world without him, a shadow
of her former self, as if caught between the afterlife and the world of the
living, haunted by ghosts and the memories of her sons and her king.
Yet despite her mother’s ailments, Andromache could not feel too sad, not when
there was so much to see in this new, amazing world of hers.
Her chambers were far larger than any she had seen before, and the palace
itself was a huge maze of chambers, corridors and passageways, broken up by
balconies and balustrades that opened onto beautiful gardens and courtyards.
There were temples too; huge ones and tiny ones in the topmost towers, all
ornately decorated and scented - no matter their size. The palace had been
built against the huge walls of the city, and halfway up the palace’s great
height, one could walk out onto the ramparts of the walls and from this vantage
point the huge sandy shores could be seen opening before the city, the ocean
glistening beneath the sun a mile or so in the distance.
There was so much to see, Andromache thought with delight – and this was just
the royal palace! – and she wondered on the other palaces, smaller than the
royal household, but built across the city for the noblemen and women of Troy.
Hector’s sisters, or the daughters of Troy, as they were known to the
inhabitants of the city, fell upon Andromache with much fussing and delight
when news reached them that she had arrived. Andromache felt immediately that
she was one of them, so warm and enchanting they were.
Ilione, the eldest of the daughters, had long left the city with her Greek
husband, taking her youngest brother with her as her ward. The second eldest,
Creusa, who now insisted upon being entitled ‘eldest’ by default now that
Ilione was far away in foreign lands, was married and regarded Andromache as
both a younger sister and a possible protégé, her fair hair almost white, as
her mother’s had turned at a similar age, and Andromache soon felt a motherly
warmth from this elder of sisters.
“You will make a good wife to Hector,” Creusa said, upon embracing her. “I am a
good judge of character, and I can tell you and my eldest brother will make a
fair match.”
“Thank you,” Andromache said, extricating herself from her new sister’s arms,
unsure of what else she was expected to say to such a high compliment.
“Now, sister, anyone might think that perhaps you have the gift of foresight as
well,” another sister said, nudging Creusa out of the way so she might greet
her new sister. “I am Cassandra, entrusted with the gift of foresight,” she
said, at which Creusa snorted in derision. “I am a prophetess, and I share such
power with my twin brother, Helenus.”
Like Creusa, Cassandra was fair-haired, though hers had not yet begun to turn
white. She had a kindly face, not beautiful as the others, but pleasant,
Andromache thought.
“Nobody believes my prophecies,” Cassandra sighed, “Alas, I am cursed by the
Gods in that respect.”
“Now, now,” Creusa said levelly, “We all have our parts to play in life –”
“Easy for you to say, with your devoted husband, and your –”
“Jealousy is an evil trait in a princess,” Creusa snapped, flaring up to her
considerable height. Cassandra squared her shoulders, though she was shorter
than her elder sister and the affect was not so intimidating. Creusa put a hand
on her sister’s shoulder, the others watching, as if used to such disagreements
amongst them. “You should go to the temple and make your prayers if you aren’t
able to behave in such company –”
She trailed off, but Cassandra seemed cowed.
Pushing aside both of
of her former self, as if caught between the afterlife and the world of the
living, haunted by ghosts and the memories of her sons and her king.
Yet despite her mother’s ailments, Andromache could not feel too sad, not when
there was so much to see in this new, amazing world of hers.
Her chambers were far larger than any she had seen before, and the palace
itself was a huge maze of chambers, corridors and passageways, broken up by
balconies and balustrades that opened onto beautiful gardens and courtyards.
There were temples too; huge ones and tiny ones in the topmost towers, all
ornately decorated and scented - no matter their size. The palace had been
built against the huge walls of the city, and halfway up the palace’s great
height, one could walk out onto the ramparts of the walls and from this vantage
point the huge sandy shores could be seen opening before the city, the ocean
glistening beneath the sun a mile or so in the distance.
There was so much to see, Andromache thought with delight – and this was just
the royal palace! – and she wondered on the other palaces, smaller than the
royal household, but built across the city for the noblemen and women of Troy.
Hector’s sisters, or the daughters of Troy, as they were known to the
inhabitants of the city, fell upon Andromache with much fussing and delight
when news reached them that she had arrived. Andromache felt immediately that
she was one of them, so warm and enchanting they were.
Ilione, the eldest of the daughters, had long left the city with her Greek
husband, taking her youngest brother with her as her ward. The second eldest,
Creusa, who now insisted upon being entitled ‘eldest’ by default now that
Ilione was far away in foreign lands, was married and regarded Andromache as
both a younger sister and a possible protégé, her fair hair almost white, as
her mother’s had turned at a similar age, and Andromache soon felt a motherly
warmth from this elder of sisters.
“You will make a good wife to Hector,” Creusa said, upon embracing her. “I am a
good judge of character, and I can tell you and my eldest brother will make a
fair match.”
“Thank you,” Andromache said, extricating herself from her new sister’s arms,
unsure of what else she was expected to say to such a high compliment.
“Now, sister, anyone might think that perhaps you have the gift of foresight as
well,” another sister said, nudging Creusa out of the way so she might greet
her new sister. “I am Cassandra, entrusted with the gift of foresight,” she
said, at which Creusa snorted in derision. “I am a prophetess, and I share such
power with my twin brother, Helenus.”
Like Creusa, Cassandra was fair-haired, though hers had not yet begun to turn
white. She had a kindly face, not beautiful as the others, but pleasant,
Andromache thought.
“Nobody believes my prophecies,” Cassandra sighed, “Alas, I am cursed by the
Gods in that respect.”
“Now, now,” Creusa said levelly, “We all have our parts to play in life –”
“Easy for you to say, with your devoted husband, and your –”
“Jealousy is an evil trait in a princess,” Creusa snapped, flaring up to her
considerable height. Cassandra squared her shoulders, though she was shorter
than her elder sister and the affect was not so intimidating. Creusa put a hand
on her sister’s shoulder, the others watching, as if used to such disagreements
amongst them. “You should go to the temple and make your prayers if you aren’t
able to behave in such company –”
She trailed off, but Cassandra seemed cowed.
Pushing aside both of
Similar Books
