Read Online The Princess of Sparta: Heroes of the Trojan War by Aria Cunningham - Free Book Online
Authors: Aria Cunningham
Tags: Historical Romance
Ads: Link
more pitiful sound. They led the beast to an altar beside the central hearth.
Tyndareus stepped down from the throne, unsheathing his ornate short sword. “Come all who would be my son. Come and swear this sacred oath. To defend and protect he who is chosen like a brother of your blood. Swear to defend him against any wrong done to him in regard to this union. Swear by the blood of this sacrifice, and share in the protection of Artemis and Her Almighty Father.”
He sliced open the heifer’s neck, a crimson tide of blood spilling into a bronze urn at his feet.
“I will swear that oath,” Diomedes declared, stepping boldly beside Tyndareus and thrusting his hand into the flowing blood.
“As will I!” Protesilaus joined them. Then Patroclus, and Achilles and Ajax. Even Odysseus, caught up in the moment, joined his peers.
Tyndareus studied them all, counting to ensure there was none unaccounted. And then Agamemnon stepped forward, his mighty fist thrust between the others. Helen turned in alarm to her sister who seemed as shocked as she.
“Don’t be greedy, Agamemnon.” Diomedes teased. “You already have a wife to warm your bed.”
“I assure you brothers, one daughter of Sparta is enough for me.” He announced to great laughter while Clytemnestra blushed. “I stand for my brother Menelaus, who, by no fault of his own, was left behind to tend to affairs of state.”
There were forty men, Agamemnon included, who so swore. Helen watched in disbelief as they commingled their bloody hands into an enormous fist.
“All hail the Oath of Tyndareus!” Odysseus proclaimed, his voice ringing out the pact with great finality.
“THE OATH OF TYNDAREUS!” the others shouted in unison.
The voice in her head told Helen this was a momentous event. The men of the Hellas had never made an oath of unity. But here they stood, the mightiest warrior kings of the western world, hands locked in purpose. And she was that purpose! Should some ill fate befall her, all of Greece would unite in her defense. Tyndareus had achieved the impossible, and he had done so in her honor.
But that voice also whispered other words, bitter words her sister had confided just one night ago. It was not respect for Sparta that created this moment, but hubris and ego. Sadly, she understood why her father’s oath was necessary.
“Helen,” Tyndareus startled her from her reflections. “Lay your crown at the foot of your chosen.”
“The choice is mine?” She was so stunned she forgot to address him properly. He smiled at her slip.
“Choose wisely.”
She removed her crown of flowers with a shaky hand, her eyes darting over the men eagerly awaiting her decision. The hunger was written in their faces. They wanted her body, but there was something more. Violent streaks of crimson blood ran down their arms. Red was the color of conquest, of victory. She was nothing but a prize to them. And her choice would elevate the victor over his brothers.
Again she turned to Clytemnestra. Standing alone now, her sister had a sad look on her face. Helen’s heart flooded with remorse, remembering the day Nestra left their home for Mycenae. They were losing each other again as sure as they had three years hence.
But it didn’t have to be. The choice was right before her.
Follow your heart .
Clytemnestra locked eyes with her and Helen knew what she must do. She stepped forward boldly and placed her crown at Agamemnon’s feet. Menelaus, the man she had never met, would be her husband.
The room erupted in cheers. The Mycenaean king seemed utterly surprised by her choice. Cries of “Huzzah!” rang out while his peers congratulated him. Helen was all but ignored. She worked her way over to her sister, happy to join Nestra in the shadows.
Helen finally understood what the Goddess was trying to tell her. Her great love, the other half of her separated soul was right in front of her. Where Clytemnestra went, Helen knew she must follow. She reached out to
Tyndareus stepped down from the throne, unsheathing his ornate short sword. “Come all who would be my son. Come and swear this sacred oath. To defend and protect he who is chosen like a brother of your blood. Swear to defend him against any wrong done to him in regard to this union. Swear by the blood of this sacrifice, and share in the protection of Artemis and Her Almighty Father.”
He sliced open the heifer’s neck, a crimson tide of blood spilling into a bronze urn at his feet.
“I will swear that oath,” Diomedes declared, stepping boldly beside Tyndareus and thrusting his hand into the flowing blood.
“As will I!” Protesilaus joined them. Then Patroclus, and Achilles and Ajax. Even Odysseus, caught up in the moment, joined his peers.
Tyndareus studied them all, counting to ensure there was none unaccounted. And then Agamemnon stepped forward, his mighty fist thrust between the others. Helen turned in alarm to her sister who seemed as shocked as she.
“Don’t be greedy, Agamemnon.” Diomedes teased. “You already have a wife to warm your bed.”
“I assure you brothers, one daughter of Sparta is enough for me.” He announced to great laughter while Clytemnestra blushed. “I stand for my brother Menelaus, who, by no fault of his own, was left behind to tend to affairs of state.”
There were forty men, Agamemnon included, who so swore. Helen watched in disbelief as they commingled their bloody hands into an enormous fist.
“All hail the Oath of Tyndareus!” Odysseus proclaimed, his voice ringing out the pact with great finality.
“THE OATH OF TYNDAREUS!” the others shouted in unison.
The voice in her head told Helen this was a momentous event. The men of the Hellas had never made an oath of unity. But here they stood, the mightiest warrior kings of the western world, hands locked in purpose. And she was that purpose! Should some ill fate befall her, all of Greece would unite in her defense. Tyndareus had achieved the impossible, and he had done so in her honor.
But that voice also whispered other words, bitter words her sister had confided just one night ago. It was not respect for Sparta that created this moment, but hubris and ego. Sadly, she understood why her father’s oath was necessary.
“Helen,” Tyndareus startled her from her reflections. “Lay your crown at the foot of your chosen.”
“The choice is mine?” She was so stunned she forgot to address him properly. He smiled at her slip.
“Choose wisely.”
She removed her crown of flowers with a shaky hand, her eyes darting over the men eagerly awaiting her decision. The hunger was written in their faces. They wanted her body, but there was something more. Violent streaks of crimson blood ran down their arms. Red was the color of conquest, of victory. She was nothing but a prize to them. And her choice would elevate the victor over his brothers.
Again she turned to Clytemnestra. Standing alone now, her sister had a sad look on her face. Helen’s heart flooded with remorse, remembering the day Nestra left their home for Mycenae. They were losing each other again as sure as they had three years hence.
But it didn’t have to be. The choice was right before her.
Follow your heart .
Clytemnestra locked eyes with her and Helen knew what she must do. She stepped forward boldly and placed her crown at Agamemnon’s feet. Menelaus, the man she had never met, would be her husband.
The room erupted in cheers. The Mycenaean king seemed utterly surprised by her choice. Cries of “Huzzah!” rang out while his peers congratulated him. Helen was all but ignored. She worked her way over to her sister, happy to join Nestra in the shadows.
Helen finally understood what the Goddess was trying to tell her. Her great love, the other half of her separated soul was right in front of her. Where Clytemnestra went, Helen knew she must follow. She reached out to
Similar Books
