilles, Patrolcus, Odysseus, and Agamenmon lead the men. The Trojans are equally strong. The Queen Hecuba, her many daughters and Andromache are the main ladies while the suave Paris, noble Hector, smooth Deiphobus and steady Helenus are the leading men. The Gods play equally with the lives of everyone.

The novel begins in Sparta with all the Kings of Greece gathered to try for Helens hand. The future heroes on the Greek side are introduced as well as the heroines. The action quickens with Paris introduction and subsequent abduction of Helen.

With the scene switching back and forth from the Greek encampment to behind the Trojan fortress, ten long years of war follow culminating in the bloody sack of the city, and the few survivors heading homeward.

Everyone knows the story; few know its entirety. Honored By Man breaths life and depth into the illustrious characters of Homer and weaves the threads of myth, poetry and history into a tapestry savored by all readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 2, 2002
• ISBN: 9781477167939

Brady Quinlan 1Brown

From her suburban home, Brady Quinlan Brown became enamored with the culture of ancient Greece. Reading contemporary authors, ancient dramas, and the history written by the Greeks themselves, she discovered that Helen of Troy had another sister, Timandra. The young girl sprang instantly to life in Ms Brown’s head followed by the famous beauty herself. Over the course of ten years, the entire Homeric cast of characters appeared, revealing intimate detail and behind the scene glimpses of their famous tale. With the publishing of Honored By Man these seductive heroes endure forever.

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Copyright © 2001 by Brady Quinlan Brown.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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CONTENTS

BOOK I

BOOK II

BOOK III

To Pausanias for handing me the torch;

to Paul for believing I could carry it.

BOOK I

Wedding

Look at the lovely men. Timandra sighed longingly.

Look at them? Helen snorted in disgust. Why? They are paraded continually in front of my nose. Leda jumped up and snatched Timandra away from the arch, drawing closed the heavy purple drape which blocked the view of the stone courtyard packed with bursting Greek manhood.

I thought you liked men. Timandra glanced sharply at Helen; her mind still focused on the glistening, oiled bodies.

I do.

Surely then this is enjoyable?

What? Having every prince in our world as a suitor?

Yes, Timandra answered dryly. I would have imagined it to be quite gratifying.

Well it soon becomes dull. Anyway, how could you pick? Helen added offhandedly, What lord would you take Tim?.

None from that lot, if I were you. Since you need my opinion, they are not fit.

Leda dropped the brush she had been using on Helen’s hair and turned angrily on Timandra. Such utter nonsense. Don’t listen to Tim. She is too young to even think of such matters. Hurry now Helen and finish dressing. Patroclus is waiting. Helen ignored her mother and looked quizzically at Timandra.

The men ARE beautiful, and I’d be blind not to see that. So how come you think none of them would do?

Helen, Timandra straightened her shoulders and spoke in the solemn tone of a prayer. The man that you marry should consume every waking thought, and he ought ignite a passion so intense that you’d willingly clear any obstacle thrown up to keep him from you. You wouldn’t have to ask ME if it is the right man; you’ll know it from the yearning in your body and the sureness in your soul.

What bunk! Leda fussed indignantly with Helen’s diadem. Timandra, where on earth do you pick up your ideas? I have told Castor and Pollux repeatedly that it’s not healthy for a young girl to hang around stables; grooms have no morals. Not one of them treats you like a princess.

I prefer it that way Mother, but no groom told me about love. That I knew from instinct.

How could a girl of your age presume to know a thing about men? Unless YOU have succumbed to a lover yourself, and I trust that is not the case. Timandra laughed at Leda’s scowling face .

Of course I have no lover. Yet. But it won’t be much longer, and when the time does come, I shall have the man of MY choice and his power or wealth will not enter into it.

I wouldn’t count on that young lady, Leda scoffed, relaxing. Tyndareus will select for Helen tomorrow and some day in the future for you. Passion will be the least of his worries. Timandra stalked forward to stand in front of Leda.

Having been a concubine of Zeus himself Mother, must have made you attuned to the importance of passion. Leda turned from her younger daughter and focused once more on the elder.

THAT is not a subject for discussion as I’ve told you both often enough. Helen and you will learn to love what husband Tyndareus gives you. If not immediately, soon afterwards. It is the best way. Take your sister for example. Hers is a good match, and she’s happy with her lord… now.

Ha. Timandra smiled in triumph. Yes, look at Clytaemnestra. She’s petrified of the brute. He did murder her first husband , young son and loyal friends. What option was open to her? I would never live like that. Helen made a face at Timandra, and Leda grabbed her arm in a crushing grip.

That is the last time you are to speak of my son-in-law’s past to anyone. If there is ONE word uttered in the servants’ quarter’s I’ll…

All right Mother. His name shall not cross my lips.

I’m not finished. Clytaemnestra and Agamemnon will be arriving this afternoon, and you will be courteous to both for a change.

We don’t get on.

That’s absurd; you rarely see them. She pushed Timandra from the chamber and said sternly as they stood together in the colonnade, Run along now and leave Helen. She has had sufficient insights from you for one day.

Leda’s soothing chatter to Helen drifted away behind Timandra as she passed through the long colonnade and out into the sunny courtyard; there the sound of women was replaced by the sound of men. The preparations for the games were in full swing, and half naked athletes called to each other excitedly while slaves darted about scraping their glowing bodies and handing out wine. The small figure in a short plain tunic passed by unnoticed.

