And still the fight went on, and sorrow came to many from the slaying of that day. [Illustration: Mars, like a thunder-cloud, swept upwards through the sky to Olympus (page 52) CHAPTER V HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE From where the battle still raged went Hector, son of Priam. At the oak tree by the gates of Troy there came running to meet him wives and daughters of those who fought. For eagerly did they long for tidings of many a warrior who now lay dead on the field. When he reached the beautiful, many-pillared palace of his father, his mother came to meet him. His hand she took in hers, and gently spoke she to him. ‘Art thou wearied that thou hast left the battle, Hector, my son?’ she said. ‘Let me bring thee wine that thou may’st be refreshed and yet gain strength.’ ‘Bring me no wine, dear mother,’ said Hector, ‘lest it take from me the strength and courage that I have. Rather go thou to the temple of Athene and offer her sacrifices, beseeching that she will have mercy on Troy and on the wives of the Trojans and their little children. So may she hold back Diomedes the destroyer. I go to Paris--would that he were dead!’ And the mother of Hector straightway, with other old women, the mothers of heroes, offered sacrifices and prayers to Athene. But Athene paid no heed. To the palace of Paris, his mighty bronze spear in his hand, then strode Hector. Paris, the golden-haired, sat in a room with Helen, idly handling his shining shield and breastplate and curved bow. In bitter scorn spoke Hector to his brother. ‘Our people die in battle for thy sake!’ he cried, ‘while here thou sittest idle. Up then, ere the enemies that thou hast made for us burn our city to the ground!’ And Paris answered: ‘Justly dost thou chide me, Hector. Even now hath Helen urged me to play the man and go back to battle. Only let me put on my armour, and soon will I overtake thee.’ Never a word did Hector answer him. But to Hector did Helen then speak. ‘Brother Hector,’ she said, ‘unworthy am I to be sister of thine. Would that I had died on the day I was born, or would that the gods who have brought me this evil had given me for a husband one who was shamed by reproach and who feared dishonour. Rest thee here, my brother, who hast suffered so much for the sake of wretched me and for the sin of Paris. Well I know that for us cometh punishment of which men will sing in the far-off years that are yet to come.’ ‘Of thy love, ask me not to stay, Helen,’ answered Hector. ‘For to help the men of Troy is my whole heart set, and they are now in want of me. But rouse this fellow, and make him hasten after me. I go now to see my dear wife and my babe, for I know not whether I shall return to them again.’ In his own house Hector found not his fair wife Andromache, nor their little babe. ‘Whither went thy mistress?’ he asked in eagerness of the serving-women.