Author: Sabine Hawks & Alma Aciginada
Rating: R
Characters: All of the major characters left alive at the end of the film and a few new ones.
Feedback: Yes, please!

(1)
Paris did not dare look behind him. The smell of ashen wood and burning flesh permeated the night air. He had no time to think about it. His feet felt like dead weights as he dragged them along the cave leading to the mouth of the cove. He tried to move the others along. There were women crying, children screaming, and he noticed he was the only man of his age amongst them aside from Aeneas. The others, men so old and boys so young that they needed to be carried, made up the rest of the party while the ones his age remained behind fighting Agamemnon's army to the death. He wondered how far they would get without Achilles to lead them, but then, he thought, they penetrated the walls of Troy without their prized warrior.

He cursed himself for not having taken matters into his own hands. Were Hector still alive, he would have pushed Agamemnon's army back across the borders, he would have shown little mercy for his enemies. But no, that's not how it would have been, said the little voice inside Paris' head. Hector would have opened his arms to a foreign army, Hector would have shown the utmost respect for their king. No, it was not his elder brother that Paris imagined; it was himself, himself as he wished to be. He would no longer be his brother's shadow, but rather Hector's shadow would walk beside him. A scream alerted Paris to his senses.

"The ships have been set aflame, my lord!" screamed Andromache. As he rounded the corner to face the ocean, he saw his sister-in-law standing awestruck before an inferno of burning battle ships in the distance. His father's vessels swayed helplessly side to side atop the rough Aegean Sea like nothing more than toys in a child's bath. "Where shall we go?"

His nephew Scamandrius held on to his mother's bosom, fast asleep, unaware of the turmoil being unleashed around him. Andromache's eyes looked dark, her irises drowned by hopelessness.

Paris turned his head instinctively, but there was no Hector beside him, no Priam. He was on his own. He had asked Aeneas to lead his people, but had returned after collecting his cousin. Just like a coward to turn his back on his people. One kill would not suffice. It would not make him a suitable replacement heir. Not that there was a throne to return to.

Several pairs of frightened eyes looked to him for an answer. He had none. He looked around him, waiting for the Gods to signal him to some sheltered corner. Surely there had to be something left of Troy, but he knew the Spartans would leave nothing standing. He fought back the urge to weep and in that moment found some strength.

"If you are able, we shall head towards the Falls," he said. His voice sounded foreign to him. He felt it was his brother's voice speaking through him.

"But the Falls are perilous," said Briseis. He had nearly forgotten about his cousin since he'd rescued her. She seemed sad and small beside him, like a wounded fawn.

"I know them well. Hector and I spent much time there as children. The Spartans won't dare lead their horses there lest they wish to meet their deaths." Many had met an untimely death at the Great Falls of Leones. In an otherwise flat land, the Falls appeared suddenly over the horizon and dipped into a bottomless canyon. Anyone riding fast and furious was certain to fall over. Hector had shown Paris the paths leading through the Falls, paths that had served as escape routes for the Trojans in the centuries before his time. There was no telling what condition they were now in, but it was their only hope.

"Lead us, my lord," said Andromache, a proud smile upon her face as she recognized her deceased husbands will.

Victory. Even now, leagues and leagues out at sea, Eudorus could see Troy burning. The smoke was still rising thickly in the morning after the final siege and the wind was blowing the heavy, charred scent out over the water. He wondered where Achilles was now, how many men were still falling from his blade and how many were yet to be slain. He wondered too what Agamemnon would do to the royal family once they were found in the upper palace–-surely they would be killed or perhaps taken prisoner and brought back to Greece. How could Achilles manage to save Briseis again from Agamemnon's pride and wrath?

Eudorus felt a pang of bitterness. Just like Achilles to send the Mermidans home before the final battle took place. He and the remainder of his men would never know the glory that Achilles found now, they would not stand inside the walls of Troy and watch the city burn to ash. Perhaps it was better this way–-no more men had been killed for the greed of the king, already Patroclus and numerous other fine warriors had been sacrificed for Agamemnon's vision, Achilles was right to ensure no more would die for a tainted dream.

There would be one more stop before they turned their sails for home-–they needed food and supplies for ship repairs and the nearest port was down the coast from Troy. Eudorus was eager to hear the tales of the men that had breeched the walls of the city and he meant to tarry in town, waiting for whatever heroes stopped there before sailing for Greece. He wanted desperately to speak with Odysseus, for there was a good chance he knew of Achilles or would even bear him on his ship. Not only did he wish to speak with Achilles, he also craved a hot bath and the company of a woman; his men had wives and families to return to, he had no such welcome to look forward to.

"Captain!"

Eudorus spun around, a man rowing was pointing to the east, where a tower of flame and smoke rose from an unseen body of water. He crossed to the side of the ship, squinting into the bright horizon as he tried to estimate the fire's position.

"It could be neighboring villages, or could it be Troy's armada?" a soldier had come to stand beside his captain.

"That is likely, it would not surprise me if Agamemnon thought to find out their ships so that none might escape-–but where are the ships docked?"

"Perhaps a river, they would be wise to conceal their ships somewhere out of our sight."

"Yes, after we reach the port I will take a few men to find where those ships make their birth, it will allow us a few days of rest and a chance to see the Trojan countryside without fear of battle. I doubt there are any Trojan men left to give us trouble...and if we come across their women and children we shall toss them into the sea."