The Trojan Princess (2 page)

           
Perhaps, Hector mused, his father had not been wrong in making such a
suggestion. He would gladly marry this princess, for she was far more beautiful
than any of the other noblewomen who had come to the palace to seek his hand,
and something about her demureness intrigued him.

           
“We have much to discuss it seems,” Priam said, smiling widely, having caught
the glances between his son and the princess. He skewered a piece of meat and
turned to Eetion. “How long it has been since last we saw each other!”

           
“And what a shame it has been so long,” Eetion concurred, lifting his goblet to
his lips. “Alas, perhaps in time, we shall see more of each other. I hope.”

           
Priam, taking his meaning, lifted his own glass.

           
“It seems I was wise to come here seeking an audience,” he said, still smiling.

           
The feast continued, and as it did so, Andromache pardoned herself and
retreated outside to the atrium, where she stood and looked up at the stars in
the dark sky above. She was about to return to the dining hall when footsteps
sounded and Hector appeared in the archway, smiling tentatively as he
approached her.

           
“Good evening,” Andromache greeted him, bowing. Hector came to her and clasped
her hands, raising her up so that they stood looking at each other.

           
“You have welcomed us well indeed,” Hector said, gesturing behind him towards
the dining hall, where the sounds of revelry and laughter could be heard,
drifting into the night air where they stood. “It is a great pleasure to come
here and meet you.”

           
Andromache nodded, unsure of what she should say or how she should act. Though
her mother had given her instruction now that she was facing such a man, her
nerves overcame her and she felt herself quiver. Hector was a gentle man, a
kind man, and he did not mention her silence, nor indeed comment upon it, and
joined her in silence as Andromache returned her gaze upon the stars.

           
“You like to look at the stars and the moon?” Hector asked, after a long
silence, in which they stood side by side together.

           
Andromache nodded, half-turning to find him also looking up at the skies.

           
“I do,” she said. “There is something magical about the night’s sky. It is
almost as if we can look up passed Mount Olympus, passed the Gods and
Goddesses, to somewhere far above, far beyond...” She trailed off, worried she
had spoken too much, but she looked at Hector to find the prince smiling,
enthralled by her, his eyes on her, shining brightly in the moonlight.

           
“You are right,” he said, his voice quiet, “They are quiet fascinating. Myself,
I love to look upon the moon. It is as nothing compared with the fiery
brightness of the sun, but yet it is still so beautiful.”

           
Andromache watched him as he spoke, saw that he meant the words he said, that
he was an earnest man and a smart one too.

           
“You are intriguing,” Hector said, and Andromache felt herself blush, though
she hoped he would not notice it in the pale moonlight. “I feel honoured to
have met you,” he went on, looking a little nervous now, as if talking to her
was more fearsome than riding out into battle - something she was sure he had
done so many times without the anxiety that was now written on his face. “I am
glad my father brought me here,” he pressed on, “So that I could look upon you
at last.”

           
Andromache, touched by his words, realised she shared his feelings.

           
“I am glad too,” she said, meeting his gaze, feeling that she could get lost in
such dark, beautiful, beguiling eyes as his. “I hope that we shall meet again.”

           
“I have no doubt that we will,” Hector said, and he took a step towards her,
closing the gap between them so that they were almost touching. Andromache felt
a thrill through her body, but she could not tear herself from his eyes.

           
In that moment, Andromache felt anything could happen between them, but then a
voice called out to them and she took a step away, the spell of the moment
broken.

           
“It seems our absence has been noticed,” Hector said, gesturing for her to go
ahead of him back into the dining hall. She did, hoping that she was not still
blushing when she entered the candlelit hall, but no comment was made as she
and Hector re-joined the high table. Nobody spoke of where they might have
been, though Priam and Eetion shared a knowing look and nodded their heads.

           
“In the morning, perhaps, we can discuss the band of warriors that have been
raiding along these shores?” Podes enquired of Hector. Hector took a drink of
wine, and nodded.

           
“Of course, I’ve heard stories of plunder,” he said. His voice was aggrieved,
and Andromache did not believe his concern was false; sincerity showed on his
face. “Tomorrow we shall discuss what should be done about them.”

           
Podes seemed pleased.

           
“If we do not strike at them fast, more will come, thinking us an easy target,”
Podes continued, assured by Hector’s words.

           
“Then they will quickly learn that we in the east do not suffer there like,”
Hector said, and Podes and his brothers roared in agreement. Andromache caught
Hector’s eye and he smiled. It seemed a smile only for her, Andromache thought,
for no one else seemed to see it, and she felt warmed by his look.

           
“Let us discuss other, more joyous things further,” Eetion was saying, rising
to his feet, Priam with him. “There is much to be agreed upon, and much to be
excited about.”

           
“Let us retire to make the necessary arrangements,” Priam agreed.

           
The two kings left the room, and Andromache felt her heart fluttering. Nobody
in the room was under any illusion about what matters the two men would be
discussing, for it was surely the matter of Andromache and Hector’s marriage.

           
She looked towards Hector, but he was deeply involved in a discussion with
Podes and her brothers. She was grateful that he seemed to have befriended her
brother so quickly, especially Podes, whose opinion and love meant so much to
her.

           
“Fear not,” her mother said quietly, leaning close so they would not be
overheard. “Your future is not far away now, dear daughter. You will make a
wonderful queen.”

