Nobody's Princess

“Husband?” This time I jerked my head so suddenly that my hair got tangled in the comb and I gave a little yelp of pain before I added, “I don’t want a husband!” And after hearing you talk, I definitely don’t want a Mykenaean, I thought.

“Don’t isn’t the same as won’t.” Ione chuckled knowingly as she picked up the pearls.



It was a splendid, lavish feast intended to impress Lord Thyestes’s ambassador so that when he went home he’d tell his master all about Sparta’s wealth and power. The tables creaked under the weight of platters filled with stewed rabbit and mutton, broiled fish, crackling loaves of barley bread, round white cheeses, fresh salads decorated with mint and parsley, even the special treat of roasted venison. Mounds of almonds and slabs of honeycomb were offered to our guest in dishes that had come all the way from Crete. I loved their beautifully painted patterns of fish, dolphins, and big-eyed octopi.

Midway through the feast, my father made the ceremonial announcement about my sister’s betrothal. Because she was the center of attention, Clytemnestra sat in a place of honor, between our parents, and glowed with pleasure when the Spartan nobles raised their voices in congratulations so loud they made the oil lamps flicker.

If my sister truly wanted to leave Sparta right away, Lord Thyestes’s ambassador shared her eagerness. I was seated at Mother’s left, so I had no trouble hearing when he leaned forward from his place beside Father and said, “Great lady, when can I tell Lord Thyestes to expect your noble daughter’s arrival?”

Mother offered him a sweet smile. “Not for two years, at the very least. She’s still too much of a child for marriage. I know that a young princess is often raised in her future husband’s house, so she can learn her new people’s ways, but if she’s too young, she might become so homesick that she won’t be able to think of anything except her family.”

“With all respect, great lady,” the ambassador said, bowing to my mother just a little bit, “Prince Tantalus will be her family.”

I saw Mother’s face harden until she looked like an image of the goddess Artemis just before she sends an arrow through some unlucky mortal’s heart. Her voice was icy when she replied, “With all my royal respect to your master, we who rule Sparta never employ messengers who think they can instruct a queen.”

The Mykenaean turned pale. His apology was coldly formal, and Mother accepted it just as coldly. It took my father’s hearty laugh to break the awkward mood and restore the banquet’s festivity.

I wondered how disappointed my sister would be when she found out she’d have to spend two more years with us. I hoped she wouldn’t feel that this was my fault too.





5

MY MOTHER’S PAST

The day after the banquet, I decided that I’d lost enough training time. I didn’t want Glaucus to think that I’d given up my desire to learn a warrior’s skills, so I bound my foot with extra cloth and slipped out of the palace to join my brothers. The gods be thanked, there was a big uproar at the gates as the ambassador left us. No one in the crowd noticed me, and Ione had quit being my watchdog.

When I reached the training ground, Glaucus was alone. And he didn’t look happy. “Someone had better teach your brothers that only fools and children believe it’s a brave thing to drink unwatered wine,” he said. He pressed his lips together and shot a poisonous look at the palace walls. “If their heads hurt today, just wait until I get my hands on them tomorrow. Meanwhile, you and I had better find another place to work on your warrior skills, princess.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because once that Mykenaean wine-bag leaves, the guards will go back to their regular duties. They expect to see me training your brothers. Even the sight of a third ‘boy’ down here doesn’t faze them—they probably reckon you for one of the princes’ playmates, a servant’s kid. But if they saw me spending my time on you alone, they’d smell a dead mouse in the barley and come charging down here to investigate. Understand?”

I nodded. Glaucus smiled, then picked up the bundle of practice javelins as easily as if they were made of straw. He strode off toward the river with me scurrying after him. I tried not to let him know that my heart was about to burst from sheer joy. Glaucus and all that he could teach me were mine alone, at least for one day. He wouldn’t have to split his attention between me and my brothers. I felt like singing.

He led me to a narrow part of the river, forested on both banks, out of sight of the palace walls. He dropped the practice javelins and dove into the water without bothering to remove a single piece of clothing, not even his sandals. Once across, he cut rings into the bark of three huge trees on the far bank, then came swimming back before I could wonder whether I was supposed to follow him or stay put. (Just as well. I’d never learned how to swim.)

“Here,” he said, handing me one of the practice javelins and nodding at the targets he’d improvised.

“Which one do you want me to hit?” I asked.

That amused him. “I’ll be happy if I don’t have to spend the rest of the day racing downstream, trying to recapture all the shafts that’ll wind up in the river. Just try to get it across the water, princess.”

His words made my face go hot. He’s trying to make me mad, I thought. He thinks he can control me like that, but it’s my life: I say yes or no.

I calmly picked up the first shaft, held it at eye level, and sighted down the length of it.

“I suppose that’s all I’ll be able to do with this one,” I said. “It’s warped. It won’t fly true.”

I picked up each one of the other fake spears and examined them in the same way. They were all just crooked enough to veer away from the target, no matter how skilled the thrower, and I said so.

The old soldier gave me a strange look, then checked the spears for himself. “Well, I’ll be Hades’s dinner guest!” he exclaimed. “You’re right! Good for you, princess.”