Nobody's Princess (16 page)

“Don’t worry about it,” I told him. “You wouldn’t have been able to lift those things anyway.”

He stared at me as if I’d slapped his face. I was only telling the truth. He was too small and skinny to budge a packed wooden chest, besides which he was drained by his recent unfortunate voyage. I never meant to hurt his feelings.

“I’m
not
useless!” he protested. “There
has
to be something I can do to serve you!” He looked all around him desperately at every step we took and finally dashed into the trees along the roadside. He emerged proudly carrying a newly broken branch of pine needles. He waved it diligently back and forth near my head as we trudged along. It stirred up a nice little breeze, kept off the flies, and made him happy.

To reach Delphi, all roads led up, up, up. The sun god’s shrine was set high amid looming crags and deep fissures in the earth, and as steep and sun-baked as the road was, it was thick with pilgrims. Some had come to Delphi the same way we had, by water, but others were so covered with dust that it was obvious they’d come solely by land.

Our priestly guide kept up a pleasant, nonstop stream of chatter all the way from the seaside to the gates of Apollo’s temple, though most of it was directed at my brothers.

“Noble princes, surely Apollo himself brought you to us,” he said. “This place calls out to heroes. It was here, in the depths of a lightless cavern, that the young sun god performed his first and best heroic feat, killing Python, a hideous, man-eating monster. That’s why his chosen priestess here, his all-knowing oracle, is always known as the Pythia, to commemorate Apollo’s greatest foe.”

“How soon will we be able to see her?” Castor asked.

The priest rubbed his hands together. “Oh, soon, soon! I’m certain she’ll have wonderful things to tell you about the splendid futures awaiting you when you rule Sparta someday.”

Castor stopped dead in his tracks.
“May the gods forbid it!”

Polydeuces spoke more quietly, but with just as much heat. “What sort of oracle doesn’t know that our
sister
is the heir of Sparta? If you think ill-wishing her will make us favor you, you’re a jackass.”

Oh, that unhappy priest! If he could have squirmed out of his skin and slithered off into the bushes, he’d have done it in a heartbeat. As it was, he fidgeted and stammered and nervously plucked laurel leaves from the branch that was his badge of office, crushing them one by one until their fragrance was overwhelming.

I couldn’t stand to watch his ever-growing embarrassment. “Weren’t you two listening?” I said, nudging my brothers. “
He’s
not the oracle. You can’t blame him for not knowing everything.” When they continued to glower at the priest, I turned to him also. “But you
can
tell us what we’ll have to do in order to understand what the Pythia says to us, can’t you?” I asked lightly. “I’ve heard that her words are sometimes confusing.” I already knew the answer, but I wanted to divert attention from his blunder.

“Yes, yes, surely!” The priest was almost quivering with relief. “In his wisdom, the sun god makes the Pythia speak in his divine voice to those who bring him worthy offerings. Just so Apollo gives us, his humble servants, the power to interpret whatever he inspires her to say—”

“We know that,” Castor remarked.

“—for a small additional offering,” the priest concluded. Then he was off chattering again, telling us all about the glories of Delphi, assuring us that we’d have no need to find an inn, that it would be an honor to provide us with the best lodgings on the temple grounds.

The higher we climbed, the thicker the crowds grew, until by the time we entered Delphi itself we were surrounded. So many people! The streets teemed with them. Delphi was an ever-growing weed of a town that sprang up to serve the visitors to Apollo’s shrine. People came from all over Greece to lay their questions at the Pythia’s feet. I was dazzled by the sight of such crowds, rich and poor from every corner of the mainland and even from the islands scattered over the Middle Sea.

But soon the excitement of being part of that hubbub faded. The brightly colored clothes, the flash of gold ornaments, the sudden appearance of a chariot rolling by, all of the initial glamour shrank down into a clogged mass of hot, aggravated, pushy, impatient savages. All of them seemed to have been born with at least six knobby elbows, and each person acted like he owned the street. Milo’s ever-waving pine branch was knocked aside and trampled. Even with our guardsmen at our sides, we were lucky that the same thing didn’t happen to us.

