"No; Aeneas came and told me not to sleep under a roof that night, and to take the children outdoors," her sister said. "What have you foreseen?"
Creusa knows as well as I do that I have seen death, and the destruction of Troy, she thought, but she was sure her sister had some reason beyond the ordinary for asking. She said, hesitating, "Are you sure you want to know? Priam has forbidden anyone to listen to my prophecies. It might be better not to anger him."
"Let me tell you then why I ask," said Creusa. "Aeneas told me that you prophesied that he would survive the fall of Troy."
"Yes," said Kassandra, embarrassed. "It seems the Gods have work for him elsewhere; for I have seen him departing unharmed, and behind him Troy in flames."
Creusa's hands flew to her bosom in a strange gesture. "Is this true?"
"Do you believe I would lie about it?"
"No, no, of course not; but why should he be chosen to be spared when so many will die?"
"I do not know; why were you and your child spared when Helen lost three sons in the great quake?"
"Because Aeneas heeded your warning and Paris would not."
"That is not what I meant," Kassandra said. "No one can say why the Gods choose one to die and another to live; and perhaps those who live may not be the most fortunate."
wish I were sure that only death waited for me, she thought, but she did not say so to Creusa.
"Aeneas has ordered me to leave the city and take the children," Creusa said.
"Children? I thought you had only your little girl—"
"But Aeneas has a son by his earlier marriage; I am to go, perhaps to Crete, to Knossos or even further. I was thinking I should refuse to go, to say that my place was at his side, come war or death; but if it is true that he is certain to survive, then I can understand why he wants me to go… so that we may meet in safer country when the war is over."
"I am sure he is thinking only of your safety."
"He has been strange lately; I wondered if he had found himself another woman and wanted me out of the way."
Kassandra said through a dry mouth, "Even if it should be so, would it matter? Since almost everyone in the city is to die in its fall—"
"No, I suppose not; if one of them can make him happy for a little time," Creusa said, "and they are all going to die anyway -why should I care? So you think I should go?"
"I cannot tell you that; I can say only that there are few who will survive the city's fall," Kassandra said.
"But is it safe to travel with a child so small?"
"Honey could not have been more than a few days old when I found her, and she survived and thrived. Children are stronger than we think."
"I thought only that he wished to be rid of me." Creusa said. "But you have made me understand why it is best that I should go. Thank you, Sister." Unexpectedly she put her arms around Kassandra and hugged her hard. "You too should forsake the city before it is too late. You did not make this war with the damned Akhaians, and there is no reason you should perish with the city. I will ask Aeneas to arrange that you should be sent away—"
"No," Kassandra said. "It seems that this is my destiny, and I must abide it."
"Aeneas speaks well of you, Kassandra," Creusa said. "He told, me once you were more clever than all of Priam's officers together, and that if you were in command we might even win this war."
Kassandra laughed uneasily, and said, "He thinks too well of me then. But you must go, Creusa; gather together your possessions and be ready to depart whenever he can find you a ship, or whatever means he may find to take you and the children to safety."
Creusa embraced her again. She said, "If I am to depart soon, we may not meet again. But wherever destiny may take you, Sister, I wish you well; and if Troy truly does fall, I pray that the Gods may preserve you."
"And you," Kassandra said, kissing her cheek; and so they parted. Kassandra watched her sister out of sight, knowing in her heart that she would never see Creusa again.
CHAPTER 5
Since the battle when five of the Akhaian ships had been burnt to the waterline and others greatly damaged, the Akhaians had drawn their blockade so tight that—as Hector said - a crab could not crawl into the city. For that reason, Aeneas made no attempt to get Creusa away by sea; she was sent in a cart around to the landward side, and along the coast for many miles past the blockade, where a ship would take her first to Egypt and then to Crete. Kassandra watched her depart, and thought that if Priam had any sense he would order all the women and children out of the city. However, she said nothing; she had done her best to give warning.
Even the landward side of the city was no longer completely safe. A wagonload of iron weapons from Colchis was intercepted and brought into the Argive camp with great celebration. Soon after, a small army of Thracians, coming overland to join Priam's forces, was waylaid by Akhaian captains—rumour said by Agamemnon and Odysseus themselves - and all the horses stolen, and the Thracian guards murdered.
"This isn't war," Hector said,"this is an atrocity. The Thracians were not yet part of Troy's armies and Agamemnon had no quarrel with them."
"And now he never will have," said Paris cynically.
This touched off another attack by the Akhaians, led by Patroklos, who again climbed the walls at the head of his own men; the Trojans managed to repel them, and Patroklos was reported wounded, although not seriously.
At Kassandra's earnest petition, the people of the Sunlord's house built an altar, and sacrificed two of Priam's finest horses to Poseidon. Another earthquake could pull down every wall and gate of Troy and leave the city open to the besieging forces of the Akhaians. This was now Kassandra's only fear; she knew it must come, but if the Trojans put all their efforts into the placating of Poseidon, he might still hold his hand.
The Akhaians forces fought without their greatest warrior;
Akhilles still remained in his tent. Now and again he would come forth - not dressed for battle - and walk about the camp, morosely alone or in company with Patroklos, but what they talked of, no one could say. Rumours brought by spies said that Agamemnon had gone to Akhilles and offered him his first choice of all the city's spoils for himself and his men, but Akhilles had answered only that he no longer trusted any offer Agamemnon might make.
"Can't blame him," Hector said. "I wouldn't trust Agamemnon as far as I could heave him with one thumb. Damned convenient for us, though, this quarrel in the enemy camp; while they're, fighting each other, we have time to repair our walls and get our defenses together. If they ever make it up, and decide to work together, then God help Troy."
"Which God?" Priam asked.
"Any God they haven't already bribed to be on their side," Hector said. "Suppose Aeneas and I got into some sort of fight, and refused to work together?"
"I hope that we never find out," Aeneas said. "For I suspect on that day we would have doomed ourselves more quickly than the Gods could doom us."
Priam pushed restlessly at his plate, on which was only a sparse assortment of vegetables and some coarse bread.
"Perhaps we might arrange a hunt on the landward side," he said. "I would be glad of some venison or even rabbit."
"I had not thought I would hear you say that, Father; for so long we were glutted with meat when the goats had to be slaughtered for lack of fodder; we kept only a few for milk for the smallest children," Hector said. "The pigs can eat what is left from the tables, and there are still some acorns in the groves; but now there is little left. Perhaps we can hunt—"