…So Andromache spoke weeping…
Iliad, Homer, Book XXIV
(Rouse’s translation)
He spoke the truth. My heart knew it at once. Agamemnon had lied, and Menelaus had embellished the lie.
As the import flooded through me, I sank into my chair. Achilleus here! Only a short distance away. He didn’t leave me after all. If I had stayed in the Achaean camp, I might have returned to him somehow. Yet I had allowed myself to be duped by the king and his brother, and now I’d lost all hope of ever seeing him again.
Even worse, I had made him vulnerable to his enemy. Hektor would use me against him. I mustn’t let it happen. I must find a way to get out of Troy—
Watching me, Hektor laughed harshly. “It appears you didn’t mean to betray him.”
Betray. The word stabbed me. I thought of what I’d told Hektor. Surely not much! Only that Achilleus was not invulnerable, which Hektor must already know, and that Achilleus cared for Patroklos. The rest he had deduced for himself: He is ruled by his heart. He can be goaded into rashness by a threat to someone dear to him. Could I undo the harm?
“I betrayed nothing!” I retorted. “You infer too much. Achilleus let Agamemnon take me. He told the whole assembled army that he would not fight for me.”
“Ah!” Hektor smiled grimly. “How do you know that?”
I bit my lip. “Agamemnon told me.”
“Another lie?”
I was silent.
“If that’s the case, why does Achilleus stay? What is he waiting for?” When I made no reply, Hektor said, “He knows his part in the war isn’t over. And I’m sure he can’t resist a challenge. With you as bait, I will lure him into single combat.”
Mortal combat. My blood turned to ice. If he died, it would be my doing, because I had come here and allied myself with Hektor. But I couldn’t give in to my terror. I must prevent this, even if I had no idea how. I sprang to my feet. “Let me go to him, Hektor! I’ll persuade him to fight you if that’s what you wish. It won’t be hard. I’m sure he already wants to.” I was babbling, willing to promise anything if only I could get back to Achilleus.
Hektor turned to face me, his eyes blazing. “You’re lying,” he said. “You’re full of lies and deceit. I’m not such a fool as to believe you.” He forced me back into my chair. “No, you’ll stay right here. And don’t try any treachery. All the men, all the sentries, will be warned about you. You’ll no more get out of Troy than escape Hades itself.”
Oh, gods! Oh, Aphrodite, help me! But there was no help, and as he swung away, I doubled over and crumpled into the darkness of my folded arms. I heard his heavy footsteps crossing the room, the door opening. Lighter, quicker steps followed. Voices from the other side of the room—the door closing. Moments of stillness. Then the light footsteps approached. A gentle hand came to rest on my shoulder. I lifted my head.
“Andromache.” My voice sounded hoarse and strange to my own ears. “Where’s Hektor gone? I must—speak to him.” Though I had no idea what more I could say.
“He went to the barracks,” she said. “Briseis, you look pale. Are you ill?” She pressed a warm goblet into my hands.
I took the cup and drank without tasting. Andromache sat in the chair next to me, watching. “You weren’t lying,” she said. “You really didn’t know.”
I barely heard her words. I set the goblet aside and covered my face with my hand. Only one thought was in my head. I must get back to him. Somehow.
Andromache sat so still and tense that I couldn’t help being aware of her. I dropped my hand and turned to her.
“Briseis,” she said, “Surely it would ease you to speak of it. Tell me—”
I drew a deep breath. Andromache might be friend or enemy. In her own way, she was more to be feared than Hektor. The grim look in her eyes showed fierce, implacable strength. Those eyes demanded a truth I could not hide. I looked up and let her read my heart.
“You love him.” Her face revealed nothing. The firelight cast a gold reflection in the wet, glistening surfaces of her eyes. That revelation could imprison me more than all the walls and guarded gates of Troy. I wondered what she would do with it.
She lowered her eyes. Then, slowly, her hands came forward to grasp mine. The simple gesture lifted some of the weight from my heart. I gazed at her, feeling as fragile as an edifice of sand that might crumble in the slightest breeze.
