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Helen recognized the goddess by her rare beauty, but refused to heed her call. "Menelaus has defeated Paris, and rather than despise and punish me, he wishes to take me home. Go to Paris yourself. If you love him so, abandon the immortals on Mount Olympus and become his human wife."
Aphrodite's gaze filled with fury. "Do not provoke me, girl, or I'll have both the Greeks and Trojans curse your name for all eternity!"
Helen recoiled in fright, worn-out by too many sleepless nights and heartbreaking days tending the wounded. She closed her eyes and shook her head, but she couldn't shut out Aphrodite's hateful threats. She had simply suffered too much to withstand the furious goddess's abuse and reluctantly went with her into the palace. Paris had bathed and dressed in fine robes, and had he suffered even the smallest harm, it didn't show.
There were tears in Helen's eyes as she greeted him. "You've often boasted of how easily you'd beat Menelaus in a sword fight, but you fled the battlefield, and he won the day."
Paris rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. "The fault isn't mine. Athena helped him, but we have Aphrodite on our side. I'll fight Menelaus again tomorrow, but let's not waste anymore of today worrying about him. I've never wanted you more. You've enchanted me from the day we first met. Come to bed with me, and love me as you always have."
She did love him, or had loved him once, when time had stood still in the Egyptian desert. She followed him to their gilded inlaid bed, but she felt only sorrow at what their lives had become. Passion washed over him in a soothing balm, and he lost himself in her heat, but her troubled soul left her heart untouched.
* * *
The gods reveled on Mount Olympus. They gathered at the golden tables of Zeus's palace to drink nectar and feed each other luminous spoonfuls of ambrosia. The king of the gods was in an expansive mood. "Lady Hera and Athena may have allowed Aphrodite to spirit Paris away to Troy today, but clearly their favorite Menelaus has won the day. He'll return to Sparta with Helen, and Troy will continue to thrive under King Priam's rule."
Hera fumed and her robe swirled at her feet as she paced in front of her husband. "I say the war isn't over until the Greeks have vanquished that vile Troy."
"I hold Troy sacred, my darling wife, and what terrible wrong have the Trojans done to you that you would destroy their lovely town?"
She turned to face him. "I have defended the Greeks throughout this lengthy war and need not explain myself to you."
The Lord of Storms and Thunder stared at his belligerent wife with a narrowed gaze. "If I give you this to keep peace between us, then when I wish to tear apart a city beloved to you, you must give me my way."
Hera broke into a beaming smile. "So it shall be. Raze one of my favorite cities, Argos, Sparta or Mycenae, and I will offer no defense. For now, send Athena down to prompt the Trojans to break the truce."
"Fine," Zeus answered, for he had let Agamemnon believe he'd win the day, when he fully intended for Troy to triumph. "Fly at once, Athena, and see that the Trojans are the first to break the truce, and they'll overrun the Greeks." He may have given Hera her way, but the Greeks were still locked in a battle they couldn't win.
* * *
Athena donned her golden sandals and dived off the Olympus heights. She soared through the sky like a shooting star and plunged down among the warriors of both sides still milling about the plain and speaking of the truce. She quickly shape-shifted to become a Trojan warrior and sought out Pandarus, the finest archer of Troy. She greeted him warmly and easily tempted him into action. "Brave, Pandarus, shoot an arrow at Menelaus and kill him, and you'll win great fame. Prince Paris will praise your name and reward you handsomely. Swear to Apollo, the Wolf-god, and most glorious archer, that you'll give him many sacrifices when you return home."
Tantalized by her sweet promise of fame, Pandarus pulled a hawk-fletched arrow from his quiver and made that promise to Apollo as he drew back the string of his mighty back-bent bow. He held his breath as he took careful aim and sent the razor sharp bronze arrow flying. He saw Menelaus fall, and he leaped into the air rejoicing at his deadly accuracy.
Clever Athena had flicked the arrow so it only grazed Menelaus skin rather than do him any grave injury. The point pierced where his belt and breastplate overlapped and the guard shielding his loins. Blood ran down his thigh from the wound, but he was in no serious pain.
Horrified, Agamemnon dropped to his knees beside his fallen brother, and he took his hand. "The dishonorable men of Troy have broken the truce, now Priam must die and all who dwell with him!"
"No, don't alarm the men," Menelaus cautioned. "I've not suffered a mortal wound. My armor blunted the arrow's thrust."
"I pray you're right," Agamemnon responded, and he sent for the renown healer Machaon who came running to Menelaus's side.
Machaon deftly removed the arrow, and unbuckled Menelaus's war belt, breastplate and guard. He sucked the blood from the wound and applied the healing salves he carried. "It is a shallow cut, my lord, and will heal quickly, but what of the truce?" he asked.
Agamemnon grasped his brother's shoulder. "Rest in your shelter, Brother, I'll make the Trojans pay for betraying their sworn oath." With his sword in his hand, he rallied his warriors for if the Trojans wanted war, then he would give it to them, and he yelled a battle cry and charged with his incensed troops.
Hektor fought all afternoon, but even with the War god Ares taking their side for a while, he feared the Trojans might soon be overwhelmed. His brother Helenus came to his side with an urgent request. He spoke in a heated rush, "Go and have our mother make sacrifices of calves and a fine robe to Athena. We must turn the goddess's sympathy to Troy, or I fear we'll lose this war and all we hold dear."
Eager for all the help he could raise, Hektor hurried toward the city. He passed Zeus's holy oak tree and was quickly surrounded by Trojan wives eager for news of their husbands. They implored him with tragic, outstretched hands, and he quickly brushed their fingertips. He felt for them and his voice cracked as he spoke, "Pray to the gods," he told them and rushed on.
Queen Hecuba kissed his cheek as he entered her elegant chamber, her brow furrowed with worry. "My son, why have you left the battle?" she asked.
"I've come to ask you to make animal sacrifices to Athena to gain her favor. Gather a fine robe as well, Mother, and take them all the Athena's temple and pray for us to triumph over the Greeks."
"I will hurry to do what you ask, my dear, Hektor," she promised.
Hektor left her to seek out his wife, and a servant told him she could be found on the main wall near the Scaean Gate. He saw her as he approached and Andromache rushed int
o his arms and wept against his chest.
