Chapter Thirteen...Family Secrets
"He's brutal." her voice was low. Filled with an old wariness and memory. "After Miri - No. No, we should be fine
leaving." she lifted her face to Hector's again and gave him a smile, voice changing. "You've given them a topic that
should keep them occupied for the rest of the night at least. And fairly quiet too for a change." She slipped her
hand through his arm and looked toward the nearest exit. "You're now the hero of the servants due in tomorrow for
cleaning as well. I think if Podes doesn't pop up we should be able to make it out the door without mishap."
"Good." Hector said. "Because I'm all smiled and waved out. And even if Podes pops up, we should be able to give
him something to do to distract him long enough to make our great escape." He chuckled at the thought of evading
a young man who was barely out of childhood.
They headed toward the door, and once outside in the quiet of the corridor, he looked at his wife.
"Andromache...who's Miri? I've heard her mentioned in whispers, that's all."
Hector thought his family was mad. Wild and chaotic, each with their own brand of whirlwind. All he knew of hers was
sweet little Eleni and a passing glance at her father and brothers. Until her mother. He'd already faced one of the
demons that haunted her family. She wasn't sure another one in the same night no less was the right thing to do.
And yet - he had asked her. And she was so afraid he didn't understand that even in a simple competition her older
brother would be entirely merciless. And walk away from whatever the result was afterward comfortable with what
had happened. Walking down the twisting, narrow hall with her husband, hand in his, she softly asked:
"You remember - when my father was looking for a husband for me? Did you ever wonder why he kept looking at
merchants for me instead of princes or warriors? That it was strange that the oldest daughter of a kingdom of
soldiers wasn't being married to a soldier?" She raised her eyes, looked at the familiar walls they were passing.
Confessed: "I asked him for that. I begged him to marry me to anyone he chose as long as it wasn't a man of war. I
was tired of the roughness and aggression but - it was more than that."
"Miri was a wild child. Her father owns the largest rock quarries in Cilicia. Father wanted Athanasios to marry
someone from our own country as his first wife. Said the next queen of Thebe should be our blood. Miri was sixteen
and my brother was eighteen. Late for marriage but he'd always loved war more. Miri turned this household on its
ear when she moved in. She was - wild and loud and beautiful. She could throw a fit that rent the very air and
scorched ears from miles away. And she could turn around and say something or do something so sweet and
thoughtful that you'd want to give her the moon. We all felt that way. Even Athanasios, I think. It was like living with
living fire. I was quite fond of her and we all got used to having her in our lives."
Andromache paused. Looking down at the tiles of the floor under her feet. Her family ghosts were all things of the
past. They didn't matter to Hector and their future together. And she didn't want to upset the delicate balance that
he and her oldest brother were walking the fine line of. But Hector couldn't understand, not with his family and the
way they were, not growing up in civilized Troy with its polite society, what her family was like. What - if he fought her
brother, even on friendly terms with blunted weapons - that battle would be like. Not unless he understood how life
was here.
In Thebe, life was fast. And brutal. And cheap.
"One night - she and my brother fought. They did that a lot. She liked to throw things and my brother wasn't above
raising his hand to her. We - heard her screaming. And him yelling. They both had such huge voices." Andromache
finally stopped walking. Pressed her free hand to her face. "Most of the girls slept with me in my room that was on
the other side of the house where we didn't have to hear it. We did that lot because they yelled a lot." But she
remembered. She'd dreamed of Miri screaming... Drawing in a breath, she tried to keep her voice steady and
factual. "The next morning my brother went out to drill with the army the way he always did. And one of the servants
came and found me. To tell me - tell me something was wrong with Miri." She turned into her husband, shutting her
eyes tightly even though she'd always see it in her mind anyway. Words spilling out and not at all what she'd
planned to say. "You can't - you can't prepare a body - for burning. Not - not so it can be viewed - not after - she
wouldn't even lay right anymore. The bones weren't - " she choked it off. Took a moment. Trying to concentrated on
where she was. Who she was with. She'd had to bathe and prepare Miri's body. Find a way to hide what had been
done from the younger girls.
And at that point she'd realized exactly what a woman's life was worth as her family ignored what had been done
and Miri's father accepted the gold and cattle with pleasure.
