Deathly silence hungover Troy all the next day; and over the Akhaian camp. At mid-afternoon Kassandra went down to the city wall; she could see into the camp and as far as the beach full of ships from the high edge of the wall of the Sunlord's house, but she could not hear anything or tell what was happening.

Andromache was there with Hector and others of Priam's household. They welcomed Kassandra and made room for her where she could see what was happening. "This would be the best time to attack them and burn the rest of their ships," Andromache suggested, but at Hector's fierce look she drew back.

"I was joking, my love; I know you are incapable of breaking a truce," she said.

"'They did," Paris reminded them. "If I had been killed and we were giving them a truce for my burial, do you really think they would not storm us at the very height of the feast? Odysseus and Agamemnon are probably urging them right now to make an attack when we least expect it."

"The camp looks almost deserted," Kassandra said. "What are they doing?"

"Who knows?" Paris said. "Who cares?"

"I know," Hector said. "The priests are laying out Patroklos's body for burial or burning; Akhilles is mourning and weeping; Agamemnon and Menelaus are plotting some way to break the truce; Odysseus is trying to keep them from fighting loudly enough for us to hear; the Myrmidons are setting up for the Games tomorrow - and the rest of the army is getting drunk."

"How do you know that, Father?" asked Astyanax.

Hector said, laughing, "It's what we would be doing if the shoe were on the other foot."

At this moment a young messenger, in the dress of a novice priest of Apollo, came up inside the wall.

"Your pardon, nobles; a message for the Princess Kassandra," he said, and Kassandra frowned. Had one of the serpents bitten someone, or one of the children fallen into a fever? She could think of no other reason she should be summoned. Her temple duties for the day, never very pressing, had been performed and she had been given leave to absent herself.

"I am here," she said, "what is wanted?"

"Lady, guests have arrived at the Sunlord's house; they came by the mountains to avoid the Akhaian blockade, and they seek you. They say the matter is of very great urgency and cannot be delayed."

Puzzled, Kassandra bowed to her father and withdrew. As she climbed to the temple, she wondered who it might be, and why they should seek her out. She went into the room where visitors were entertained; in the darkness of the room after the sun the strangers were only a half dozen indistinct forms.

One among them rose and came toward her, opening her arms.

"It rejoices my heart to see you, child," she said, and Kassandra, her eyes adapting to the dimness of the room, looked into the face of the Amazon Penthesilea.

Kassandra fell into her enthusiastic embrace.

"Oh, how glad I am to see you all! When I came from Colchis there was no sign of you, and I believed you were all dead!" she cried.

"Yes, I heard you had been seeking us; but we had gone to the Islands, seeking help and perhaps a new home country," Penthesilea said. "We found it not, so we returned, and I had no way to send word to you."

"But what are you doing here? How many of you are here?"

"I brought with me all of us who remain and who have not chosen to go and live in cities under the rule of men. We have come to defend Troy against her enemies," Penthesilea said. "Priam told me once, many years ago, that before he would send to women to help in the defense of his city, Troy would indeed be fallen on evil times. Perhaps by now I know better than he how evil is the case in which Troy finds itself."

"I do not know if my father would agree with you," Kassandra said. "The army is rejoicing because Hector has just killed the second most dangerous fighter in the Akhaian army."

"Aye; they told me in the Sunlord's house," Penthesilea said. "But I do not think Troy any the nearer safety because Patroklos lies dead."

"Kinswoman," Kassandra said gravely, "Troy will fall, but not to the hand of any man. Do you think then that we can contend with the hand of a God?"

Penthesilea smiled in her old way and said, "It is not the destruction of the walls which we need fear, but the destruction of our defenses; Troy could be defeated and sacked, and if it is the will of the powers above that this should happen—" She broke off and held out her arms to Kassandra, who went into them like the child she had been.

"My poor child, how long have you been alone with this? Is there no one in Troy, soldier or king or priest, to trust your Sight?" she asked, holding her like a child against her meager old breast. "None of your kinsmen or brothers? Not even your father?"

"They least of all," Kassandra murmured. "It angers them when I even speak doom for Troy. They do not want to hear. And perhaps, if I can offer no way to avert this fate, but can only say it must come… perhaps they are right not to dwell on it."

"But to make you suffer all this alone—" Penthesilea began, then broke off and sighed.

"But I should present myself with my warriors to Priam, and greet your mother, my sister."

"I will take you to the palace that he may welcome you," said Kassandra.

The old Amazon chuckled. "He will not welcome me, my darling, and the more desperately he needs the righting skills of my women, the less welcome I will be," she said. "The best I can hope for is that he will not refuse us; perhaps I have waited late enough that he will know how badly he is in need of even a few good warriors. Mine number twenty-four."

"You know as well as I that Troy cannot afford to spurn any help from any source whatever, even had you brought an army of Kentaurs," Kassandra said.

Penthesilea sighed and shook her head. "There will never be such an army again," she said sadly. "The last of their warriors are gone; we took in half a dozen of their youngest boy children, after their horses died. Now villagers scratching the ground for a harvest of barley and turnips pasture their goats and swine where once the herds of Kentaurs roamed with their horses; our mares too are perished, save these last pitiful few. There are few horses now on the plains near Troy, I see. The wild herds have been captured by the Akhaians or by the Trojans themselves."

"Apollo's sacred herd still roams free on the slopes of Mount Ida; none has ventured to touch them," Kassandra reminded her. "Even the priestesses of Father Scamander have not ventured to lay a bridle on their heads." But this made her think of Oenone and she wondered how she fared. It had been years since she had caught sight of the girl; now the women of Mount Ida never came down to the city even for festivals. Paris never spoke of her and as far as Kassandra could tell, never thought of her; even though, now that Helen's children had been killed, Oenone's child was his only living son.

She said, "You and your women must be weary from travel; I offer you the hospitality of the Sunlord's house. Let me bring you servants who will conduct you to a bath, and if you wish for guest robes—"

"No, my dear," Penthesilea said. "A bath would be more than welcome, but my women and I will present ourselves in our armor and riding leathers; we are what we are and will not pretend to be otherwise."

Kassandra went to make the arrangements, then went to prepare herself to dine at the palace. She sent word that she would be bringing guests, but only to Queen Hecuba did she disclose their identity. As kinswomen she knew they would be welcomed, but she knew Priam had no love for the Amazons. Even so, the laws of hospitality were sacred and she knew Priam would never violate them.