Timandra had planned to spend the morning on the race course helping the twins with the chariot heats, but the conversation with Leda had been disturbing. Without thinking she had taken the path to the olive grove. The grove was her favorite spot on the estate discovered with Helen and used for hiding when they were little girls. As they grew older Helen had abandoned it as a sanctuary when caught once too often by an infuriated Tyndareus, but Timandra continued to feel safe there and loved the grove, using it still for retreat even though the family now looked for her there first.

Timandra walked slowly down the beaten path. It was narrow and led to an ancient dense olive grove. The trees, with thick gnarled trunks, had once been spaced wide apart, but now they grew together at their tops, the heavy twisted branches fashioning a canopy of greyish leaves which enclosed the favored area like a chamber, it’s original attraction. Depending on the season, the ground was covered in sweet smelling blooms of yellow or white, and the thick grass was lush and soft ; the natural contours of the ground formed pillows and supple couches. Timandra came often to the grove when she found the workings of the adult society mystifying, and Leda’s views on marriage had been exactly that. She shook her head furiously at the idea of a girl owning the beauty of Helen having her mate picked by Tyndareus, but what was even more puzzling , Helen didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Timandra was well used to the vague, aloof manner of her sister, but had in the past attributed it to the tedium of their everyday routine. Here now was Helen’s most exciting time, and she if there was ANY change, was less stimulated than before. She treated her suitors with an air of amused indifference, and Timandra thought Helen had reacted with more enthusiasm when their chariot had been charged by a boar out hunting last week… anyway, she HAD reacted.

The slender path turned sharply, and Timandra was both startled and annoyed to see a figure ahead of her at the entrance to the grove. He must have heard her steps behind him for he suddenly wheeled and sprang lithely to stand before her. The man was surrounded by the aura that can come only from pure physical perfection, and Timandra fell directly to her knees. He was very tall, perfectly proportioned and superbly muscled. His hair was a light blonde; his eyes huge, brown and piercingly cold, discomfitting as they bore through Timandra’s light tunic. His nose was small and straight, his mouth hard and set, and the taut skin on his face and body was smooth and very tan.

Up nymph, he pulled her up roughly by the elbow and set her in the grove. It is not required of one to kneel for Achilles son of Peleus.

I thought you were Ares my lord, she said weakly. Surely it is plain I’m no nymph. Timandra dared an admiring glance at his face.

No? Who then?

Timandra daughter of Tyndareus, she squared her shoulders and added formally, also sister to Helen whose hand you seek.

I? He snorted unpleasantly, I want no wife.

What are you DOING here then? Timandra’s voice had returned to normal.

I had considered ravishing a woodland nymph, but unfortunately she has turned out to be the daughter of my host. I shall have to be content with resting and smelling the flowers. The God like form slipped fluidly down on a plush green bank, rolled to his stomach, propped his chin on his hands, and watched Timandra while inhaling the aroma of fragrant Narcissus.

I didn’t mean in this grove, I meant in Sparta. I thought everyone here sought Helen; those other princes do.

I’m not much like the ‘other princes.’ I am here as Patroclus’ companion who for some strange reason has set his heart on Helen. He’s my best friend, so here we are.

Timandra was a bit taken aback by the bluntness of his answer and asked suspiciously, Don’t you think Helen a worthy prize?

Her beauty is matchless I’ll grant you, but what a pain she’d be as a wife. Timandra bristled and noticing her frown he chuckled, Not that it wouldn’t be splendid to sleep with her, but Helen would be so hard. She’d be bored and demanding diversion. Just look at her life so far. Zeus is her father; she was hatched from that egg with one or both of your brothers, then she was abducted at twelve by Theseus, King of Athens whose expolits are known by everyone, and later rescued by the daring twins in a raid, and THIS is only her childhood. Now she has become the most celebrated beauty of our time with kings from all over the world bargaining for her hand and now converging on Sparta to compete for it. Do you suppose she would someday acclimate to ministering to an ordinary man’s needs? Even in the odd event that Helen was happy with the new lord, there could never be peace in the poor wretches’ kingdom. All those losers, Achilles waved towards the suitor camp, would be constantly trying to capture Helen for a trophy. No thanks, not me.

If your friend Patroclus wins you’ll have the warring anyway, or would you refuse to defend Helen?

Of course not.

That doesn’t make any sense.

Maybe not to you. The way I see it is that I’d be giving my life to Patroclus, not HELEN. The bond between us is stronger than some wedding vow. Patroclus wants Helen, and if by some miracle he should win her, I’ll be by his side repelling the invaders, THAT part’s simple. Timandra looked at Achilles curiously; his tone had changed from mocking to reverent while speaking of Patroclus, and his mouth had lost a touch of its cruelty. She didn’t dare speak finding this rapture more frightening than the insolence had been. He broke his own mood, It doesn’t matter. Patroclus hasn’t a chance, nor do my cousins. Tyndareus, always the statesman, has carefully selected, and his only criteria was the safety of Sparta. Your father needs merely to find a diplomatic way to announce it.

What if Helen refuses the choice? Achilles laughed at her.

You don’t believe HER preference will be asked for do you? Castor and Pollux have not been able to push their pet Menestheus. Tyndareus certainly won’t listen to Helen.

