Nobody's Prize

I was moved out of Lady Aithra’s quarters and into a windowless room so narrow that if I stretched my arms sideways as far as I could, my fingertips brushed the walls. The mat on which I slept took up most of the space, and a small, square table occupied what little was left. A few pieces of clothing were stuffed into a small box kept beneath the table, though most of my garments remained in Lady Aithra’s room. She was overseeing preparations for the wedding, which included collecting gowns and ornaments Theseus would want to see me wear. My dresses were being treated better than I was.

 

I did my best to keep idleness from filling my mind with worries over things I couldn’t control. I was concerned about what would happen when my parents finally learned my fate, and I did fret over where my brothers might be by now, but I couldn’t let such thoughts dominate my days. Hardest of all was cherishing my best memories of Milo without letting them drag me back into despair.

 

The only privacy I had was a curtain across the doorway, and it ended about a hand-span from the floor. I didn’t care. I had enough blankets to keep out the cold, and a door would have held in the smell from the night-soil pot in the corner. Theseus had rewarded my defiance by thrusting me into a storeroom, like the amphorae of wine that were also waiting for the king’s wedding day.

 

Telys stood on watch outside my doorway, never leaving his post except when Lady Aithra came with a group of attendants to escort me to meals. I suppose he used those times to gobble a little food himself. Sometimes I heard him hail any other guard who happened to be passing by in the hall, begging for a chance to take care of his body’s needs.

 

One night, four days before the wedding, I woke up from a dream in which I was sinking into a pit filled with smoke, choking on shadows. I woke up shaking, my mouth dry with fear. I’d pinched out my lamp before going to sleep and had no way to rekindle the wick, so my miserable excuse for a room was dark. My eyes were drawn to the space between the bottom of my door curtain and the floor, where a band of torchlight from the hallway danced and flickered.

 

“Telys!” I called out. “Telys, I want water! And here, light this.” I fumbled for the dead lamp and stuck it out under the curtain. My guard had been instructed to obey my wishes and serve me as well as he could without abandoning his post. If I needed something fetched, he managed to obey by shouting for one of the palace slaves. He had a thin, bleating voice like a frightened goat’s. After six days, I’d know it anywhere.

 

The voice that boomed the command “Water for Lady Helen!” was deep, strong, and most definitely did not belong to Telys. I crept to the doorway, flicked back the curtain, and peered out to see a strange face. He answered my puzzled look with a broad, self-assured grin.

 

“Where’s Telys?” I asked.

 

His grin got wider. “He’s got to sleep sometime, Lady Helen. Besides, Lord Theseus doesn’t trust him to stand guard at night. He said you’d probably be able to convince that scrawny goose-brain that you were dying, and when he ran to bring help, you’d vanish into the dark.”

 

“I didn’t know Theseus thought I was so clever,” I said.

 

The guard laughed. “More like he thinks Telys is so stupid. On the day he says one good word about that dolt, the sky will rain wine and honey. Lord Theseus despises him.”

 

“Then why doesn’t he get rid of him?”

 

“He would if he could.” The guard scratched the back of his head and spit on the floor. “But too many folks would say it was a poor way for any man to treat his brother.”

 

“What?”

 

The guard chuckled. “Oh, yes, you heard me right, Lady Helen. Telys is Lord Aegeus’s son. His mother was a slave, and not even a pretty, young one. She’s the reason he didn’t bring Lady Aithra to Athens.”

 

“He loved that slave woman so much that he kept his own wife away?” I could hardly believe it.

 

“‘Wife’?” the guard echoed. “Lord Aegeus never married Lady Aithra, though none say that where Lord Theseus might hear.” He shrugged. “Anyway, she’s the daughter of Troezen’s king, so it’s her boy who rules this land now. When Lord Theseus first showed up in Athens, Lord Aegeus had no choice but to send the slave girl away. He set her free and gave their child a place of honor in the palace as one of the guards. So here Telys stays, because Lord Aegeus wanted to provide for his son and Lord Theseus wants to keep a close eye on his brother. A very close eye,” he added meaningly.

 

“Does he think Telys will try to take the throne from him someday?” I asked.

 

I got a scornful snort for an answer. “He hasn’t got the grit for it.”

 

I didn’t like his tone. “Maybe he’s simply faithful to his half brother. Does betrayal count as a virtue in Athens? You make it sound like treachery’s the same as courage.”

 

A worried look flashed across the guard’s face. “That’s not what I meant,” he said quickly. “I’m loyal to my king! I felt sorry for you, up at this lonely hour, so I talked to you, all friendly, and for what? So you could twist my words and get me in trouble, carrying lies to Lord Theseus?”

 

I shook my head. “All I wanted was water and a light for my lamp. You haven’t gotten me either one yet. Telys always manages to fulfill my requests at once. Maybe he’s not so worthless after all.”

 

The guard grumbled and lit my lamp from one of the torches, then bawled for water so ferociously that a sleepy slave came running, stumbling under the weight of a painted jug. I returned to my mat satisfied, but I couldn’t get back to sleep. My mind was buzzing.

 

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