Wild-Eyed

Prologue

My name is Cassandra, or Alexandra, if you prefer.  If you've heard much about the Trojan War, you probably recognize me.  Perhaps you have some vague recollection of a daughter of Priam whom Apollo cursed with his blessing.  Maybe you remember a story of a madwoman, raving and rolling her eyes, her hair about her ears, thought insane.  Or perhaps you have only heard of a girl who tried to save her city, and failed.

Probably you have not heard of the Phrygian prince who gave his life for love of a foreign woman, or the young and lovely princess whose naïveté did not allow her to fully comprehend the terrors of war, or the traitor-brother who helped the enemy destroy his own family.  You may have only heard of the great warrior Achilles, the clever Odysseus, the warmongering Agamemnon, of the coward Paris, and of Hector, tamer of horses.  Too often, I think, the tales of the men dominate the stories, as their deeds govern the lives of their female counterparts, but perhaps also you have heard of Helen, the most beautiful woman in the world, and of maternal Andromache, of faithful Penelope… 

No matter what you have heard, it is a lie, or at the very least it is not the entire truth.  Only one other person knows so much of the truth as I, and he…

But that is another part of the story.  And I am here to tell you all of it.  If, at the end, you still choose to think me mad, or histrionic… well, that is your choice.  But for the time being, indulge me a bit, and listen to the tale of Troy from one who knows.