The Hittite by Ben Bova

Author:Ben Bova
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Action & Adventure, Hittites, Fiction, Trojan War, Historical, Troy (Extinct city), General, Alternative History
ISBN: 9780765324023
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2010-04-13T19:09:39.891613+00:00

7

As soon as Paris left Helen for the afternoon’s fighting, donned once more in his gleaming armor, she summoned me to her. Since childhood I had been the one person she could confide in.

I knew what was tearing at her heart. I should have realized it sooner; perhaps then I could have done something to help my dearest. Helen gazed at me with all the pain and bewilderment she felt brimming from her eyes. I could do nothing except hold out my arms to her. She burst into tears and ran to me.

Burying her face in the warmth of my embrace, Helen blurted, “Oh, Apet, Apet, I love him but he doesn’t love me. He can’t love me, not now or ever. How can I live? How can I watch him risk his life day after day because of me?”

“Prince Hector,” I murmured.

“What can I do?” she pleaded. “Where can I turn?”

I wrapped my arms around her and rocked her softly as I had done when she was a baby. The only wisdom that I could think of was, “You must go to the goddess and ask her aid.”

“ To Aphrodite?”

“She is your protectress and guide. She will give you the strength to find the right path.”

“Yes,” Helen agreed, wiping her tears with the back of her hands. “Aphrodite.”

As we walked hurriedly through the empty corridors of the palace I could hear the city’s populace roaring and cheering from up on the walls, their shouts like the howls of a wild beast. The queen was up there with all the royal women, I knew, including Hector’s wife, Andromache. I could not bear the thought of letting them see Helen so unhappy.

The temple was dark and chill. At Helen’s command the five priestesses who tended the votive fire beneath the goddess’ statue removed themselves to the outer chamber. I alone went with Helen to stand before the altar. The graceful marble likeness of beautiful Aphrodite rose three times taller than my own height, and still it only hinted at the goddess’ power and splendor.

Aphrodite had ever been Helen’s guide, her protectress. Even now she defended Troy against the jealousy of Athene before almighty Zeus atop lofty Mount Olympos, the home of the gods. In the dimly lit temple her face was in shadow, but I felt her painted eyes gazing down upon Helen as she sank to her knees at the goddess’ feet, miserable and confused.

“Beautiful Aphrodite, guardian of my heart, how can I live in such wretchedness?” Helen breathed, so softly that I could barely hear her words. “How can I remain married to Paris when it is Hector whom I truly love?”

I dared not look up at the goddess’ face. The temple felt cold, silent and empty. What Aphrodite imparted to my dear one I know not, but I know what was in my heart, the sad truth of her fate: Helen, your path has ever been difficult. Great beauty such as yours stirs the passions of mortals and even the jealousy of goddesses.

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