Chapter Sixteen....Empire of Three
Andromache hated being sick. That was why she so often simply refused to get that way. She hated being sick
because it slowed her down and made her feel miserable. And she hated being sick because people did horrible
things to sick people. Like force them to stay in bed and ask them stupid questions and speak in whispers and try to
give them nauseating smelling potions. After she only managed to get the first one half way down before it all came
up again, they stopped with the potions at least and she felt spitefully vindicated.
Being on land helped. It helped a great deal. She almost wished she'd only been seasick as embarrassing as that
would have been. But her bones ached and all it took was a single sniff of almost any smell and she was sick again.
And tired. She'd never been so tired. For some reason that was what scared her the most. She felt as if she was
losing time.
The healers had mostly retreated by this point and Andromache was drifting. The door to her chamber pushed
open and she opened an eye to see Hecuba striding into the room, with a face that looked ready for battle and
Timo behind her. It made Andromache smile. As a woman - she trusted Timo more than the healers. They were
men and half priest. Timo was a woman and half farmer. The women of the palace came to her for everything from
love charms to monthly problems. Her love charms, she'd admitted to Andromache, weren't half as effective as her
herbal remedies. Considering the number she'd created for other women with Hector in mind, Andromache had
found that a good thing. Now her mother in law and the herbalist stood next to her bed. Hecuba leaned down to
brush her daughter in law's hair back from her forehead, concerned by the translucence of her skin and the way it
was drawn so tightly across the fragile bones of her face. It made the younger girl's eyes look even larger and
darker than usual.
"I hear you've been worrying my son." Hecuba stated fondly and Andromache smiled weakly. Two years ago she
would have thought it was an accusation. Today she accepted it for the gentle concern over her that it was.
"I told him I was sick." she answered, voice a bit rough in her throat.
"I would tend to agree." the queen took her thin boned hand in her own as Timo hustled about the room, throwing
open windows and letting fresh air in to sweep away the smell of incense and caustic brews. There was a suspicion
among the healers but they'd sent for Timo to be sure of it. Now the round little woman bustled back over and very
gently drew the blanket away from Andromache, feeling at her stomach through the fabric of her dress with gentle
fingers. Muscles sore, Andromache made a face and exhaled through her lips.
Timo made humming, knowledgeable noises and continued her exam. Which was more thorough than the healers
had been since they were all male and she was the crown princess of Troy.
"You've been tired a great deal lately?" Timo asked. "Back aches? Headaches?"
Brows low, Andromache nodded. Timo made little 'humph'ing noises.
"Skin more sensitive?" Timo asked after a minute, looking up at her and Andromache felt her mother in law's hand
tighten suddenly on hers. It took some thinking about because she was used to her skin being more sensitive when
her husband was around but she finally nodded.
"Its that boat. All that rocking back and forth. What were you doing traveling at a time like this?" Timo put her hands
on her wide hips and looked sternly at her charge before her face softened at the bewildered look on
Andromache's face. "We can blame it on your husband's curly hair too. Haven't been eating much, have you?"
"No. I - what?" Andromache asked. Aware that she wasn't sick. But her mother and Timo were being a bit too busy
hiding their smiles for her to be dying. Hecuba patted her hand as she held it.
"Boat's are such small, closed space with all that rocking going on. I'd dare say it trapped all the smells of fish and
oil and whatnot as well. Even above deck you would have noticed. And after the sickness started you probably
weren't in the mood to eat any of the salted or dried food."
"Stopped drinking too". Timo muttered darkly. "Happens all the time. Girls stop drinking because they think its all
coming back up anyway."
"It was." Andromache protested. Feeling as if she was missing something, just one fact, that was vitally important
and would explain all the talk going on around her. Brisk, Hecuba let go of her hand and walked to the door to give
orders to the attendants waiting outside.
"No more of that." she stated as she came back. "You're on dry land and I'm going to send you to your rooms far
above the city where the smells won't set you off. I want you to eat, a little bit, every few hours. It will actually help
keep you from getting sick. And nothing spicy or too sweet either. Also I won't tolerate it if you stop drinking again. I
don't care if most of it comes back up. You will keep some liquid down. I expect you to obey that rule. Its one of the
reasons you're so weak now and you haven't got a lot of weight you can spare to lose."
Struggling to sit up, and then deciding against it, Andromache laid back down and blinked. Asked the one question
that kept coming up in her mind.
"What does Hector's curly hair have to do with this?"
Timo laughed and shared a look with Hecuba as she answered.
"Now, dear. Everyone knows that babies that are going to be born with thick, curly hair always make their mothers
sicker than babies with fine hair."
The attendants weren't the only ones that Hecuba spoke to. She spoke also to her husband in a hushed, rushed
tone. Priam had made the decision that whatever was wrong with his daughter in law, he'd be the one to tell his
oldest son. Not some healer or medicine woman, or worse yet (as far as Hector was concerned) a priest. He hid his
smile as he regally walked down the hall to where Hector was waiting on the stone bench. Sitting there calmly.
Which Priam knew to be an illusion. Just one close look at the prince and one would see every muscle tense
beneath the skin, and a set to his jaw that was fearsome in its concern.
Hector looked at his father as Priam sat beside him.
"I'm going to kill her." He said, seriously.
"Who?" Priam asked, not sure they were on the same page.
"Her mother. She poisoned her and she will pay." Hector said through clenched teeth.
"Her mother didn't do this to her." Priam said, laying a hand on his son's shoulder, rock hard in its tenseness. "You
did."
"What?" Hector snapped. "I would never..." but Priam cut him off.
"I remember when your mother was with child. Cassandra was easy, for all the problems she would have later."
Priam said nostalgically as Hector tried to follow. But he was too caught up that somehow he was responsible for his
wife's impending death. He'd surely throw himself off the highest wall in Troy if that were so. "With you, it was
another matter." Priam actually chuckled. "She couldn't get out of bed for months. Sick as a drunkard who had
finally drunk bad wine. She couldn't tolerate the sun anymore, which in Troy, as you know, can be a problem."
"What are you babbling about, Father?" Hector asked, shaking his head.
"Crown princes have always given the women in our family trouble when they've been in the womb." Priam said with
a smile, then embraced his son, kissing both of Hector's shocked cheeks.
"Congratulations, my son, you're about to give me my first grandson." Priam was sure it was a boy. He didn't buy
the hair theory the women subscribed to. He liked his crown prince theory much better. After all, between all his
wives and all their pregnancies, the roughest one had been Hecuba with Hector.
Hector's whole body relaxed, the years worry had etched on his face, wiped away with a single wide smile as he got
to his feet to go into the room where they had taken Andromache, the King of Troy chuckling behind him.