“You don’t hate me?” I asked at last.
“Nay, Briseis! We are not enemies, why should we be?” Her smile pierced me with its sadness. “We share this thing—this terrible loss for one of us.”
“I’ve always known our fates were linked,” I whispered.
“Always known? But we’ve only met today.”
I tried to smile. “Don’t forget, I watched you pledge yourself to Hektor. How I envied you that day! I envied your great love.”
“And now?” she asked.
“Now I see it’s only pain.”
“Nay, but there’s joy!” She gripped my hands. Two tears broke free and slid down her cheeks.
“I haven’t had that kind of joy,” I said sadly.
She made no answer, but across the bridge of our clasped hands, comfort flowed like an eddying wave so that I could not tell who offered it or who received it. We looked at each other silently until one of us made a move, and somehow we ended up clasped in each other’s arms. Her embrace transported me to a territory I had not known since childhood. Mother-love, sister-love—life had until now denied me this closeness with another woman. When we released each other, she turned away, dabbing her eyes.
“I think I’ve always known that they must meet face to face,” she said. “I’m so afraid Achilleus will kill him.”
“Perhaps not.” But I could not consider the alternative. I reached for her hand again. “Andromache,” I said, “they must not meet. We can prevent it.”
Her eyes widened with sudden hope. Then she shook her head. “You heard Hektor; there’s no stopping him.”
“Maybe we can stop Achilleus.”
She sat very still. “How?”
“You must help me get out of Troy—tonight. Then I can go to him, and Hektor can’t use me as—bait.”
Doubt and mistrust creased her brow. “He warned me that you would try something like that. He—he told me to keep a watch on you.”
“Because he wants to fight Achilleus above all else,” I pressed. “He loves honor in battle more than his own life. They all do. And he wants to avenge you!” She made a small, choked sound. “But do you want that?” Her silence answered me. I leaned forward. “If I can get to Achilleus, I can surely persuade him to abandon the war and sail for home.” Even as I spoke, I wondered if I could accomplish such a thing.
“Do you think so?” she asked doubtfully.
“When he withdrew, he swore some oath. He probably swore to stay out of battle.” It was a guess. If only I could find out exactly what he had sworn! “He’s half sick of this war already,” I said, remembering what Patroklos had told me. “But I must go to him tonight, and he mustn’t ever know I came to Troy.”
For a moment she hesitated. Then she looked down, twisting the fringes of her shawl around tense white fingers.
“Andromache!” I insisted. “You, the commander’s wife, can get me out of Troy.”
She shook her head and looked up at me through tears. “He placed all his trust in me. I’m sorry, Briseis. I can’t betray him.”
That word again. I closed my eyes for an instant, then said relentlessly, “Not even to save his life? Think of your son—little Astyanax—”
A moan escaped her. She got to her feet, turned her back. She stood motionless for a long time, a hand pressed to her face. I could hardly breathe.
“Andromache, it’s our only chance.” Still she made no move. “Is it betrayal,” I asked softly, “to protect your husband and son?”
Andromache sat down slowly. Her cheeks were pale as bleached bone, but she achieved a painful smile. “Hektor did not say I had to keep you prisoner in this house. If you go out the back door, you will find a gallery that connects all the royal apartments, and if you go to the left along this gallery and pass five doors, the sixth one…” She paused to draw a ragged breath. “The sixth one will take you to a woman who can help you. She knows all the sentries at all the gates, and is even, I suspect, on intimate terms with some. She is entirely without scruples.” Andromache’s voice vibrated with scorn. “She has no loyalty for either side in this war. If you can find a way to persuade her, she could get you out of Troy tonight.”
My breath came fast. “And is she hard to persuade?”
Andromache shook her head. “I know not. Charm her, beguile her, entertain her. But hurry! You must go now, before Hektor returns.” She stood up. “May the gods grant you success!”
Our hands clung for a moment, but there was no comfort now, only too much room for failure. She kissed my cheek quickly and stepped back. “I wish you well!”
I turned toward the door—then looked at her. “Who is this woman I am to see?”
“Her name is Helen.”
