Storiesonline.net ------- Helen by Prince von Vlox Copyright© 2006 by Prince von Vlox ------- Description: Kalliste's story about Helen of Troy. Codes: no-sex hist ------- Sarah had brought her new daughter to the Co-op. The girl was little more than a tiny face attired in a pink cap and wrapped in a blanket. The women took turns holding her, talking about the birth with Sarah, and asking her what her plans were. Finally Kalliste Periakes, the baby on her shoulder, asked the one question everyone had missed. "What's her name?" "Her father wanted to call her Matilda," Sarah said. She made a face as the women around her burst out laughing. "I couldn't see saddling a young girl with a name like that, even if he is from Australia. I vetoed his second choice, too, Sheila." "Sheila isn't so bad," Sheila Bernhardt said. "My Dad was stationed in Australia," Sarah replied. "No offense, Sheila, but I wasn't going to name my daughter that." "So what did you finally decide on?" Kalliste swung her dark hair over her shoulder with a practiced flip. "Hopefully you gave her a beautiful name." "I gave her the most beautiful name in the world," Sarah said. "I named her Helen, after the world's most beautiful woman." She took her daughter from Kalliste's shoulder and held her in her arms. "Helen Carol Sanderson." "Look at Kalliste's face," Anna said. "A quarter says she knows a story about Helen of Troy." Several of the women laughed, but nobody offered to take her bet. Kalliste stared at the baby with her too-wide eyes, her generous mouth in a slight smile. "I named my daughter Ariadne," she said softly. "That means princess. She was a beautiful baby, but I never thought to name her Helen." She sat on one of the tables. "I have papers to grade for that evening Intro to Archaeology class I've been teaching, but in honor of Sarah's daughter I'll tell you a story about Helen of Troy, though she really should be called Helen of Sparta." ------- Helen. A perfect face, hair rich and golden, eyes deep blue and lustrous, and a figure that made men desire her from the moment they saw her. Helen. I have had a fondness for the name since I beheld the first one in Vaphios. Of the children I have borne, none have been named Helen; who could hope to match the original? We would be pale imitations of her, just as humans are but poor imitations of Them. Helen. A Queen in name, a Queen in spirit. She was Their tool, and she knew it. Well did she suffer the burden placed on her. Well did she accomplish Their bidding. And her reward? She was restored to the loving arms of her husband, restored to a kingdom diminished by war. But because of her, and what was done in her name, a people, a way of life, a way of thinking, lived on. By her acts, by the war that raged in her name, a catastrophe was assured that, yet, was the fertile soil for a way of life that has enriched the human race ever since. Few are called to perform the great tasks for Them, fewer still know the price to be paid before they start. Helen knew that price, and she met it with clear eye and courage to spare. Few women, few people, could do half as well as she. I journeyed to Vaphios at the behest of the Lady Atane. My duties were simple, to groom Helen to be Queen. Her father held with the old ways; whosoever she married would be king. Others taught Helen to weave, to barter, to cook and do those thousand other domestic chores. I taught her how to be a Queen. I schooled her in the Mysteries, taught her to look past the surface, to judge fairly, to divine what other people held dear, how to hide her goals, but get others to work towards them for her. I taught her that some times you have to give before you can get--many a piece of silver has been made only after spending other silver. Helen learned well, and the lessons I would teach her in the morning she would use to good effect in the afternoon when learning the work of the palace. At first Atane visited us every year, posing as an old friend of mine from K'ftiu. Later, in another guise, she revealed Herself to Helen at one of the shrines. She worked carefully with the child, imposing Her will subtly, making the child want to do things rather than simply compelling her to do them. Helen responded well, reserving her playful side for the times when we were alone, but being serious and attentive when out with the people. By the time she was of age to wed Helen displayed the mature judgment of a woman twice her years. I had gone beyond being the priestess who instructed her, I was now her confidant, her friend and her closest advisor. But I kept my mouth closed, and chose to be away when suitors called upon her that summer. Atane and I had discussed it years before. This was a decision Helen had to make on her own. And she chose well. She passed over Odysseus, who in any case had his eye on someone else. She passed over Agamemnon and a dozen others. As everyone knows, she settled on Menelaos, a quiet man of decisive authority who lived in his brother's shadow. It was a good match, and Menelaos quickly settled in to learn how to be King. Three years passed, quiet years, but I felt as if I