If that’s true why does Father bother to have all these games?

Tyndareus is trying to follow the conventional forms, PLUS it is necessary to tread cautiously when one has legions of armed suitors camped in the courtyard. The men are expecting sport and lavish prizes. He has to give them something. Too bad that Tyndareus’ favorite isn’t much of an athlete because it would have been easier to award Helen if he’d actually had won an event.

Who is this man?

You’ll find out when Helen does.

What if Helen is given to you?

Never happen. I know who it’s going to be.

Timandra ignored the hardness in his voice and asked lightly. Sparta is a fine kingdom, and since you’re already here, why not claim me? The second she said it, Timandra was aghast at the boldness of her words to a stranger.

He laughed offensively. You’re a little girl.

I’m not, You did want to lie with me before.

I thought you a woodland nymph. Achilles said coldly.

"But if you could want me…" She stopped, blushing at that laugh again.

You do have a lovely female form and the eyes of a woman. This, coupled with your miniature size, led me to think you were a nymph. Instead, I find that you’re a messy child.

I’m not.

Come back to me in a few years when you’ve grown some.

What if I stay short?

The rest of your family is tall. It is likely you’ll grow, but if not, consider Little Ajax. He’s a good size for you. Achilles laughed again but this time more agreeably. Timandra stared at him speechless as he rose in one smooth motion, sweeping her back on her feet. Achilles bent in mock formality to kiss her hand, but Timandra dropped her head, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. Good-bye sister of Helen. We shall speak again. Achilles was gone before she dared look up. Savoring the feel of his lips on her hand, Timandra started stumbling slowly towards the Palace knowing weakly that she would never be in total control of her life again.

Timandra passed the race course unaware of the rapid horses and gilded chariots swerving around the sharp turn and deaf to the roar from the spectators. Speaking with no one, she reached the Palace. The excited throngs had stretched the entire length of her route, but she pushed rudely through them, going straight to her chamber and collapsing on her bed. Achilles’ face filled the room, and her body was consumed by the awesomeness of his form. Timandra lay unconscious to the growing shadows of the fading afternoon light.

Helen’s loud continual knocking finally brought Timandra out of the trance like state, and she staggered over to unbolt the door.

What’s wrong with you Tim? I have been looking for you all day and pounding on that door for hours. The games are done. You should be dressed by now.

For what? Timandra muttered. She was still dazed but gasped at the sight of Helen. You are gorgeous.

I know.

Timandra thought her sister’s beauty surpassed that of the Goddesses. Helen was tall, and her slim exquisite frame had been draped in lush curving folds of fine, soft cloth of grey blue. The shade matched exactly the color of her huge eyes which were infinite in depth and forbidding in intensity. Her long pale hair had that night been swept up above her elegant neck and was held by smooth bands of silver, thicker bands of which were clasped tightly around her perfect throat and delicate upper arm. Cascading from her ears were precious stones, strung on minutely crafted chains and swinging gracefully each time she moved her head. Helen’s consummate beauty was topped off by a superb straight nose and a sensuous smile of luxuriant insolence. Timandra thought immediately of Achilles and the image of the splendid pair together. The ideal woman. She was experiencing her first sharp stab of feminine vanity and fell in despair upon her knees to pray for beauty of her own. Helen interruped the fervent prayer to Aphrodite.

It’s not like you Tim. You don’t care how you look, and I rarely have heard you call a Goddess for anything.

I care tonight, and I’ll need a miracle.

Get up. We don’t need Aphrodite for this. Laughing, Helen went to the door and shouted commandingly, Aethra! Fetch some robes… green in all shades and my jewels. Shuffling and grumbling could be heard from the corridor as the old woman struggled to comply. Helen went to work on Timandra’s long, thick, auburn curls which had been matted and messy but with vigorous brushing soon glistened and bounced.

Timandra had bathed by the time Aethra entered with arms loaded and her face dark. Helen took the jewel box without looking at the slave and dumped out masses of gold chains. Some she fastened tightly around Timandra’s throat; the rest she wound casually through the red curls. Without hesitation Helen selected a silky fabric of deep green, explaining that it would accentuate the bronzed color of Timandra’s skin as she draped it over one shoulder. The other was left bare and vulnerable. The glossy cloth clung tensely and moved softly with Timandra’s rounded curves. She twirled in front of Helen. Well?

Not bad Tim. You have a woman’s body, albeit minute. Still, I never noticed it before. She led Timandra to the glass.

Neither did I. Timandra spoke to her refection in wonder. Thanks. I HAD to be beautiful tonight.

Why tonight?

For Achilles. Timandra blurted without thinking.

You ‘ve met him then? Helen asked acerbically. Achilles missed the games.

I know. Helen he’s glorious. I’ll die if Tyndareus gives him to you. Helen snorted with contempt for both the conception and her sister. His looks are stunning, but Achilles is unpleasant at best. She added in the tone of command, Tell me how you know him.

There is little to tell. Timandra couldn’t hold Helen’s penetrating stare and said haltingly, Achilles was in the olive grove this morning, and I fell in love.

That part is apparent. I am more curious as to what Achilles had to say.

Timandra’s answer was interrupted by a short knock followed quickly by the door crashing open. They had not been given the chance to respond. Clytaemnestra. Helen said to the visitor without a remnant of enthusiasm. I didn’t know you had arrived. The eldest daughter of Tyndareus burst into Timandra’s chamber and embraced Helen cooly.