“Are all of these people dying to know how they’re going to die?” I muttered.

The priest mistook my grumble for a real question. “That’s not the only reason that brings people to Delphi. Heroes seek to learn which road will take them to their next triumph. Kings ask the oracle’s guidance when they wish to know whether or not to make war. Those who are fortunate enough to be granted an audience with the Pythia come away with the blessing of knowing their destiny.”

“But what good does it do to know your
destiny
?” I argued. “You can’t escape it. The three Fates spin, measure, and cut the life thread of every human being. Their decisions are final. Even Zeus can’t change them.”

“But Lady Helen, surely you’re skilled enough with the spindle to know that every length of thread is made of many smaller fibers twisted tightly together?” the priest said smoothly. “The Fates themselves grant us one or two places in our lives where the thread untwists and we can follow either one strand or the other. Better to know when and where those choices will come to us instead of being taken by surprise.”

“Why only one or two?” I asked, thinking of all the moments my life had already accumulated in which I’d chosen to follow a different path than the one most people would expect of me. “Why not say that every day lets me choose my own future?”

The priest chuckled. “What a gift you have for joking, Lady Helen! You
know
your future. You’ll be Sparta’s queen, living a life blessed by the gods. Your only surprises will be the name of your husband and whether your babies will be sons or daughters. You don’t need to visit the Pythia. But your noble brothers will be heroes, making their own futures; heroes should know what awaits them.”

“He’s right, Helen,” Castor said. “Polydeuces and I should know our fate.”

Castor’s fate? He didn’t need an oracle to discover that; I could tell him exactly what it would be. The young priest’s glib words were better than underground fumes for giving me a vision of what lay in store for both of my brothers: They were going to have their ears filled with flattery, then be persuaded to leave a rich gift at Apollo’s shrine just to hear some poor girl babble riddles while she choked half to death on smoke. Then they’d make
another
offering just to have Apollo’s priests translate the Pythia’s wild words. If their gifts to the sun god were too extravagant, I could also predict what Father would have to say about it when we got home.

As soon as our party came through the shrine gates, we were greeted by one of the senior priests. He directed the servants to take our baggage to the finest room the temple could offer.

“Unfortunately, noble guests, it is only
one
room,” he said. “My apologies, it’s all we can provide. Perhaps as you passed through the town, you saw how busy things are at the moment. Your attendants will have to find other lodgings. There are many fine inns at Delphi.”

Polydeuces frowned. “Our sister is the heir of Sparta and it’s our duty to protect her. Separating her from her guards…I don’t like it.”

The priest gave him a reassuring smile. “Noble prince, if you doubt that your strength alone will be enough to safeguard her, are you also unwilling to trust your sister to Apollo’s own protection? Do you believe that a few armed men can shield her better than the sun god himself? The temple grounds are sacred and secure. Of course, if you insist…”

“No, no.” Polydeuces turned a little pale at the thought of insulting Apollo, even accidentally. “I was only worried about what might happen if she left the shrine.”

“Why would she want to do that?” the priest asked. He had begun to talk about me as if I weren’t there, or worse, as if I were just another traveler’s chest to be stowed in one room or another. “If you tell her to stay on the temple grounds, you have no problem.”

Castor’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “That’s our sister, all right—just as tame and obedient as every other girl.” I jabbed him with my elbow.

“Perhaps you could help us find lodgings for our men at the inn that’s
closest
to the shrine?” Polydeuces asked the priest.

“A fine idea, noble prince.” He was all smiles. “It’s the best in Delphi. I know it well: It belongs to my cousin. Your men are lucky to have such a generous master.”

As he spoke, I became aware that Milo was edging closer to me. He looked fearful and unhappy. “Lady Helen, must I go away too?” he whispered. “You need me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” I whispered back to reassure him. “Go follow the men who carried our traveling chests and see what the room we’ve been given is like.”

He brightened immediately. “I’ll do better than that for you, Lady Helen! I’ll make sure that it’s clean, and that you have the best bed, and that—”

Either we’d been incautious and not whispered softly enough or the senior priest had the ears of a greyhound. Suddenly he was standing between us, and though he was still smiling, his words had a hard edge to them. “My deepest regrets, Lady Helen, but your slave cannot be lodged here with you.”

