top of the steps, we paused for a moment, surprised at the large crowd in the main square.
Phoebus took Iphigenia’s arm. “They are waiting for you, my lady. They wish to cheer you on your way.”
“So many of them,” Iphigenia said.
Families were watching from the roof tops and women and children ran to the roadside to witness the departure. I heard one man shout Iphigenia’s name and like a ripple in a pond, more called out, until over a hundred voices sang a farewell to their princess.
At last we reached the cart and Phoebus helped us inside. The three attendants clambered after us.
“See how they love you,” the oldest of the attendants said, taking Iphigenia’s hand and guiding her to a ruck of straw. “Lie on that. It’ll be comfortable, for both of you.”
Iphigenia sat down, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms round her legs. “In case you haven’t guessed, Neomene, this is Rhea and she used to be my nurse. If I have children, she will be their nurse too.”
Rhea heaved herself onto the straw and I settled on the other side of Iphigenia .We watched the two younger attendants as they leaned out of the cart, calling to friends and family they might never see again. When Phoebus rode past in his chariot, the driver grumbled at the mules and the cart creaked forward to follow him. Then he cracked his whip and the mules broke into a trot.
Iphigenia sobbed quietly as we rode through the city, the younger attendants still waving at the crowds of people. I reached for her hand and Rhea smiled at both of us.
“Iphigenia,” she said gently, “introduce your other attendants to Lady Neomene.”
The girl took a deep breath and forced a smile. “The shorter one is Cybele. She came to the palace when her parents died and she’s been my special attendant ever since. Sometimes Rhea has to take care of both of us! The tall, dark-haired one is Io. She’s my mother’s favourite, but she’s given her up so she can come with me.” Iphigenia leaned towards me. “Mother says she’ll keep us all safe because she’s clever at knowing what the men are planning.”
“Clever?” Rhea chuckled. “It’s only because she listens to things not meant for her ears!”
Cybele stopped waving and sat down opposite me, staring at my legs. I glanced down to check what was wrong, but they didn’t appear to be any worse than usual.
“I’ve not met anyone from Ithaca before,” Cybele said, still staring. “You don’t look much different from us. My brother told me you all have … ”
“Cybele has a brother who tells her a lot of nonsense,” Io interrupted, flopping down next to her. “Unfortunately she believes most of it.”
“It might have been true. How was I to know? I mean, the god Bacchus has goat’s legs,” Cybele insisted.
I assured her no Ithacans I knew had goat’s legs.
“Are you sure? Not even King Odysseus?” she asked.
I laughed. “Not that I’ve noticed, but I’ll check next time I see him.”
By the time we’d reached the olive groves outside the city, Rhea was doing her best to distract Iphigenia with the story of brave Prometheus and how he stole fire from the gods to give to mortals. Then Io told the tale of the goddess Aphrodite’s love affair with Ares, the god of war.
“You’ve made us laugh, Io, though I’m not sure it’s a suitable story to tell a girl on her wedding day,” Rhea said, wiping her eyes. She tapped the shoulder of the stable boy sitting next to the driver. “Theo, your grandfather’s taught you some good tunes, play one for us.”
The boy must have been less than twelve years old and when he pulled the reed pipe from his tunic, I expected him to play a happy, simple tune. But when he put the pipe to his lips, the music that emerged was hauntingly beautiful. It quietened us all and eventually Iphigenia lay down and closed her eyes.
Rhea looked at her fondly and sighed. “I hadn’t expected a marriage so soon. I should have
Phoebus took Iphigenia’s arm. “They are waiting for you, my lady. They wish to cheer you on your way.”
“So many of them,” Iphigenia said.
Families were watching from the roof tops and women and children ran to the roadside to witness the departure. I heard one man shout Iphigenia’s name and like a ripple in a pond, more called out, until over a hundred voices sang a farewell to their princess.
At last we reached the cart and Phoebus helped us inside. The three attendants clambered after us.
“See how they love you,” the oldest of the attendants said, taking Iphigenia’s hand and guiding her to a ruck of straw. “Lie on that. It’ll be comfortable, for both of you.”
Iphigenia sat down, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms round her legs. “In case you haven’t guessed, Neomene, this is Rhea and she used to be my nurse. If I have children, she will be their nurse too.”
Rhea heaved herself onto the straw and I settled on the other side of Iphigenia .We watched the two younger attendants as they leaned out of the cart, calling to friends and family they might never see again. When Phoebus rode past in his chariot, the driver grumbled at the mules and the cart creaked forward to follow him. Then he cracked his whip and the mules broke into a trot.
Iphigenia sobbed quietly as we rode through the city, the younger attendants still waving at the crowds of people. I reached for her hand and Rhea smiled at both of us.
“Iphigenia,” she said gently, “introduce your other attendants to Lady Neomene.”
The girl took a deep breath and forced a smile. “The shorter one is Cybele. She came to the palace when her parents died and she’s been my special attendant ever since. Sometimes Rhea has to take care of both of us! The tall, dark-haired one is Io. She’s my mother’s favourite, but she’s given her up so she can come with me.” Iphigenia leaned towards me. “Mother says she’ll keep us all safe because she’s clever at knowing what the men are planning.”
“Clever?” Rhea chuckled. “It’s only because she listens to things not meant for her ears!”
Cybele stopped waving and sat down opposite me, staring at my legs. I glanced down to check what was wrong, but they didn’t appear to be any worse than usual.
“I’ve not met anyone from Ithaca before,” Cybele said, still staring. “You don’t look much different from us. My brother told me you all have … ”
“Cybele has a brother who tells her a lot of nonsense,” Io interrupted, flopping down next to her. “Unfortunately she believes most of it.”
“It might have been true. How was I to know? I mean, the god Bacchus has goat’s legs,” Cybele insisted.
I assured her no Ithacans I knew had goat’s legs.
“Are you sure? Not even King Odysseus?” she asked.
I laughed. “Not that I’ve noticed, but I’ll check next time I see him.”
By the time we’d reached the olive groves outside the city, Rhea was doing her best to distract Iphigenia with the story of brave Prometheus and how he stole fire from the gods to give to mortals. Then Io told the tale of the goddess Aphrodite’s love affair with Ares, the god of war.
“You’ve made us laugh, Io, though I’m not sure it’s a suitable story to tell a girl on her wedding day,” Rhea said, wiping her eyes. She tapped the shoulder of the stable boy sitting next to the driver. “Theo, your grandfather’s taught you some good tunes, play one for us.”
The boy must have been less than twelve years old and when he pulled the reed pipe from his tunic, I expected him to play a happy, simple tune. But when he put the pipe to his lips, the music that emerged was hauntingly beautiful. It quietened us all and eventually Iphigenia lay down and closed her eyes.
Rhea looked at her fondly and sighed. “I hadn’t expected a marriage so soon. I should have
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