Helen of Sparta Read Online Free PDF

screaming women and crying children, running through th e streets.
    “Helen,” he murmurs, as though we are lovers . “Helen.”
    “No.” I shove at his chest, but he does not move. “No! They’re dying! Can’t you see? Everyone will die!”
    “Helen?” This time the voice is louder, no longer a whisper of passion. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and try to knock it away. I have to get free. I have to hide. Ajax will find me. And then Agamemnon—
    “Helen, wake up.”
    My eyes flew open, and I screamed at the shape leaning over me. A hand clapped over my mouth, half suffocating me, with a hissed plea for quiet. The form bent closer, and I struggled to free myself, biting the hand and digging my nails into the arm behind it.
    “Hel en, stop!”
    I stilled at once, blinking. My vision cleared as the tears slipped down my cheeks, and I could see Menelaus’s face, the red of his hair shining copper in the moonlight. He sat on the edge o f the bed.
    “It was just a dream,” he murmured.
    He waited another moment after I quieted, then removed his hand from my mouth. I stared at him, my heart racing, and pulled the blanket up over my chest.
    He brushed the moisture from my cheeks. “I didn’t mean to frig hten you.”
    “What—” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. I must have been screaming in my sleep. The noise of the banquet floated through my window, drunk men laughing and singing and stumbling through the courtyard. “What are you do ing here?”
    “I heard you crying from below. You sounded t errified.”
    “You shouldn’t be here.” I sat up with the realization. Clytemnestra? No, she was not back yet, or she would be shrieking now. But she could return at any time. And Leda. She might check on me, to be sure I was still in my room after what I had d one today.
    “Shh,” he said, pressing me back. His breath smelled of wine. “Your mother is still at the banquet.” He snorted. “And Nestra is so busy flirting with your father’s guests, I think she’ll forget to sleep tonight. I have never seen a woman her age so desperate for a husband.”
    “Please, you cannot be here. If Leda finds out, she will have me whipped.”
    “If Leda finds out, she will have you married. And how is it, Helen, that Nestra, in everything your junior, has become a woman when you have not?”
    I froze at his words. Was that why he was here? To claim me? The wine had certainly given him courage, to bring him through my window in the middle of the night. But he was right. Better to have me married than dishonored. Leda would make me his bride if she found him here, even if he had not touched me. My hands closed into fists in t he linens.
    “I think you had too much to drink at the banquet, Menelaus.”
    He stroked my hair, winding his fingers through it. “I could not listen to you cry and do nothing. What do you dream of that upsets you so? Your brother refuses to speak of it at all now, and Nestra will only say that you weep.”
    I closed my eyes and turned my face away. “It doesn’ t matter.”
    “You never kept secrets from me before.” His hand fell away from my face. “I wish I knew what I had done to lose your trust. To lose your friendship, after all this time. Have I not always treated you kindly? Have I not always kept my word to you in ev erything?”
    The pain in his voice cut through my heart, and I caught his hand. Sword work and spear throwing had calloused his palms, and he wore a heavy ring now, on his thumb. My fingers brushed over it, imagining the lion carved into the gold, the mark of a true prince o f Mycenae.
    “Leda says I must remain distant from my suitors.” It was the only excuse I could give him, and I clung to it. “I must trust my father to choose the best man fo r Sparta.”
    “And you think I am you r suitor?”
    “Ar en’t you?”
    “Oh, Helen.” He raised my hand to his face, pressing it to his lips, then his cheek, roughened with stubble. The moonlight washed the