Authors: Esther Friesner
Tags: #Adventure stories, #Mythology; Greek, #Social Issues, #Girls & Women, #Social Science, #Action & Adventure, #Adventure and adventurers, #Juvenile Fiction, #Legends; Myths; Fables, #Fantasy & Magic, #General, #Greek & Roman, #Gender Studies, #Mediterranean Region - History - To 476, #Sex role, #Historical, #Helen of Troy (Greek mythology), #Mediterranean Region, #Ancient Civilizations
“Pay me back by coming back,” he said. “My daughter’s life is in your hands. That’s worth more to me than a fistful of gold.” He threw his wiry arms around Milo and me in a quick hug, and walked away.
Milo turned to me with a
Now what?
look in his eyes.
“Now we go up there,” I said, pointing to where the citadel walls of Iolkos shone in the early morning sunshine. “We’ll find a pair of warriors who’ve come to Iolkos to sail with Prince Jason but who haven’t got weapons bearers to serve them. This quest may fetch more men than the Calydonian hunt. We’ll get to pick and choose from a whole mob of masters.”
Milo and I had to hike a fair distance along the shore before we reached that part of the waterfront where the great ships and their crews waited. Once again I felt my heart beat faster as I looked from one grand vessel to the next.
“Glaucus, put on your shoes,” Milo said. I ignored him. Men scurried here and there on a hundred unknown errands, or grunted under the burden of massive clay amphorae and wooden chests. Some sat mending nets, others untangling lengths of rope. The reeks of fresh pine pitch, salt, and sweat fought each other, no one winning.
“Glaucus…”
Milo’s hand fell on my shoulder and gave me a little shake.
“Oh! Sorry. Were you talking to me?”
“Were you listening?” he countered. “If you won’t answer to ‘Glaucus,’ why insist I call you by that name? I said, put on your shoes.” He gestured at the pair of sandals I was carrying slung around my neck. On the fisherman’s boat, I’d gone shoeless for better footing.
Now I was ashore, and it was pure luck that I hadn’t stepped in something disgusting or rammed a chunk of broken wood or baked clay into my foot. I knew from painful past experience how long such wounds took to heal. What warrior would hire a lame weapons bearer? I leaned against a building and put on my sandals, then announced, “Let’s get started. If the gods are with us, we’ll be serving good masters before the sun’s overhead.”
“The gods grant it,” Milo said. “How do we find
good
masters?”
“First, by finding the
Argo,
” I replied.
“And how are we going to do that?”
I waved away his question. “Easily.” I set off with a light step, arms swinging, heart full of confidence.
It didn’t last. I can’t tell you how many ships, great and small, we passed. The longer we walked along the water, the less certain I felt. I began to stare at every vessel, struggling to find a clue that would tell me beyond any doubt that it was the one we sought. All I knew was that the
Argo
would have to be
big.
Before my brothers went off with Prince Jason, all they’d talked about was how their ship would sail crewed by
fifty
heroes. I thought it would be easy to find a single vessel large enough to carry so many.
There were many big ships at Iolkos, all pulled up onto the shore to keep them safe. Their sails and masts were down to keep any sudden strong winds from carrying them away.
Then Milo said the unthinkable: “What if the
Argo
’s already sailed?”
My heart went cold. Could he be right? It was possible. It could’ve happened the day before we arrived, for all I knew.
Lord Poseidon, help me,
I prayed, fighting back the ghost of bitter disappointment.
Grant that the
Argo
hasn’t sailed without us. Master of the seas, send me a sign and I’ll make a rich thanksgiving sacrifice to you as soon as I have something worthy to offer.
Suddenly Milo tapped my arm and pointed farther down the strand. “Look there, Glaucus,” he said. My false name no longer sounded forced on his lips. I shaded my eyes and let out a yelp of joy when I spotted what he’d already seen: the ram.
It was painted in mid-leap on a green sail edged with blue. Its fleece wasn’t golden, but the next best thing, a crocus yellow brilliant enough to dazzle the eyes. You could tell that sail was still waiting to see its first voyage. When the wind blew toward me, I swear that I could smell the newness of the cloth, the tang of the dyes.
