Kassandra had never been so close to Agamemnon as this before; as always, horror and revulsion flooded her body. She stared at the ground and never raised her eyes, hoping he would not notice her.
He did not. He stared belligerently at Khryse and said, "What do you want? I am not a priest of Apollo; if you wish to arrange a festival truce or some such matter, your business is with my priests, and not with me."
Khryse stepped forward. He was taller than Agamemnon, his head imposing even with his blond hair faded, his features strongly carved. His voice, deep and strong, rang out imposingly:
"If you are Agamemnon of Mykenae, then my business is indeed with you. I am Khryse, priest of Apollo; and you are holding my daughter as a prisoner in your camp; she was taken three years ago at spring planting."
"Oh?" Agamemnon inquired. "And which of my men is holding this woman?"
"Lord Agamemnon, her name is Chryseis; and I believe it is you who is holding her. In Apollo's name I declare myself ready to pay such ransom as is suitable and customary; and if you do not wish to ransom her then I demand you pay me her bride-price and that we see her married with all proper formality."
"Oh, you do, do you?" Agamemnon said. "I wondered what you wanted, all dressed up for ceremony. Well, Khryse, priest of Apollo, listen here; I intend to keep her myself; and as for marrying her, I can't, because I've already got a wife." He gave a great sarcastic bellow of laughter.
"So I suggest you and your friends march right back inside Troy before I decide that I could use a few more women in the camp." His eyes swept across the ranks of priests and priestesses. "Most of your women seem to be too old for bedding; I seem to have the only pretty one, but we could use a few cooks and wash-women."
"You deliberately persist in this insult to Apollo Sunlord, then? You continue in this insult to his High Priest?" Khryse demanded.
Agamemnon spoke slowly, as if to a young child or a simpleton.
"Listen well, priest," he said, "I worship the Sky Thunderer Zeus, and the Earth Shaker, Poseidon, Lord of Horses. I will not meddle in the affairs of Apollo; he is not my God. But by the same token, your Apollo would be well advised not to meddle with me. This woman in my tent is mine and I will neither ransom her nor pay a bride-price; and that is all I have to say to you. Now go."
Khryse controlling his anger, replied, "And I say to you that I lay my curse on you; you are a man who has broken the sacred laws, and no child of yours shall honor your grave. And if you do not fear my curse, then fear the curse of Apollo, for it is his curse I lay upon your people, and you shall not escape it. His arrows shall fall upon you all, I so declare."
"Declare anything you like," Agamemnon said. "I have heard the rage of my foes before this, and it is of all sounds the most welcome to my heart. As for your Sunlord, I defy his curse; let him do his worst. Now get out of my camp, or I shall tell my archers to use you all for target practice."
"So be it, my lord King," said Khryse, "you shall see how long you can scorn the curse of Apollo."
One of the archers cried out, "Shall I shoot the insolent Trojan, Lord Agamemnon?"
"By no means," Agamemnon said in his rich deep voice. "He is a priest, not a warrior. I do not kill women, little boys, eunuchs, nanny-goats, or priests." The laughter from the ranks of archers robbed Khryse's exit of much of its dignity, but he strode firmly away without looking back; one by one the priests and priestesses followed him. Kassandra kept her eyes lowered, but she could feel, for some reason, Agamemnon's eyes on her. It might only be that she was the youngest of the women from Troy, almost all the other priestesses chosen being well past fifty; but perhaps it was something more. She only knew that she did not want to meet Agamemnon's glance.
And Chryseis went to this man - willingly!
They climbed through the city to the balcony of the Sunlord's house which looked down upon the plains before Troy. Khryse had disappeared briefly from among them; when he reappeared he was wearing the golden mask of the God, and bearing the ritual bow. Suddenly it appeared that he grew taller, more imposing; all the eyes of the Akhaians below were raised to where he stood. Khryse raised his bow and cried out:
"Beware, you who have offended my priest!" and Kassandra realized who stood there beneath the mask, and the voice, strong and resonant and more than human, rang throughout Troy and to the furthest corner of the Akhaian camp below.
"This is my city, Akhaians; I solemnly warn you my curse and my arrows shall strike and shall smite every man among you, if to my priest you return not the one so unlawfully taken, beware of my curse and my arrows, I warn you, you chieftains impious!"
Even Kassandra, who was familiar with the voice of the God, was paralyzed with terror. She could not have moved a muscle nor spoken a word.
Quickly the form who at once was and was not Khryse shot three arrows into the air. One of them fell directly upon the roof of Agamemnon's tent; another before the tent of Akhilles; and the third into the very center of the camp. Kassandra watched, feeling a dreadful stillness, as if she had watched all this before. It was as if she were very far away, and a thick wall of glass, or the weight of an ocean, rippled before her, cutting off what she saw and heard.
Apollo's curse! It has come upon us, O Sunlord!
Or, she thought, is this curse on the Akhaians alone?
And yet, if the Akhaians are cursed, somehow we will suffer for it; we are at their mercy. I wonder if Priam realizes that? If he does not, I am sure Hector does.
Then slowly she began to be aware again of what was going on around her; the glare of mid-day, the light reflected off city walls and the plain below, the laughter and jeers of the Akhaians. They seemed to think this a charade, a gesture; it never occurred to them that perhaps Apollo himself had cursed their people and their army.
Or did I dream it?
Whatever the truth, there were things to be done. She went to the temple and was set to the task of accepting and tallying the offerings. After an hour of counting and tallying up flasks of oil, and wheaten loaves, it felt as if she had never been away from Troy.
She worked till sunset; when she had finished with the offerings, she went to care for the serpents and to see what places had been found for them. Then she went to Charis, who was still the most senior priestess and told her that alone she could not care easily for so many snakes if she had other duties as well. She asked her to recommend a young girl to train to help her with them and learn serpent-lore. Charis asked if Phyllida would be satisfactory to her.
"Yes; she has always been my friend," Kassandra replied, and Charis sent for Phyllida and asked if it was acceptable to her.
"I will teach you everything I learned in Colchis," Kassandra promised, and Phyllida seemed pleased.
"Yes, and if we work together, our children can grow up as brother and sister," Phyllida said. "It was I who bathed your little one and gave her supper yesterday. She is very quick and clever, and some day she will be pretty too."
Kassandra suspected that Phyllida had said this to flatter her, but it did not altogether displease her. When it had all been arranged, they went out again to look down into the Akhaian camp; the glare and heat that had blinded all in the daytime was subsiding a little, and a light wind sprang up at sunset; they could see blowing dust in the Akhaian camp, and the forms of many people, some of them robed in the white robes of Apollo's servants.