Page 51 of Odette's Vow

The permission to speak was a nice touch.

“Speak.” I wanted to know how she could think to get away with such actions.

“This man did not seek to aid you. He sought to take from you what is rightfully yours. He wanted treasure that you had fought and died for, while he had stayed away from the war, as cowards do. He has taken from the Trojan hand and now looks to take from yours, too. He has already confessed to killing my son, and I do not doubt that was so he could keep the treasure we gave him for safe harbour. He would do it to you, I am sure of it. For he said to his sons when he was in this tent that they could both take the other slave at once, while he had his way with me. And if a king does not respect another king’s slaves as property, then what of your gold or other worldly goods?”

Something dark and sinister curled in my gut at the mention of Odette being defiled by his two brutish sons at the same time.

“She lies!”

“What good does it do me to lie now? I am already a slave. Whether I am bound to one master or another, it does not matter.”

King Agamemnon looked to me. “Well, they are your slaves, Odysseus. What say you?”

“Murder,” I replied quietly.

I felt Hecuba still in my arms.

“I say King Polymestor committed murder, and the former Queen of Troy’s retribution was just.”

Agamemnon took a moment to pretend like his pea-sized brain was weighing up the merits of the case, but I knew who he would side with. I had won him the war.

“Murder it is. Guards – come and seize this man! We will take his ship for our own, and the goods he would have taken from us on it.”

“No, no, no, you can’t! You CAN’T!” Polymestor screamed. “If you do, if you do, I’ll?—”

“Silence!” Agamemnon commanded, booting him in the stomach for good measure.

There was an ‘oof’ and a crack, as Agamemnon’s foot made contact with a lower rib.

“You can’t do this, you can’t believe her over me, she’s just a slave now, she’s just?—”

I didn’t hear the rest as Agamemnon’s guards dragged him out.

“What do you want to do with his sons’ bodies?” the young doctor asked us.

“I’ll get some of the young men to perform their burial rites,” I told him and Agamemnon.

They both nodded in agreement, and that was that.

Exiting the tent together, we watched Agamemnon summon the rest of his guard to follow him back to Polymestor’s ship. The men had barely begun walking when, to everyone’s surprise, Cassandra – coiled to that leash though she was – pulled away, not towards her mother Hecuba, but to Odette. She began talking in low, feverish tones as she gripped Odette’s arms and spoke in the old Trojan language to her. Her eyes were wide, desperate, as if she were telling Odette something of vital importance. She stopped only once in her monologue, until Odette nodded, and began again.

Agamemnon, realising his men hadn’t followed after he’d taken a dozen or so strides, turned back. He marched towards Cassandra.

“What is with the women today?” he grumbled, tugging at her.

But, Cassandra was as immovable as a marble statue. She held firm, as if Agamemnon was not a fully grown man tugging at her but a mere bug on her shoulder. She continued saying something to Odette that I could not understand. Even if I’dhad the language, the speed at which she talked was so rapid, I wondered if Odette was keeping up.

Eventually, Cassandra stopped to take a breath, and the trance was broken. Seeming to slump into herself, Cassandra finally gave in to Agamemnon’s tug. With a sharp comical yank, they both nearly fell over at the sheer force. All the men chose to wisely bite their tongues at Agamemnon’s huffing, and the entourage left.

“What did she say to you?” I asked Odette, but she refused to answer. “It wasn’t a question, spear-wife.” I used the title with deliberate weight, meant for the ears of those around us.

At that, her head snapped up at me before she shook it. “Nothing I could understand.”

I swung Hecuba around to face me. “Did you understand your daughter’s words?”

For the first time, I saw kindness in Hecuba’s eyes. “It is Cassandra’s plight to be deliberately misunderstood. Even if I could translate it, her words would make no sense – to you, to me, or to anyone else.”

“But why would she deliberately seek out Odette to speak to? Why not to you, her own mother?”

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