Beautiful War

Chapter 19 The Funeral of Pollux

I stood at the edge of the funerary pyre. The funeral pyre meant to send Pollux's soul to the underworld. I hoped that he would rest and dine in Elysian Fields with the rest of our family that was taken before their time. Our father, our mother, Castor. The man who should have been king. I hoped that Pollux would not know suffering like he did here on earth. I held the torch tightly in my hands, not knowing if I had the strength to light my brother's pyre and watch him burn. The priests had spent the last week preparing Pollux's body for the pyre. Making the proper sacrifices for his soul. Odysseus in his wisdom and grace, ceased the fighting for two weeks, much to Agamemnon's protests. At least Odysseus had honor and was willing to observe the proper rites. To allow for Pollux's funeral and games to honor his life. For me, two weeks would not be enough to grieve for my brother. I did not know how long I would be grieving my brother for, perhaps for the rest of my life. I was dressed all in black, the small owl pendant resting around my neck. It was the last gift that Pollux had ever given me. It was a wedding gift, given to me just before we departed the palace for the temple of Hera. The whole court was dressed in black, to mourn the death of my brother. Most like Hector and Aeneas tried to console me, by telling me that Pollux was a mighty warrior and his memory would remembered for centuries to come. But that would not make up for Pollux not being here with me, with those who love him the most. A shroud of darkness and sorrow descended over Troy after Pollux's death. Many Trojans had welcomed Pollux as a brother and fellow warrior. He had saved many Trojan soldiers from death. They all came out to mourn him, along with their families. They knew the kind of man he is, how brave and kind he was to all men. Both noble and common alike, we all fought this war together. Fought against the Greeks and the fury they brought with them. We built his funerary pyre at the center of the upper city, and all of Troy attended. To witness the end of a mighty Spartan warrior. I watched as Hector descended from the top of the pyre where he had put the two tetradrachm on the closed eyes of Pollux. His payment to the boatman Charon. Charon was the one who ferried the dead into Hades. He turned to meet my eyes. My eyes hurt from crying so much, but still they continued to come.

"It is time Helen. Do you wish for me to light the pyre," Hector asked softly. I shook my head. I was his sister, it was my duty to see his soul to the underworld. I looked back at Paris and met his eyes. He was holding Hermione, she was swaddled in black cloth. The rest of the royal family was behind him. Andromache was holding her own son. Hecuba and Priam stood firm, regal in their mourning attire. Both had sympathy in their eyes. I returned my gaze to the pyre. Looking up to where my brother's body lay. Washed in anointed oils and dressed in his finest suit of armor. His sword was given to me as a gift. It was strapped to my side. A reminder of what I lost. Hector stood by my side. I took a deep breath.

"Goodbye brother, may your soul find peace in Elysium. Tell mother, father, and Castor that I love them and miss them," I whispered. I felt a soft breeze across my cheek, as if Pollux was here with me. I felt a small smile on my lips before setting the pyre on fire. I stepped back, to stand next to Hector. All of Troy watched as Pollux, prince and general of Sparta burned. I shook my head, Pollux may have been born a prince of Sparta. But he became a prince of Troy. I felt someone wrap their arms around my waist. I turned my head and saw it was Andromache. I leaned into her touch, grateful for her support. We continued to hold one another as the fire continued to consume the wood and turned it into ash.

Soon, the pyre was nothing more than ash and a few pieces of smoldering wood. Andromache let me go and walked over to a pile of ash. Bending down, not caring that her dress was becoming dirty. She removed something small from her gown. She grabbed a handful of ash and put it in something. I could not tell what it was, as her back was turned. Once she was done, Andromache stood up and returned to my side. She took my hand and pressed something into it. Her gaze was soft as it met mine.