Troy: Modern Times

by WeAreOnlyHalfwayHome93

"If they ever tell my story, let them say I walked with giants." I don't own anything.

We are haunted by the intensity of eternity. And so we ask: will our actions echo for centuries? Will strangers hear our names long after we're gone and wonder who we were? How bravely did we fight? How strong was our love?

The sun shone down brightly on the thirty or so men standing in the abandoned parking lot. They were divided equally, fifteen men on the left side and fifteen men on the right. Steam billowed from the hot tar.

On the left side stood the Greeks. A large gang led my Greg Magnon. The Greeks were based largely out of Northern Louisiana. Greg had captured many gang territories in his quest to rule over all of Louisiana's criminals.

On the right stood the Thessaly's. Another gang based out of western Louisiana, a part that Greg had yet to gain control of. The Thessaly's were led by Theo Tyborn, a leader who refused to be concord without a fight.

Greg began to walk forward toward Theo. The stopped in the middle of the parking lot and gazed at each other. Theo looked over Greg's shoulder to his small army. "Get your men out of my territory." Greg smirked and chuckled before gazing up at the sky. He looked back at Theo, his eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses. "Good day for the birds." Theo rolled his neck and shoulders.

Greg examined all of Theo's men. "Why? I like you territory, I think we'll stay. I like your men too." Theo narrowed his eyes. "They won't fight for you." Greg nodded his head slightly. "That's what the Madras said, and the Acadians, and the Opeins." Greg pulled his lips into a cold smirk. "They all fight for me now."

Theo shook his head. "You can't have the whole state, Greg Magnon. It's too big. Even for you." Greg laughed out loud. He straightened and dramatically wiped his eyes. "I don't want to watch another massacre. Let's settle this the old fashioned way. Your best, against my best." Theo straightened. "And if my man wins?" Greg shrugged, knowing his man wouldn't lose. "We'll leave your territory for good."

Theo smirked and turned his head to the side slightly. "Nathaniel!" A monster of a man shoved through the small crowd of men. Greg looked him up and down, nodding slightly as he did so. Greg smirked. "Achilles!" The men were quiet.

Greg viciously turned around. Theo smirked triumphantly. "Nathan has this effect on many men." Greg turned savagely turned him and sneered. "Be careful who you insult." Then a young man swiftly ran from the center of the crowd to Greg. Greg wrapped a large hand around his throat and pulled him inches from his face.

"Achilles is not with the men." The man stuttered. Greg growled low in his throat. "Where is he?" He whispered dangerously. "I sent…the boy…to look for him." The man gasped. Greg tightened his grip before releasing him.

A small teenager who couldn't have been any older then thirteen stepped off of his old bicycle. He walked up onto the small deck of the dingy motel and hesitantly twisted the knob the room 204.

He peeked his head around the corner and gulped audibly. He took careful steps into the room and carefully approached the sleeping figures. When he reached the side of the bed, his hand slowly reached forward to touch the shoulder of the sleeping man who couldn't have been any older then 20.

The man's hand suddenly shot out and the boy gasped. He lifted his head and looked up blearily at the boy. "I was having a good dream." The boy gulped. "Greg Magnon has sent for you." The boy said quietly. The man let go of his wrist and rested his head back on the bed; the woman on his right twitched but didn't wake.

"Tell him it can wait till morning." The second woman turned her head to the opposite side. The boy swallowed. "But, it is morning." The man looked up at the boy again before looking out the still open door. He sighed before raising himself up slightly off the bed.

They exited the room, the boy trailing behind the man like a puppy. The man had dressed and was securing his hunting knives in their sheaths. "Are the stories true? They say you can't be killed." The man looked at the boy. "If that were true, I wouldn't be bothering with guns then would I." The boy didn't say anything.

The man arranged his belongings carefully on the back of his motorcycle. "The Thessalonian you're fighting…He's the biggest man I've ever seen. I wouldn't want to fight him." Achilles looked down at the boy and smirked before climbing onto his motorcycle. "That's why no one will remember your name." The boy watched as he disappearing into the distance.

When Achilles arrived at the parking lot, Greg and his second were standing a few paces away from the small army. Achilles stepped off of his motorcycle and walked towards the men. Greg narrowed his eyes at him. "I should have you beat for you ignorance." Achilles stopped and looked at him.

He turned back around as if to leave but was stopped by Greg's second. "Lex," He looked over at the sound of his first name. "Look at these men." Achilles glanced at every face in the crowd in front of him.

"You can save them. You can let them see another day. Let them go home to their families." Achilles glared at the second and pivoted facing the opposite army.

He walked towards Greg and threw off his leather jacket and dropped it at his feet. He pulled his guns from his shoulder holsters and dropped them on top of his jacket. "Imagine a leader who fights his own battles." He strode towards Nathan. "Wouldn't that be a sight?" Greg watched him walk away.

His second came up beside him and rested his hands on his hips. Greg folded his arms. "Of all the warriors loved by the men, I hate him the most." His second laughed.

Achilles slowly walked. Nathan turned and shouted a war cry, exciting the men. Achilles pulled out a butterfly knife and began to twirl it artfully in his hand. He hastened to a fast walk. Nathan turned around and pulled a hunting knife from his waist. He twirled it in his fingers and walked towards Achilles. Achilles sped to a patient jog. Nathan threw the knife at him. Achilles deftly ducked and began to run. Nathan threw another knife, which Achilles dodged again. Achilles sprinted towards the other fighter. Nathan drew a gun and at the same moment that he aimed at Achilles, Lex leapt into the air and stuck his butterfly knife and a hunting knife he'd pulled out earlier into the chest of the fighter.

Achilles slowed to a calm walk towards the opposing men and stopped in front of them at the same moment that their man fell face down dead on the hot pavement. They stood there staring dumbstruck at the lean soldier who'd killed their greatest fighter.

"Is there no one else?" Achilles asked calmly. He was greeted with silence. "Is there no one else?" He shouted. Theo slowly approached him. "Who are you soldier?" He asked in awe. Achilles sparred a quick glance at him. "Lex Achilles." Theo nodded before handing the Thessalonians gang colors to Achilles. "Give this to your leader." Achilles turned away from Theo. "He is not my leader."

In Northern Louisiana, two sons of Governor Pierce Paris of Troy, Louisiana in the boot heel of Louisiana sat in the presence of the local crime boss of the northern territory, Matty Magnon.

Hector was the oldest of Pierces' sons at 23. He had long dark hair and piercing dark green eyes. He was strong physically and mentally. He was intelligent and not naïve like his brother. Logan Paris was Hectors brother and Pierces' youngest son at 21. He was a beautiful boy with short dark hair that matched his brothers and bright blue eyes that contrasted well. He was naïve and somewhat cowardly, leaving his brother to fight his battles. People tended to call him Paris as they reminded him greatly of the legendary Prince of the Ancient city with the same name.

Matty stood and held his wine glass a loft. "Princes of Troy." They were often called Princes ever since their father went into his third term as Louisiana's governor.

Hector and Logan stood and held their glasses aloft. "On our last night together," He turned his head to the beautiful blonde woman beside him. "Helen and I salute you." Logan glanced quickly at the blonde woman.

Helen was beautiful with long blonde hair that gleamed in the dim light. Her blue eyes would quickly gaze every once in a while to Logan Paris. She was slim and tall and sat with her back straight.

Helen was thought of as Matty's woman. It was blatantly obvious to everyone that she didn't enjoy being by his side but she was powerless against him.

