Nobody's Princess

“Not fair! We’ve already heard at least six men speak.” He lined up six olive pits on the table in front of him. “All of them claimed their fathers were gods. If I can’t count them—”

“No, the game starts now, but you can count four of those, because I’m generous,” I teased, snagging away two of the six pits. “I’m still going to win.”

I had seven olive pits to Castor’s nine when Pirithous of Thessaly stood up. He must have been a famous man, because he was seated just three places away from Lord Oeneus. He began by letting all of us know that he was the son of Zeus. Castor ate another olive, spat the pit into his hand, set it down with the others, and mouthed I win at me. I was just about to ask him for a rematch when Pirithous finished his brag with the words: “But my lone adventures are only half of it. For the rest, Lord Oeneus, we must hear my dearest friend, my heart’s brother, Lord Theseus, king of Athens!”

At the sound of his name, Theseus rose from the seat next to Pirithous, a seat even closer to the king. I gaped at the sight of the handsomest man I’d ever seen, tanned and strong, with a ready smile. We were close enough for me to see his sea-green eyes and the streaks of gold running through his long, chestnut-colored hair. I didn’t know why the sight of him made my blood pound in my ears and my breath grow short. Even though he was much older than I, I couldn’t help feeling drawn to him. I even found myself thinking, My sister’s husband is much older than she is too. When he caught me gazing at him and flashed me a grin, I blushed from neck to hair.

Then he opened his mouth to speak.

To hear him talk about his adventures, you’d think he and Pirithous had fought their way to the throne of Hades and back. Not only was he Poseidon’s son, but he claimed a human father as well, the previous king of Athens. The monsters he’d slaughtered as a young man were the human sort—bandits who murdered innocent travelers—and then came his greatest victory: the minotaur! He’d sailed to Crete to face that terrible creature, half bull and half man. It feasted on human flesh, and Athens was compelled to send Crete seven youths and seven maidens every nine years to feed the beast. He slew it single-handedly, of course, freed the Athenian captives, and carried off heaps of Cretan gold, but not before he’d won the ardent love of the king’s own daughter, Princess Ariadne.

“I put an end to the minotaur,” Theseus declared. “Just as I’ll put an end to the Calydonian boar!” No one challenged his story—or even thought to ask what had become of that devoted Cretan princess—partly because the scars crisscrossing his chest and arms proved he wasn’t afraid of a real fight, but mostly because the other men soon went on to tell equally far-fetched tales of their own exploits.

So much for finding that attractive. I sighed. Theseus was handsome, but he was loud and arrogant. I remembered how Clytemnestra used to claim that my looks earned me unfair privileges, back when I was still a pretty child instead of the gangly girl I’d become. If someone would say the same of Theseus’s appearance, I bet he’d simply reply, Why, yes, of course I get special treatment, I’m entitled to it. Ariadne could keep him, if she even existed in the first place.

While the hunters took turns praising themselves, I nudged Castor and whispered, “Where’s the training ground?”

He thought he knew my reason for asking. “Oh no you don’t,” he said. “This isn’t Sparta. You heard what Lord Oeneus thinks of women who act like men. You’ll offend him.”

“What offends him is women who do better than men,” I said. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to do sword practice with any of them.” I indicated the still-swaggering hunters. “If one of them beats me, he’ll claim I had twelve arms, six heads, and spat poison. I just want to watch how you’re all preparing for the hunt.”

“Well, well, so you want to watch men exercising?” Castor snickered. “My little sister’s growing up!”

I gave him a hard look. “The boar isn’t the only pig around here.”

That made him laugh outright. “Ah, Helen, I’m only joking. But never mind where the training ground is. You can’t go. Lord Oeneus has forbidden any woman from lingering there, distracting us. He wants us to concentrate on getting ready to hunt the boar.”

I didn’t say another word on the subject. My brother was wrong. I didn’t want to go to the training ground to see the men; I wanted to watch Atalanta. I wanted to see for myself what a woman could achieve and how she did it.

I knew there was no question of sneaking there in my old disguise. My brothers would recognize me at once and send me away. They were honor-bound to respect the rules that our uncle had laid down.

That was all right. The training ground wasn’t the only place where I might be able to observe that astonishing woman. I’d find a way to get what I wanted: I was a huntress too.



It took me three days before I was able to find Atalanta away from the training ground, even though my aunt’s hectic life as hostess to all the hunters left me completely free. Each morning I disguised myself as a boy again and explored. No one bothered me. The coming boar hunt had filled the court of Calydon with dozens of new faces. I passed for just another one of the hunters’ servants.

My plan was simple. Meleager said that Atalanta had come riding up to the gates of Calydon. I didn’t know how to ride or much about horses, but I’d heard my brothers talk about the beasts often enough to know they needed to be exercised. I’d wait until Atalanta came to the stables to exercise her horse and follow her from there. I might not get to watch her practicing with weapons, but just being able to see her would be enough for me.