           
Andromache looked to her mother and saw she was wearing a knowing look.
Andromache looked to Hector again, and tried not to feel anxious about the
discussions between her father and King Priam in the other rooms. She allowed
her mother the indulgence to talk of a trousseau, her dowry, and Hector
maintained a respectful silence as he nodded at her words. She soon changed the
topic of discussion, turning her attention to bridal silks and jewellery, as if
the talks in the chambers were a mere formality, the wedding a foregone
conclusion.

           
When at last the two men returned and stood before the high table, a hush fell
over the hall and Andromache felt her heart beat faster. She caught a glimpse
of Iliana and Ilisa, peering round a pillar at the far end of the hall, anxious
to hear the announcement.

           
“It is with great pleasure,” Priam said, his voice carrying easily across the
room, “That I announce my son, my heir, Prince Hector of Troy, is to be
married.”

           
“And it is my great pleasure also,” Eetion announced, “That it is to my
daughter, Princess Andromache, that the Prince of Hector is betrothed.”

           
A roar went up in the hall as goblets clashed together, and Podes and his
brothers cheered along with them all. The queen clapped with restraint, though
the triumph was clear on her face. Priam and Eetion embraced like brothers, and
Andromache looked to Hector for his reaction. He caught her glance, smiling
towards her, and she saw in his eyes that he was pleased by the news, just as
she too was pleased by it.

           
Hector lifted his goblet and made to toast her, and Andromache felt her heart
flutter once more. Her nerves from earlier had lifted, drifted somewhere else
far away, for she knew that she would be his wife and that he would be her
everything.

*
* *

           
When the procession from Troy had once again departed from Thebes, Podes was
determined that it should be he and his brothers that would rid the coast of
the pillaging Greeks who had laid waste to a town not a few hours away from
them.

           
Andromache, as she always did, feared for her brothers. They were so headstrong
and eager to prove themselves that she oft wondered if perhaps they didn’t take
a few too many risks in their endeavours to make their father proud, but today
she was too happy, too joyous, to think of danger.

           
She was betrothed to Hector, Prince of Troy. Iliana and Ilisa were perhaps as
excited as she was, and Andromache insisted that when she went to Troy for her
wedding they would come with her, and they would all experience the wonder of
the great, majestic city of Troy together.

           
So excited was she over her betrothal that she did not go down to the courtyard
to see her brothers off, and only when she caught a glimpse of their retreating
backs across the land did she wonder whether they might be drawn into battle
against these violent Greeks who had infiltrated their lands, bringing lay and
ruin and death wherever they set foot.

           
“Fear not, Princess, your brothers are strong and brave,” Iliana assured her,
seeing the look that passed across Andromache’s face at the sight of her
distant brothers. “They will not waver if they encounter the Greeks.”

           
Ilisa looked less certain, though she tried to hide it. Iliana shot her a
furious glare, but it was too late and Andromache turned on the younger of her
maids.

           
“What is it Ilisa?” she demanded. “What do you know that I perhaps don’t?”

           
Ilisa let out a long sigh, ignoring the look her sister gave her, and sat down
beside Andromache on the silken sheets of her bed. She clasped her hand, and
Andromache felt a sense of forbearing descend upon her.

           
“It is most likely nothing,” Iliana insisted, before her sister could get the
chance to speak. “Stories she has heard in the town, my lady, and you know how
those women like to gossip. I wouldn’t put any faith in such tales, not –”

           
She halted at Andromache’s look, and Ilisa took over.

           
“My sister is right, it is most likely not the truth,” she said quickly,
shooting a glance to Iliana, before returning her gaze to Andromache. “But some
women in the town, they were saying that it is Achilles who leads this band of
Greeks.”

           
“Achilles?” Andromache echoed her, fear seeping into her. “Surely he does not
seek to conquer our lands in the east?”

           
“No, my lady, that is why it must be false,” Iliana jumped in, nodding, seeing
the worry on her mistress’s face. “Why would the mighty Achilles seek treasures
from us?”

           
“He does not care who he defeats in battle, so long as he defeats them,” Ilisa
said quietly. “The stories I have heard of him,” she went on, ignoring the look
of horror on Andromache’s face and the angry look on her sister’s. “He has
never been defeated; and his mother a sea nymph, his father Zeus, King of the
Gods. How could anyone hope to defeat him in battle?”

           
“He is still mortal,” Iliana interjected, and Ilisa realised what she had been
saying, and quickly backtracked.

           
“Then again, my lady, it is doubtful it is Achilles who leads these raiders,”
she said hastily. “Just rumours,” she said.

           
“Untrue rumours,” Iliana added. “Pay them no heed, my lady.”

           
Andromache nodded, though she could not shake the thought of Achilles raiding
her lands, killing her people, stealing their goods. And if it were true, her
brothers had gone to fight a man who had never been defeated in battle.
    

           
Making a sudden decision, she rose to her feet, and Iliana and Ilisa started.

           
“What’s wrong?” Iliana asked her.

           
“I am going to the temple,” she answered. “I will make a sacrifice, to ensure
my brothers’ safety on their quest.”

           
“We will come with you then,” Iliana said, but Andromache held up a hand to
stop them as they made to follow her.

           
“No, I wish to go alone,” she said. Iliana and Ilisa exchanged looks, but
nodded and bowed their heads.

           
Andromache left her chambers, her earlier joy replaced with worry for her
brothers.

*
* *

           
Podes and his brothers travelled along the coast in search of the Greek
warriors. Though the journey was hard, with steep hills, scorching sands and
rough tracks to follow, the seven men were spurred on by a thirst for revenge
and a burning of honour within them. They were the sons of King Eetion, and
they had his blessing to vanquish these men from their shores.