"May God keep the thieves in the hills and the women in our beds." Hector smiled and nodded his head. Their father had wished to make peace with the violent crime lord. Hector and Paris were sent by their father to make peace with Matty.

Hector sat back down, as did Logan. Helen glanced quickly up at Logan who took a careful drink of his wine. Hector set his glass down and licked his lips as the celebrations went on around him.

Shortly after Matty had toasted Hector and Paris, Helen stood up and walked up the stairs on the far left of the dining room. Hector stood up to stretch his legs and Paris soon followed.

Hector watched as his brother quickly climbed the stairs that Helen had disappeared up only moments before. He turned his back on the steps and took a deep breath before bringing his wine glass to his lips.

Helen sat in front of her oak vanity. Her fingers gently combed through her long hair. She didn't turn when she heard the door open. She knew who it was. "You should not have come here tonight." She whispered after she heard the lock click. "That's what you said last night." She stood and turned to him. "Last night was a mistake." He stepped towards her and cupped her face in his hands. "And the night before?" He whispered. She turned her head away from him. "I've made many mistakes this week."

Paris came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. She turned back around to face him and gripped his wrists. She pushed away from his slightly and rested her hands on the straps of her dress. She carefully pushed them off of her shoulders until she stood naked before him.

Paris pulled her to him and kissed her fiercely. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and stood on her toes to deepen the kiss.

Hector glanced back up at the stairs, several moments after his brother had disappeared up them. He looked over his shoulder when he heard a loud shriek and saw Matty with a woman who wasn't Helen sitting on his lap. Hector took another drink from his wine glass and entered the other room.

Paris knelt by the bedside gazing at her body, naked as the day she was born, a sheet wrapped loosely around his waist. He held up a beautifully crafted pearl necklace and Helen sat up. "Pearls from the Gulf of Mexico." Helen pulled her hair over her shoulder and let him fasten the clip. She lightly touched them with her fingertips. "They're beautiful." She looked up at him, saddened. "But I could never wear them. Matty would kill us both."

Paris wrapped her hands in his larger ones. "Don't be afraid of him." Helen shook her head. "I'm not afraid of dying. I'm afraid of tomorrow. I'm afraid of watching you drive away and knowing you'll never come back. Before you came, I was a ghost. I walked and I ate and I swam in the lakes but I was just a ghost." Paris tilted her head up to his. "You don't have to fear tomorrow. Come with me." Helen shook her head at him. "Don't play with me. Don't play." She whispered.

Paris shook his head and bent his head to meet her eyes. "If you come with me, we'll never be safe. Men will hunt us, women will curse us, but I'll love you. Until the day I die, I'll love you." "He will find us." Helen whispered. "Then I'll make it easy for him to find me. I'll walk right up to him and tell him you're mine." Helen leaned in gently and kissed his lips tenderly.

Hector stood in the gas station parking lot that they had stopped in on their way back home. He carefully carved a small wooden lion with his pocketknife. He felt rather than saw Paris approach him. "Do you love me, brother?" Hector glanced over at him. "Will you protect me from any enemy?" Hector turned his whole body to face his brother and crossed his arms. "The last time you spoke to me like this you were ten years old and you had just stolen fathers gun." He tilted his head to the side. "What have you done now?"

Paris looked nervously at his older brother. "I must show you something." Hector hesitantly followed his little brother to the back of his car. Paris pulled open the door and peered inside. A hooded figure sat in the very back seat with their delicate hands folded in their lap. Paris took their hand and ushered them outside the car. They lifted their head and Hector sighed. Helen Ledaus stood before him in a black hood.

Matty shoved open the doors to Helen's room with five armed men behind him. Her maid stood from her place at the vanity. Matty wrapped one large hand around her throat and pressed her back against the edge of the vanity. "Where is she?" He snarled through gritted teeth.

The maid trembled under his gaze but said nothing. He pulled out a pistol and pressed the barrel to her temple, pulling back the trigger. "I swear to God, I'll kill you where you stand if you don't tell me now!" He shouted.

She whimpered but still said nothing. A member of Matty's gang roughly shoved a resident of Shreveport into the room. "She left with the Trojan's, Matty." He turned as his friend spoke and the man gestures to the old resident that trembled under Matty's gaze. "The old man saw her get in their van."

Matty released the maid and turned fully to the group at the door. "The Trojans?" He whispered. The old man nodded. "With the young prince, Paris. She…" Matty cut him off as he strode towards the group.

Before he completely exits the room, he turns to his men. "Get my car ready." He says calmly, surprising everyone in the room. He leaves and walks down the hall.

Hector stormed away from the vehicle and Paris followed. Their drivers came out of the gas station and approached the vehicles. "Turn around! Back to Shreveport!" Hector shouted to his driver. "Brother please!" Paris shouted. Hector turned quickly and threw back his fist, hitting his brother in the face, his physical power obvious.

He turned away from him and ran his hands through his hair, gripping it by the roots. Paris stood and probed his bottom lip with his tongue, tasting blood. "Brother." Hector turned at his brother's voice and there was fire in his eyes. "Do you know what you've done?" He cried. Paris slowly approached his older brother.

"Do you?" Hector deflated. Paris stopped a few feet from him. "I love her, Hector." Hector's muscles bulged against his tightened jaw. "You say another word and I'll break your arm." Paris flinched slightly and it didn't go unnoticed by Hector.

"This is all a game to you isn't it. For years our father has tried to make peace with Magnon and you go and ruin it in not even a days' time. You go from town to town bedding army wives and nuns. You think you know something about love? What about you father's love?" Paris looked at the ground. "You spat on that when you brought her on this ship. What about love for your city?" Paris looked away but Hector gripped his hair and forced his to make eye contact. "You'd let Troy burn for this woman. She's going back."

Hector shoved past Paris and began walked back to the van. "May I speak?" Hector stopped and turned to him. "What you say is true. I've wronged you and dad. If you want to take Helen back to Shreveport, fine. But I go with her."

Hector narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath. He turned to Logan. "He'll have an army waiting for you. They'll kill you." Paris nodded. "Then I'll go down fighting." Hector scoffed. He approached his brother. "That sounds romantic to you doesn't it? To die fighting. Tell me, have you ever killed a man?" He asked. "No." "Have you ever seen a man die?" "No" Hector's face begins to harden with anger. "Have you ever heard men dying?" Logan shook his head. Hector nodded.

He gripped his brother's hair and pulled his head up to look at him. "I've killed men. I've heard them dying, I've seen them dying. There's nothing heroic about it, nothing poetic." Hector scolded.

"I love her." Hector rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. "You say you're willing to die for love but you know nothing about dying and you know nothing about love!" Logan watched his brother pace. "I'm not asking you to fight my war for me." Hector glared over at his brother. "You already have." He pushed past him and walked back to the vans. "To Troy!"

Several trucks and motorcycles were parked outside of a large mansion in southern Alexandria. Matty and his band of warriors walked swiftly up the gravel path to a large mansion that over looked much of the city. Matty pushed open the iron gates and walked up the path.

When they entered the main hall, many men were already gathered there. Matty didn't stop or slow until he stood before his brother. Greg stood and embraced him. "Your man came yesterday with the news. I'm sorry, little brother." Matty's rage is barely suppressed through his hard mask.

"I want her back." He growls. Greg pats his shoulder. "Of course you do. She's a beautiful woman." Matty tenses. "I want her back so I can kill her with my own two hands. I won't rest until Troy is burned to the ground." Greg suppresses a smirk.