“Milo is
free,
” I said sternly, standing very tall. “He serves us very well, and my brothers and I need him with us. It’s not going to insult Apollo’s ability to protect me if he stays. He’s no guard.”

“So I see.” The priest gave Milo a patronizing look. “Gracious Lady Helen, how kind of you to tell me what will or won’t insult the god I’ve served since childhood. Alas, how deeply I regret to tell you that you are…mistaken. Do you believe that great Apollo would allow his noble guests to enjoy his hospitality unattended? You might as well say that you’ll need to provide your own food and drink because the sun god is too poor or too ungenerous to do so in his own house! Or perhaps you think that those who are good enough to serve Apollo
aren’t
good enough to serve you?”

“That isn’t why I—” I began, but Polydeuces cut my protest short.

“Our sister would
never
offend Apollo, would you, Helen?” I saw real fear in his eyes when he looked at me. It was clear that the sun god’s wrath had the power to terrify my bold, strong brother even when nothing else could.

I couldn’t let him be so afraid. I bowed my head to Apollo’s priest and said, “We’ll do as you tell us. Our guards and servants will all sleep elsewhere.”

“Oh, I’d never dare to
tell
you what to do, Lady Helen,” the priest replied. I didn’t have to look at his face. His voice alone told me that he was wearing a smug, victorious smile.

         
13
         

ENCOUNTER IN DELPHI

The senior priest did tell the truth about our lodgings. We were given a fine, comfortable room and spent a restful night. Early the next morning, one of the temple servants arrived with bread, wine, cheese, and news: “Noble guests, you will be permitted to see the holy Pythia today, as soon as you feel you are prepared to hear her voice.”

Castor and Polydeuces almost danced for joy. They talked together intensely, debating whether they’d do better to give Apollo two identical offerings or a single, truly impressive one. I stood by the doorway, arms folded, and said nothing.

At last they noticed my silence. “What about you, Helen?” Polydeuces asked. “What will you give to Apollo?”

“Nothing.”

“Helen, you can’t—” Polydeuces began to object.

I stopped him cold. “I’m giving the god nothing because I’m not coming with you to the temple. Why should I? You heard that priest.
My
future’s set.”

“We all know you don’t believe that,” Castor said, smirking. “Or is this your way of telling us that you’ve decided to put down the sword?”

“Oh, but I do believe it,” I replied. And I did. My future
was
set: The choices it held belonged to no one but me. I didn’t need or want the Pythia’s prophecies to guide me through them.

“This is about those two priests, isn’t it?” Polydeuces said. “You can’t fool me, little sister. I saw the look on your face, especially when you were listening to the young one. You were as skilled and gracious as Mother at changing the subject to save him from his own foolish remarks. He repaid your help by dismissing you as just another little girl.”

“You know, they were only
two
men,” Castor put in. “I doubt that all of Apollo’s priests here are like them.”

“And what if they are?” I countered. “Is Delphi about prophecy or greed?”

“So you think Apollo’s oracle is a fake?” Polydeuces asked quietly. He genuinely revered the gods.

“I didn’t say that and I don’t believe it,” I replied truthfully. “I’d gladly see Apollo’s oracle if it didn’t mean I’d have to see his priests.”

My brothers exchanged a look of resignation. “No use trying to talk her out of it, is there?” Castor asked.

“We know better than that,” Polydeuces replied. “Much better.” He turned to me. “Are you sure you won’t be too bored here, waiting for us to come back? We don’t know how long our time with the Pythia will last; I hope you’ll find something to do.”

“Of course I will,” I told him. “I’ll be exploring Delphi.”

“No you won’t,” my brothers responded in perfect unison. Then they took turns telling me exactly why I couldn’t do what I wanted.

“You wouldn’t be safe,” Castor said.

“You’d get lost if you went wandering around the city on your own,” Polydeuces added.

“It’s too big.”

“Too noisy.”

“Too confusing.”