were outside on a summer day with the thunderclouds building above my head. That tingling feeling you get on such days never seemed to leave me. I had a good idea of what was going to happen, and I had a fair idea of what it meant. But I did not know when it would happen. For Helen and Menelaos it was a time of peace and happiness. She bore him a daughter, a child so beautiful I could see the mother in the daughter. A year after that Menelaos assumed the throne upon the death of King Tyndarios. There were challenges to the borders of the kingdom as there always were when a new king took the throne, and Menelaos proved he had learned well the lessons of war. In those years he proved to all but his older brother Agamemnon that he was a king in truth as well as name. He ruled a happy, prosperous land, a land well respected by its neighbors, a land that fit his hand like the reins do that of the chariot driver. And like a good horse team, the land responded to Menelaos' guidance. And so the stage was set when Prince Alexandros of Illios came to visit. Prince Alexandros was an older, rough-hewn man, square of face and body. He had a faint tracery of scars on his arms, and thick calluses on his hands that spoke of more familiarity with spear and shield than with plow and tiller. His beard, brown with flecks of gray, showed a line of white across his cheek from an old scar. His cape had been thrown back over his shoulder to reveal his broad chest and the rich fabric of his tunic. When he strode through the entrance hall at Vaphios he reeked of dust and sweat, and his sandals sounded hard on the polished stone of the steps. Menelaos greeted him with the open warmth he gave to everyone. Together they talked of trade, of relations between kingdoms, and of more familiar things. Soon Alexandros' booming laugh filled the hall. We ladies of the court hung over the railings above the hall, watching this important stranger. Everyone knew he was from Illios. Rumor filled in where facts left off, and the rumors were many: that he was seeking an alliance against other kings, that he was here to negotiate the free passage of our goods to the lands beyond Illios, that he was after the hand of Helen's younger sister. The stories chased each other around the halls. None asked me, nor would I have answered. I did not have to guess, I already knew this was the man Atane had told me about. I gazed upon him with some interest. This was Prince Alexandros, eldest son of King Priam of Illios. Years before he had led the fighting men of Illios south to fight under the banners of Muwatallis, the Great King of the Khatti. Stories were still told of that epic battle against the Pharaoh of Egypt outside the walls of Kadesh. For years the fighting men of the Argolid had boasted of what they would have done had they been there. Their longing for a chance to perform epic deeds drove the low scale warfare that so bedeviled their lands. And now Prince Alexandros was here, officially on a trading mission. In these times fighting men led the trade delegations. It wasn't like the old days, when unarmed merchants could sail the seas under the distant protection of M'Nos. "Do you think him handsome?" one of the servant girls asked in a whisper after Menelaos and Alexandros had moved to another room. Helen gestured us all back from the railing, and we retired to our quarters and our weaving. I took my place at the shuttle and resumed passing it back and forth to Riamare, a young lady from an up-country household. "I don't think he's that handsome," Riamare said. "And he's older than I thought." "His younger brother is more handsome," I said. "Which younger brother?" Riamare asked sharply. "I hear King Priam has 50 sons." "He has that many," I said, "but he only had five children by his wife. His younger brother, Prince Hektor, is as slim as a spear, and totally dedicated to war." "He would fit in well here," Riamare said. "That's all the men here think about." "They see no glory in trading wool for olive oil," Helen said with a sly glance at me. "And when did you see Prince Hektor, Kalliste?" "I've seen him twice," I said. "Once I had to travel to Illios, and I saw him at a shrine. The other time he came to the House N'xos. He was escorting a group of women who had come for the Maenad Festival." "An entire moon without any men around," a maid said. "How do they put up with it?" "The women do just fine," I said. "There are things men do not know, and it is better that they do not." I knew more about the Mysteries than anyone present, and they all knew it. "Maybe that's all right on K'ftiu where you come from," Molla said, smoothing her dress down over her very pregnant belly. "But--" "You could have done with one less man in your life, Molla," one of the other maids interrupted, and everybody laughed while Molla turned bright red with embarrassment. There was a lot of doubt over who the father of Molla's baby was. "It is not something you want to do just yet, Molla," I said. "Maybe later, when you have been married for many years, you will find a need to get out into the world. There are times I am glad I do not