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"Look," Polyxena said, and pointed, barely raising her arm. Far out on the plain, figures were moving; as they came nearer, Kassandra made out Akhilles, his pale hair shining in a blinding streak of sunlight. He was walking at the head of a small procession; behind him, eight of his soldiers carried a body on a pallet - it could only be that of Hector - and behind them came a half dozen Akhaian chieftains, in full armor, but bearing no weapons.

At least for once Akhilles has kept his word. She let out her breath, only now realizing that until she saw Hector's body she had not for a moment expected him to do so.

They were nearer now; she could make out individual faces and even see the details of the embroideries on the pall that covered Hector's body. Akhilles bowed before Priam and said, "As I promised, my Lord of Troy, behold the body of your son."

"The ransom awaits you, Prince Akhilles," Priam said, and went to the pall, folding back the heavy covering to expose the face. "First let me make certain that it is truly the body of my son—"

Hecuba came to stand beside him as he rolled back the pall, with Penthesilea ready beside her should she need support. Kassandra was braced to hear her mother break into wailing or shrieking, but she simply nodded gravely and bent to kiss the cold white forehead. Priam said, "The scales have been set up by a priest of Apollo Sunlord who is skilled in such things. If you would like to check the weights for yourself—"

"No, no," said Akhilles with a bizarre geniality, "I know very little of such things, my lord."

Khryse said, conducting Akhilles to the edge of the scales. "You worked against your own best interest, Prince Akhilles, when you allowed Hector's body to become so mangled; in perfect condition it would have brought you more gold." The jest seemed gross and inappropriate. Kassandra wondered, looking at Khryse's shaking hands and the over-brilliant pupils of his eyes, if he had been drinking unmixed wine, or a brew of wine and poppy-seeds so early in the day that he had forgotten in whose presence he was.

Priam turned pale and said stiffly, "Let's get on with this." He gestured, and the body of Hector was hoisted up to lie on the platform. Priam's slaves began to scoop out the gold on to the other platform, a few pieces at a time. Akhilles watched, barely smiling, as the platform bearing the body trembled and began to rise from the ground. Kassandra wondered if the other watchers found the scene as grotesque as she did.

The scale quivered and briefly, shook hard so that the bound corpse slid to one side, but it did not fall off. On the heights above Troy the wind was rising, but here below the walls the air was agonizingly still—still enough to smother breath. It occurred to Kassandra that nowhere in the city did she hear the sound of a single bird's song. Was this a part of the warning such as she had been given before? Was Poseidon about to strike? Let him strike then and end this obscenity, this travesty of decency and honor. She fixed her gaze firmly on one of the pulley ropes and would not look away. The rope trembled as she watched, and a few gold ornaments fell off; oh, come, Poseidon, is that the best you can do for Hector?

One of Priam's slaves scooped up the ornaments and replaced them. He added a heavy gold breastplate, and the platform containing the gold sagged down, now obviously outweighing the body.

Too heavy," Priam said and removed it, replacing it with a multistranded gold necklace.

"A hair too light now," said Akhilles, his eyes dwelling covetously on the breastplate. Polyxena stepped forward, pulled her long gold-wire earrings from her earlobes and flung them on the platform. The scales trembled, then stopped still, evenly balanced.

"There," she said, "it is enough. Take your gold, and go."

Akhilles looked from the gold to Polyxena, his eyes brightening as he looked.

"For the gold, a golden girl would suffice," he said. "King Priam, I will forgive you half the ransom for this woman, even if she is one of your slaves or concubines."

"I am Priam's daughter," Polyxena said, "and I serve the Maiden, who is no friend to lust even in a king or a king's son. Be content with your gold and your pledged word, Prince Akhilles, and leave us with our dead."

Akhilles clenched his lips tight, and Kassandra saw a vein throbbing in his forehead. He said between clenched teeth, "Is it so? Then will you give her to me—honorably, in lawful marriage—in return for a three days' truce to bury your son? Otherwise, the war will resume at noon—"

"No," the voice of Odysseus boomed out from among the silent ranks of Akhaian chieftains,"this is too much. Akhilles; honor your word, as you have sworn, or you will find yourself fighting me at noon. We pledged Priam three days' truce for Hector's funeral, and so it shall be."

Akhilles glowered, but said, "So be it," and raised his hand to his men. They shared out the gold in baskets, each carrying one, and marched away across the plain the same way they had come.

Kassandra did not stay to hear the planning of the funeral games, pleading duties in the temple - she must go at once and see what the serpents portended. No one else had apparently noted the touch of the hand - or the fingertip - of Poseidon. She went up quickly the long steep way toward the Sunlord's house; after a moment she was aware that Khryse was following her. Well, let him follow, he had just as much right to enter the Sunlord's house as she did herself. But he did not approach her or speak until they had passed through the great gates.

"I know what is in your mind, Princess," he said. "I felt it too. The God is angry with Troy." He looked pale and haggard, what had he been drinking so early? Something perhaps to sharpen his visions, if not his ordinary wits?

"I was not certain that I felt it," she began. "I was not sure I did not dream or imagine it."

"If you did, then I too dreamed," he said. "It is now only a question of time; how long can Apollo Sunlord delay the full fury of Poseidon's blow? I too have seen them struggling for Troy—"

Recalling her own vision, she said, "It is true. No mortal can break the walls of Troy. But if a God should breach them—"

"There is an army outside more powerful than all the might of Troy," Khryse said. "And our greatest champion awaits the funeral pyre, while they have at least three warriors greater than our best."

"Three? I grant you Akhilles, but—"

"Agamemnon, who could best Paris and Deiphobos together if he must, and Odysseus and Ajax are the equal of Hector, though neither ever bested him."

"Well," said Kassandra, wondering where this was leading, "while our walls stand it does not matter; and if it is foreordained that they must fall—well, we will meet that fate when it comes."

"I do not want to remain and see the city fall; if I were a warrior I would stay and fight, but I was never trained to use weapons and I would be no help even to defend myself—far less the ones I love. Will you come away with me, Kassandra? I do not want you to die when the city falls."

"I wish I had only death to fear."

"I mean to go to Crete in the first ship I can find, and I have heard there is a Phoenician ship standing out to sea down beyond the cove," Khryse said. "Come with me and you need fear nothing."

"Nothing, that is, but you."

"Can you never forgive me that moment of folly?" Khryse demanded. "I mean you all honor, Kassandra; I will marry you if you will, or if you are still resolved not to marry, I will swear any oath you like that we shall travel as sister and brother, and I will lay not so much as a finger's weight on you."

But I would not even trust your oath, not if you swore by your own mother's virtue, she thought, and shook her head, not unkindly.