Just a few minutes ago. Mother sent me to hurry you two along. Clytaemnestra’s voice was husky, and Helen thought her mouth looked drawn. Timandra stared rudely at her opulent purple robe. The heavy folds covered every bit of her sister’s skin. Clytaemnestra disregarded her and swinging her long thick black hair back, she turned on Helen. You are keeping everyone waiting.

What have you done to your eyes?. Helen asked with disdain. They USED to be grey. With all that paint on them, I can’t tell the color, and with your hair straight like that you look just like an Egyptian. Clytaemnestra frowned but pretended not to have heard Helen’s ridicule and pushed her through the doorway instead of replying. Helen glanced over her shoulder once, giggling at Timandra who was forced to trot to keep pace with her sister’s purposeful leggy stride down the colonnade.

Clytaemnestra made a strange contrast in darks next to the shiny gold of Timandra, and the silver sheen that was Helen. The divergence had never been confined to just their appearance, and from childhood Clytaemnestra had felt alienated by the other two . They treated her like an outsider, and Clytaemnestra resented that her sisters were in a special way connected. The resulting climate was a perpetual hostility, and Clytaemnestra’s visits to Sparta were short and stiff.

Castor met his sisters in the colonnade, brilliantly clad in a white tunic, crimson cloak and an eggshell cap pushed jauntily to one side. He took Helen by the arm and led her by a long line of suitors toward the head of Tyndareus’ table; the sound of celebration stopping abruptly with her entrance. As the pair walked stately down the length of the hall, all who had been acquainted with Helen were awed anew, and those seeing the elegant figure in blue and silver for the first time were staggered by the radiance of her face. Polydeuces, attired identically to his twin, greeted Clytaemnestra and Timandra and led them to places at the far end of the royal table, seating himself between the two sisters. The imperial form of Agamemnon was already ensconced on Clytaemnestra’s left, and Castor swung onto the empty chair on the right of Timandra after seating Helen on his own right at the end alone. The numerous suitor tables had all been turned to face her. She stared back as they gaped, amused by the masses of them.

You look stunning little sister. Polydeuces leaned over and whispered to Timandra.

Thanks. It’s Helen’s doing.

She did a nice job. Where were you this afternoon?

I forgot the races. She spoke slowly, and Polydeuces stared at her in surprise. "I’m sorry Pollux. It was awful of me to miss after I’d promised…"

Doesn’t matter. Antilochus was there to help, SO… tell me what happened that distracted YOU from a horse race? Timandra glanced nervously at her hands and noticing her discomfort, Polydeuces added kindly, I don’t need to know. You only missed the quantity. The quality will be run off tomorrow. Besides we barely got the first heats down today.

Clytaemnestra interrupted Timandra’s reply, calling loudly, Save us some suspense brother dear. Who is the bride-groom going to be? All eyes turned towards the suitors, Timandra’s resting on Achilles who was deep in conversation with a handsome youth she knew to be named Patroclus, and another lovely brown haired one she had not met. Next to this man were the the two inseperable friends with the same name of Ajax. Their difference was designated with the addition of Big and Little; their sizes were at either extreme. Next Teucer son of Telamon whom she recognized from Helen’s lengthy descriptions. Beside them was Acamas son of Theseus who both sisters had known for years. The group laughed raucously with the exception of Achilles who seemed oblivious to the joke.

TIM! Polydeuces had to shout to draw her attention from the close scrutiny of the male guests.

What? Oh… sorry.

We are trying to talk to you. Can’t you hear? It is bad form to stare at company.

I just looked at one. Polydeuces peered acutely at Achilles.

He was not at the races either. Timandra looked horror stricken, but Polydeuces said gently, Achilles could make anyone forsake horses.

He’s so beautiful. Pollux you’ve met Achilles. In the old days I remember you visited his father, tell me anything you can think of about Achilles. It doesn’t matter how trivial… please.

What is it Tim? You’re different, and I don’t mean the robe.

"It’s Achilles, I…"

I see. He grinned at the wistful note in her voice, and she blushed through her tan. I don’t know a lot about Achilles; Castor and I are more friendly with his father. In fact, the first time we saw Achilles was from the deck of the Argo when we sailed for the fleece. Peleus was with us, and we were cruising along the coast on route for open sea when Cheiron, Achilles’ tutor brought him to the shore to wave at Peleus. Achilles was just a young boy but already remarkably beautiful.

Cheiron? The centaur?

The same. He tutored many celebrated sons. Jason himself was one and Aclepius the healing God. But I see by your expression that the centaur’s other students hold no interest.

None. Why didn’t Achilles’ parents have him at home?

Theirs was not your conventional home, Pollux chuckled. Achilles’ mother is the sea Goddess Thetis, and Peleus, his father, was picked by Zeus to be her husband. We went to that wedding; a majestic affair attended by the twelve Olympians although is was marred at the end by an argument between Hera, Athene and Aphrodite. Pollux paused to drink some wine, but Timandra urged him to continue. Late in the evening it was discovered that in the wedding confusion the Goddess Iris had somehow been excluded from the invitations, not purposely, but she was offended none the less. For revenge she stole into the celebration while it was peaking and flung a golden apple on the ground near to where the three Goddesses were chatting amicably. This apple was to be awarded to the fairest lady at the feast. You can imagine the pandemonium that resulted. Timandra nodded, giggling.

