Titania has the worst luck of the ancient world. First, her brother steals the Queen of Sparta and leaves her behind to deal with it, and then she's taken prisoner and forced to watch as 1000 ships sail to destroy her beloved city: Troy.
The worst...
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They couldn't even lie once they had woken in the tent. The priest had seen the mark on Iphigeneia's thumb.
Titania remembered watching Agamemnon as he thought about his choice. She remembered his gaze dropping to the floor and his mouth dropping open as he babbled incoherently, before his gaze rose to meet the eyes of his compatriots who were eager to plunder. She remembered the single tear dropping from his eye.
But he allowed the priest to drag her away.
Titania did not cry then. She'd known Iphigeneia for a single afternoon. The girl was a stranger, yet still they had shared a burden together. They shared the burden of being women, the burden of patriarchy. Now she would die for that same system. The system of war.
As they dragged her away, Titania was reminded of what the Princess of Mycenae predicted had women ruled the world. I think there'll be less wars.
Agamemnon didn't even have the strength to do it himself. They all watched as he stood to the side whilst the priest raised his knife to the neck of a struggling Iphigeneia and spilled her blood over the fires before tossing her body into them. The winds calmed. The sun rose. They would sail on the hour.
She walked with an army of red-garbed Spartans to the docks where her escort awaited her. The men seemed proud today, proud of the King who'd obeyed the will of the gods. Titania sneered silently. Gods demanded prices for wars, but it is men who demand wars themselves. Perhaps Agamemnon would blame the gods, but Titania knew better. He killed his daughter; Artemis was simply the facilitator. Their king was a murderer.
"Achilles of the Myrmidons, King Agamemnon sends his best," the leader of the guard troupe announced. Achilles' ship was smaller than the few that surrounded her, but his men were certainly the most powerful. She watched as the most brutish men she'd ever seen halted in their preparations to face them, many of them scarred on their faces and arms. They all wore black armor, matching the black sail, and had scruffy beards with sneering faces hidden between the hair of their heads and eyes and chin. The Myrmidons were a forceful people, hardly ever defeated in battle – just like Achilles himself. Despite his reputation, she suspected their leader would be, well, a lord. He would believe in hierarchy, and happily drink his wine as his men worked. She expected him to greet them from his place in a large, over-stuffed chair with men fanning away his sweat, as was the case with many of the kings they had passed.
To her surprise, he greeted them with a large crate his in arms.
"Clearly he sends not only his best." Achilles was no barbarian. He was smaller than she expected. He had no beard, only a chiseled chin and a tanned face framed by locks of blond hair. He had a smirk that Titania recognized from her own brother, the very brother that had seduced the queen of Sparta. She hated to admit it, but he was handsome.
"His lordship bids you charge over Princess Titania of Troy. She is to arrive in Troy unharmed, and be used for bargaining with King Priam and Queen Hecuba."
