"Not I," said Poseidon. "Not till the time ordained has come. I know better than to conspire with a woman against the will of her husband."

Thunder flashed as Hera stamped her foot and cried out, "You will regret this!" But Poseidon had taken the form of a great white stallion and galloped away along the shore; the pounding of his hooves sounded like the crash of waves along the sea-wall the Akhaians had built.

Kassandra woke in dread, hearing the sound of Poseidon's rage, wondering if it presaged another earthquake, but all was quiet in the temple, and at last she slept again. In the morning she found that a few vases and dishes had fallen from tables and shelves, and a lamp had overturned, but had burned itself out on the stone floor without setting anything arise; if there had been an earthquake it had been a very small one, hardly more than a shrug of the God's shoulders. The Immortals seemed to have the same unresolved squabbles as those inconclusive duels between the soldiers, which settled nothing. Well, they—the soldiers—were only human and could hardly be blamed for behaving foolishly; but Kassandra would have thought the Gods would have something better to do.

She resolved that this day she would stay away from the city wall; she had seen enough of these duels and she supposed with Akhilles still hiding in his tent, there would be nothing happening yet again. It was surprising, she thought, how much time she had wasted of late gossiping with the other women watching from the walls.

Honey was outgrowing her frocks; Kassandra spent the morning looking through her own possessions and inquiring of the priestesses; perhaps there would be something suitable among the offerings that she could use to make her daughter some clothes. She was given a piece of saffron-dyed material, which she thought would look pretty with the little girl's dark curls and lively dark eyes, from which she could fashion a gown and kerchief. The child would still need sandals; she was running everywhere now, and after the big earthquake the courts were full of rubbish on which she could hurt her feet. She started to call a servant to go to the market to fetch leather for sandals, then decided to go herself and take the child.

Honey was big enough now to scamper along beside her, and to understand that she was to have sandals like a big girl; Kassandra enjoyed the feeling of the small fat hand in hers. Sagely she examined the sandals displayed for sale; the prices were not, it seemed, exorbitant. She arranged to try a sturdy pair on the child and finding them well built and satisfactorily fitting the little feet, allowed Honey to choose which pattern she liked best.

"And for you, Lady?" the sandal-maker asked. By habit Kassandra started to say no, then followed the man's gaze to her feet. Her sandals were much worn, thinning at the sole, and one strap mended and re-mended. Well, after all, she had worn them to Colchis and back.

"Well, these sandals have been halfway round the world; I suppose they deserve to be honorably put out to pasture like an old mare," she said, and allowed him to show her several pairs, all of which were too large. At last he measured her foot and said, "The Lady has such a little foot; I must make a pair to your measure."

"I did not design my own foot," Kassandra said, "but if you will make me a pair by this pattern—" she indicated the most nearly fitting of the sandals he had shown her,"that will do nicely. Meanwhile I suppose you can simply mend the strap of these yet again."

"I don't think it will hold together; it has been sewn so often," he protested. "If the lady will be content to wait in my humble shop but half an hour, the new ones will be ready. May I send for a glass of wine for you? A slice of melon? Some other refreshment? No? Something for the child?"

"No, thank you," Kassandra said; Honey too must learn to wait patiently when necessary. She stood watching the man trimming the soles of the sandals which had been just a little too large, re-positioning the straps and stitching them with his thimble and heavy leather needle. He had an iron needle, which, she thought, must be why he did such fast work; bronze needles could not pierce the leather so readily. She wondered whether he had it smuggled in past the blockade, or whether he traded with the Akhaians. It was probably better not to know. Such commerce was forbidden; but if Priam's city wardens thrust everyone into prison who traded illegally there would be no trading at all and commerce in the city would come completely to a halt.

Already many foodstuffs were hard to come by after the long siege; what had saved the city were the gardens inside the walls, where grapes and olive trees were the sources of wine and oil, and vegetables could be grown. Many houses had caged doves or rabbits, previously kept for sacrifice; now these were eaten, and kept away the most acute hunger. Bread was in short supply except for the soldiers' mess and the palace, though some wagons of grain had been brought in overland, avoiding the Argive ships, during the truce.

Now that the truce was officially over, would it mean a tightening of the siege? Or would the Akhaians get tired of fighting without Akhilles, and go away again? That might be the best that could happen.

But if they felt they had the Gods on their side—and there she broke off in the old confusion; why should the Gods meddle in men's affairs? Well, Hector's answer had been simply: Why not? Anyway, she had been asking that same question since the beginning of the war, and she had had no answer - except in her dreams. Dreams! what good were they?

Yet her dreams had sent her warning of the great earthquake; she should then trust them. Anyhow, she had no choice. The dreams were there; she ignored them at her own peril—and for all she knew, the peril of Troy and her world.

She had drifted into reverie when she heard a great commotion in the streets; Hector's chariot raced down through the city toward the lower gates. To Kassandra, watching from her bench inside the sandal-maker's shop, it seemed that half the population of Troy emptied itself into the streets to watch. After so long, one would think they would take it for granted and go on about their business. But there seemed as much enthusiasm evident as on the first day he had paraded before his troops. Well, that was nice for Hector, she thought, not entirely without sarcasm, and would have turned away; but the sandal-maker brought her new sandals and stood watching Hector's chariot instead of helping her put them on.

"He drives his chariot like the very Battle-God himself," he remarked. "Princess, he is your brother?"

"Yes; the son of both my mother and my father," she replied.

"Tell me, what is he like? Is he truly as much a hero as he seems?"

"He is certainly brave and a valorous fighter," she said. But was it bravery or simply a lack of imagination? Paris could simulate bravery but only because he feared being thought a coward more than whatever else it was that he feared. "But more than that," she said, "Hector is a good man, apart from being a good fighter. He has other virtues than bravery." The man looked a little startled, as if he could not imagine any other virtues. "I mean he would be worthy to admire even if there were no war."

And that, she thought, could hardly be said of any of her other brothers; they seemed little more than animate weapons without much thought for what they were doing or why. Paris had some good qualities - although he seldom showed them to a sister - he was kind to Helen, showed kindness as well as respect to his aging parents, and had been a loving father to his children while they lived. He was kind even to Helen's son by Menelaus.

Aeneas, too, had this kind of character - or do I think so only because I love him? she asked herself. The sandal-maker still lauding Hector's attributes, Kassandra said, "He will be pleased to know that he is so well thought of in the city," (which certainly was true) paid for her purchases and stepped out into the street. She immediately had to snatch Honey out from under the feet of the crowds blocking the way and surging back from the street where four chariots driven by Aeneas, Paris, Deiphobos, and the Thracian captain Glaucus were thundering down in the wake of Hector's toward the great gate.