"I thought you wanted peace with Troy." Matty shakes his head. "I should have listened to you." Greg nods and leads his brother away from the rest of the group. "Peace is for women. Empires are forged by war." Matty stares intently at his brother. "All my life I stood by your side and fought your enemies. You're older you get the recognition. That's the way it works. But have I ever complained?" Greg shook his head, smiling. "Have I ever asked you for anything?" Greg smirked. "No. You have honor. Everyone knows this."

Matty shook his head and frowned. "The Trojans spat on my honor. Any insult to me is an insult to you." Greg narrowed his eyes and smiled darkly. "And an insult to me is an insult to my armies." Matty nodded. "Will you go to war with me brother?" Greg smirked and slapped his brother's shoulder and nods.

It's late in the night and Greg sits in his conference room with his wise second in command. The old man stares intently at his face. Greg has his face covered with one hand with the other casually taps the polished wood of the table before him.

"I always thought my brother's woman was foolish. But she's proven to be very useful." Greg uncovered his face and stood. "Nothing brings people together like a common enemy." His second, Nestor nodded.

"Hector leads the largest gang in Troy. The Trojans have never been conquered. Some say they can't be." Greg shook his head and thoughtfully paced the long room. "I haven't tried yet." He stopped. "The police will never get involved. Pierce has them in his pocket. Hector's killed hundreds of men and he's never seen a courtroom. Nothing will happen if Pierce doesn't want it to." Greg barked out one long laugh. "He's like a king. Ruling over everything in the city." Nestor nodded.

"If Troy falls, I control Louisiana." Greg became giddy with excitement. Nestor stood and held up a hand. "Again, Hector controls the largest gang in the state. And Troy is built to withstand a ten-year siege." Greg turned to him and stared. "There won't be a ten-year siege. I'll attack them with the greatest force the country has ever seen. I want all the gang lords of Louisiana and all their armies."

Greg walked towards the door and stopped. He looked back at Nestor. "Send letters in the morning." Greg prepares to leave. "One last thing." Nestor calls. Greg turns and stands in the doorway. "We'll need Achilles and his men." Greg's eyes widened. "Achilles can't be controlled. He's as likely to fight us as the Trojans." Greg reentered the room and paced again.

"We don't need to control him. We need to unleash him. That man was born to end lives." Greg stared at Nestor. "Yes, he's a gifted killer, but he follows no one. He threatens everything I've built."

Greg rubbed his hands hard over his face before running them roughly through his golden hair. "Before me, Louisiana was nothing. I've brought all the crime lords together, with a gun when needed, with a treaty when possible. I've created a state of crime worshippers and knife wielders." He stopped pacing and turned to Nestor. "I build the future, Nestor. Achilles is the past, a man who fights for no flag, a man who fights for no gang."

Greg took up pacing again, with his hands behind his back. "Your words are true, but how many battles have we won off the edge of his knife? This will be the greatest crime war the country has ever seen. We need the greatest warrior."

Greg stops in front of the floor to ceiling windows and stares out at the busy streets in the dark of night. Finally, he turns to Nestor with his hands on his hips. "There's only one man he'll listen too." Nestor smirked and pulled out his cell phone. "I'll call now."

Two men walked up the great hill in the small town of Athens. Otto Seas was the strongest crime boss in the town and the most respected. He cared for his people and killed those who didn't.

The two men stopped in front of a man sitting on the side of the road, a dog at his feet. The man scratched behind its ears and smiled up at the two men. "Hello, we were told Otto Seas is here on the hills."

The man looked down at his dog and smiled. "Otto? That old bastard drinks my beer and never pays." The two men tensed. "You should respect your leader, friend." One of the men said. The man gazed up at him. "Respect him? I'd like to punch him in the face. He's always pawing at my woman, trying to tear her clothes off." The two men looked embarrassed and, nodding, began to walk away.

To his dog, the man said, "I hope Magnon's generals are smarter then his messengers." One of the men turned back and stared hard at the man who was still looking at his dog. "What did you say?" The man didn't look up. "You want me to help fight the Trojans." The men exchanged confused glances. "You're…"

The man stood and stared at them, the recognition dawning. "We're so sorry." Otto looks down at his dog. "Well, I'm going to miss my dog." The men exchanged glances again. "Greg Magnon has a favor to ask of you." Otto snorts and rolls his eyes. "Of course he does."

In an abandoned ivy colored warehouse just outside the borders of Homer, Louisiana, Lex Achilles teaches his sixteen year old cousin Patrick Liess how to spar in hand to hand combat.

Achilles swiftly takes down Patrick. "You're getting fat cousin." Patrick gets free of the hold and pushed Achilles away. Achilles in a deft and efficient fighter, blocking blow after blow. "Fancy. The girls must be impressed." He says.

Patrick strikes furiously and lunges. Achilles sidesteps and ducks as a fist come flying towards his face. Patrick pushes Achilles against the wall and wraps and hand loosely around his cousins neck. "A little nervous?" Achilles smirks. "Petrified." He says.

He removes Patrick's hand from his throat and delivers blow after quick blow. When Patrick ends up on the cold ground, Achilles lifts his head and appears to be listening. He stands and pulls his pistol from the holster at the small of his back. He points his gun at the far left corner and fires one shot that embeds in the brick, spreading red dust.

Achilles stares at the far left corner. Otto steps out from behind the wall and smirks. Achilles smiles and walks towards him. "Your hospitality is quickly becoming legend." Achilles laughs. "I don't like that smile, friend. That's the smile you give when you want me to fight in another war."

Otto nods and looks at Patrick. Achilles looks over at him and points to Patrick. "Patrick, my cousin. Otto, crime boss of Athens." Otto reaches his hand out to Patrick. "Patrick Liess. I knew your parents well." Patrick looks down. "I miss them."

Patrick nods and slowly walks away. Otto looks at Achilles. "Now you have this one looking after you. Learning from Achilles himself. Every boy in Louisiana must be jealous." Otto looks away from Patrick. "We need to talk."

Achilles nods. "Tell me your not here at Magnon's bidding?" Otto looks down quickly. Achilles shakes his head and looks away, picking up a water bottle at his feet. "How many times have I done the dirty work of the leader of bosses and when has ever shown me the respect I've earned?"

Otto shook his head. "I'm not asking you to fight for him. I'm asking you to fight for the Greeks." Achilles snorted. "Why? Are the Greeks tired of fighting each other?" Otto smirked and walked towards him. "For now." Achilles shook his head and spit the water from his mouth onto the floor watching Patrick as he punched a punching bag in the corner. "The Trojans never did anything to me." Otto raised his eyebrows and nodded. "They insulted Louisiana." Achilles made a face. "They insulted one Louisianaian, a man who couldn't hold onto his woman. What business is that of mine?"

"Your business is war, my friend." Otto said. Achilles stared out the window. "Is it?" Otto could hear the anger in his tone. "Am I the whore of the battlefield? Can my gun be bought and sold?" He took a deep breath and calmed significantly. "I don't want to be remembered as a tyrants mercenary." Otto nodded, understanding exactly where Achilles was coming from.

"Forget Magnon. Fight for me. My woman will feel better knowing you're by my side. I'll feel much better." Achilles smirked and nodded taking another swig of water. Patrick came up to them slightly out of breath. "Is Ajax going to fight?" Otto looked at the boy. "Of course. You've heard of Ajax, huh?" Patrick smirked and nodded. Otto laughed and slid his hands into his back pockets.