have a man in my life right now. I miss P'sero, of course, but that was then, this is now." The afternoon turned dark, with a gentle, rain killing the heat. The others left to help with the evening meal or whatever household duties they had. I was on the point of leaving when Helen stopped me. "He's the one, isn't he, Kalliste?" she asked, breaking the silence that had enveloped her the entire afternoon. "What do you mean?" "Prince Alexandros. That means it's starting, isn't it." I looked around to make sure we were alone. "I believe so. Are you troubled?" "No. I know what is to happen. The Lady told me a Prince would come from Illios and that I must go with him." She wrung her hands quietly, hands that were so like Atane's that I had long suspected who her real mother was. "Just like you instructed me, I haven't told Menelaos. I've tried to keep this to myself. Do I have to go with him, Kalliste? I don't want to leave Menelaos or my daughter." I heard the step behind us and I felt the presence. The smell of olives and laurel filled the room. I turned, instinctively giving the salute. "Bright Lady," I said to Her in recognition. Atane dismissed me to the corner of the room with a glance. "Daughter," She said to Helen, holding open Her arms. Helen came to Her obediently, and Atane folded the young woman into Her embrace. "You must go with him when he comes for you, Helen," She said quietly, stroking Helen's golden hair. "It is necessary." Helen looked troubled. "I will go, Lady," she said. "But only because You command it." "It must be done, Helen. On that you must trust me." Once again I was impressed with Her patience. I am certain She gave Helen some of Her strength, perhaps even a touch of Her knowledge. It helped Helen to believe in what she was doing, and to cooperate willingly and knowingly. Not all of Them are so thoughtful of their servants. "But Illios is so far away," Helen whispered. "I know no one there." "I will go with you," I said impulsively. Atane looked surprised, but just for a moment. Then Her perfect face narrowed in concentration. "Your instincts are sound, Kalliste," She said at last, nodding. "Yes, go with Helen. Things may work out for the better if you do." She released Helen. "Go, child, and prepare yourself. Go with him when he comes for you, but do not worry, you will see Vaphios again in a short time." Helen sketched a quick obeisance, and hurried off to her bedchamber. Atane turned to face me, pride and concern writ plain on Her face. At that moment I knew for certain what I had only suspected before. "The daughter greatly resembles the mother," I said quietly. A smile quirked across Her lips. "It is not quite what you suspect," She said. "We do what is necessary, you know that." I could attest to that. "Does she know?" "It is a secret that will stay in this room," She said. I bowed my head in acquiescence. Her guise and manner changed to that of an older woman, similar in dress and features to mine. "I would like to see this Prince with my own eyes," She said. Did I detect uncertainty in Her voice? Surely all of this was designed long ago, and well set in motion at this point. "Is it wise, Lady?" She paused, considering Her answer. "Wise? No. Call it... curiosity. That is something we do not exercise enough." I filed that comment away with the others She had made about Them over the years. We strolled out of the room, falling easily into the semblance of two ladies quietly discussing House business. "How is Britomartis? I have not seen Her for some time." "She is well," Atane said. "She asked me to tell you she looks in on you from time to time. She speaks often of those days in K'ftiu when she taught you to read, and..." We passed through the halls, two middle-aged women looking like we belonged to that palace and its extended family. Such were the comings and goings throughout the palace that without anyone noticing we were able to walk into and out of the room King Menelaos and Prince Alexandros were using. While we pretended to gaze at a wall-hanging at the far end of the room, She studied this prince from a distant land. Finally, satisfied with what She saw, She signaled me to leave. As unobtrusively as we came, we left. Back in my room She resumed the guise the world saw: perfect features, perfect hair, gray eyes, and a bearing that was well-beyond regal; the statue they crafted of Her in Athens many years later was a close likeness. I shared with Her a little of the wine a servant had left that morning. Curiosity won out over politeness. "Will he do, Lady?" "He has the cold ambition we seek," She said with a nod. She stared into the wine cup as the silence stretched out between us. "Have you ever had to do something you found personally distasteful, Kalliste?" "You mean besides that business with Ariadne and Theseus?" I smiled at her rueful grimace. "You and Your Mother have set me some hard tasks, Lady. Not all of them have been to my liking, that one perhaps least of all. But my wishes do not matter when I do Your bidding. I trust You and Your purpose." "And for that I love you," She said. "Not all I have used feel so." She stared