Laertides knew exactly where the temple of the god was. He had made offerings there on a earlier trip to Ilium, under flag of truce to parley with Priam and his sons. It was precisely where he remembered it, at the base of the acropolis by the path up to the citadel. The fighting had been heavy there earlier, although the defenders seemed to have gotten the worst of it. He could see that most of them had been cut down from behind and their corpses stripped of valuables. Now it was deserted, like the great square before it. So much the better, he thought, he had been fighting all night and although his wounds were minor, he was tired, grime and gore covered his body and his armor chafed and rubbed his skin raw in all the wrong places. The stink of death and stale sweat and the unmistakeable odor of fear permeated him and his comrades, it was a long night but it would soon be over.

"Here it is, boys.", he croaked. He had been shouting almost continuously for hours and any attempt to raise his voice sounded like a child on the edge of manhood. "You have my word, you'll all get your share, but I go in first, alone. The rest of you form up about the door and cover my back. Spare any man who comes out unarmed, we need not desecrate the temple with the blood of its priests --unless we have to. This is the only way out, so if I'm not back by daybreak, come in and avenge me. I've only come to pay my respects to the Earthshaker." The men laughed and cheered, but he could detect fear in their banter. They were not eager to violate the temple of Poseidon.

His long spear would only get in the way in the cramped confines of the sanctuary, he handed it to his lieutenant, drew his sword and bounded up the steps to the great oak door beyond the collonade; in the light of the fires he could see it was ajar. He kicked it open and ran in to the antechamber. Inside, two long rows of columns, alternating with flaming tripods, led to the bronze door to the inner sanctum. The shadows from the flickering fire danced about the columns and the frescoes on the walls. They were a wonder, all manner of marine creatures, sea-nymphs and minor deities, ships and sailors. None of this would survive the sacking of the city, he thought sadly. At the end of the collonade, before the great door, stood the temple's lone defender, an aged priest armed in gloriously wrought, but totally impractical, ceremonial armor. The Achaian smiled at the spectacle of the little man trembling before him, but he admired his courage. His knees rattled together and he had soiled himself at the sight of this sooty and dusty apparition approaching him, armed not in spotless gold but in workaday bronze, spattered with the clotted blood of his enemies. But the priest stood his ground and raised his spear, ready to die in defense of the Earthshaker.

"I have no quarrel with you, old man", spoke the son of Laertes, "the war is over for both of us. "Go home, and go in peace, no one will stop you, but you'd best leave your gear behind. I have more use for it now than you do." The priest thought about it for a moment, then calmly removed his equipment and scurried out the front door. He could hear his men outside laughing and jeering at the old fellow, but there was no clash of arms, no scream of pain. He hoped he made it to his wife and children in spite of the fighting that still raged in parts of the city.

The bronze doors to the sanctuary were also ajar, there had been no provision to bar them from within and no point in sealing them from without. The Achaian shoved them open, sword and shield ready for what might lie beyond, and strode into the room. There was nothing in the sanctuary but the altar before him, and beyond that the great statue of Poseidon, covered in thin sheets of beaten gold. Sizzling on the altar was a last sacrifice to the god, the joint of a heifer, wrapped in layers of fat and sprinkled with barley meal. A beaker of wine lay beside it.

He paused for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dim light of the torches, surveying the room directly and by the reflection of the gilt on the statue. A figure was clearly visible in reflection, concealed behind the door to his right. He paused and beckoned with his sword to the figure to step out into the room. Whoever it was could clearly see him reflected in the statue as well, silhouetted by the brighter light in the anteroom. "Come out, priestess, and sheath your blade, you have nothing to fear from me."
She strode into the center of the room, daintily placed her knife, a treasure made from the indestructible Hittite black metal, on the altar and turned to speak.

"Welcome to the temple of Poseidon, O wily Odysseus, Son of Laertes, King of Ithaka, and Captain of the Kephallonian rabble, bar-bar-bar..."

He was shaken by her poise, as well as her beauty, but never being at a loss, he answered immediately. "You honour me, my family and my country, but I do not know you, and I cannot see how you could recognize me, even if you did know who I was. I am wearing armour that protected the backside of one of your noble countrymen earlier this evening."

"Only you would be so bold as to defile the sanctuary of the sea god, armed, covered in filth and alone, with the blood of the Earthshaker's children still sticky on your sword. No doubt now you plan to take your pleasure with his priestess."

Odysseus wiped his sword on the altar-cloth, sheathed it and adjusted the strap by which it was slung over his shoulder so she could not reach it. He walked towards the altar, took her knife and calmly cut himself a slab of flesh from the steaming offering, skewered it and a piece of fat on the tip of the blade and shoved it into his mouth. He had not eaten for hours and he was famished. He washed it down with a draught of the unmixed wine before he spoke. "You are brave and beautiful, my lady, and no doubt pious as well. But you have forgotten your manners, it is customary to identify oneself when speaking to a gentleman." He proceeded to cut another mouthful before she had an opportunity to answer.