The ship itself was the largest craft in the harbor. The only reason I’d missed seeing it before was that it lay beached between other vessels, around a curve in the shoreline that disguised its length. The shallow black hull was as newly made as the sail unfurled from the single mast, the gleaming prow freshly painted with a long blue-and-red-rimmed eye for luck, to watch over the waves ahead. The prow itself curved up like a beckoning arm, and was decorated with carvings from base to tip. I was standing too far away to see whether they meant anything or were just for decoration, but I was positive that I’d get a close enough look at them soon.
“That’s it, Milo,” I said as we walked a little closer. “That’s got to be the
Argo.
I thought those other ships harbored here were big, but this…” I couldn’t help counting the short wooden poles sticking up in pairs along the side rails. I’d overheard enough sailors’ talk on the few voyages I’d made to learn those were called thole pins, and that they were used to hold the oars steady when the crew rowed.
“Enough of them on this side to hold twenty-five oars steady, so there must be the same on the other. Fifty oars, fifty men, just as my brothers said. And the picture on the sail—”
“Why have they got it unfurled?” Milo asked. “The ship’s not going anywhere.”
“It must be Poseidon’s doing, a sign that he
wanted
us to find this ship,” I said. “We couldn’t ask for a better omen! Now let’s see whether the god will also help us find our new masters.” I started toward the ship, only to have Milo’s hand close on my shoulder yet again and hold me back. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Let me go first.”
“Why should I—?”
“In case your brothers are there.”
I could see he was right. The ship wasn’t deserted. My brothers very well might be there among the men who were swarming everywhere, bringing aboard and stowing supplies. I grabbed the side of another beached ship and pulled myself up to get a better view of what was happening aboard the
Argo.
Craning my neck, I caught sight of wooden storage chests being set down alongside the oars so the crew would have places to sit while they rowed. One man was examining the ropes that controlled the single sail. Another was stowing clay amphorae under the small wooden shelves at either end of the ship, as well as in the bottom of the shallow hull, taking care to distribute the weight evenly.
I let go of the other ship’s side and dropped back to the beach. “All right,” I told Milo. “You go ahead. I’ll be waiting for you over there.” I nodded toward the row of buildings along the seaside. “Bring me good news.”
It was a hard thing to have to let Milo approach the great ship without me. I loitered well out of sight, between a stone building and a shed that smelled of fish and sour wine. I didn’t like being left behind, waiting. I wanted to meet my fate head-on. I also wanted to examine every hand-span of the ship’s body to see where I’d best be able to lie low once we set sail and my brothers were on board. A smart rabbit doesn’t wait until the hounds are on her trail before she digs her burrow.
N
OBODY’S
P
RINCESS
“The plot flows well, and readers will find this Helen interesting…. Fans of mythology or historical fictionwill enjoy this lively tale.”
—
School Library Journal,
Starred
“[A] fascinating portrait of a spoiled child who uses her wily ways and privileges to learn how to use a sword, track and kill game, ride a horse, and bargain for a slave’s freedom. Along the way, Friesner skillfully exposes larger issues of women’s rights, human bondage, and individual destiny. It’s a rollicking good story.”
—
Booklist
“Friesner uses [myths and] legends as a backdrop for a Xena Warrior Princess–type of character of 21st-century sensibilities—with entertaining and popular results.”
—
Kirkus Reviews
“Helen is surrounded by an array of compelling, brilliant women who will certainly appeal to both the fantasy and the myth fans who are the audience for this novel.”
—
The Bulletin of the Center for Children’s Books
“Friesner’s rendering of a vivacious and nervy Helen should easily win fans.”
—
Publishers Weekly
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2007 by Esther Friesner
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York. Originally published in hardcover by Random House Books for Young Readers in 2007. First trade paperback edition 2008.
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The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition of this work as follows:
Friesner, Esther M.
Nobody’s princess / Esther Friesner.
p. cm.
Summary: Determined to fend for herself in a world where only men have real freedom, headstrong Helen, who will be called queen of Sparta and Helen of Troy one day, learns to fight, hunt, and ride horses while disguised as a boy, and goes on an adventure throughout the Mediterranean world.
1. Helen of Troy (Greek mythology)—Juvenile fiction. [1. Helen of Troy (Greek mythology)—Fiction. 2. Sex role—Fiction. 3. Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. 4. Mythology, Greek—Fiction. 5. Mediterranean Region—History—To
476—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.F91662Nob 2007
[Fic]—dc22
2006006515
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eISBN: 978-0-375-84984-8
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