Had Priam decided to send his best champions against the. Akhaians regardless of the fact that Akhilles was not with them - or in hopes of luring Akhilles forth? The thought revived her curiosity; Honey was already trying to run after the crowd, so Kassandra went down toward the wall and once there, up the stairs inside to the women's favourite observation point.

As she had expected, she found Helen, Andromache, and Creusa there with Hecuba. They all greeted her with affection. Helen, she observed, seemed less worn. Soon she confided to Kassandra that she believed she was pregnant again.

Andromache said, "I do not see how any woman could in good conscience bring a child into the world when there is this great war. I said so to Hector, but he only answered that this is when children are most needed."

"Children die when there is no war," Helen said. "I lost my second daughter to a midwife's carelessness, and three of my sons died in an earthquake. They could have fallen to their death birds-nesting on the rocks, or been trampled by an escaped bull at the Games. There is no safety for children anywhere in this mortal world, but if we all decided not to bear children because of that, where would the world be?"

"Ah, you have more courage than I," said Andromache. "Just as Paris is more daring with his chariot than Hector - look, how he races out of the great gate!"

It was hard to tell which was driving the most wildly; all five chariots exploded out of the gate almost at once, Hector's foot soldiers streaming after them. The Akhaians had not yet formed any battle lines. Kassandra saw the chaos and disorder of the Argive camp as the troops sprang out between their tents, yelling, searching for weapons. The line of chariots thundered down on the camp, and on through. Now she saw that each chariot bore a brazier of coals and something else - tar? pitch? - and an archer swiftly preparing arrows by dipping them into the blazing stuff, and shooting at the lines of ships which lined the harbor beyond the camp. For a few minutes, while trying to bring down the chariots, the Akhaians did not see the objective of the attack; then a great cry of rage rang out, but by this time the chariots were actually on the beach and several of the ships already ablaze.

Hector's foot soldiers were well organized, attacking the still-surprised troops of Agamemnon.

Ship after ship, each with a blazing arrow in the folds of the furled sails, took fire, with sailors unready to fight the flames jumping overboard and adding to the confusion. Now Hector's men turned their attention from the ships to the army's tents. There were screams, and immense confusion all through the camp as men tried half-heartedly to organize ways of fighting the inferno, and tending the wounded. One of the ships (she heard later it had a cargo of oil) had already burned to the waterline and sank. A great cheer went up from Hector's men.

The Trojan chariots were surrounded now by Akhaian foot soldiers trying to pull the riders down; but the archers continued to shoot their fire-arrows into the tents until the women on the wall could not see into the Akhaian camp at all through the smoke. Another ship sagged and settled down into the harbor, the flames subsiding in the waters.

The women cheered; then there was a commotion among the guards along the wall, and Trojan soldiers ran past them to a vantage point where some archers were stationed. There were loud yells, a combination of cheers and jeering cries, and a great crash. When the captain of archers came back, Andromache asked what had happened. Saluting her respectfully, he said, "At first we thought it was Akhilles himself and that he'd picked this time for a diversion. "Twasn't him, though; it was that friend of his - what's his name—Patroklos; climbed right up the west wall where there are stones loose from the earthquake."

"Did you get him?" Andromache asked.

"No chance, Lady; we sent a good few arrows whizzing round his head, though, and he lost his balance and slid down. Then his archers returned our fire and covered him while he showed us a good pair of legs back to their camp," the soldier replied. "Shame we missed him; if he'd wound up with an arrow through his gullet, maybe Akhilles would get discouraged and take off home."

"Never mind," Andromache said. "You did the best you could; and at least he didn't get into the city."

"Begging your pardon, Lady, best we could won't be good enough for Prince Hector," said the soldier pessimistically. "But I reckon you're right, nothing to do about it now, and no use worrying about what we can't mend. Maybe he'll give us another chance some day and we'll pick him off."

"May the War-God grant it," said Andromache. The women looked out over the wall again; the chariots had withdrawn now from the Greek camp and were racing back toward the gates of Troy; Kassandra, though she could not at this distance distinguish one chariot from another, counted them and noted they were all there. The raid on the ships, then, had been a total success.

Below them the watchman shouted, "Ready there to open the gates!" and they heard the creaking of the ropes that opened the great gate. Helen and Andromache went down the stairs to greet their husbands; the other women remained behind.

Hecuba approached Kassandra who asked, "The King was not with the chariots?"

"Oh, no, Kassandra," said her mother. "His hands no longer serve him to drive. The healer-priests have treated him with their healing oils and spells, but every day it grows worse. He can hardly tie the laces of his sandals."

"I am sorry to hear it," Kassandra said, "but for old age, Mother, there are no healing spells, even for a King."

"Nor, I suppose, for a Queen," Hecuba said, and Kassandra, looking sharply at her, realized how frail her mother was, her back stooped and so thin that her bones seemed to protrude from the skin. Her complexion had always seemed fresh and bright; now it was greyish and sallow, and her hair a dirty streaked yellowish-white. Even her eyes seemed to have faded.

"You are not well, Mother."

"Well enough; I am much more troubled about your father," Hecuba said. "And Creusa; she is pregnant again, and there is likely to be a scarcity of nourishing food in the city this winter. The crops were not good, and the Akhaians burnt so much of what there was."

"There is food enough in the Sunlord's house," Kassandra said. "What is shared out for me and for Honey is always more than we can eat; I will try and see that Creusa has enough."

"You are good," Hecuba said gently, reaching out to stroke her hair; her mother had rarely caressed her since she was a very small child, and Kassandra felt warmed.

"We have not only food but healing herbs in plenty; you must always come to me if anyone at the palace is ill or in want," she said. "It is taken for granted that we shall share what we have with our families. I will send some herbs for Father; and you must steep them in hot water, and soak a cloth, and apply the hot cloths to his hands. It may not cure him, but it will ease his pain."

Hecuba looked past her to Honey, who was sitting on the wall, playing with some pebbles. Kassandra remembered a similar game when she was very small; she and her sisters, the other daughters of the royal house, would choose nice round little stones and set them in niches on the wall to bake, as if they were buns or loaves, examining them every few minutes to see if they were cooked enough. She smiled at the memory.

The chariots were inside the walls now and the gates closing. Hecuba asked, "Will you come and dine at the palace? Though you will surely be better fed in the Sunlord's house…'

"I think not tonight," Kassandra said,"though I thank you; I will send the herbs down by a messenger. I hope they do Father good - we cannot spare his strength in these days. Not even Hector is fit to rule Troy, even if he should survive his father." She stopped herself, but Hecuba had heard and stared at her in shock.