"They say he can take down a tree with one swing of his ax." Otto nodded his head slightly to the right. "Trees don't swing back." Achilles said. Otto glanced at Achilles before turning his attention to Patrick. "We're sending the largest caravan. Fifty cars." Patrick's eyes grew large. "Fifty cars. Prince Hector, is he as a good a fighter as they say?" Otto nodded. "The best of all the Trojans."

Otto spares a glance at Achilles who eyes him suspiciously. "Some say he's better than all the Greeks, too." Achilles snorted. "Patrick. Even if your cousin doesn't come, I hope you'll join us." Patrick's eyes widen in pride. Achilles wraps his arm tightly around Otto's shoulders appearing friendly but the power in his embrace is obvious.

He leaned slightly into Otto. "Play your tricks on me, but not my cousin." Otto looks at Achilles and smiles. "You have your guns, I have my tricks." Otto turns away and begins to walk back to the door. "We leave for Troy in three days. This war will never be forgotten. Nor will the warriors who fight in it."

Achilles narrows his eyes slightly and watches him exit the warehouse. He can feel the frustration pouring out of his cousin like steam. He looks down before back at his cousin.

Achilles stands on the banks of the lake, watching his mother gather rocks. "Mother." Mia turns to look at him, smiling. "I'd thought I'd make you another necklace." She holds up the smooth rock she'd retrieved.

It was a beautiful gray stone with carefully hidden streaks of blue and green. "I haven't worn a seashell necklace since I was a boy." Mia looks at his bare neck before looking away. "Don't you like them anymore?" Achilles spots a smooth blue rock in the mud and picks it up, handing it to his mother.

She smiled gently and takes it from him. "That's a pretty one." She says as she bends over again to search for more. "They want me for another war." Mia studiously ignores him. "Are you listening?" Mia doesn't look up. "Yes, my love. Another war." Achilles nods.

"Patrick wants to go." He said, smoothly changing the subject. "Patrick has never seen war." Achilles nods. Mia examines the rocks she has in her hands before looking up at her son.

She studied his face. He had a smooth jaw lightly touched with whiskers. His brown eyes were hard and staring. His long blond hair hung down over his eyebrows and curled around his ears. His strong arms were folded across his broad chest. His torso tapered off to lean hips and strong thighs. His calves were firm and sculpted, his long feet spread shoulder width apart.

She smiled. "If you stay here, with me, with your family, you'll have a long, peaceful life. You'll marry, you'll have children, and your children will have children. They'll love you, and when you're gone they'll remember you. But when your children are dead, and their children after them, your name will be lost." She lightly touched his cheek with her fingertips.

"If you go to Troy, no one will earn more glory than you. Men will tell stories of your victory for years. The world will remember your name." She looked away from him and retrieved another stone from the murky lake water. "But if you go to Troy, you'll never come home. You'll die there."

Achilles stares at her, his eyes burning with fire. He's waited for years to hear these words. His mother always had a knack for knowing the future. "And you know this?" Mia looked up at him and gave him a broken smile. "I know it." Achilles looks out at the lake. Mia keeps smiling even though her eyes are clouded with tears.

Vans and trucks sail down the crowded high way. Symbols and colors paint the side to signify the separate gangs. Achilles sits in the driver's seat of a black van. Patrick sits beside him in the passenger seat wearing a new necklace with a single blue-gray stone.

Hector, Logan and Helen walk through the gates of a large mansion on the highest hill in all of Troy. They walk up the gravel drive, many residents of Troy work in the mansion and they all line the walk, smiling and cheering as the Princes return. A few of them stare at the beautiful Helen as she walks beside Paris.

He grips her hand and points out several magnificent objects to her. Hector looks at the pair. Helen holds her head high and pretends to ignore the murmurs and stares of the people but she grips his brother's hand with white knuckles.

As they enter the mansion, several maids and butlers line the staircase in order to greet the brothers. Three people stand in the middle of the parlor. A man with salt-and –pepper hair and shocking blue eyes, a young girl who could be no older then twenty holding a tiny child stands with bated breath on his left, to his right stands a man with a shock of white hair and a black suit, Pierces personal assistant.

Hector smiles widely as he spots the woman and the child. He walks to them and embraces the woman tightly. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and buries her face in his neck, inhaling his scent. Hector pulls away and smiles at the child in her arms.

The child takes his finger tightly in one hand. Hector looks up at the girl. "He has a strong grip." She smiles. "He's just like his father. He even hates peas." Hector smiles and kisses her passionately for a long time.

Paris approaches the man with salt-and-pepper hair and smiles. His father embraces him and smoothes his hair. Paris pulls away. Paris holds his hand out to Helen who takes it and steps forward. "Father, this is Helen." Pierce gazes at the beautiful girl beside his youngest son.

"Helen? Helen of Shreveport?" Paris tenses. "Helen of Troy." Pierce looks at his son for a long moment, his face unreadable before turning back to Helen. "I've heard rumors of your beauty. For once, the rumors were right." Pierce kisses both of her cheeks. Helen smiles weakly and bows her head.

"Thank you, Governor." Pierce smiles and pulls away. He leads his family up the stairs and into the large den. A young girl no older seventeen enters the den and approaches the family. She's dressed in a simple white sundress and white sandals. Her long dark hair flows down her back wonderfully. Paris stands and rushes to the girl. "Bree!" The girl smiles brightly and wraps her arms tightly around the boy.

When Paris pulls away, Hector is standing behind him with open arms. Bree brightens and rushes to him. "Cousin." Hector greets and kisses the top of her head gently. "Did you miss me, little one?" Bree nods and smiles. Hector examines her dress and looks at her. "A church gown? You going into the service of the Lord." Pierce stands and approaches his son. "The young men of Troy were devastated when Bree chose to take a virgins robes." Bree looks down and blushes scarlet.

Pierce laughs and kisses her forehead. The four walk back to the couches and sit. "I thank the Lord for your safe return." Pierce says. Hector smiles and nods to his father, sitting beside the woman he approached earlier, Andrea. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and began to gently caress the babies face.

Later that night, when everyone else is asleep, Hector and Pierce walk the long halls of the mansion. "It's in God's plan. Everything is in his plan." He glances at his son, with his hand behind his back and his eyes on the floor. "But I'm surprised you let him bring her." Hector looks at his father. "If I'd let him fight Matty for her, you'd be burying a son rather then welcoming a daughter." Pierce nods and looks at his floor. "What would you have me do?" Pierce asked him. Hector shook his head as he listened to the echoes of their shoes off the walls.

"Put her in a car and send her back." Pierce walks away from his son and stands on the balcony over looking the city. "Women have always loved Paris. And he's loved them back. But this is different. Something has changed in him. If we send her back to Shreveport, Paris is sure to follow." Hector stands beside his father and rests his hands on the railing. He stares at the bustling city below him.

He turns to his father and meets his eyes. "This is my city. These are my residents. I don't want to see them suffer so my brother can have his prize. It's not just Matty's Spartan's coming after her. By now Matty has gone to Greg, and Greg's wanted to destroy us for years. Once we're out of the way he controls Louisiana."

Pierce stares at his son. "Enemies have been attacking us for years. Our walls still stand." Hector shook his head. "Father, we can't win this war." Pierce took his son by the shoulders. "God watches over us. Even Magnon is no match for him." Hector shook his head. "How many battalions does God control?" Pierce threw his son a fierce glance. "Don't mock God." Hector opens his mouth but holds his tongue.