"I am Kassandra, daughter of Priam, Princess of Ilium and priestess to Poseidon. We met years ago in my father's court when you and your companions were his honored guests. Now you plunder his city, insult his gods, and prepare to rape his child. Do you remember me now?"

"Oh yes, I do. You were just a child then, you reminded me of my own child bride, which I had to leave to come fight this miserable war on this god-forsaken plain. As for your rape, that will have to be postponed, and I will, unfortunately, take no part in it. I am here, under the direct orders of King Agamemnon, to sack the temple. You, my dear, are part of the booty. I will not lay a finger on you. Perhaps, if any of your kinsmen or your Trojan allies survive this night, one might even ransom you from Atreides. I hear he has one woman too many already, but never enough gold. Who knows, you might even marry some respectable young nobleman."

"Your lies and your stratagems are legendary, Laertides. The truth is that you know perfectly well I will resist any attempt to be taken by you or any other of your Argive scum. No man will ever have me except by force, which will reduce my value as a virgin princess considerably, wouldn't it? Any man may overpower me, but he is going to have to hurt me, or even kill me, to take me. I will not go quietly. You know that, which is why you sweet-talk me with lies of ransom and rescue, and take me into your confidence by offering me your protection and shelter."

Odysseus laughed. The first laugh he had had in a very, very long time. "My dear, I am offering you nothing. You are my prisoner, not my property. Besides, I already have a wife. By the gods," he said, pointing the tip of her own knife at her ," I do like you, you are a prize indeed, and you have my word that you will be treated with courtesy and respect while under my command. And you will be delivered safely to Mykaeni, untouched. After that, I can make no promises. Besides, working for the old man won't be too bad, providing you have some useful household skills. Even if he can't sell you off as a virgin wife to some noble retainer, as befits your rank, at worst you'll have to endure his advances for a while; but believe me, he will tire of you soon. He has an endless stream of country girls (and boys!) to amuse him. You might even wind up in waiting for that harpy of a wife of his, Klytemnaestra. In that case, one look at you and she'll make it a point to never let him get his hands on you." Here his voice became softer, more compassionate, "Being a slave is never a happy lot for the noble-born, but it is the way of the world, how the gods reward the victorious and punish the vanquished, and it is the way the victors may offer their enemies compassion, and the gift of life. There was no shortage of slaves and bastards in your own kingly household, as I recall."

"Compassion", she snarled, "my only compassion will be the bed of an old man and a life at the loom, and I will nurse other's children while my own are sold before my eyes." Odysseus cut himself another slab of flesh, he had a feeling this was going to take a while. "You hypocrite," she continued, not missing a beat, "even behind the walls we heard the tales of your fair Penelope and your little whelp, how you never pleasured yourself with your captives, but dutifully delivered them to your betters to curry favor with them. Not that it stopped you from helping yourself to the whores and the farm girls that hang about your ships selling their bodies for a scrap of food." What favors will the Mykaenaen dog shower you with for delivering me to him?"

Odysseus took a long draught of the wine, but he was careful to swallow little of the undiluted brew. He needed to stay alert and the food and the fighting were starting to catch up with him. He also needed time to think of an answer for the girl, there was truth in her words and they troubled him. "Child, you are wise and you have moved me, but you know as well as I that there is nothing I can do for you, even if I wanted to. In a way, we all serve someone, as you have so ably pointed out. We all must do what the gods and our betters expect of us, I have learned that bitter lesson many times over, you are about to learn it now."

She ran towards him in breathless anticipation, "No, no, there is something you can do! There is a boon you can grant me, it is a little thing for you, but it would give me great satisfaction."

Odysseus remained silent, but his look said "Go on."

"The sons of Atreus have brought down my house, slaughtered my kin and destroyed my country. I must not, will not, be sacrified to their lust. I cannot escape their bed, but I can at least savor the secret knowledge that they will not despoil the maiden daughter of Priam. I want to be a whore when Agamemnon takes me, he will never know, but I will, and it will sustain me throughout my captivity, he will not have conquered me, he will have damaged goods. It is the only revenge I can hope for, and I know you will help me because you have no more love of Mykaeni and Sparta than I do. Think of the misery they have heaped on you and your comrades because of this war."

Odysseus allowed himself one tiny sip of the wine and spoke very precisely, "Just what is it that you have in mind, my lady?"

"You have waged war fiercely on us, son of Laertes, but you have fought honorably, and have always kept your word. You have taken compassion on our wounded, and let them go when they were no longer a threat to you or your comrades, and you have always killed cleanly, without brutality. You have allowed the living to recover their dead for decent burial, and have offered your protection to supplicants and heralds. And you have forbidden your men to commit the pointless cruelties that the base-born often inflict on their helpless foes. You have always spoken truthfully in council, and you have listened to our side fairly in parley. Of all the Achaeans, you are most like my brother Hector, and I know you loved him as much as you feared him."

