prepared her.”
“We’ll help her through it,” Io said quietly.
Iphigenia looked too young to take on the role of a woman, with her auburn curls framing her sweet, round face and her small hand clutching the ivory lion. I pulled Penelope’s cloak around me and touched my brooch. Please let Achilles love her. Feeling the cart roll from side to side, I leant back against the wooden panel and eventually closed my eyes.
The three servants lowered their voices, though I could hear most of what they said.
“Are they asleep, Rhea?” Io whispered.
“Looks like it. They’ll be tired from last night.”
“Then listen to this. Achilles. He’s already got a young son. Agamemnon’s messenger told the queen all about it. Achilles’ mother made him hide on an island, so he wouldn’t have to fight in the wars. Rumour is, Odysseus found him disguised as one of the island’s princesses and living with them in the women’s quarters!”
Cybele giggled. “Living in the women’s quarters! Bet you wish your blacksmith friend had thought of that.”
“It would have been fun, but his beard would have given him away,” Io laughed. “It worked for Achilles because he was only eleven when he arrived and I suppose they thought it safe for him to mix with the women. They should have kept a better watch on him; the eldest princess had his baby within a year.”
“How?” cried Cybele, forgetting to whisper. “I mean, I didn’t think a boy could … could … ”
“I expect he was advanced for his age, with his mother being a goddess,” Rhea said quickly.
“And now he’s no ordinary seventeen year old. They say he’s the fiercest fighter in all of Greece. He was too young to swear the oath to protect Lady Helen, but he’s eager to fight in Troy.”
“How do you know all this, Io? Me and Rhea aren’t told hardly anything, and we’ve been attending Iphigenia and Lady Clytemnestra longer than you have. Who tells you these things?”
I heard Rhea chuckling. “No one tells her, she has a certain way of listening.”
When the subject changed to what they imagined Achilles’ palace to be like, I thought about the servant Mother would select for me, when eventually I had to marry. She’d know better than let me out of her control with someone like Io. With my questions and her listening, we’d learn too much.
Rhea was soon telling another story, imitating the voices of Atlas and Hercules as they passed the weight of the world onto one another’s shoulders. I listened for awhile but the rolling of the cart must have sent me to sleep, because I woke with a start, looking round for Iphigenia. She was still asleep, looking small as she lay with her head on Rhea’s lap.
I moved into a more comfortable position and closed my eyes again as I listened to the creak of the wood and the occasional remark by the drowsy attendants. Slowly the cries of the eagles gave way to buzzards and lark. Then I heard the first seagull and knew we were nearing the sea. I sat up at the sound of a man’s voice.
Phoebus had drawn his chariot alongside our cart. He nodded at me. “It’s not far now. I think you’d best wake Iphigenia.”
One by one the others stirred. Iphigenia rubbed her eyes, looking confused. Then she saw me. “Oh, the wedding, the wedding.” She turned to Rhea. “Do I have to get ready?”
“We’ll just tidy you up a little for now and then prepare you properly at Aulis. There’s plenty of time, plenty of time,” Rhea soothed. She picked straw from the girl’s hair and beckoned to Cybele, who brushed down her cloak.
I edged away and joined Io at the front of the cart. We peered over the driver’s shoulder and watched Phoebus lead the way up a serpentine track. The mules trudged wearily after him, their ears back as they strained to pull the load.
“We carry on right to the very top of the cliff. We’ll get a good view of the harbour from there,” the driver explained.
My stomach tightened. So it
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