“Too busy.”

“You could run into the wrong sort of people.”

“Dangerous types.”

“But sneaky enough so you couldn’t tell they’re dangerous until it’s too late.”

“We’re responsible for your safety.”

“We have to know where you are at all times.”

“It’s not that we don’t trust
you,
Helen.”

“It’s
them.
”

“It’s for your own good.”

I flopped down on my bed. “Fine. Go. I’ll stay here,” I told the ceiling.

Castor and Polydeuces each grabbed one of my wrists and pulled me back to my feet. “I don’t think so,” Castor said, chuckling. “You’d stay here, all right. You’d stay here just until you saw us go into Apollo’s temple, and then you’d be a little cloud of dust sailing out through the gates.”

“You don’t have to come with us,” Polydeuces said. “But if you want to tour this city, you’ll have to do it on
our
terms.”

With that, he left me in Castor’s company.

“Where’s he going?” I asked.

“Probably to see if the priests of Apollo have an oil jar big enough to stuff you inside for safekeeping.” He winked at me.

No matter how much I loved my brothers, I wasn’t in the mood for more teasing. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll insult the Pythia if you don’t go to see her right now? You
were
summoned. She could foretell terrible fates for the two of you if you keep her waiting.”

Castor didn’t seem worried. “If she’s truly blessed with the gift of prophecy, she already knows we’re going to be delayed. And if she can’t foretell that, she’s as much of an oracle as I am, so why should I care
what
she predicts?” He laughed out loud, then added, “But don’t tell Polydeuces I said that. He’s the devout one.”

Polydeuces returned only a little while later, accompanied by two of our Spartan soldiers. “I sent a messenger to the inn where they’re staying,” he told us. “They’ll look after you while Castor and I are with the Pythia. Have a good time in Delphi.” He acted as though he’d just solved every problem in the world.

I didn’t see it that way.

As we crossed the temple grounds together, I asked Polydeuces, “Is there a
good
reason you’re treating me like a silly sheep?” I indicated the two soldiers behind me. “Or are you embarrassing me like this just because you
can
?”

Castor spoke up before his twin could answer. “Stop making a fuss over nothing, Helen. These men will protect you, not steer you.”

“That’s right, Lady Helen,” the taller of the two said. “We’re your shadows, not your sheepdogs. Go anywhere you want.”

I gave him a sweet, innocent smile. Then I barked at him.

The soldiers and I watched my brothers enter Apollo’s temple. Then the taller one asked me where I’d like to go.

“I want to see Milo,” I replied. “He’s going to come with me while I look around Delphi.”

“Milo?” the other soldier echoed as we left the sanctuary grounds.

“You know, the little Calydonian,” his comrade said. “How stupid are you? It’s not like he blends in with the rest of us. A good lad, but fretful. He was up half the night worrying about how he’d ever know whether Lady Helen would need him to run errands for her while we’re at Delphi.”

“Is that right?” I asked.

The soldier nodded. “Yes, Lady Helen. It was a great kindness you did, freeing him from slavery, but now gratitude’s made him enslave himself to you. You’ve got a fine servant in that boy.”

“Not forever,” I said. “Right now there’s no choice about it—he’s got no family, no way to feed himself—but once we get home I’ll apprentice him to one of the palace craftsmen. Then he can live his own life.”

“A jug of wine says he’ll only be happy if he can live it close to
her,
” the first soldier muttered to the other, but when I demanded he repeat his words to my face, he claimed he’d said nothing at all.

My sheepdogs took me to the place where Milo was staying along with some of their companions. Even if the senior priest wanted his cousin’s inn alone to get our business, it wasn’t big enough to accommodate all of our Spartan guards together, so they’d split up into smaller groups staying at a handful of different lodgings.

As soon as Milo heard I had come for him, he ran out of the inn, overjoyed. “Lady Helen, are you well? What do you need me to do for you? How can I serve you?”

The soldiers escorting me snickered over his eagerness, until I silenced them both with a look colder than the snows of Mount Olympus. “Well, Milo, are you ready to get that cloak I promised you?” I asked.

