The House of Atreus bears a curse. One steeped in blood and nourished by decades of violence.
Klytemnestra knew this when she married Agamemnon, but being a princess in Sparta doesn't leave you with much choice, though she longs for it. The Fates s...
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"You have to run." His words are hoarse when he turns towards me and Mother again. But his eyes are clear as amber, beautiful once more. "Take one of my horses and go. Xanthos is strong, he can carry you both."
"Run where?" Mother asks with a cynical laugh. "Where could two women possibly go and not be found?" She sounds exhausted when she looks at our surroundings. I long to sit down and calm my racing heart but this tent doesn't have a bed like mine has, just a heap of straw and furs bundled up on the ground in one of the corners.
Achilles exhales in a sigh, frustration now seeping through the cracks of his previous concentration. He runs his hands over his face, wincing when they smear the blood all over him. He looks at them as if he's just noticed it and snatches up a rag from the ground.
"You could go to a temple," he says as he begins to wipe at his face. "Find sanctuary there. Doesn't Artemis or Athena protect young girls and women in need?" When the sticky film of red disappears from his temples, I can see that his skin underneath is intact. His lip, which must've split when he was hit earlier by the men, is healed. He looks down at his chiton in disgust and then around the tent again and I realise this must be his tent and he's looking for a change of clothes.
My face heats up and I dart my gaze away.
Mother sucks her teeth, unbothered, annoyed. "In case you have forgotten, Artemis is the one, who wants her sacrificed. She's not going to help."
He throws down the bloody cloth and lets out another sigh, brushing his hair out of his face. "Then what do you suggest, anassa?"
"You go," Mother replies, "you take Iphigenia to Scythia. One of our servant girls is an Amazon, she'll bring her to her people. They can protect her."
"I'm not a deserter." The lines on Achilles' face deepen now, casting shadows over it. "And I don't meddle with the Amazons."
"Are you afraid their Queen might challenge you?" Mother asks then. "Word is, they're on the Trojans' side and Penthesilea is eager to meet you."
"All the more reason why I can't go. Your husband is my superior. Whether I like it or not, I answer to him." He strides into a corner of the tent and picks up a dagger, weighing it in contemplation for a moment before he straps it onto his belt.
"Agamemnon won't go to war without you, he'll take you back." Mother tries to plead with him as he looks through the weapons that are spread out before him, darting back and forth. "He needs you. Unlike me."
The question of what Father might do to someone he has no need for remains hanging in the air, unanswered. My arms suddenly break out in goosebumps. Memories of all the stories the servants would tell us as children before bedtime to scare us into behaving come to my mind. All too sudden and vivid. It never occurred to me before that they might've been about real people doing such horrible things to each other.
