For the Most Beautiful (11 page)

Hermes shrugs his shoulders. ‘No idea,' he says.

And they fly off into the star-spangled veil of the night.

I sat up in bed. It was the middle of the night, and the room was as dark as the bowels of Hades. Mynes was not there. He had not come to my bed the evening before – I must have fallen asleep waiting for him.

‘Mynes?' I whispered into the silence.

I slipped out of bed and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. The sky behind the window shutters was tinged with orange. Perhaps it was nearly dawn, and Mynes had not come to bed at all. I walked over and drew back the bars to let in the cool night breeze.

A roar of flames tore through the air. A woman's shrill scream, children crying, earth-shattering creaks and groans as buildings were swallowed by fire and fell to the ground. The lower city was spread out beneath the palace walls in a blazing carpet. I backed away in horror.

Lyrnessus was going up in flames.

I slammed the shutters and ran from the window, terror rising in my throat. I had to find Mynes.

There was a spiralling staircase from our bedroom, leading up to one of the tallest towers of the palace that rose above the fortifications of the upper city and overlooked the town below. I raced up it, my thin night-robes trailing in the wind behind me, desperate to catch a glimpse of Mynes somewhere in the frightened crowds in the streets below.

The lower city was laid out in a confusion of fire and frightened people. Soldiers in bronze breastplates, with shining helmets and greaves, were running through the streets and throwing torches at every house they came across. Men and women were screaming. The sea in the harbour, down by the south gate, was reflecting the flames of the lower city as if it, too, were on fire, like a slithering mass of black lava. The smell of burning wood and the bitter scent of smoke drifted up to the palace and caught at the back of my throat. Trumpets were shrieking on the air, men rallying and crying for battle.

Then, amid the crowds of terrified people, I spotted a group of Lyrnessan nobles by the front gates in the forecourt before the palace, arming themselves from a pile of weapons, preparing to leave the fortifications of the strongly walled upper city for the burning town. Perhaps they would know where Mynes was.

I rushed back down the stairs from the tower and a figure loomed out of the darkness, his arms full of wooden effigies of the gods, his white hair astray, eyes wide. It was the priest from our wedding. ‘Run, Princess!' he called to me, his voice shaking, his face full of fear. ‘Run, or die!'

He started to hobble away, clutching the statues of the gods to his chest.

‘Wait – Panthus, wait!' I shouted after him. ‘Have you seen Prince Mynes?'

But my question echoed down the empty stairwell, and he was gone.

I was weeping now. I ran down the stairs, along the dark colonnade, then burst through the great doors of the palace to the large forecourt, looking wildly around me. The Lyrnessan soldiers I had seen from the top of the tower were still there. I clutched at one, sinking to my knees with my hair tangled over my face, wet with sweat and tears.

The soldier turned away from me, instinctively on his guard, and another drew his sword. Then I heard the sound of brisk footsteps, and a hand turned my face up by the chin.

‘Briseis?'

It was Mynes.

‘What in the name of all the gods are you doing here?' he asked fiercely.

I could hardly speak through my tears and the fear, thick in my throat. ‘Mynes!' I gasped. ‘Mynes, what is happening?'

He crouched low so that he could look directly into my face, and took my shoulders in his hands. ‘We had news earlier today that the Greeks might attack,' he said. ‘But we did not expect it so soon, and the city has been taken unprepared. I have to help. I cannot let Lyrnessus fall. I must protect my people.'

His mouth was set in a firm line, and my blood ran cold at the glint of war reflected in his eyes. For the first time I realized that, whatever he was to me, my husband was a leader of his city and a fighter: a man born to wield a spear before he was anything else.

‘But what about me?' I sobbed, and a wave of grief crashed over me with a strength that shocked the breath out of my lungs. ‘What will happen to me if you die? You cannot go. You are all I have! You are everything to me, Mynes. I cannot lose you!'

‘I cannot leave my people,' he repeated, but this time his voice cracked with pain. ‘What would they say if I ran away from battle, like a coward? It is impossible. I have to go. But, Briseis,' as I started up, about to interrupt him, ‘I shall not leave you unprotected.' He clasped my hand in his, and his face was filled with anguish. ‘You know you mean more to me than any of the people of Lyrnessus,' he whispered. ‘More than my parents, even. I shall come back for you, I promise.'

I swallowed. ‘And if you do not?' I said, my voice barely more than a whisper. ‘If you cannot?'

He gave me a long look. ‘Come here,' he said. He took my hand and led me away from the group of soldiers, some of whom glanced up curiously from arming themselves, strapping their greaves to their shins and tying their breastplates over their tunics.

Mynes stopped when he reached the line of juniper trees beside the gate, sending their heady scent on to the air, out of earshot of his men. ‘Briseis, you must know the truth. The Greeks have taken the lower city. Most of our soldiers are dead, and I do not have enough left to fight the enemy.'

His face was bleak, his forehead creased with pain. I stared up at him. ‘You think we will be defeated?' I whispered.

Very slowly, he nodded.

‘Then we must flee!' I said urgently. ‘Come back with me to Pedasus! My father has a great army – he will take care of you and provide you with reinforcements so you can return—'

He shook his head. ‘No, Briseis,' he said firmly. ‘I have already said I will not run. My men need me here – now, more than ever.' He lowered his voice and pressed my hand. ‘I swore when we married that I would protect you with everything I have. But if my luck is against me and I am killed—'

‘Don't say it!'