Pierce turned his back to the city and leaned against railing of the balcony. "For thirty years I've worked for peace. Paris is a fool sometimes. I know that. But I'll fight a thousand wars before letting him die." Hector nodded and looked down at his hands gripping the rail.

"Forgive me father, but you won't be the one fighting." Pierce looks up and watches Hector leave him alone on the balcony over looking the city.

Paris paces his room as Helen sits on the edge of the bed. "They're coming for me." Paris stops pacing and looks at her. "What if we left? Tonight, right now, what if we went down to the garage, packed a car and left. Ride east, keep driving." Helen stared at him. "And go where?" Paris came up to her and placed his hands on her arms. "Away from here." Helen looked down and shook her head.

"This is your home…" Paris shook his head and crouched so she would meet his gaze. "You left your home for me." Helen looked away and sat on the small couch at the foot of the bed. "Shreveport was never my home. My parents sent me there when I was sixteen but it was never my home. What about your family?" Paris looked at her. "I'll be protecting my family." Helen shook his head and rubbed her arms. "You don't know Matty. He won't stop. They'll burn every house in Troy. Even if they don't find us, they'll burn it for spite." Paris shook his head. "Then I'll tell him you're mine." Helen cupped his face in her hands. "You're very young, my love." Paris smiled. "We're the same age." He whispered. Helen smiled. "You're younger then I ever was."

The next morning, Hector sits on the edge of the bed holding his son. Andrea sits beside him and smiles gently. Hector looks up and smiles, holding the wooden lion in his hands as his son touches the intricate carving.

Hector looks up when he hears enemy sirens sound. He hands the boy to Andrea and walks to the balcony. He looks over the city walls and watches as fifty vans and trucks approached the abandoned hotel parking lot directly across from the mansion a few blocks away. The only building in the city that marveled the size of the mansion.

Hector turns away from the balcony and leaves the room. Andrea stares out the window, watching the vehicles approach fast. The people in the streets begin to flee, running from the walls as the Trojan warriors began to close the rod iron gates.

The first van to reach the hotel lot is Achilles. He parks and leaves the drivers seat. Patrick begins to exit the vehicle but Achilles holds his door closed. "Where are you going?" Achilles asks. Patrick looks around. "To fight the Trojans." Achilles shakes his head. "You're not ready." Patrick gapes at his cousin. "I am ready." Achilles shakes his head. "I can't fight, if I'm concerned for you." Patrick slouched against the seat and stared ahead.

Achilles moved to the back of the van and armed himself. His second in command, Eric, stood at his side. "Should we wait for the others?" Achilles smirked and continued to arm himself. "They brought us here for war, didn't they?" Eric looked around. "Yes, but Magnon…" Achilles looked up at him. "Do you fight for me, Eric, or Magnon?" Eric looked at him. "For you." Achilles nodded. "Then fight for me and let the servants of Magnon fight for him." Achilles looked back at his weapons and continued to arm himself.

Magnon and Matty leaned forward and peered through the windshield. "Whose car is that?" Greg asked. Nestor leaned forward from the back seat and squinted at the car. "Black paint. Achilles."

Greg rolled his neck and sneered. "What's the fool doing? He's going to take the edges of Troy with fifteen men?"

Hector stalks into the gatehouse of the city, hundreds of his men being fitted with armor. He turns to his general, Luke, and leans in close. "How long before the army's ready?" Luke looks around him as he continues to arm himself. "Half of our men are still coming in from the perimeter. We have to arm them, we have to…" Hector shook his head. "How long?" Luke stopped and looked up at him. "Noon?" He questioned. Hector shook his head again. "Make it sooner."

Hector is hard and fast. A born leader who is greatly respected by his city men. "I want patrols to scour the city. Check every home, every hill. I want every Trojan brought inside the city walls. If they can't walk, carry them." Luke bows his head and turns away.

Hector and Luke swiftly walk down the empty streets of Troy, men quickly joining the group as they go. There are at least a hundred men in Hector's army and more join as they go. Off duty police men join in the fight, welders, cooks, bartenders, and drivers, all stand behind the mighty Hector as he leads them to the city gates.

Hector stops and turns to his men. He looks at each face as they stare strongly at him. "All my life I've lived by a code and the code is simple." Some of the men nod in understanding. "Honor your God, love your woman, and defend your city." Some of the men cheer. "Troy is mother to us all!" Hector cries. The men shout. "Fight for her!" A loud roar echoes through the empty streets.

Achilles and his man stand on the edges of the abandoned pavement. Achilles faces his men and scans each and every face. He turns to the hills of Troy before looking back at his men. With an open butterfly knife, Achilles points to the city wall. "Do you know what's waiting behind that wall?" The men stare at him. "Immortality! Take it! It's yours!" The men cheer as they run past their leader towards the high city walls.

Achilles watches his men race towards the gates and smirks as men come out from the gates. Achilles runs to the battle and fights along side his men.

Greg shakes his head in anger and disbelief. "The man wants to die!" He says, aghast. Shouts of Achilles can be heard from the parked cars as the men begin to quickly arm themselves. Greg grits his teeth and rolls his neck. Nester wraps his arm around his shoulders. "Give him this battle. You'll take the war." Greg roughly shoves him away. "Give him too many battles and the men will forget who leads." He cries.

Achilles leaps and tumbles over hills, striking down any man who comes at him. No man can seem to keep pace with Achilles.

Hector stops at the top of the hill over looking the lot and watches as his men begin to fall. Hector breaths deeply as he watches his men fall.

Achilles and his men have taken down the warriors on the lot. He turns his head and sees a small church on the outskirts of the city gates. He nods his head towards and his men understand the signal. They race towards the church and attack.

Ajax carefully watches the battle unfold. He turns to his small band of soldiers and shoves past them to arm himself. "Come on! Greeks are dying!"

Hector watches each vehicle gets closer to the city. Several have already parked on the pavement.

Hector glances down when Travis comes up beside him. "We can't hold the perimeter." Hector spots Achilles outside the small church. He nods towards it and begins to run. "They're taking the church." Travis shakes his head. "No believer would ever spill blood in God's house." Hector pulls his brows together and stops, looking back at the pavement below. He watches as Ajax, a brute of a man, storms through the men and attacks the Trojan warriors. "Bring the men back to the city." Travis nods as he gazes at the chaos below.

Hector turns to Luke and begins to run again. "Follow me!" He shouts. Luke follows, quickly matching his pace and they approach the church.

Achilles is unstoppable as he takes the church. Every time a Trojan swings at him, they fall. No man can stop him. He swiftly pulls his gun from the holster at his waist and shoots a man four feet away straight between the eyes. His face and arms quickly becomes painted with blood.

Ajax takes down every man in his path with a deadly ax. If he's injured, he quickly recovers and continues to reap destruction.

Achilles stands on the steps of the church and examines his work. Eric stands a few steps below him. Achilles looks down at him. "The church is secure." Achilles nods and looks at his men. "God is the protector of out enemy. Take whatever treasure you can find. The men roar and swiftly enter the church. Eric bites his lip. "What is it, friend?" Achilles does not look at him.

Eric gestures to the skies. "God sees everything. Perhaps it is not wise to offend him." Achilles looks at Eric. Achilles looks to the sky and then to his right when he hears gunshots fast approaching. He nods his head to the temple to signal Eric's departure.

He pulls a smooth hunting knife from the sheath at his back and flips the blade over in his hand until the tip of the knife in touching the palm of his hand. He throws the knife with impossible speed and hits his target with impossible accuracy. Luke falls to the ground, dead, the knife imbedded to the hilt in his chest.

