A Gift from the Gods

19

It was difficult finding clothing and satchels without finery, but Zephyra was able to find a rucksack in the kitchens when she went for rations of cheese and bread for however long her journey would be. She had some plain chitons but would have to scrounge up a simple cloak later.

It was decided. She would leave that evening once the city slept.

What she hadn't anticipated were late morning cheers rumbling through the lower city as her father and his soldiers escorted an inexplicably immense wooden horse built crudely from what looked like Greek ships.

Something wasn't right, though Zephyra couldn't tell what.

The royal family were all allowed in attendance at the council that day, including the women. Zephyra kept to the back away from Andromache and Helen. She couldn't bear to look at either of them, though for entirely different reasons.

Her heart sank as her father spoke about a plague and the Greek's departure. Bodies had been left strewn and decaying on the beach. If she hadn't believed Achilles had abandoned her before, she believed it now, leaving behind an offering to a god they both hated.

"We should burn it."

Zephyra forced her attention forward at her brother's words. His hands were shaking as he stood before their father, their king, asking him to burn this offering dedicated to the gods.

"It is a sacred offering," one of the councilmen said. "We cannot burn it. We must celebrate."

Paris turned back to King Priam. "Father, burn it."

It was no use arguing with King Priam. He was set in his ways even if they came at the expense of his people. The Greeks deserved no safe passage and no reconciliation with Apollo.

Zephyra caught herself. The Greeks were following the orders of a mad king, and the Trojans weren't far behind.

The council could have gone on for hours more, but Zephyra couldn't stand to spend another second there.

Doubt was beginning to cloud her thoughts as she strolled back to her apartments. Could she really leave her home to traverse the world alone? Could she be a mother alone? The gods could have laid her future before in a clear vision, and she still wouldn't have believed the path she was on.

As she entered her quarters, there was resolve in her heart. It was no longer a question on if she could and now a question of how she could leave the fortified walls of her home. She stripped her body of all finery and pulled a modest cloak over her shoulders, gathering gold coins from their hiding places around her room. Deftly, she clung to the shadows as she made her way to the markets below the palace.

The streets were buzzing in a combination of menial tasks and preparations for the celebration Priam demanded for the Greek's offering and departure. No one would look twice at her on her errands.

Before late afternoon, she had purchased all of her necessities: a traveling cloak, satchels, waterskins, and a sturdy pair of walking shoes. The palace kitchens would have a sufficient supply of bread and cheeses to pilfer during the festivities that night. Then, early in the morning when everyone would be toppled over from drink, she'd escape. She'd have to use more than half her coins to bribe the guards at the west gate, but it would be worth it. As dangerous as it would be, Zephyra was going to Greece.

Zephyra ensured she could attach everything to her person, and began towards the palace again. As she passed the crudely made horse, something caught her attention. She stopped in her tracks letting others pass around her as she took a longer moment to examine the offering.

There. In one gap between slats, the glint of a sword. Realization wormed through her body in a mix of emotions. It was a trap. The whole thing. Her brother was correct in his assumptions, for once. They should have burned it. But no. The Myrmidon ships may be gone, but Achilles wouldn't have gone with them. He was with the Greeks. She was sure of it. Maybe even in the horse.

A new choice lay before her. Tell her people or let the events play out as they may. The only issue was, her father wouldn't believe her. Not after everything they have been through. Not without Hector there to help her father see reason. All was lost before it even began.

Zephyra bowed before the structure in mock reverence, a facade for the people around her, then stood close, touching the battered wood next to the glint she could so clearly see now. On closer inspection, there were further gaps. Few and far between, but she could see hints of armor and even an eye.

Carefully, she whispered to the man before her. "Tell Achilles the princess is in the west tower."

She leaned her forehead against the planks for one last breath.