Which Goddess took the apple?

All claimed it and demanded of Zeus a choice. Naturally he was too wise to get involved, and he referred the Goddesses to some young herdsman on Mt. Ida. It seemed this man had had some sort of dealing with Ares in the past and had proven himself just in the Olympian eyes. The mountain is located somewhere near the city of Troy. It was a good thing for Greece that the contest was moved from our shores, because there’s no telling what the wrath of two spurned Goddesses could do to the homeland. The losers are undoubtedly torturing that poor herdsman as we speak.

You don’t know the winner then?

Nope. That was the last we heard of the matter. I guess that’s why bards don’t sing of it much. No one likes an unfinished poem. Polydeuces went back to his drink but watched his little sister attentively. Is that all you want to know?

Not even close. I still don’t understand why Achilles was given to a centaur. If Peleus was beloved of the Gods and Thetis an immortal, why couldn’t they educate their son?

"The marriage didn’t work out, and Thetis eventually returned to the sea. The story goes that she wished her children by Peleus to be immortal and secretly burned their mortal parts while still infants. Six boy babies had risen to Mt. Olympus before Peleus caught on. Achilles was their seventh child. Determined not to lose yet another son, Peleus burst into the nursery and caught Thetis dangling their baby in the flames. She had grasped Achilles by the heel for the ritual, and it was the only part of his flesh that had not been scorched before Peleus pulled him to safety. Thetis was livid, and after a screaming fight, she stalked out on Peleus , walked to the shoreline and swam home to her father’s kingdom beneath the sea.

Achilles, which means lipless and the baby was then called this since his lips had never touched her breast, recovered from the severe burns which meant that he was now invincible except of course for the heel where Thetis had gripped him. Peleus was heartbroken and tried to reconcile with his wife, but she was intractable and considered him far too stupid for further contact. Left alone with the child, Peleus turned to Cheiron who had often befriended him in the past The centaur recognized immediately the boy’s superior mind and physical potency, so he gladly agreed to tutor Achilles in his cave. Peleus had no luck renewing his love. Thetis was adamant and certain she had erred in marrying a mortal to begin with. And that, Pollux pointed to the suitors’ table, is the product of this tale. They both stared at Achilles who looked resplendent and plainly more that a little disagreeable. My turn for a question. Why the interest?

I’ve met him.

So that’s it. He patted her arm gently. Poor Tim. You have picked the most improbable lord here to idolize. How could it happen? Leda has kept rigid surveillance on you girls since the princes got to town.

On Helen maybe. Mother doesn’t think of me as female, just trouble. The suitors don’t notice me since they have eyes only for Helen. This morning Achilles was apart from the group in the olive grove. That’s why I missed the race.

"Tim! He didn’t…" Polydeuces blushed furiously.

No, although I would have loved him to.

I am going to pretend I didn’t hear that and wipe the glow off your face. You are far too young to think of lying with a man, and a princess does not show by expression when she is.

Sorry, I’m always in trouble with Helen for giving away everything by my face.

She is right, but control is a sign of maturity.

I can’t be too young to know my own mind. I could live to be a hundred, and no man would excite me like Achilles did today.

That I doubt. You will have forgotten all about Achilles when you’re old enough for marriage. This round is Helen’s, and you’d be wise to stay clear.

I’ll die if Father chooses Achilles for Helen.

No you won’t. You’ll love him as a brother. Anyway, it’s not likely. Peleus made no overtures to us, and Achilles brought no presents. Add that to his sullen attitude since they arrived, and I think you can dismiss him from the hopefuls.

Good.

Pollux pressed Timandra’s hand affectionately to his lips. Don’t worry. Your turn will come, and you will have a prince handsomer than Achilles. Her answer was drowned out by the loud call of Tyndareus’ herald for silence to begin libations. In the pause Helen sighed very loudly, and Castor stared warily at Tyndareus.

The great hall of the Palace was long and somber. Despite the fact that one of the sides was formed by a colonnade which opened onto an enormous bright courtyard, it was perpetually dark. Multiple guards stood at attention in the passage waiting to usher visitors before the thrones. The King’s and Queen’s places were directly in the center, their royal chairs elevated slightly above a slender table which separated them from all guests. From this aspect the hall was not intimidating, but the security lasted only until a visitor had looked to left or right. The cold dark stone reached endlessly and unencumbered in both directions. To the left was a massive hearth, the width of which spanned one wall, the heat of which could not be felt. The remaining grey walls were covered in arms and trophies from Tyndareus’ warlike youth. The hall was sparsely furnished as Tyndareus favored keeping visitors standing with the exception of occasions like the one in progress. Countless chairs, tables and couches could be produced directly, and all the princes were seated. Near the hearth were purple couches grouped around a large silver wine bowl. This area was used for after dinner entertainment.

The slaves used the colonnade to move freely rather than risk passing under the watchful eye of Leda, and the slap of their sandals echoed day and night. The passage rounded the corner with the courtyard, and there was a single step marking the entrance to the bedchambers. The royal quarters ran for one full side, and it was impossible to pass from inside one chamber to the next without first stepping back into the colonnade via two smooth steps. The individual rooms were small but numerous excepting the King’s. This large and ornately appointed suite extended for the third side of the yard and ran parallel to the hall.