“Cloak?” Of course he didn’t know what I was talking about, but he didn’t have to. After only a moment’s hesitation, he raised both hands to me, bowed his head, and said, “Whatever pleases you, Lady Helen.”

I walked through the streets of Delphi with one soldier ahead of me, one behind me, and Milo at my side. The day was new, but the city was already bustling. The crowded streets with all their noise and commotion were still annoying, but now that I’d had a good night’s sleep they were also exciting and challenging. I felt as if Delphi herself were calling out to me:
Come and know me if you can! It takes a special kind of person to learn my secrets. Are you strong or nimble enough to fight through my crowds? Are you smart enough to find your way through my streets? Are you wise enough to deal with any peril or adventure I might choose to throw across your path? I am Delphi, and I dare you to conquer me!

And
I
am Helen of Sparta,
I thought.
I’m your match, just wait and see. But first…

First I’d have to slip away from my sheepdogs.

The two Spartan soldiers escorting Milo and me were puzzled by my intention to get him a cloak, and they didn’t hesitate to say what they thought of the matter.

“A cloak?” the taller one remarked from behind me. “In
this
weather? That poor lad’s going to sweat away to nothing!”

“You know how cold the nights can get back home,” I said. “He doesn’t have to wear it
now.
”

“Then I can’t say it makes sense for him to
get
it now, Lady Helen,” the soldier ahead of us put in.

“The palace women make better cloth than any of this foreign stuff. A Spartan cloak for Spartan weather, that’s what
I
say.”

“The palace women aren’t here, and who knows what the weather’s going to be like on the road home?” I pointed out. “I want Milo to be prepared.” I paused at a place where two streets crossed and tapped my chin. “I wonder where the marketplace could be?”

“Everywhere, from the look of things,” the shorter guardsman said.

He was right. The whole city of Delphi teemed with buyers and sellers. It didn’t take us long before we found a house with piles of cloth displayed on a long bench just outside the door. The instant that I touched the first one, a fat, gap-toothed woman swooped down on me.

“Little girl, who gave you permission to—Oh!” She bit off her words the moment that she noticed how well I was dressed, to say nothing of the two guards attending me. Her expression transformed from sour to sweet with stunning speed.

“Ah, noble lady, I see that you have a keen eye for quality,” she cried. You won’t find better cloth anywhere in Delphi—warm in winter, light in summer, tightly woven, and proof against wind and rain. And just
look
at those colors!”

I did. They were all drab grays and browns. I held the first cloth up to the sunlight. If that was what she called a tight weave, so was a fishing net.

“I want a cloak,” I told her, tossing the cloth aside. “Something long and
heavy.
It’s for him.” I nodded at Milo.

“Of course, just as you wish, I have exactly what you want, wait right here,” she chattered. “I’ll bring out the best I have, something worthy of the noble lord.” She raised her hands to Milo in a gesture of reverence before ducking back into her house.

“‘The noble lord’?” the tall guard repeated, incredulous. He and his companion snickered. Milo looked miserable.

“Ignore them,” I told him, speaking low. “I promise you, before today is over, you’ll be the one laughing at them.”

The weaver came out of her house carrying a fresh pile of cloths. These were better work, solidly woven. They were all still the color of the dusty streets, but that was what I was after. She tossed them over Milo’s shoulders one after the other, to demonstrate the different lengths.

“What would the noble lord prefer?” she cooed at Milo, embarrassing him terribly. “If you’re most concerned about keeping out the cold, this one’s long enough to cover you from neck to heels and provide enough material to pull up over your head. But if you’d rather have something shorter…”

“That one will do,” I declared. It was perfect, but I knew better than to let her know that. “It’s not very well made, and there are snarls in the wool the size of locusts, but I have better things to do with my time than look at every scrap of cloth in Delphi.” So the bargaining began.

Milo’s cloak cost me the taller soldier’s small bronze knife. I promised him I’d give him a new spearhead in exchange, once we returned to Sparta.

“It’s an honor to serve you, Lady Helen,” he said as we continued to walk through Delphi. “I don’t require anything in exchange.”