"You haven't answered my question, girl."

"Take me, Odysseus, I know I will please you, you know it too. If I cannot surrender my body to someone I love, at least let me offer it as a just prize to someone I respect. Let my first time with a man be one I will cherish for the rest of my life, to cover the shame of all the other times which will surely follow. My dowry will be the insult you will have done to the Atreides, and the love I already sense in you for me will comfort me during my captivity, it will be my bride-price. The gods will know that the greatest Argive of all honored me with his kindness and with his discretion. You are no boaster, and besides, it would profit neither of us if the truth were ever known to Agamemnon. That is my bargain, it would cost you nothing if you have the courage to accept it."

Odysseus thought a long time before he answered, too long, he realized; this mad priestess already knew he was seriously considering her offer. "The King's midwives will inspect you and would know immediately you were no virgin, and they would eventually get the truth out of you."

"No!", she interrupted, she had obviously thought this all through. "No one can know that for certain, and besides, his servants will not be eager to tell him even if they do suspect. If he knows, he will never dare admit it. Besides, he is just a man, what does he know of these things?"

Odysseus laughed again, he was enjoying this, and he was becoming very fond of this girl. "Kassandra, we men may not be as wise as we like to think we are, but neither are we as foolish as you women believe we are." He cut her a piece of meat, passed it to her and she wolfed it down hungrily, her look begged for another and he gave it to her. "Eat, my sweet child, for the god has forsaken your offering just as he has obviously favored me with his." She looked back at him, a tear on her cheek, and a thin drool on her chin. It only endeared her more to him. He wished he had a clean shirt on, he would wipe her face with it lovingly and then kiss her gently.

He placed her knife out of her reach on the altar and he reached out to her to do exactly that, too late to see her hand dart beneath her apron and pull out the small bronze dagger she kept concealed there. She was on him in a moment, somehow knowing he would hesitate to draw his own weapon for fear of blemishing his prize, and she plunged the blade directly into his heart. She put all her strength into the blow, and off-balance, Laertides lost his footing and fell backward. The iron blade would have killed him instantly, but the soft bronze one was blunted by the thick leather strap of his scabbard-sling, and the turned point failed to penetrate the thin metal of his breastplate. As he fell away from her he reached instinctively for the altar-cloth and as it came with him it pulled the bowl and the offering with it, scattering it and glittering coals on the stone flags beneath them. The tripod clattered to the floor and the wine spilled like blood upon the stone.

Not knowing he was unharmed, she sprang after him to finish him off but stepped barefoot on a hot coal, and off-balance herself, slipped on the greasy fat sizzling between them. Odysseus hit the ground backwards but rolled over on his feet in one quick motion, drawing his sword as he did so. When she looked up from the floor, he was standing above her, the battered, bone-nicked blade poised over her, the point inches from her eyes.

"Kill me, you swine!", she shrieked, "By the gods, if I get another chance I will not miss again." Odysseus only stared down, his eyes glaring from inside his helmet (he was still fully armed), the horsehair plume quivering from his anger, his nostrils flaring like a horse's, his teeth exposed in a grimace of rage. He kicked the little dagger away, threw down his shield, and took off his helmet. He reached down with his left hand and grabbed Kassandra's hair, pulling her to her feet. With his sword, he scraped what was left of the offering debris from the altar and threw her on it. In one swift movement he ripped off her gown, in another he cut it in two, and bound her feet with one half, her hands behind her back with the other. She wore nothing underneath.

A familiar voice came from the door, his aide and kinsman Eurylochus, "My lord, it is first light, the sun will rise shortly. Is everything all right in there?"

"Yes, leave me alone, I won't be long, I have one more offering to make to the Earthshaker."

"Kill me, you Ithaki dog," Kassandra hissed at him, staring fearlessly into his eyes, " but I will haunt you every time you bed your precious Penelope for the rest of your wretched life. You will think of me, not her, I know it. You know I have been cursed by Apollo to always tell the truth but never be believed. And you will know it every time you fuck her for as long as you live. And so will she."

"I don't doubt it for a moment.", he replied, sheathing his sword and unslinging the strap from his shoulder and laying it on the ground by his shield and helmet. He stood over her as she lay helpless on the altar, vainly struggling against the clever sailor's knots in the thin cloth of her bindings. Gripping her by shoulder and hip, he rolled her over on her stomach, almost off the altar, but he caught her in time, and pulling on her legs he unceremoniously repositioned her on the stone slab. He reached down to the floor and took a slab of fat, squeezed it in his hand till the grease dripped down his arm, and then anointed himself, and her. "But I won't kill you. And Agamemnon will still get his virgin, intact."