Normally the Palace was poorly lit and silent; strangers and family felt compelled to whisper and to dart across the giant open spaces. All this had been changed by the onslaught of princes, and the hall had been transformed into a glaring, bawdy marketplace. And Helen is our merchandise, Tyndareus thought, not realizing he’d spoken aloud.

What’s that dear?

The King glanced at Leda standing erectly at his side. I said you look lovely tonight.

Thank you. Should I stand here for your speech?

No, that won’t be necessary. I shall wait until the men have had a little more wine anyway. This speech does go on. I would like it if you stayed with me ‘till the mob quiets down. You give me inspiration. The Queen smiled at the King’s words, and he held her eyes. They were untouched by the tempest surrounding them.

The attention of the party had drifted gradually towards the imposing royal couple. As they stood arm and arm, it was evident that the Queen was taller and more severe than her husband. The King’s profile was patrician—long, straight nose and high cheekbones. Tyndareus’ noble affect was somewhat marred at close range by his small darting green eyes and thin lips which curled permanently downwards, coupled with a peevish twitch in his brow. Leda squeezed his hand, and he nodded to her to sit down. She slipped into the place beside Agamemnon as Tyndareus addressed the suitors. "I would like foremost to welcome every lord to Sparta. I feel honored to be housing such aristocracy and trust our humble hospitality has been sufficient. I know that each one of you has come here with the same goal of marriage to my exceptional daughter Helen. Her widespread beauty has lately taken on a legendary quality, and the number of admirers far exceeds those collected by any princess in my knowledge. Even Hippodameia had fewer. Your gifts are incredibly fine, and her bride-price well covered. Not one of you lacks breeding, and I would be proud to unite my line with any one of you sitting in this hall.

"So now we come to my quandry, how to winnow out a winner from the herd of prized stock . This ruling holds such weight that I fear far reaching repercussions. You all, or your fathers, are my friends, and I’d hate for bad blood to be the upshot, so I have shied away from the traditional suitor games for a unique course of action. Tomorrow, the winners in the finals shall be presented prizes of my many gifts, but I shall choose Helen’s future husband myself. The disclosure of the prince’s name will follow the competition. Helen will be the last award.

The wedding will take place within the next few days, and I hope everyone will stay on for the celebration. Now, I won’t disturb THIS feast further. Good luck to all in the games and enjoy yourselves tonight. Our entertainment is set to begin once everyone has satisfied their need for food and wine. Tyndareus moved quickly to his place of honor between Leda and Castor’s wife Phoebe while the slaves hustled to fill the wine bowls and disrupted the silence of the hall.

Only three guests were not taken aback by the King’s announcement. Odysseus and Achilles had already guessed the maneuver, and Menelaus son of Atreus had been apprised of the heavy pressure his powerful brother Agamemnon had brought to bare on Tyndareus. He rose confidently from his seat beside Idomeneus and wound his way through the slaves toward the royal family. Grinning dubiously, he hugged Clytaemnestra before bowing deeply to Leda and Tyndareus. A boy slipped an extra stool near Agamemnon, and Menelaus perched his slim body gracefully on its edge. His manner with the family was easy, and Timandra staring at them conversing thought how well he blended in.

Have you ever seen such red hair? Helen asked loudly. The twins looked to where she had pointed, and their casual smiles faded abruptly.

That one is Father’s favorite, Castor whispered. We are reserving judgement on him.

I don’t trust Father’s taste, Helen sniffed, Why don’t you two pick?

We have tried to influence the choice, but you know how bullheaded Tyndareus can be.

He doesn’t WANT our opinion, Pollux added.

Or Helen’s. The twins did not have time to answer Timandra. Menelaus had moved to Helen’s end of the table and couldn’t take his eyes from her face. Castor and Polydeuces rose simultaneously and presented their sisters.

It is my pleasure to meet you at last my lady, Menelaus talked very slowly, and his green eyes were secured on Helen.

Thank you. You have just arrived tonight with my sister?

Oh no. I have been competing all week in the games.

I hadn’t noticed. Which finals did you qualify for?

None.

Helen turned her attention immediately to Castor and demanded a blow by blow account of the chariot heats. Menelaus shifted artlessly in front of the pair not realizing at first he had been dismissed. Helen did not glance his way again and eventually he mumbled inaudibly and fled back to his seat.

Menelaus’ position near Helen was filled directly by Diomedes son of Tydeus, who made his approach on the pretext of discussing the race with Castor. Diomedes was one of the best looking suitors. He had very round, piercingly pale blue eyes, a perfect nose which tilted slightly upwards, a sensual, cruel mouth and coarse bristly, golden brown hair that he wore shorter than his contemporaries did. He was not tall, but what was lacking in height was more than made up for in muscle. Helen had remarked on meeting him, This is a body a sculptor could love.

Castor responded to Diomedes’ questions while the man concentrated on Helen. She stared politely and let him ooze spurious charm. Seeing his social skills produced no reaction, Diomedes redoubled his effort. Helen’s hate of insincerity was her only known passion, and she glared frigidly at him. The man ignored all her signals forcing her to say mildly, Diomedes, save your breath. If it WERE up to me you’d be in last place. But you see it’s not. Father has the power of choice, not I. You are wasting my time and your own with this ridiculous display. It is Tyndareus who you must enthrall with your winsome personality. Diomedes measured Helen carefully, but did make his way towards the King’s place at the table.

