The Last Prophetess

Part 6

I want to go hug the man when scouts return from the deserted Greek camp dragging a whimpering Greek soldier. He is explaining something about the horse, but I cannot pay attention. I am too busy trying to hide from my father's soldiers, who have clearly escaped my room. Their faces are an angry red and their scowls are so deep that I know I'm in trouble.

I run when they catch sight of me, pushing past the crowd into a maze of empty streets and alleyways. Blindly turning at a corner, I face a dark alley...and a dead end. Before I can turn back, hands seize my woefully long hair and yank me to the ground; the soldiers were faster than me after all.

They push my face into the dirt and kick me, sending my body into pure agony. "Such is the treatment of dangerous lunatics," one of them spits out. I gasp in pain as they drag me through the dirt. "I will tell the King of this!" The one pulling my left arm out of its socket looks back. "Oh," he sneers, "and will he believe you?" We reach the foot of the stairs, the very stairs I raced down so joyfully, and I fight harder. I know what awaits me at the top of these steps. The soldiers drag me up there and I see one of the doors completely knocked down. They push me through. Here I am, back in my old prison.

This place repulses me compared to the joy I felt when I was outside. I can see a little of the outside world through a window facing the center of the city by the staircase, and though this does very little to console me, it's at least something. A soldier pinches me to get my attention, then says, "We will be on guard at the bottom of the stairs, since this door is broken."

He notices me glancing at the window and snickers. "No one can hear your cries from up here. And if you try to jump, you will die. That's not our problem, though." They leave me to sit on my bed in silence. It is up to Laocȯȯn now to warn my people against the treacherous wooden horse.

But just as I lie back on my bed I hear the sweet melody of lyres ringing out in the city and flutes pouring out a merry tune. People are singing and clapping with joy. I rush over to the window to see throngs of Trojans gathered in the heart of the city, in front of the temple of Athena. My heart plummets when I see why; Laocȯȯn has failed me. The wretched horse is now being pushed through the city gates, right up to Athena's temple.

I see some of the crowd dancing, crying out, "Athena will surely be pleased!" The city is adorned with pungent flowers, their aroma repulsing me. "Stop!" I scream out the window. But my voice dies in the heavy air; no one can hear me, especially not over the raucous celebration. Wearily I trudge back to the room and collapse on the bare chilly floor, crying myself to sleep.