The truce rather to Kassandra's surprise, was not broken by the Akhaians. None of them competed in Hector's funeral games - except for an anonymous Myrmidon who entered the wrestling, threw four successive opponents (ending by pinning down Deiphobos), pocketed the golden cup given as a prize, and vanished without revealing his name. Gossip in the city later credited him with being one of the Immortals in disguise, but he wasn't. Paris said he had seen him in the ranks and he was just a common soldier. Trojans and Akhaians both stood watching the various events and applauding the winners in a fine sportsmanlike way.

Penthesilea insisted on competing for the prize in archery, which caused some trouble when she won handily against all comers, including Paris, who had obviously marked out that prize for himself. He protested, but no one upheld his objection; since Paris had been heard often to say that no man alive could best him at archery, several of Priam's younger sons (who were not at all sorry to see their brother beaten for once) insisted he had no right to complain at being beaten by a woman.

On the third morning Kassandra woke early, hearing with relief the sounds of many birds singing loudly in the gardens of the Sunlord's house; at least there would be no substantial earthquake this day.

She went early to the rooms in the palace—Penthesilea had moved from her quarters in the Sunlord's house—and helped arm the Amazon in her armor of hardened leather with metal plates.

"All of us will be fighting, and this day we - we Amazons, that is - will throw all our forces against Akhilles," she said. "We have fought for many years. One warrior, be he never so fierce, cannot lay us all low."

"I wish you would set yourselves to attack someone less formidable," Kassandra said, troubled, "There are enemies enough; such as Menelaus and Idomeneos need killing too. Why not go against Agamemnon? Why must you challenge the pride of the Akhaians?"

"Because, if Agamemnon or Menelaus is killed, Akhilles is still there to inspire them, but when Akhilles is dead, the whole crew of them will be like a hive when the queen is gone," Penthesilea said. "The Myrmidons at least will be completely demoralized; remember when Akhilles was still sulking, they hardly fought at all, and they certainly did not fight like the well-disciplined army they are now."

"Oh, I can understand why you feel this way," Kassandra said, "but this is not even your war. I wish you would all leave before this day's fight."

Penthesilea looked her straight in the face. "Have you had an omen, bright eyes?"

"Not really," Kassandra said, then realized she should have said yes; maybe the Amazon would have believed her. She flung her arms around Penthesilea and began to cry.

"I wish you wouldn't," was all she could say. She clung to the older woman weeping, and Penthesilea scowled.

"Come, now, where's the warrior I myself trained?" she asked, "You are behaving like a weak house-bred woman! There—that's right - dry those bright eyes, my love, and let me go."

Reluctantly, Kassandra wrenched herself free, trying to stifle her tears. "But Akhilles is invulnerable; they say a God protects him and no man can kill him."

"Well, Paris boasted that no man could beat him at archery," Penthesilea said with a droll smile. "Perhaps that only means it is reserved for a woman to kill him. And if I am not ordained to do it, perhaps another of my women may do so to avenge me. Darling, no mortal man is invulnerable; and if any God protects such a monster, then such a God should be ashamed. We have given too much power to Akhilles; he is a man like any other."

Nevertheless he did kill Hector, Kassandra thought, but there was nothing to say, for Penthesilea was right. They walked together, surrounded by the other Amazons, to where the horses and chariots were forming up for the attack.

Penthesilea put her arm round Kassandra's waist.

"Why, child, you are still shaking!"

"I can't help being afraid for you," Kassandra said in a muffled voice.

Penthesilea frowned at her, then her voice altered to tenderness. "This can be no part of a warrior's life, bright-eyes. I don't want anyone to see you weeping like this. Come, darling, let me go-"

I can't bear to see her go! She will never return… but Kassandra reluctantly unwound her arms from her kinswoman's waist. Penthesilea kissed her and said, "Kassandra, whatever may happen, know that to me you have been more than a daughter, and dearer than any of my lovers. You have been my friend."

Kassandra stood aside, watching through a blur of tears as her aunt swung up into her saddle; the Amazons closed ranks about her, talking in low tones of battle strategies; then the gate swung open and they rode out.

Kassandra knew she should go to her mother in the palace, or to the temple to oversee the serpents - all was in confusion there now that the death of the Great Snake was known—but instead she went up on the wall to watch as Penthesilea and her group rode forth against the Akhaians. Half a dozen of the Trojan chariots rode out first, directly engaging the massed forces with spears and swords. Then like thunder the charge of the Amazon horses raced down on Akhilles and his men.

They came together with a shock of spears clearly heard by the women on the wall. When the dust subsided, two of the Amazons were lying on the ground, their horses fallen. One scrambled to her feet and cut her assailant down with her spear, the other lay motionless, her fallen horse struggling and rolling away, trying to rise. An Akhaian soldier saw its struggles and quickly cut its throat, then knelt over the fallen woman to wrench off her fine armor. Kassandra saw that Penthesilea had survived the first charge; her horse had taken a spear wound, but was still on its feet.

The Amazon Queen swung her animal and charged right through a cluster of Akhilles's soldiers, knocking them aside, killing more than one with her spear-thrusts. Kassandra saw the very moment when Akhilles became aware of her: when she cut down a man who must have been one of his own personal bodyguard. She saw the leap he made, facing the Amazon as if inviting her to get down and fight him face to face.

Penthesilea straightened her body to face him head on, sword to sword. She was actually taller than he was, and had a longer reach with the sword. They clashed together, with a flurry of sword-strokes too swift to follow. Akhilles reeled backward and for a moment went down on his knees. He made some signal so that his men rushed in and immediately engaged all the other warrior women. Then, swiftly as a striking snake, he was up, his sword moving almost too quickly to be seen; Penthesilea retreated a few steps until she stood against her horse's flank. But his relentless sword pressed her until she went down. Kassandra heard the breath sob out of her as Akhilles fell to the Amazon's side. What was the madman doing? He tore at her clothes in a frenzy, leaned forward and as they watched in horror, violently raped the corpse.

Monstrous, she thought, if only I bad my bow! Akhilles had finished and was fighting off the four Amazons who had come to attack him. He cut down two of them at once, then took, down another with a spear, wounding her so that, reeling away, she was cut down by one of his soldiers. The remaining women made a desperate rush to recover Penthesilea's body, but they were hopelessly out-numbered and within a few more minutes not a single Amazon warrior remained alive. The soldiers rounded up and led away their surviving horses. In a single hour of battle, an entire tribe with all their culture and their memories had been wiped out, and that fiend Akhilles had carried out the final insult to a warrior who dared challenge him. She did not believe for a single moment that he had been overcome by lust; it was a cold-blooded act of contempt.