Let’s hope that’s not the pick of the lot. Polydeuces muttered. Everyone laughed but Timandra, and Helen stared at her with a frown.

What’s the matter with you?

I’m worried for you Helen. The three of you are so cavalier. What if it actually was Diomedes?

Then I’d marry him. Don’t agonize on my account Tim. I’m certainly not going to. Helen smiled cheerfully. What possible purpose is there in brooding? None of it is significant enough to touch me.

I wish I were strong. Timandra gazed adoringly at Helen who tossed her hair.

Your day will come. Now too much seriousness. This may well be my last night of freedom, and I aim to party to the fullest. Castor raised a hand in motion for more wine.

Helen was left suitorless for one round of drinks before the place beside her was filled by Palamedes son of Nauplius. Both father and son were old friends of the twins, so Palamedes was already familiar with the Spartans. Helen enjoyed his intelligence and gentle wit and was receptive to his shy gallantries. Inspired by her friendly air, Palamedes soon launched into a lengthy description of his latest invention.

It would entail leaving a couple of men on duty during the night. They would sleep by day and remain awake to patrol the estate or campsite in darkness. I call them sentries… naturally the men used would have to be reliable… that’s critical… sleeping on the job would defeat my entire purpose. Palamedes peered at the ladies. Am I boring you? My explanations of ideas have a way of putting a festive group to sleep.

Timandra shook her head, and Helen said firmly, I am fascinated, plus it sounds exactly what Sparta needs."

It is, Castor readily agreed. Remember we have all that trouble with the Messenians.

"We know that SOME day they will retaliate, but it is impossible to say when. They have had years to do it. Castor and I are too busy to stay on constant alert. We KNOW those twins are going to eventually ambush us…"

Then this is it! The spot for my first application. Idas and Lynceus will make a good test case. They wouldn’t be inclined to an open assault, and I’ll have my sentries waiting for their sneak attack.

The Idas and Lynceus referred to by Palamedes were another set of twins from Messene, and cousins to Castor and Pollux on Tyndareus’ side. In their youth the four twins had had many adventures together, including the sail with Jason for the fleece, and the aid to Meleager in slaying his fierce Calydonian boar. There arose an atmosphere of friendly competition among the four, and a spirited rivalry ensued. Castor and Pollux transformed this air of fun into a mortal feud by showing up uninvited at Idas’ and Lynceus’ wedding and kidnapping the brides. The tall, golden sisters were also cousins of both sets of twins and had served as priestesses to Athene and Artemis. The ladies encountered their abduction with rare humor and fell instantly in love with the new lords. Sparta embraced the willowy brides devoutly and armed to fight the Messenian rescue, but none ever came. Eventually, the city went back to a normal routine with the threat still hanging in the air. Castor and Pollux built the brides a temple and a home where the four lived in utter accord. A year after the marriage a beautiful blonde baby boy was produced by each wife. The infants looked to be twins as well, and the household was content. Castor and Pollux were convinced that Idas and Lynceus would someday reciprocate, knowing these two were not the type to forget. They readily gave Palamedes approval to use Sparta as his testing ground.

Patroclus son of Menoetius and Teucer son of Telamon had wandered closer to Helen while details of the implementation were being deliberated. Neither displayed any shyness in their appraisal of Helen, so Timandra felt free to stare inquisitively at Patroclus. He owned the same look of proud assurance Timandra had admired on Achilles, and it gave his splendid features and huge hazel eyes a regal demeanor. Patroclus had a slightly pointed nose, and as he watched Helen assiduously, his eyebrows arched and his mouth set in a hard line, an austerity also akin to that of Achilles but the resemblance ended there. When Patroclus smiled his broad grin struck like lightening; everyone around him was infected by his unqualified enjoyment, and even Helen was laughing loosely a few moments after he’d come to chat.

Where’s Achilles?

No offense Pollux, but Achilles got bored and went walking.

Don’t believe it, Teucer said seriously. Patroclus made Achilles hide so Helen could not compare their looks.

I already have.

Teucer’s whole presence was one of laughter. He was not smiling, but his eyes danced with adventurous vitality and as he dallied with Helen earnestly, she noted an extra fold of skin around his eyelids that crinkled when he’d been amused.

Tell us Castor. Who IS Tyndareus’ favorite?

He wouldn’t tell us Teucer. Nor would he listen to our expert council.

And you Helen?

I haven’t a clue.

Then marry ME. We could run away tonight. No one would notice YOUR absence.

Thank you Teucer, but I don’t care to miss the party.

I knew if we left you alone Teucer you would try and sneak Helen out of here. Teucer frowned at Little Ajax and Acamas, additions to the growing crowd around Helen.

"Didn’t work though. Helen… have you met Theseus’ son Aca…"

Know both. She smiled enchantingly. However, Ajax is too short, and I have sampled Acamas’ line in the past. I am looking for something new this round. Her expression was so serene that the three men were not sure they’d heard correctly. Helen reverted her attention to Patroclus, but they had only been speaking a second when the Lapiths pushed forward.