He gripped my hand more firmly. ‘No, Briseis, listen to me –
if
I am killed, you must not grieve for me. You must learn to live your life without me. I will have Lygdon take you to Pedasus where you can live in safety with your family and—'

I gasped, my eyes filling again with tears. ‘I will not leave you!'

‘I cannot allow you to defy me on this,' he said, his voice uncharacteristically sharp. ‘I will not be able to fight if you are in danger, Briseis. Do you understand?'

A scream rang out from somewhere nearby, piercing the still night air, and I shuddered. At last I nodded. I knew well enough from listening to my father and his soldiers at the feasts, when wine had loosened their tongues, how fatal it could be in battle if a warrior did not leave his cares behind him.

‘And I will not,' he swallowed and lowered his voice once more, ‘I
cannot
bear the idea of your grief.'

The light of the flames upon the sky was growing ever stronger, as he leant towards me and kissed me, dyeing the heavens blood red. ‘We shall be reunited in the Underworld, whenever the gods take us from this earth. Whichever of us leaves the land of the living before the other – we will wait. We will wait for each other, Briseis, as we waited for each other in this life, and we will welcome each other on the banks of the Styx, to be together always.' His voice broke, and he swallowed again. ‘But until then – if anything should happen – will you swear to stay in Pedasus and learn to forget me, Briseis? To protect yourself?'

I shook my head again, the tears streaming down my cheeks. ‘You cannot ask this of me.'

‘I must,' he said, his voice urgent, full of pain. ‘Briseis, please –
promise me
.'

I looked up at him. He was gazing at me, his eyes eloquent with hope and anguish. I felt my heart break at the sight. ‘Yes,' I said at last, as tears rimmed my lashes again. ‘Yes, very well. I promise.'

I felt the muscles of his hand relax in mine. Then he stood up, pulling me with him to the crowd of men who stood, ready armed and gleaming with spears and swords, in the forecourt.

‘Lygdon!' he called to one of the soldiers, a burly man who carried a double-headed axe forged from bronze and was Mynes' personal guard.

‘Yes, Prince?'

‘Take the Princess Briseis,' he said, leading me to the soldier and placing his hand on my shoulder. ‘Take her through the hidden gate from the back of the palace and lead her straight to Pedasus without delay. Do you understand?'

He saluted. ‘Yes, Prince.'

Mynes turned towards me. ‘Will you be all right?' he asked gently.

I wiped the tears from my eyes with the sleeve of my robe. ‘Of course I shall,' I said, with as much conviction as I could muster. Then, with a brave attempt at courage: ‘I have faced worse.'

He laughed and kissed me fully, his hands on either side of my face. ‘Now there's the girl I married,' he said. Then he turned away, his mind already on war.

‘Men – are you ready?' he shouted, and the soldiers shook their spears and shields in reply, roaring and grunting.

‘Are you ready to give your lives for your city?'

They shouted even louder.

‘Then let us go and fight for our gods and for our kingdom!' he thundered, then bent to pick up his oval shield and bronze-tipped spear from the ground.

‘Wait – Mynes!' I said, darting forwards and laying my hand on his arm as he began to hoist the shield on to his back.

‘Not afraid, Briseis?' he asked, smiling.

‘No,' I said. ‘I just – I love you.'

‘And you know I love you too. But I must go.'

He kissed my forehead, then straightened to put on his bronze helmet, topped with a waving horsehair crest of red and gold. He lifted it, fitted it easily over his head and fastened the cheek-flaps in place. Then, with a brief smile to me and a call to his men, my husband disappeared through the large wooden gates of the upper city into the burning town.

I wished I could stand and gaze after him for as long as the impression of his blazing armour lasted on my eyes. But I felt a hand heavy on my shoulder, and heard Lygdon's gruff voice say, ‘We'd better get you to Pedasus, then, Princess.'

There was a moment of silence as he waited for me to walk towards the palace. Then—

‘Lygdon,' I said slowly, ‘do you think the gates of the upper city will be strong enough to hold the enemy back?'

Lygdon paused. ‘Of course,' he said at last. ‘Lyrnessus has never been captured before. It's the Greeks' good fortune they came upon us by surprise.' He smiled grimly at me. ‘But their fortune will not last long enough to lead them into the upper city, of that I am certain.'

The gods knew I did not want to break my promise to Mynes, but I could not bear to run from him, like a child to her mother's skirts. I kneaded my knuckles against my forehead in frustration. ‘The prince told me he believes we will be defeated …'

Lygdon shook his head. ‘We shall win, Princess, you can be sure of that.' His voice was steady, confident. ‘Most likely the prince only said so to persuade you to flee.'

I thought this over. ‘And do you wish to leave the battle?'

He shook his head again. ‘I would rather stay and protect my home,' he said honestly. ‘I have a wife of my own, Princess, and three young children, one newly born. I'd rather not leave them.'

‘Then we shall stay,' I said, making the decision in a moment. ‘You will take me to the Great Hall, where I shall wait for the prince to return. I shall show the Lyrnessans that their princess does not flee in terror at the first sign of danger.'