The Women of Troy

22

Automatically, I picked up Pyrrhus’s cup and took it across to the sideboard, though I was almost totally unaware of my surroundings. Again, I saw Pyrrhus put Priam’s ring on his thumb: the destruction of Troy summed up in that one casual action. But something strange seemed to be happening: I discovered I could still feel the ring on the palm of my hand—I had held it, briefly—as if, somehow, that fleeting contact had left a permanent trace. I know it sounds trivial, but it wasn’t. Not to me. It was one of those moments that I think everybody experiences—and they don’t have to be dramatic—when things begin to change; and you know there’s no point ruminating about it, because thinking isn’t going to help you understand. You’re not ready to understand it yet; you have to live your way into the meaning.

I lit several more lamps, then stood in the middle of the room, aware that I was casting multiple shadows. It must have been about mid-evening—certainly no later—and Pyrrhus had told me something I needed to know: that Alcimus had gone to see Menelaus. Menelaus was famous for his love of good food and wine and his dinners tended to go on far into the night. So, I was free to leave the hut and go to see Amina. I took food and wine with me and also, after a moment’s thought, a lantern, because I wasn’t sure she’d have a light in the laundry hut. Probably I shouldn’t have gone—Alcimus had said the less I had to do with Amina now the better—but she was frightened and alone. I had to go.

Climbing the fence wasn’t difficult. At that stage of my pregnancy I was still reasonably agile and there was a barrel on the other side to help me down. Getting the food across was easy—I simply tucked it into my girdle—but I had to abandon the lantern and the wine. Quickly, I crossed the yard. Men rarely came into the laundry since washing clothes and laying out the dead were both women’s work. Most of the fighters probably didn’t know the yard at the back existed. I tried the door, but even putting my shoulder and hip to the job I couldn’t make it budge. Feeling sick with disappointment, I stood back. I’d been so sure this would work, that I’d be able to get in; but there was a lock and, evidently, they’d used it. Either that, or the door was hopelessly jammed.

I heard a movement from the other side of the wall and put my lips to a gap between the planks. “Amina?”

“Briseis? You shouldn’t be here.”

“I’ve brought you some food.”

“Well, thanks for the thought, but—”

“No, look, if you go along the wall to your right, about five paces…” I was trying to visualize the room as I spoke. “There ought to be a gap. Can you see it? About shoulder height.”

I heard her fingers scrape along the wall. “Yes, I see it.”

“I’ll pass you something.” Slices of cold meat and bread. I’d brought apples too, but there was no way I could get them through the gap. “Have you got enough water?”

“Gallons. There’s something soaking in it, mind.”

“Has anybody been to see you?”

“Yes, they’ve all been asking questions.”

“But they haven’t hurt you?”

“Not yet. I think Pyrrhus might come.”

“Well, look, if he does, just be honest with him…”

“Why shouldn’t I be? I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”

“You could say…Oh, I don’t know. Say you knew Priam—he was kind, and—”

“I don’t mind saying that—it’s true. Though if I’d never met Priam, I’d still have buried him.”

“And then—sorry, Amina, I know you’re not going to like this—plead with him, get down on your knees, grovel if you have to. Whatever it takes.”

“Is that what you’d do?”

“Yes, if I had to.”

“Do you really think he’ll take pity on me?”

“No, but he’s a vain man, and he’ll like the idea of being merciful—you can use that.”

“You could.” Amina sighed. “Go back to your husband, Briseis. Live. Be happy.”

“I won’t be able to bear it if you die.”

“Ah, come on, you don’t even like me!”

(Which was also true.) “At least, try to live.”

I wished I could see her face, reach out and take her hand. But there were only our two voices whispering in the darkness through a crack in a wall. It wasn’t enough. I felt her slipping away from me, sliding through my fingers like mist.

“Why do you want to die?”

“I don’t! That’s a stupid thing to say…”

From outside the yard came a burst of laughter. A group of fighters walking past.

“Because I can’t bear the thought of him touching me.”

“He hasn’t shown much sign of that…”

“No, but he could. Any time—and I wouldn’t be able to stop him. People are made differently, Briseis. Andromache can bear that. I don’t know how, but she can. I know I couldn’t.”

More shouts, more laughter. The fighters were gathering round the cooking fires, settling down to a hard night’s drinking. I couldn’t risk being seen. “I have to go.”

I wriggled my hand in between the planks as far as it would go and felt her fingertips touch mine.

“I’ll try to bring you some food in the morning,” I said.

Then I went back to my hut, wondering if I’d ever see her again.