"Helen, you know…"

Of course. Polypotes’ father was once my captor, and Leonteus and I met at the games. Both men bowed stiffly, embarrassed by Helen’s reference to Perithious in spite of her encouraging smile as she assessed their lean, long frames. Perhaps if YOU are chosen Polypotes we might invite some centaurs to the ceremony. All but Polypotes chuckled at Helen’s remark.

My parents don’t think their wedding was a joke Helen.

No, I’d guess that drinking, marauding beasts and a centaur king humping the radiant bride would hardly be funny.

The bride wasn’t the only one, Teucer put in somberly. But your parents did bring it on themselves.

I know, Polypotes replied glumly, running his fingers through his hair. The worst of it is they had left out Ares and Iris to AVOID trouble. All the other Gods were invited.

That seems dumb, also not having the sense to order a slave to mix the centaurs’ wine.

"Well, with all the heroes in attendance one would have thought they could’ve made short work of drunken, furry beasts; there weren’t that many of…"

It took an entire day Helen, and my people are still warring those creatures.

Still… all that talent?

The heroes hadn’t come to fight Helen.

Neither had the centaurs Tim.

A group of Athenians were next to try and squeeze their way close to Helen. Led by their king, Menestheus a long time friend of the twins, the group included Stichus, Bias and Demophon, another son of Theseus. Helen chatted with the newcomers for a minute and then stood up; her abrupt action resulting in silence. I need to shed suitors for awhile and to give my facial muscles a rest. Tim? Timandra jumped up and chased after Helen who was already in the midst of the disorder and busy extracting Antilochus from his brother Thrasymedes and Machaon the surgeon. Deserted, Helen breathed the air deeply as they stepped into the moonlit courtyard. She linked her arms through that of Antilochus and Timandra and set off at a leisurely pace. Let’s stroll. They moved in circles, and Timandra feared she would burst. At last she was a part of the adult world. Helen could sense this exaggerated anticipation. Take it easy Tim, it’s only one feast.

Not just a feast Helen. Your whole life is being decided in there. Mine too if it turns up Achilles.

You must learn to put less emphasis on trivial matters.

TRIVIAL? Your husband?

Yes. Outsiders don’t touch me, even husbands. I had presumed YOU to be the same. Timandra could not see Helen’s face but knew well the look of disapproval that accompanied that particular tone. She felt no animosity to Helen’s criticisms, confident that if it were possible to master the advice she would be perfect, as Helen herself had always been. Timandra saw Helen as the ultimate height a woman could attain and was proud Helen bothered to teach her things at all. Anyway Tim, the man will be doing the adjusting in my marriage.

Who is tonight’s favorite? Antilochus asked lightly. It looked like those Athenians were drooling over you.

Who here doesn’t? You must be forgetting that I was raped by their father.

I thought you had.

No Antilochus. What I HAVE forgotten is the act itself. The fact that Theseus did it is quite clear.

Maybe you fainted.

Who cares? Tyndareus would never give his precious daughter to the son of an animal.

I guess not.

I wonder why those two came at all.

They had to Tim. Castor and Pollux were the victors.

Do you suppose they are mad we use their grandmother for a maid?

Doesn’t matter, she was spoil. Neither prince has ever said a word, but Aethra complains constantly about her lot. They might have been GLAD to get rid of her.

What a come down. You girls aren’t even nice to the poor woman.

She’s a terrible maid.

Did Acamas or Demophon ask to see her while they’re here?

No Antilochus, but I’m certain Aethra sneaks into the suitor camp at night. He laughed.

Along with every other female in Leda’s service.

Why don’t we get Acamas to take Aethra home? We hate her anyway.

Nope, Helen said tightly. Aethra belongs to the twins, and she was small payment for the injustice perpetrated on me.

She was not the only spoil.

ALL Athens needed to be punished Tim. I was just twelve.

You have always been beyond your years.

THAT could be because of Theseus.

It’s not, and you know it Helen. You haven’t a trace of conviction in your voice. Helen pretended not to have heard Timandra’s remark.

The other one’s son is quite nice.

Beautiful.

You girls have lost me somewhere.

Sorry Antilochus. Remember Theseus’ partner in crime, Peirithous? Helen was referring to his son Polypotes.

I had forgotten him.

He was drunk with Theseus when the idea struck them to kidnap famous beauties. As you know Theseus’ wives had a nasty way of disappearing and at that time Peirithous was a widower. They pledged to help each other in the acquisition. I was taken first and hidden in Tegea while they drew lots for whose bed I would grace. Theseus won . Hard pressed to come up with someone whose looks were equal to mine, they hatched a new plan—to go for a Goddess. Peirithous like a fool, set his sights on Persephone. Angry, but bound by an oath and friendship, Theseus descended with him to Hades. Naturally the pair were caught and torturously imprisoned in the underworld. I was meanwhile stashed in Aphidane at the home of Academus. Now it just so happened that Hercules was in Hades for one of those labors, and he saw his old friends impounded. He was able to pull Theseus loose, but Peirithous they had to leave behind. You know the rest?

Sort of. Antilochus replied. Timandra continued as it was clear Helen had become bored.

"In Theseus’ absence Castor and Pollux captured Athens, recovered Helen, and set Menestheus on the throne to rule in Theseus’ stead. Menestheus’ own father had been banished by Theseus, so he had no loyalty. When Theseus finally made Athens, it was as a broken man.