at the wine a while longer. "This will not be an easy business for you," She said at last. "Helen will be protected, but I cannot guarantee your safety. There will be a great deal of danger." "It is a dangerous world," I said. "Ever since The Wave I have been living on borrowed time. It has been well worth any risk I bear in Your service." "You are kinder to us than we deserve," She said. She finished the wine and put the cup down very gently. "Tonight, at the evening meal, make sure Prince Alexandros has a good look at Helen. Over the next few days make sure they have plenty of time to talk. You will have to stay close to maintain propriety, of course, and be sure to tell Helen that--" She stopped, as if reconsidering. Slowly, She smiled. "You know what I want, Kalliste," She said. "Use your judgment." And so it came about with only a little meddling on my part. Prince Alexandros left Vaphios four days later, well satisfied with his stay. Two days after that Menelaos left for K'ftiu to talk with King Idomeneus. The night after he left Alexandros raided the palace, aided by someone, he never knew it was me, on the inside. The kidnapping went smoothly. Helen put up the necessary struggle, of course, submitting only when a knife was held to her throat. She insisted I be taken with her to provide the proper female companionship. Alexandros told off a man for that task. The man knew Helen was off-limits, but decided I was not. I understand he regained the use of his manhood within a few days. My head stopped ringing at about the same time. And nobody, except Helen, noticed that neither of us screamed when we had the chance. They took us south to the river, and thence to the coast. Alexandros drove his men and horses hard. We outran all pursuit and were soon at sea. Within the month we were in Illios as guests of Andromake, Prince Hektor's wife. In truth, we were prisoners, and everyone knew it. To nearly everyone Helen was the honored captive held as ransom in some trading scheme, and I was her slave; we did nothing to disabuse them of that. And then... nothing happened. It was like a celebration, carefully planned and perfectly executed, except no guests arrived. We were the focus of all that was happening, but curiously the last to know when or what chanced. Rumors swirled around us like the dead leaves of autumn. Would the Argives come? Would they attack? Would there be Heralds? Would Menelaos negotiate? What was going on back in Vaphios? Helen bided her time and kept her own counsel. We ate, we wove, we prayed, and we talked of my travels and adventures in Her service. One morning, six months after our arrival, a knock came on the door. I opened it to Princess Kassandra, daughter of King Priam. She was much as I, short and slender, but with light brown hair. We were friends of sorts, one of the few friends either of us had in that city. "An Argive army has landed," she said simply. "They are demanding Queen Helen be returned to them or they will storm the city. Their camp and ships can be seen from the top of the walls." "The Khatti could storm this city," I said confidently as we followed her up the stairs. "Or maybe those from Egypt. But the Argives have neither the discipline for storming a city, nor the patience for a siege. However brave they are, their courage will not move stone walls." "You have ever seen the bright side of things, Kalliste," Kassandra said in her flat voice, plainly disagreeing with me, but not willing to give it voice. She reached the top of the palace walls and gestured at the bay. "The Argives, my ladies." The Argive ships filled the far side of the bay, turning it black with their numbers. Helen looked at them for a while and then turned to me. "There is one question I have never asked," she said. "I am here because She desired it, but you have taught me too well, Kalliste. Tell me, what does Prince Alexandros and King Priam expect to gain from this war?" I could see she had given this much thought. "Your sister is married," I said at last. "Your daughter is not of age to choose. What happens to the kingdom if Menelaos dies in this battle?" For all of Atane's assurances, I could see that outcome still worried Helen above all others. Still, it was a measure of her character that she could treat the unwanted as a possibility and consider its consequences. "Whoever I marry becomes king," she said simply. "It is the custom." "And if it should be one of King Priam's sons, Prince Alexandros, perhaps? What then? Prince Alexandros would become king, wouldn't he?" She turned away for a moment. "But there is more, Helen." I gestured at the armed men massing within the city. "If the Argives take the city, then the lands to the north bordering the dark sea will be open to their ships. Their goods will bypass Karia and the Luvia lands and they will trade directly with the lands of the Black Sea. But if the Argives lose here, then the ships of Illios will dominate the seas to K'ftiu and beyond. There are many things at stake here, Lady Helen, many things." "That is about the rights of it," Kassandra said quietly. "Your K'ftiu mind serves you well, Lady