Chapter Twelve....The Feast
When Eetion gave a party, he didn't hold back. And this was a celebration for Thebe's newest ally. He'd received
better trade from Troy in the past two years than he would have ever hoped for. His daughter had married a man
that was not only more powerful than anyone he'd thought of for her, the crown prince seemed to genuinely love
her. Which was probably a weakness for the warrior but it was hard to disapprove when he'd never seen his oldest
daughter so radiant. Troy had opened up trade routes, both through its markets and for the city itself. Thebe now
had an ally in war that was a force to be reckoned with. And, just today, the prince of Troy had gone into the
hydra's den and bearded her there.
Eetion wasn't foolish enough to think his first wife was out of tricks or cornered yet. But he'd taken steps to see that
the prince's momentum was used to its fullest advantage. What he'd started was easily picked up and carried
onward. And the steps he'd already taken would make sure she wasn't a physical threat for a while as well. He
wasn't a man that took chances and left an enemy at his back and he wasn't foolish enough to think that his first
wife wouldn't try something if she were still whole and free. So he made sure she wasn't.
Hector was his guest and under his protection. Even if the young prince hardly seemed to need it.
Now he opened his stores and the tables groaned under the weight of the food and the wine ran in rivers. The
musicians were the best local could provide and the music was cheerful and already staring to move toward
restless and wild. The fires were piled high in their pits to ward off the early chill of the season's change. The hall
itself was full of most of the family and the city's councilors as well as the high priests and the talk was animated.
And no one was in their cups yet. Though if Podes kept retelling his story about Hector's visit to his mother in law -
he was going to drive several of them to it.
Athanasios listened to it carefully however. Drawing in the details. Eetion had raised the boy among his own guard
to keep him as far from his mother's clutches as possible but there was no doubt the oldest son of Thebe had felt
her poisoned claws often enough to deserve the details of her fall.
Eetion knew he should have killed the witch years ago. If not for the prophecy.
Andromache however had managed to collect one of his older generals and the man, half blind and long retired,
was currently relating to Troy's next king some of his father's exploits in war that probably hadn't been passed on.
Priam hadn't always been as dignified and set in his ways as he was now after all.
Hector laughed uproariously and fully as the general related stories of his father he'd certainly never heard within
the walls of Troy, a mug of wine in his hand. But unlike most everyone else there, it was still his first (unless you
counted the one 'sacrificed' for the gods, then it was his second).
"I'll be sure to ask my father about this when we return to Troy." He said to the general with a laugh.
"He'll deny it surely!" The general said, waving for another wine. "But its good to know Troy hasn't gone soft in its
prosperity." He said with almost a grave nod, peering at Hector through clouded, aged eyes. "You look just like
him."
Hector exchanged a quiet smile with his wife. He far more resembled his mother, and his mother's father, than the
fairer, lighter King Priam with his crystal blue eyes. All of Hecuba's children had inherited her deep liquid brown
eyes as opposed to her husband's eyes. No use telling the general that, though, he didn’t have the capacity of
sight to really make a judgement.
Athanasios, however, was worse for drink than anyone else. "And here's to the Prince of Troy!" He announced
loudly over the talking and music as he held a young dancing girl tightly to his side, who was in no position to
object, so she didn't. Besides, the girl was nearly holding up the larger warrior.
Thankfully Eetion stopped Athanasios before he could get much further than 'And that's how to deal with in-laws!'
by calling up louder music to drown out his oldest son, who didn't even notice, and kept going. At least he was
barely heard now.
Hector had promised himself to be vigilant, and vigilant he was. He half expected Triantifilla to make a dramatic
appearance over one of the balconies. And his wife ate nothing without someone else eating first. That part wasn't
too hard, as it was a buffet.
He slipped an arm around his wife's tiny waist as she had to ignore her brother and kissed her temple to provide
more distraction for her mind. "We should definitely tell Father about that story, whenever he starts to talk of his
regal and dignified younger days." He said.
The feast was still in its early stages. At least by the standards of Thebe. Andromache kept an eye on everything.
Even though it wasn't her position anymore. Habits died hard. Eetion's newest wife, who sat near him, entirely
dwarfed by both the chair she was in and her giant of a husband, wasn't half as efficient as Andromache would
have liked but the staff had trained under her for years and still kept things flowing smoothly whether the head wife
was paying attention or not. Andromache was proud of them.
Hector was laughing and her heart felt light because of it. There was really no way to avoid all the tales that were
going to be told about him tonight. Podes was doing more than his fair share all on his own. But she knew how
much Hector hated it. And so she'd wracked her brain until she'd remembered Platon. Who was always more than
happy to relive his younger days and had fought with, and against, Priam. That he made Hector happy, provided
relief from the constant attention to her husband, and made him laugh was more than she could have hoped for.
When Hector drew her closer she went willingly. More than glad to snuggle against his side and turn her face into
his shoulder for a moment at the touch of his lips to her skin. She loved him. Gods, she loved him. And was never
so glad of his protective strength as she was to have him between her and her older brother.
"Imagine the look on his face." she grinned up at her husband as he talked of calling his father on some of Priam's,
now obviously more restrained, tales of battle and valor of yore. Across the room, Lucia caught her eye and
Andromache minutely shook her head. Lucia was the servant in charge of making sure the wine kept flowing. And
she was the only one Andromache trusted to fill her husband's goblet. But Hector was drinking light, as he always
did and so it wasn't necessary yet.
Too many evil things ended up the wine in this household...
Though she hadn't seen or heard from Triantifilla, Andromache knew she wasn't gone. And she also knew her
family would already be taking the steps necessary to punish her for what she'd done to them all these years. So
she didn't ask too closely. But she wasn't going to take the chance either.
Platon was launching into another tale - this one centered around a girl Priam had been convinced he was going
to woe and win. Despite the fact that her brother was the leader of the opposing force, and Andromache relaxed
against her husband. More than content to listen and watch tonight. There was little else expected of the women at
this table anyway.
Aspasia, one of her father's many wives, caught her eye from across the room and raised a fine eyebrow and
Andromache, well aware of her husband's arm still around her and the way the firelight poured gold into his dark
hair, raised her own eyebrows innocently in return. Aspasia, easily young enough to be one of her sisters, choked
on her laugh and recovered with a drink.
And still Athanasios spoke.
There were phases to his drinking. This, the verbose one, while embarrassing and sometimes frightening, was at
the very first layer. Still moderately jovial and more companionable than he usually was. The drinking songs would
come next - still a while from now for her brother could consume large quantities of alcohol without effect. When he
cheerfully started suggesting feats of skill was usually the time to leave. While his mood was still good.
Andromache was worried about Hector.