Hector stares at his fallen general in shock. Achilles smirks from his position 100 yards away. Hector turns back to the church and sprints the rest of the way. Achilles waits until they're fifty yards away before walking slowly into the church.

Hector and his men come to a slow walk at the top of the stairs and proceed with great caution into the church. Evidence of looting is scattered across the stone floors. Hector stops at the stairs that lead to the altar. Blood trickles down the stairs and Hector slowly raises his eyes.

With his feet shoulder width apart and his hands holding to guns pointed at the ground, is Achilles, standing on the altar. He stares down at Hector.

Chaos ensues as Achilles' soldiers appear from their hiding places in the dark halls of the church. Hector's men fight well in hand-to-hand combat. Two of Achilles' men run towards Hector but he waits until the last possible moment to cut them down with killing wounds.

Achilles watches before he disappears into the back room. Hector soon follows. Hector finds the bodies of two priests, lying on the chapel floor. Sitting on the chapel altar, is Achilles. He is a sight; with blood spatters covering his body and two knifes still dripping. "You're either very brave or very stupid to come after me." He points a knife at Hector. "You must be Hector." Hector waits a moment before kneeling next to the closest priest. "A private audience with the Prince of Troy. I'm flattered. Do you know who I am?"

Hector glances up at Achilles after closing the eyes of the dead men. "These priests weren't armed." Achilles jumps down from the altar. He walks to the door leading outside. "I didn't kill them. Cutting old men's throats…there's no honor in that." Hector scoffs. "Honor? Children and fools fight for honor. I fight for my city." He charges. Achilles steps back slightly into the room and smiles, looking almost playful. "Fight me." Hector says. Achilles walks back to the door. "Why kill you now, Prince of Troy, with no one here to see you fall?" He disappears.

Hector follows and blinks against the bright light. Achilles stands on the balcony of the church and over looks the fighting men. "Why did you come here?" Achilles looks at him. "In a hundred years they'll be talking about this war." Hector shakes his head. "In a hundred years, we'll be bones." Achilles chuckles and looks back at the men.

"Yes, prince, but our names will remain." Achilles' men enter the balcony and approach. Hector warily backs off. Achilles walks around him in a slow circle. "Go home, prince. Drink some wine, make love to your woman. Tomorrow, we'll have our war." Hector shakes his head. "You speak of war as if it's a game. But how many women wait at Troy's gate for men they'll never see again?" Achilles smirks at him. "Perhaps your brother can comfort them. I hear he's good at charming other men's women." Hector stares at Achilles before slowly walking away.

Eric approaches Achilles and watches Hector disappear. "Why did you let him go?" Achilles looks at him. "It's too early in the day to be killing princes."

Soldiers on the edges of Troy watches as her warriors disappear up the hills. Achilles steps back out onto the front steps of the church and looks at the hundreds of men lining the pavement. Hector watches from a distance. Achilles raises his arms above his head and the cheer is deafening. Shouts of his name ring throughout the city.

Achilles walks the streets they have over run and follows his men to their makeshift vamp site. Ajax approaches from his left and matches his strides. "You're as fearless as God." Achilles smirks and shakes his hand. "God is immortal. What does he have to fear?" Ajax smiles. "I'm honored to go to war with you." Achilles smiles wider. "I don't have to worry about my back with you behind me." Ajax smiles and nods in thanks.

Ajax retreats to his own camp and Achilles notices Otto just arriving. "If you'd driven any slower the war would be over." Otto looks up and smirks. "I don't mind missing the beginning as long as I'm here at the end." Achilles smiles and continues walking.

Patrick greets him as they approach Achilles' tent. "We have something to show you." Eric says. Achilles watches him for a moment before coming up behind him. Eric holds open the tent flap and Achilles hesitates before walking inside.

Loot from the church stacks the back of the large tent. Achilles does not look at the treasure but rather at the young girl tied to the center pole of the tent. Her wrists bound behind her back as she looks in the direction away from him. Her long dark hair has fallen from its messy bun and her cheeks are dirty and wet. Her white dress is filthy and she's barefoot.

"The men found her hiding in the church. They'd thought she'd…amuse you." Achilles glances at his general before nodding. Eric leaves the tent and Achilles approaches a small table with a large bowl of water rested on it.

He glances at the girl as he removes his blood stained t-shirt. "What's your name?" The girl turns her hard and hateful brown eyes to him but doesn't answer. Achilles rolls his eyes as he pulls a washcloth from the floor and wets it. "You're safer in here then out there, believe me."

The girl continues to stare at him before she looks away. Achilles sets his mouth in a grim line, not used to being ignored. "You killed the priests." Achilles huffs slightly and smiles. "I've killed men in five states, never a priest." She swivels her head in his direction. "Then your men did." Her voice shakes slightly. Achilles does not look at her. "God will have his vengeance." Achilles flings a handful of water towards her before removing his jeans leaving him naked before her.

She blushes and looks away attempting to keep her gaze from the beautiful man naked before her. "What's he waiting for?" The girl stares at him. "The right time to strike." Achilles chuckles quietly and the girl huffs. "His priests are dead and his nuns a captive." He looks over to her as he quickly pulls on sweats. "I think your God is afraid of me." She laughs bitterly. "Afraid? He's master of the universe. He fears nothing." Achilles slowly approaches her; his body still caked with sweat, dirt, and blood. "Then where is he?" He asks spreading his arms.

She looks away and licks her lips. Achilles turns back to the water and begins to scrub his torso. "You're nothing but a killer. You don't know anything about God." Achilles stops and looks over his shoulder at her. "You're not even 18 and you think you know me? I know more about God then your priests could ever teach you." He turns to face her and crouches beside her. She backs away as much as she can with her hands bound. "You're royalty aren't you?" He gently takes a lock of her hair and twirls the smooth strands between his fingers. "You must be royalty."

She looks at him. "You've spent years talking down to men. What's your name?" She still does not answer him. He takes a knife from around his ankle and flips it open. She looks away, anticipating pain but stares at him when her wrists are released. She rubs the red marks around them and watches him. "Even the servants of God have names." He whispers. She takes a deep breath and opens her mouth. "Bree Ceres." Achilles nods.

"Are you afraid, Bree?" She pulls her eyebrows together. "Should I be?" Achilles says nothing. Eric then sticks his head inside the tent. "Achilles." Achilles leans his body towards the door, not able to remove his gaze from the beautiful girl before him. "What is it?"

Eric watches him. "Magnon requests the leaders presence at his tent." Achilles smirks. "Why would I want to look at him when I can look at her?" The girl blushes scarlet and Eric smirks. "Every ones there. Celebrating the victory." Achilles nods. "Give me a moment." Eric leaves and Achilles waits a beat. He tosses the rope away from them and pushes a plate of fruit towards her. "You don't need to fear me, girl. You're the only Trojan who can say that." She watches him as he stands.

Achilles muscles his way past the two men guarding the entrance to Magnon's tent. He stood at the door and watched the leaders speak with Magnon. Achilles glances at Otto who hides his mouth with his hand to cover his smile. Otto stares at Achilles and shakes his head at the ridiculousness of the situation before him.

Greg sees Achilles and motions for the men to leave his tent. As Otto passes him, he claps him on the shoulder. "War is warriors dying and bosses talking. Ignore the politics." Achilles nods and stares at Greg.

