I saw how the messenger stared at Queen Leda, drinking in her beauty. He’s probably thinking that it’s all true, the story about how Zeus himself fell in love with Mother, I thought. He was so distracted that Father had to ask him twice to speak. Finally he did. “Hail, Lord Tyndareus! Greetings and love from my noble master, Lord Thyestes of Mykenae. My king asks the gods to bless you and your house and bids me say that the day you have all prayed for has come. Prince Tantalus is ready to receive his bride. Lord Thyestes has made rich sacrifices in all the temples of Mykenae and even sent offerings to Apollo’s shrine at Delphi, asking for blessings on your children’s future. The omens are good; the gods approve.”
“May the gods bless Lord Thyestes and all his royal house,” Father replied, speaking as formally as the occasion demanded. “You will feast with us tonight to celebrate the happy news you’ve brought us. You will then return to Lord Thyestes tomorrow and tell him to prepare to receive my daughter, the princess Clytemnestra. She’ll leave in five days’ time, accompanied by her bridal goods and attendants, including her brothers, the princes Castor and Polydeuces, the royal sons of Sparta. Tell your master that my queen and I pray our daughter will be a wife worthy of Lord Thyestes’s son.”
I looked at my sister. She’d spent the past four years of her life preparing to become Prince Tantalus’s bride, the future queen of Mykenae. Now the waiting was over. In only five days, she’d leave her land, her home, her family. What was she feeling? I tried to read her face. Her lips were pressed together tightly and I saw a little red rising to her cheeks, but that was all.
She always did say she was eager to leave us, I thought. I know we’re supposed to stand here like statues, but if I were the one getting my heart’s desire, at least I’d smile, just a little.
After the feast that night, I took the earliest possible opportunity to go back to my room. I didn’t bother calling for Ione to fetch a little oil lamp—the moon was almost full, and the stars washed the sky with light. I could see well enough, and I wanted to be alone. I needed some time to myself, to think about what my life was going to be like after Clytemnestra left.
My sister and I might not have gotten along as well as Castor and Polydeuces, yet there was still a bond between us. I treasured the times that she’d treated me like a friend, not a rival. What would she say if I let her know that I envied her as much as she seemed to envy me? She had such a talent for making beautiful things! The blouse she’d embroidered as a gift for me was the finest thing I owned. When she helped me with my own dreadful needlework, she did it without making fun of my poor skills. I think that was the best way she had to let me know she cared about me. I wished I had a way to show how deeply I cared about her.
A cool breeze came in through the window, bringing the green scent of cedars and pine from the hills. I stood there gazing out toward the mountains, wondering if my sister would believe me if I told her how much I’d miss her.
A strange sound from behind me made me turn quickly. The moonlight couldn’t reach every corner of my room; the small, half-choked sound was coming from a deep pool of darkness in the corner nearest the doorway.
“Who’s there?” I called. The sound came again, and now I recognized it: a sob.
Before I could say another word, the sob broke into a harsh bout of weeping as a shadow came rushing out of the corner and into my arms. Soft hands clung to me, a tear-streaked face pressed itself against my cheek, and in my ear my sister’s anguished voice cried, “Oh, Helen, it’s really happening. I just realized that it…I’m scared. I don’t care if I’m never queen of anything, I don’t want to marry a stranger! Sister, save me; you’re our future queen, there must be something you can do. Talk to Father, to Mother, beg them to change their minds; they’ll listen to you. Don’t let them do this to me! Oh, Helen, please help me. I want to die!”
I let her cry in my arms until we heard the sound of footsteps and Ione came running into my room, carrying a lamp.
“There you are!” she exclaimed when the light fell on Clytemnestra. “When you weren’t in your room, I—”
My sister threw herself into our nurse’s arms and wept louder while I told Ione what was wrong. She was sympathetic, but coldly practical. “A fine time to change your mind!” she told Clytemnestra. Then she turned to me. “Not that it would’ve mattered if she’d said no to this four years ago. It’s Lord Tyndareus’s decision. You can talk to your father all you like, child, but don’t expect him to call off the marriage. Didn’t you hear the messenger? The gods have spoken.”
Ione had a point. The gods desired my sister’s marriage. More important, the king of Mykenae desired it, and Mykenae was powerful and proud. If Father called off the wedding, the insult could bring war. One girl’s unhappiness was nothing next to the safety of all Sparta. He’d never budge, but I couldn’t just accept that without doing something for my sister. At least I had to try.
Lord Thyestes’s messenger headed back north the next morning. As soon as he was out of the palace, I went to my parents and said I needed to speak with them about an urgent, private matter. The three of us went up to their sleeping chamber, where I told them that when Clytemnestra and my brothers set out for Mykenae, I wanted to go too.
“Out of the question,” Father said almost before I’d finished speaking.
“Tyndareus, wait,” Mother said, taking my hand. “Let her tell you her reasons before you say no.”
“What reasons could she have that would be more important than her safety?” he countered. “The roads are full of dangers.”
“But you’re sending Clytemnestra over those same roads,” I pointed out.
“She has to go,” he said. “You don’t.”
“But I want to,” I said. “My sister needs me. She’s going to a strange land, a strange house, a total stranger for a husband. It’s terrifying! If I travel with her, she’ll have something familiar to hold on to, someone to talk to on the journey.”
“She’ll have the boys,” Father replied.
“They’ll be on horseback all the way to Mykenae,” Mother told him. “And they won’t have time to talk to her or even listen to her: They’ll be too busy staying alert for any perils on the road.”