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A trumpet blared the fanfare of Sparta in respect as Menelaus rushed his chariot through the gates and up the wide ramps to the gate of the royal courtyard. He threw the reigns to a bowing attendant and strode through the blood-red columned portico into the megaron.
* * *
As high king of Mycenae, Agamemnon lived in a palace twice the size of Menelaus's. His dark, thick curly hair fell into his eyes, but no one mistook the fierceness of his gaze. Known as the Lion of Mycenae, there was a sharp cruelty to his features that Menelaus hadn't inherited.
He'd watched his brother's approach from out on the parapet, and startled by a clap of thunder, spilled wine from his kantharos. He hurried down to the megaron to discover what had sent Menelaus to him at such a frantic pace. He dismissed his advisors to be alone with his brother, but he wasn't moved by his tale of loss.
"Of course you want Helen back, and the Trojan prince's treachery insults us all. But we needn't raise an army to attack Troy just yet," Agamemnon posed. "To capture Troy would give us a great prize, expand our trade into the Black Sea, and bring enormous wealth, but such an assault must be thoughtfully considered. First, we should show we are honorable men. I'll send emissaries to King Priam to demand Helen be returned to us. Troy is known for their love of peace, and our request should be granted."
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p; "And if it isn't?" Menelaus demanded. Weary from travel, his eyes were bloodshot, his posture sagged, and he appeared totally forlorn.
Agamemnon had never looked more regal and responded with a wicked grin. "Then I'll raise the greatest army the world has ever seen, and we'll go to war to claim Helen as our own. With the combined might of Greece, Troy will surely fall and shower us with its riches, and beautiful women for our beds."
"All I want is Helen," Menelaus stressed. "I refuse to lose her to a Trojan prince, or any man, who'd dare steal her from our Spartan home."
Agamemnon offered fine wine. "You have every right to your fury, but a cool head is needed now. A show of restraint will work to our advantage. Either Helen will be returned to you, or if not, we'll be ready for war with all the forces of Greece and seize her as well as Troy."
Menelaus shuddered. "You may love war, but I don't relish the bloodshed it will surely cause. I should go to Troy myself."
"No, you're the king of Sparta, and the matter of an errant wife shouldn't command your full attention. Don't let King Priam know how highly you value Helen, and he won't be prompted to demand an excessive ransom."
"I'll give him whatever he asks."
"You will not," Agamemnon nearly growled. "Don't let Alexandros's folly become your own. What did you make of Priam when you met him?"
"He was restrained at first, but became more cordial. My sacrifices to Lycus and Chimaerus did rid the plague from our land, but I'd have let thousands die had I known there was any danger I might lose Helen."
Passing by, Clytemnestra saw her husband and brother-in-law in close conversation and entered the megaron. "You're not looking well, Menelaus. I hope you've not fallen ill."
Menelaus stood and straightened his shoulders. "I'm only sick at heart. Helen has fled Sparta with a prince from Troy. I mean to get her back."
Astonished, her eyes widened in surprise. "Has she been kidnapped yet again?"
"No. She appears to have left willingly, but it doesn't matter. I'll bring her home soon, no matter how great an army we must raise."
Clytemnestra leaned against her husband and wrapped her arm around his. "You'd risk good men in such a venture? Why not let the whore go to her everlasting shame?"
"Helen is your sister!" Menelaus cried.
She kissed Agamemnon's cheek and turned away. "Helen has never thought of anyone but herself. She's disgraced us all, and I no longer have a sister. Forget her and take another pretty woman as you wife."
"Never," Menelaus vowed through clenched teeth. Clytemnestra had a beauty that hid her true selfish nature, but he'd already known she and Helen weren't close, and now he understood why.
* * *
Agamemnon's emissaries arrived in Troy bearing golden gifts for King Priam and were welcomed into the palace. "Have you also come to visit the tomb of Lycus and Chimaerus?" Priam asked. "I'd hoped no more of your people would succumb to the plague after the sacrifices Menelaus made."
The emissaries exchanged a startled glance. While tall, muscular men, they had been chosen for their wisdom and cool heads. The elder of the two responded, "Sire, Menelaus's pilgrimage was successful, and the illness has not spread. We've come to fetch the Spartan Queen Helen and return her to her husband and rightful home." His voice was pitched low, merely stating a fact, without making a strident demand.
Priam responded with a puzzled shrug. "We've not seen her. Why would you expect to find her here?"
The emissary spokesman continued, "She left Sparta with your son, Alexandros, while Menelaus made a brief voyage to Crete. He's willing to forgive her and sent us to escort her home."
Priam shifted as his ivory and gold throne became increasingly uncomfortable. "Are you certain she left Sparta with my son?"
"There is no doubt," the emissary assured him.
