You can learn from me just as soon as you can catch me!
I don’t know why I heard Polydeuces’s long-ago taunt at that moment. I only knew that the gods themselves had thrown a challenge my way, and I meant to accept it. Without breaking stride, I veered sharply and ran after the hare. The wind tasted sweet as my shadow flew across the grass. The hare ran, he leaped, he zigzagged wildly, but I matched him every time, move for move, until at last he slowed his pace. That was when I paused, bent my knees, and with a mighty leap flung myself onto the creature.
A moment later the hare was racing off, unharmed, and I was standing in the middle of the field holding a tuft of fur from his tail and shouting triumphantly at the sun, “Got you, Polydeuces!” Then I toppled backward into the meadow and watched the sky spin crazily above me as I gasped for breath and grinned.
When I recovered from my mad race, I felt ready to take every last You can’t! that the world wanted to throw at me and turn it into Oh yes I can!
It was time for me to learn how to do more than run.
I got back on my feet and looked across the field to a grove of olive trees, their silver-green leaves fluttering in the breeze. The palace citadel lay in that direction, and so did the narrow strip of open ground where Glaucus gave my brothers their daily training lessons.
If Polydeuces was so dead set against girls learning the ways of sword and spear, I was certain that his teacher would be even more unreasonable about sharing his lessons. Well, the hare hadn’t wanted to give me the little tuft of fur that was now my prized trophy, but I’d still managed to take it. Why couldn’t I do the same with those lessons?
I ran to the olive grove but took care to say a prayer to Athena before entering the trees. The goddess of wisdom created the olive tree so that we mortals would enjoy its gifts—especially the oil we used for everything from cooking, to protecting skin and hair, to filling the lamps that brightened our homes. The trees that grew near the citadel were kept sacred to her, their fruits never harvested except by her priests when they wanted oil to light her temple. I was sure that Athena would bless my plan to spy on Glaucus and my brothers, because she was a warrior herself, her images always wearing a helmet, carrying shield and spear.
I overestimated the goddess’s kindness and I underestimated Glaucus. I thought I was well hidden, crouched behind one of the sacred olive trees, watching him coach my brothers as they fought one another with wooden swords. How was I to know that the old soldier still had eyesight that a hawk would envy? I didn’t suspect a thing when he casually announced that he had to go pee and for them to keep up the good work. I was still spying on Castor and Polydeuces when he circled around the far side of the olive grove and swept down on me before I knew what was going on.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded, holding me by the back of the neck as if I were a puppy and dragging me out onto the training ground. When I squirmed, he shook me until my teeth rattled. “Answer!”
“Put me down!” I shouted at him. “I’m Helen! I’m your princess! I’m going to be your queen!” My brothers had dropped their swords and stood by, snickering.
Glaucus never cracked a smile. “Are you,” he said. He set me down, but he didn’t let go of my neck. “Queens work with spindles and needles. They card wool and weave cloth. They make medicines and perfumes. Do you see any wool to be carded and spun out here? Do I smell like I use perfume?”
“You smell like you ought to!” I snapped back. He still didn’t laugh, but I saw that grim mouth creep up just a bit at the corners.
“Why don’t you go back to the citadel and make me some, then,” he said. “Or would you rather tell me what’s brought you here?”
“I want to learn how to fight!” I declared, staring him right in the eyes to show him I wasn’t afraid.
“Even if I never have to use a sword, I want to know how. When I’m queen, I’ve got to be strong enough to protect myself. If I can’t do that, how can I protect anyone else? And if someone thinks he can control my life and my decisions just because he’s got a sword and I don’t—I want him to get a surprise.”
This time, Glaucus laughed. Laughed? He roared! I was positive he was mocking me, and that was so infuriating that, like a fool, I lost my temper. My arms were too short for my fists to reach him, but I flailed at him with my feet. I had to do something to show him that I wasn’t going to take an insult meekly, not even from a man who could throw me halfway to the citadel walls.
At my first kick, he dropped his hold on my neck, grabbed my foot in mid-arc, and had me dangling upside down in the blink of an eye. I was so startled I couldn’t even scream.
“That,” said Glaucus, “was your first lesson—keep your temper under control or it’s going to control you. Here’s your second—pick your battles.” Still holding me upside down, he turned toward my brothers. Castor and Polydeuces were now laughing so hard that they’d fallen over and were rolling on the ground. Quietly and gently, Glaucus set me on my feet and gave me one of the boys’ discarded swords. His eyes flicked meaningfully from me to them.