Kalliste. You sound exactly like my father. The difference between him and my brother is that the King my father thinks constantly of trade, while Hektor thinks constantly of war." I smiled thinly at her veiled meaning. "He would be a true Argive." "While I do not care to admit it, there is more to the world than trading wool for grain. The Argives have been spoiling for a war ever since I can remember. That is why they have invaded the Luvian lands, Mysia, and even the Seha RiverLand. Some of them seek glory, others seek loot and slaves." "And a few just seek the joy of killing their fellow men," Kassandra said bitterly. "Before I entered His service my betrothed was taken from me in a pointless fight up-country over who would shelter their lambs and ewes in which pasture." She spit against the wall. "This war will be destructive to both sides," she said. "Neither side will achieve what they wish. We are too evenly matched. This war will destroy all of us, Argives and Dardanians alike." Helen opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it slowly. "I hope Menelaos takes care," she said in a small voice. "I am much too young to be a widow." "As was I," I said. I turned and watched a Herald walking away from the gate. When he was safely beyond bowshot he stopped and faced the walls. Carefully he put down the white shield that gave him his protected status. A servant handed him a bow and arrow. With great solemnity he drew and loosed in the direction of the city. Thus, symbolically, the war the Argives, Prince Alexandros, and Atane Herself wanted, began. ------- "Did the war really last 10 years?" Anna asked. "Did your war in Korea really last six years?" Kalliste countered. "I saw the television show MASH, and it was broadcast twice as long as the Korean War." She stopped the shuttle on the loom and took the thread off the spool. "The war between the Trojans and the Greeks lasted 10 years, but the siege of Troy did not. What few accounts we have that mention this war speak of a blockade, not a siege, and that it was over in only two years." "Other accounts?" Anna looked surprised. "I didn't know there was another account of the Trojan War." "There were several plays and other works," Kalliste said. "One that I know you can get from the library here is The War at Troy by Quintos of Smyrna. Then there's the epic the Lesser Illiad, and dozens of plays and books, few of which have survived as more than fragments. We know they exist because other authors refer to them." "Did Homer exist?" Carla asked. "I read somewhere that a linguistic analysis proved the Illiad and the Odyssey were composed by two different people." "I think I read that article," Kalliste said. "In the footnotes the author says Homer didn't write them, but somebody else who happened to be named Homer did." Everyone in the room burst out laughing. "He wasn't serious, was he?" Carla asked. "That... that's absurd." "I agree with you," Kalliste said, "but I'm not going to take a public stand about Homer. Somebody composed those epics, and we might as well say it was Homer. The Greeks themselves thought there was a real person named Homer, and they were a lot closer to the composer than we are. Perhaps two different people compiled the epics, and that's what they meant." "So they really fought the war over Helen?" Sarah shook her head. "That doesn't make sense." "She was an excuse," Kalliste said, "one of many. Troy was at the crossroads of two major trade routes, the east-west route from the Balkans to the Near East, and the north-south trade route through what became known as the Dardanelles. There have been a lot of wars fought over that patch of ground, and the evidence is that they city of Troy was sacked several times." "So the Greeks sacked Troy." Anna wrinkled her brow. "What then?" "The Greeks went home, and people filtered back into Troy, rebuilt it, and resumed what they had been doing." "You mean it was pointless?" Anna threw down her pencil. "Jesus! All of that and nothing change?" Kalliste shook her head. "I think that the real outcome of the war was twofold: first, that the Greeks lost so many men that they lost their appetite for adventures in that part of the world; and second, the Greeks were so preoccupied with expanding to the east that they were not in any shape to stop the wave of barbarian migrations that hit them a generation later." She laughed again. "That's my personal opinion, not one founded on any hard evidence that's been excavated, and you'll get a lot of argument about that from my colleagues in Archaeology Departments all over the world." She slid off the table and began gathering her things. "Anyway, there you have it, a story about the original Helen of Troy." She knelt down and brushed the baby's cheek with her fingertips. "You have a very pretty baby, Sarah. Well done, very well done." "Thank you," Sarah said, gazing down at her daughter's face. "See everybody next time," Kalliste said. She swung her pack up over her shoulder and disappeared into the night. ------- The End ------- Posted: 2006-12-31 ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------