Troy: Fall of Kings

Farewell to the Queen

Helikaon stood at the stern of the Xanthos, staring back at the burning fleet. He felt no satisfaction as the flames lit the night sky. Removing his helm of bronze, he leaned against the stern rail and turned his gaze toward the east. Fires also were burning in the distant fortress of Dardanos, and the Xanthos headed slowly back toward them.

The breeze was cool upon his face as he stood alone. No one approached him. Even the sailor at the great steering oar kept his gaze firmly fixed to the east. The eighty oars of the great vessel slid rhythmically into the night-dark water, the sound as regular as heartbeat.

Halysia was dead. The queen of Dardania was dead. His wife was dead.

And his heart was a ruin.

He and Gershom had climbed the steep cliff to where her body lay, little Dex snuggled up beside her, the black stallion waiting close by. Helikaon had run to her, kneeling and lifting her into his arms. There had been a savage wound in her side, and the ground around her had been slick with blood. Her head had flopped back, her golden hair hanging loose.

Dex had cried out, "Papa!" and he had hugged the three-year-old to him. "We must be very quiet," Dex whispered. "Sun Woman is sleeping." Gershom lifted the boy into his arms.

"We jumped over it," Dex said excitedly, pointing to the chasm and the burned bridge. "We ran away from the bad men."

Helikaon cradled Halysia to him. Her eyes opened then, and she smiled up at him. "I knew . . . you would come," she said.

"I am here. Rest. We will get you back to the palace and staunch your wounds."

Her face was pale. "I am so tired," she told him, and his vision misted as tears formed.

"I love you," he whispered.

She sighed then. "Such a . . . sweet lie," she said.

She spoke no more, nor ever would, and he knelt there, holding her close.

Across the chasm the sounds of battle grew closer. He did not look up. Hektor and the Trojan Horse had driven the Mykene along the defile toward Parnio's Folly, and there the enemy had made its last stand.

But Helikaon did not care. He stroked his fingers through Halysia's golden hair and looked down into her dead eyes. Other men came climbing the cliff. They stood around him silently. At last he closed Halysia's eyes.

He gave orders for her body to be carried back to the fortress, then slowly made his way to meet Hektor.

"There is still some fighting to the northeast," Hektor told him. "The enemy general tried to battle his way to the coast. We have them penned."

Helikaon nodded.

"We took a few prisoners," Hektor said. "One told us Agamemnon and a war fleet are on Imbros. I don't think we can hold here if they come. The Seagate is ruined, and my men are weary."

"I will deal with them," Helikaon said coldly. "You finish the resistance here."

Calling his men, he had returned to the Xanthos and set sail into the night. He had expected to face battle with a screen of war galleys protecting the main fleet, but the Mykene, with the arrogance of conquerors, believing themselves safe from attack, had beached their entire fleet on Imbros for the night.

It was a mistake Agamemnon would rue.

The Xanthos sailed serenely on, the burning fleet lighting the sky behind the great ship, the screams of the dying like the cries of distant gulls. The weight of guilt settled on Helikaon as he stood alone, and he remembered his last conversation with Halysia the previous spring. He had been preparing to raid along the Mykene coastline, and she had walked with him down to the beach.

"Be safe and come home to me," she said as they stood together in the shadow of the Xanthos.

"I will."

"And know as you journey that I love you," she told him.

The words surprised him, for she never had said them before. He stood there in the dawn light like a fool, not knowing how to respond. Their marriage had been, as all royal weddings were, a union of necessity.

She laughed at his confusion. "Is the Golden One speechless?" she asked.

"I am," he admitted. Then he kissed her hand. "It is an honor to be loved by you, Halysia. I mean that with all my heart."

She nodded. "I know that we do not choose who to love," she said. "And I know--I have always known--that you yearn for someone else. I am sorry for that. I am sorry for you. But I have tried, and I will continue to try, to bring you happiness. If it is just a portion of the happiness you have brought me, then you will be content. I know this."

"I am already content. No man could have a finer wife."

With that he kissed her, then climbed aboard the warship.

"Such a . . . sweet lie."

Memories cut into him like talons of fire.

He saw black-bearded Gershom walking down the central deck. The big Egypteian climbed the steps to the stern. "She was a great woman. Fine and brave. That was a mighty leap across that chasm. She saved her son."