The sun sank behind the temples Mycenae and dazzled her eyes as Athenais looked towards the West over the bow of the ship. She could hear the excitement of the sailors around her as they caught sight of the huge beacon fires upon the cliffs that had been lit by the enthusiastic inhabitants of the city. It was painfully obvious to her that the sea portion of her journey was nearly over. As she had overheard before, Athenais knew that in two days, three at the most, she would be in Sparta. The city where it seemed that she was destined to spend the rest of her life as a slave to some Spartan noble or warrior. Deciding to leave the future until tomorrow, Athenais curled up into her now threadbare clock and closed her eyes in sleep.
The sounds of loud cheering and celebration woke her the next morning to a bright and sunny day. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Athenais looked to see the hills and beaches lined with jubilant people clad in gaily-colored raiment of festival. The Achaeans on the five remaining ships were also gesticulating wildly and yelling at the top of their lungs. Only the high ranking among the Spartans seemed to keep a reserved and somewhat remote attitude towards the homecoming. Casting her gaze towards the stern of the ship, Athenais found Menelaus and Helen standing together looking towards the land. Menelaus’ face was cast in an expression of pride and joy. He seemed to have finally realized that the shame cast upon him and his city by the ‘abduction’ of his Queen by Paris had been expiated. In addition, his anger with Helen had melted away like snow in the sun leaving only the love and adoration that he had borne towards her before the whole unsavory business. Helen’s face bore a different expression, which changed depending upon whether or not she felt herself to be observed or not. Under observation, her face seemed to shine with joy, love, and beauty. When her eyes met those of her husband, they went bright and dewy with love and adoration. At these times Helen truly seemed to be almost a human avatar of Aphrodite herself. On those occasions when those around her ignored her, another expression would take root upon her face. An expression of nearly unimaginable sorrow and self-loathing would transform her wondrous beauty into something hauntingly fragile. It seemed at those times that she was nearly mired in the depths of sorrow as she had been rooted in the clouds of happiness during her sojourn at Troy. Athenais took in all of this in just a few seconds glance; much like her patron goddess she had perception and intellect far above the vast majority of her fellow mortals.
A hard shove to her back nearly knocked her to her knees and broke her out of her own thoughts. Catching her balance, Athenais looked behind her to find a tall and bearded Spartan noble smirking down at her. In the midst of rising to her feet, her cloak slipped from her shoulders and it seemed to all around her that a veil had been lifted from their eyes. The rather drab woman, pale skinned and with a lifeless head of black hair and dull eyes, transformed into a rare beauty. Tall, with skin the color of ivory, hair as black and shiny as a raven wing and grey eyes that resembled smoke, the woman before them seemed almost a mortal version of Athena. All of the Spartan nobles suddenly declared their desire for her and a tumult arose. Finally Menelaus himself entered the fray in order to bring his nobles to heel. At the top of his lungs Menelaus declared, “ Enough my lords enough! You are Spartans, not barbarians! This woman will not be touched, but shall be the final prize of the auction that will take place on the morning following our return to Sparta. At that time you may compete and bid for the right to possess her. Until that time, control yourselves and prepare for the welcome banquet that my brother’s people have prepared for us.”
Menelaus’ declaration did nothing to reassure Athenais, on the contrary it increased her terror tenfold. As the saying goes, when a man or women knows they are about to be executed it tends to focus their thoughts directly. The fate that Athenais now saw looming before her appeared to be worse than death. She had kept her virginity intact, to be a gift to her husband upon her wedding night as demanded by her goddess’ precepts. She had long dreamed that Agathon would be the man to whom she would present that gift. Now it looked as if it would be ripped from her hands and given to the first Spartan willing to come up with the price demanded by auctioneer. Her spirits plunged even further than they had on the beach of Troy. Once again, she sent her silent prayers winging off to Athena for a swift death.
YOU ARE READING
Quest of a Goddess
Historical FictionA surviving warrior of Troy must take up the charge of a regretful goddess and save the one person neither he nor the goddess can exist without.