"If it ever bothered my brother, he's never said so. Maybe it does but he doesn't show it. They say it was battle rage
and it took control of him and maybe its true. Father's never found him another wife and he hasn't asked for one
either. The men pretend they've forgotten. And we all remember. Sisters, wives, and cousins. Every time we're
handed over to man in marriage. We remember."
Hector just listened quietly, knowing if he wanted an answer it didn't serve him to interrupt. And just held her as they
walked, and when they stopped as she related the tale.
Yeah, that would be a good reason to shy away from soldiers. In people's minds it was true what was said about that
one rotten apple and the barrel. And he'd known soldiers like that, the ones who couldn't leave it on the battlefield,
the ones who viewed all of life as one big battlefield, to be approached with the same frenzy and discompassion.
And perhaps Troy was a more 'civilized' country. It was also far older, with its own brutal roots hidden in fancy
stories told by priests as parables now. And her sharing of that piece of her past made him even more grateful that
he hadn't gone through the 'proper' channels for her hand, hadn't asked her father. Just the concept would have
scared her beyond telling...marrying a general of one of the fiercest armies around., perhaps fiercer than the
mountain warriors of Thebe.
"Thank you for telling me." Hector said, kissing her forehead. And now he wasn't sure at all accepting a challenge
from Athanasios would be the best thing, for the battle side of him, his wife had gratefully never seen. Or
Athanasios for that matter, he'd only seen rote training.
"You need to understand." she answered softly. Miri had made them all laugh and Andromache had loved her like a
little sister. The loss of her, and how they had lost her, was both painful and a pointed reminder. She'd told Hector
so little about her family. Not because she didn't love them - or trust him - but because she came from such a rough
background compared to the polished smoothness of his. Her father hadn't been the oldest son of the former king.
He'd been the third son of the king's brother and taken the rule of Thebe by force when his cousin couldn't hold it.
The same threat loomed over Athanasios. Only the strong in this kingdom were allowed to keep what they could
hold. The family understood it and there were no apologizes for that fact.
They accepted and respected Hector as one of their own, not because he was a prince, but because he kept what
was his and protected it with force when it was called for. She raised her face to him, eyes solemn and worried.
"Athanasios has to challenge at some point. He needs to establish where he is. Even beaten by you, he'll still know.
There's no shame in being beaten by someone that's stronger than you and he won't hold a grudge. But he'll fight
you with everything in him. And he won't hold back because it might wound or cripple. We don't have practices
among our seasoned warriors. Platon didn't lose so much of his eyesight to an enemy. I know you can beat my
brother." she lifted her hand and wound fingers in the dark hair above one of his ears. "Because of what's here.
Because you're smarter. But I want you to be ready. To understand. So that you know what you're facing before
you face it." She cupped his face in her hands and searched his eyes. "I want you to be safe" she said fiercely. She
couldn't protect him on the battle field. And she couldn't protect him against her family's violent ways. Hector had
already proved he could more than hold his own in a rough world like hers. But she could warn him. So when he
went into battle he was armed with knowledge as well as his own skill and wisdom. "Because if anything happens to
you because of my family, they will think my mother was a gentle warning compared to what I will do to them."
"Nothing will happen to me. Bruises, scrapes, nothing more." He assured her. He had confidence in his own skills as
a warrior. He might hate the legends and tales that preceded him wherever he seemed to go, but one didn't get to
be preceded by tales sung by bards, especially foreign bards, by merely looking good on a horse.
"But I don't want you to watch." He said. "I was schooled in much the same manner as Athanasios. Just outside
Sparta. My class started out with one hundred and fifty training warriors. When I returned to Troy, I had graduated
in a class of sixteen. The rest...they didn't drop out." They'd been killed in 'exercises.' "If your brother chooses to
challenge me to make a point, I won't hold back. Its not in me. So don't watch."
She nodded. Eyes still on his. He didn't scare her. He could come to her covered in blood in full battle armor and as
long as the blood wasn't his own - he wouldn't scare her. Not because he wasn't fearsome. But because she trusted
him. To never hurt her. Heart, body, and soul. He would always keep her safe. Gentle, she slipped her fingers along
his face, her own features soft.
"I won't." she agreed. Because he would think of her and worry what it looked like through her eyes if she was there.
She would be a distraction. She understood that. Lifting her face to his, she murmured:
"Come back to me. When its over. Come find me."