Greg finally looks away from Achilles and motions to his assistants. "Leave us." The quietly and swiftly exit the tent. When they were alone, Greg looked up at Achilles who was staring intently at piles of artifacts from the church.

"Apparently, you've won some great victory." He said. Greg nods. "And apparently you didn't notice. The Trojan limits belonged to Pierce in the morning. It belongs to Magnon in the afternoon." Achilles crossed his arms over the broad expanse of his chest and walked farther into the tent.

"You can have the limits, I didn't come here for the dirt." Greg smirked and stood from his seat. "No, you came because you want your name to last through the ages. A great victory was won today." He looked at Achilles over the rim of his glass. "But the victory was not yours. Crime Lords did not kneel to Achilles; they did not bring gifts to Achilles." Achilles' face remained blank as he stared at the Crime Lord. "The battle was won by soldiers." Achilles nodded. "The soldiers know who fought." Greg narrowed his eyes. "History remembers Bosses, not the soldiers." Achilles shrugged in indifference.

Greg grew agitated. "Tomorrow, we'll batter down the gates of Troy. I'll build monuments to victory in every city in Louisiana and carve Magnon in the stone. My name will last forever. Your name is written in the dirt for the storms to wash away." Achilles continues to stare blankly at Greg. "First you'll need the victory." Achilles turns to leave.

"One more thing." Achilles stops and turns his body to face Magnon. "The first pick of the battles winnings goes to the commander. Your men ransacked the church, correct?" Greg raised his brows. "You want gold? Take it. It's my girt. Take what you want." Achilles says nonchalantly. Greg gives him a smirk that says he know more then he's letting on.

"I already have." Achilles pulls his brows together. "Adam! Heath!" Two large men enter the tent gripping a struggling figure tightly. Achilles' breath speeds up when he sees Bree. Her face is bruised and her lip is bleeding. Achilles looks sharply up to Greg who is waiting for his reaction. "The spoils of war. Tonight we'll eat, and then…" Greg sharply takes a lock of her hair and holds it to his cheek. He drops it and looks up at Achilles who slowly begins to draw his pistols. "Who knows?"

Achilles looks at the guards. "I have no quarrel with you, but if you don't release her now, you'll never see home again." The men obviously loosen their grip but don't release her. "Decide!" Achilles shouts. The men draw their pistols and Achilles crouches into a defensive position.

Bree wrestles free from their grasps on her arms and stands tall. "Stop!" No one moves. Achilles keeps his gaze on the floor but his head cocked towards her. "Too many people have died today." She had been addressing the men in the room but then turned her gaze to Achilles. "If killing is your only talent that's your curse. I won't have anyone dying for me." Everyone is silent.

Achilles stands straight and puts his guns away. He takes several deep breath to calm his anger and paces the tent like a caged animal. Bree stands tall and hides her surprise. She won't look at anyone. Greg laughs and stares at Achilles with wide eyes. "Mighty Alexander Achilles, silenced by a captive." Achilles glares at him. "She's not a captive." Greg smirks and circles Bree, looking her up and down. She stares at the floor. "She is now."

Achilles rolls his neck and points and accusing finger at Magnon. "Before my time is down, I will look down on your corpse and smile." Magnon's laughter echoes behind him as he storms from the tent.

Pierce sits at the head of the table in the meeting room. His best assistants and councilors surround him. Hector sits on his right and Paris on his left. "If they want a war, we'll give them a war. I'd match the best of Troy against the best in Louisiana." Says a man named Garrien. Another man named Vincent shakes his head and leans forward. "The best of Louisiana outnumber the best in Troy two to one."

Garrien stares at him and licks his lips. "So what do you suggest, we surrender the city, let the Greeks slaughter our men and rape our women?" Vincent stares at Paris until the Prince returns his gaze. Vincent looks at Pierce. "I suggest diplomacy. The Greeks came here for one thing. Let's be honest. Trojans are being prepared for burriel right now because of one youthful indiscretion." Paris looked down.

Pierce looks at Garrien. "Garrien, you've fought with me for years. Can we win this war?" Garrien looks at his hands before up at the heavily decorated war veteran turned governor. "Our walls have never been breached. We have Hector. His men would fight the devil if he commanded. We can win."

Paris suddenly stood and rested his closed knuckles on the polished wood. "There won't be a war. This is not conflict of states. It's a dispute between two men and I don't want to see another Trojan die because of me." Pierce looks up at his son. "Paris…" Paris shakes his head.

"Tomorrow morning, I will challenge Matty for the right to Helen. The winner will take her home. The loser will be buried before nightfall." Paris leaves the conference room and the old men sit in stunned silence. Hector sits beside his father, his fingers carefully brushing through his stubble, his expression blank.

One by one they turn to him. "Does he have a chance?" Garrien asks. Hector waits a moment before standing. "I want my army outside the gate in the morning. Magnon won't let this war end with a duel." Hector leaves the room.

Pierce and Paris sit in the mansion garden later that night. Pierce holds a cloth wrapped bundle in his lap. "Do you love her?" Paris stares at his lap and slowly nods. Pierce nods and looks at his lap. "I've fought many wars in my time. Some were fought for land, some for power, some for glory." Paris looks up at his father. "I suppose fighting for love makes more sense than all the rest." Paris physically sags, like a huge weight had just been lifted from his shoulders.

"But I won't be the one fighting." He hands Paris the small bundle and Paris carefully begins to unwrap it. Sitting in his lap is a shining pistol with the seal of Troy carved on the ivory handle. "Dad. Your gun." Pierce nods. "My father carried this and his father before him all the way back to the founding of Troy. The history of our people was written with this pistol." He looks at his son. "Carry this with you tomorrow." Pierce gazes at his son. "The spirit of Troy is in the pistol. As long as a Trojan carries it, our people have a future." Paris looks at his father and nods.

Hector sits on their bed, his back rested against eh headboard and Andrea rested against his chest as she nurses their son, Spencer. He twirls tendrils of her hair between his fingers. Hector appears exhausted and Andrea throws her legs across his. Hector gently strokes the baby's cheek as he drinks. "He has no idea what's happening."

Andrea smiles. "Thank God." Hector sighed and closed his eyes. "The man who killed Luke outside the church, I've never seen a shot like that. An impossible shot." Andres tenses for a moment before sitting up. "Bree was in the church this morning."

Hector sits up and looks at her alarmed. "Are you sure?" He says, panicked. Andrea nods and closes her eyes tightly, swallowing hard. Hector runs his hands through her long dark hair and they sit back. "I need to see my brother." Andrea sits up as he begins to leave the room. "Don't go." He turns to her and smiles gently. "I need to speak with him."

Andrea shakes her head. "I meant tomorrow. Don't go. You've fought enough. Let other men go out there." Hector looks down and approaches her, kneeling at her feet and taking her hands in his. "You think I want to fight, my love? I want to see my son grow tall. I want to see the girls chasing after him."

Andrea smiles as she looks at the child. "Just like they chased his father?" Hector smiles. "He's much more handsome then I ever was." Hector and Andrea continue to watch their son. Andrea looks at Hector's face. "I've lost seven brothers in the crime wars. You'd think I'd be good at losing by now." Hector looked up at her. "I can't lose you. I won't survive." Hector nods and kisses her passionately. He stands again and leaves the room.

As he exits the room, he sees a figure pass down the dimly lit hall. He pulls his eyebrows together and follows. "Wait. Wait!" Hector is far faster than the figure and quickly catches them. He pulls the hood down and gapes. "Helen?" She struggles against him.

