“Are all of these people dying to know how they’re going to die?” I muttered.
The priest mistook my grumble for a real question. “That’s not the only reason that brings people to Delphi. Heroes seek to learn which road will take them to their next triumph. Kings ask the oracle’s guidance when they wish to know whether or not to make war. Those who are fortunate enough to be granted an audience with the Pythia come away with the blessing of knowing their destiny.”
“But what good does it do to know your destiny?” I argued. “You can’t escape it. The three Fates spin, measure, and cut the life thread of every human being. Their decisions are final. Even Zeus can’t change them.”
“But Lady Helen, surely you’re skilled enough with the spindle to know that every length of thread is made of many smaller fibers twisted tightly together?” the priest said smoothly. “The Fates themselves grant us one or two places in our lives where the thread untwists and we can follow either one strand or the other. Better to know when and where those choices will come to us instead of being taken by surprise.”
“Why only one or two?” I asked, thinking of all the moments my life had already accumulated in which I’d chosen to follow a different path than the one most people would expect of me. “Why not say that every day lets me choose my own future?”
The priest chuckled. “What a gift you have for joking, Lady Helen! You know your future. You’ll be Sparta’s queen, living a life blessed by the gods. Your only surprises will be the name of your husband and whether your babies will be sons or daughters. You don’t need to visit the Pythia. But your noble brothers will be heroes, making their own futures; heroes should know what awaits them.”
“He’s right, Helen,” Castor said. “Polydeuces and I should know our fate.”
Castor’s fate? He didn’t need an oracle to discover that; I could tell him exactly what it would be. The young priest’s glib words were better than underground fumes for giving me a vision of what lay in store for both of my brothers: They were going to have their ears filled with flattery, then be persuaded to leave a rich gift at Apollo’s shrine just to hear some poor girl babble riddles while she choked half to death on smoke. Then they’d make another offering just to have Apollo’s priests translate the Pythia’s wild words. If their gifts to the sun god were too extravagant, I could also predict what Father would have to say about it when we got home.
As soon as our party came through the shrine gates, we were greeted by one of the senior priests. He directed the servants to take our baggage to the finest room the temple could offer.
“Unfortunately, noble guests, it is only one room,” he said. “My apologies, it’s all we can provide. Perhaps as you passed through the town, you saw how busy things are at the moment. Your attendants will have to find other lodgings. There are many fine inns at Delphi.”
Polydeuces frowned. “Our sister is the heir of Sparta and it’s our duty to protect her. Separating her from her guards…I don’t like it.”
The priest gave him a reassuring smile. “Noble prince, if you doubt that your strength alone will be enough to safeguard her, are you also unwilling to trust your sister to Apollo’s own protection? Do you believe that a few armed men can shield her better than the sun god himself? The temple grounds are sacred and secure. Of course, if you insist…”
“No, no.” Polydeuces turned a little pale at the thought of insulting Apollo, even accidentally. “I was only worried about what might happen if she left the shrine.”
“Why would she want to do that?” the priest asked. He had begun to talk about me as if I weren’t there, or worse, as if I were just another traveler’s chest to be stowed in one room or another. “If you tell her to stay on the temple grounds, you have no problem.”
Castor’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “That’s our sister, all right—just as tame and obedient as every other girl.” I jabbed him with my elbow.
“Perhaps you could help us find lodgings for our men at the inn that’s closest to the shrine?” Polydeuces asked the priest.
“A fine idea, noble prince.” He was all smiles. “It’s the best in Delphi. I know it well: It belongs to my cousin. Your men are lucky to have such a generous master.”
As he spoke, I became aware that Milo was edging closer to me. He looked fearful and unhappy. “Lady Helen, must I go away too?” he whispered. “You need me, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” I whispered back to reassure him. “Go follow the men who carried our traveling chests and see what the room we’ve been given is like.”
He brightened immediately. “I’ll do better than that for you, Lady Helen! I’ll make sure that it’s clean, and that you have the best bed, and that—”
Either we’d been incautious and not whispered softly enough or the senior priest had the ears of a greyhound. Suddenly he was standing between us, and though he was still smiling, his words had a hard edge to them. “My deepest regrets, Lady Helen, but your slave cannot be lodged here with you.”
“Milo is free,” I said sternly, standing very tall. “He serves us very well, and my brothers and I need him with us. It’s not going to insult Apollo’s ability to protect me if he stays. He’s no guard.”
“So I see.” The priest gave Milo a patronizing look. “Gracious Lady Helen, how kind of you to tell me what will or won’t insult the god I’ve served since childhood. Alas, how deeply I regret to tell you that you are…mistaken. Do you believe that great Apollo would allow his noble guests to enjoy his hospitality unattended? You might as well say that you’ll need to provide your own food and drink because the sun god is too poor or too ungenerous to do so in his own house! Or perhaps you think that those who are good enough to serve Apollo aren’t good enough to serve you?”