"What are you doing?" He asked. "Let me go." Hector holds her tighter until she collapses into him. "Where?" Tears begin to fall down her face. He can feel them soaking his neck. Her body shakes violently. Hector gently coos to her. "I saw them buried. I saw them." She sobs. "It's my fault." She whispers.

"No." Hector says. Helen nods. "It is. You know it is. All those women, I still hear them screaming." She sobs. She takes a deep breath. Hector breaths in deeply and looks down at her. "Their men died because I'm here." Hector stares into her blue eyes and can't deny her words. "I'm going down to the trucks." Hector holds her tight to him. "No. You can't."

Helen struggles against him. "I'll give myself to Matty. He can do whatever he wants. Kill me, make me his sex slave. Anything's better than this." Hector shakes his head. "It's too late for that. You think Magnon cares about his brothers woman? This is about power. Not love." Helen stares at the ground between them. "Paris is going to fight in the morning."

Hector nods sadly. "Yes." Helen nods and her chin trembles. "Matty will kill him." Hector looks away, the words hurting him. "I won't let that happen." Hector shakes his head and looks down at her. "It's his decision." Helen shakes her head. "No, I can't ask anyone to fight for me. I'm no longer his queen." Hector raises her head to meet his gaze. "You're a princess of Troy now. And my brother needs you tonight." Helen looks at him.

Her eyes still wet, she smiles at him and nods. She steps past him and walks back down the dark hall.

Achilles sits on the ground in a pair of jeans that have been cut off at the knee. He's barefoot and shirtless as the sun rises in front of him, the light breeze ruffling his hair. Eric and Patrick approach him from behind. "The army is marching." Eric says.

Achilles doesn't open his eyes, nor does he move. "Let them march. We stay." Eric looks at Patrick and they exchange glances. "But the men…" Achilles stands deftly and turns to the man. Eric falters. "…the men are ready." Achilles steps towards him until he's inches from his face. "Magnon spat on my honor yesterday. I promised the girl her safety and he stole her from me. Let him fight the Trojans today." Eric looks at Patrick before leaving. Patrick stays behind.

Achilles looks out at the sun rise. "When I was very young I saw my father kill a man with his bare hands." Patrick takes a deep breath, not knowing how to respond. "There's so much blood in the human body." He looks at Patrick. "You ready to fight, cousin?" Patrick nods. "I am." Achilles nods and looks down. "You're ready to kill?" Patrick opens his mouth to speak but no sound comes out.

Achilles nodded. "At night I see their faces. All the men I've killed. I see them waiting for me." Patrick stands absolutely still. He'd never heard his cousin speak like this. "Some nights I walk among them. When I wake up I can still hear their words." Achilles looked back at the sunrise. "They say, 'Welcome.'" Patrick stares at the ground, unable to look at him.

Achilles inspects the white knuckles of his closed fist. "Never hate the men you fight. All of us are mortals. All of us, horrible as we are. Only God is free from sorrows." Patrick shook his head. "I hate no one." Achilles nods. "Good. I taught you how to fight but not why." Patrick pulls his eyebrows together. "I fight for you." He says confused.

"And who will you follow when I'm gone?" He asks as he crosses his arms. Patrick doesn't know who to answer. "Most soldiers battle for crime bosses they've never even met. They do what they're told. They die when they're told to die." Patrick shakes his head. "Soldiers obey." Achilles shakes his head. "We don't have much time to walk in the sun. After this life, comes the afterlife, an eternity telling stories to others. Don't tell them you died following some fools orders."

Patrick shrugs. "What should I tell them?" Achilles claps him on the shoulder. "Tell them your name. If your life has been worthy, they'll know the rest." Achilles smiles wryly before walking away from his cousin.

Pierce stands in the tallest window of his mansion overlooking the hotel parking lot. Magnons men lining the edges. Andrea sits on the bed looking out the window. Helen stands closest with her hand pressed against the glass.

Hector and his men line the front of the mansion. Hector and Paris stand farther in front of the men then anyone else. Hector turns his head to stare at his brother. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Paris takes a deep breath and turns to face his brother. "I started this war." Paris looks up at the windows of the mansion and finds Helen.

She smiles sadly down at him and love shines clearly in her eyes. Paris looks back at the large army spread before them. He checks his weapons, the two butterfly knives in his back pockets, the guns at his waist and the third gun strapped around his thigh.

Standing on a hill farther away from the makeshift battle field stands Patrick and Eric. Achilles is not with them.

Otto glances around the large army and frowns when he doesn't see Achilles and his men. He turns to Ajax. "Where is Achilles?" Ajax looks around and frowns. He shrugs before turning back to the Trojans.

Hector and Paris begin approaching Matty and Greg. They speak without facing each other. "Matty is a bull. He'll charge you." Paris nods. "He's stronger then you so try not to fight him up close. Keep your distance. Use your quickness." Paris nods again and takes a deep breath through his nose.

"Logan?" Hector addresses him by his first name. Paris looks at him, his face ashen. Hector shakes his head. "You don't have to do this." Paris shakes his head and continues to walk towards Matty and Greg.

Helen stares hard at the battlefield. A calloused hand takes her elbow and she turns to Pierce. "Sit with me." Pierce ushers Helen to a small couch across from the window.

Hector and Paris stop before Matty and Greg, Matty menacingly tapping his fingers against the butt of his gun at his waist. Paris does not make eye contact. Greg surveys the Trojan army. "I see you're not hiding behind your high walls. Valiant of you. Ill advised, but valiant." Hector shakes his head. "You come here uninvited. Go back to your cars and go home." Greg smiles. "We've come too far, Prince Hector."

Matty snorts. "Prince? These are not princes. What son of a governor would except a mans hospitality, eat his food, drink his wine and then steal his woman in the middle of the day?" Paris looks up. "The sun was shining when your woman left you." Matty pulls out his gun and points it at the house. "She's watching, isn't she? Good. I want her to watch you die." Paris gulps and takes a shaky breath.

Greg pushes his brothers arm down. "Not yet." Greg sweeps his free arm across the expanse of his army. "Look around you, Hector. I've brought all the warriors of Louisiana to your city."

Nestor comes up behind Greg. "You can still save Troy." Hector glances at him before looking back at Magnon. "I have two wishes. If you grant them, no more of your people need to die." Hector doesn't move. "First, give Helen back to my brother. Second, Troy must submit to my command, to fight for me whenever I call."

Hector's eyes roamed over Magnon's army. "You want to look upon your army and tremble. Well I see them. I see hundreds of men brought here to fight for one man's greed." Greg's eyes narrowed and he took half a step forward. "Careful, boy. My mercy has limits." Hector snorted. "I've seen the limits of your mercy. And I'll tell you know that no son of Troy will ever submit to a foreign leader." Greg smirked devilishly. "Then every son of Troy shall die."

Paris steps forward. "There is another way." Matty looks at Paris. "I love Helen. I won't give her up and neither will you. So let's fight our own battle. Let the winner take Helen home and let that be the end of it." Matty smirks. Greg sighs. "A brave offer but not enough."

Matty grips his brothers arm and pulls him aside. "Let me kill this little bastard." Matty whispered. Greg sighed and shook his head. "I didn't come here for your pretty woman. I came here for Troy." Matty shifted his weight. "And I came for my honor. His every breath insults me. Let me kill him. When he's lying in the dust, give the signal to attack. I'll have my revenge, you'll have your city." Greg looks at the princes of Troy before staring at his brother. "Fine."

Matty smiles and they return to the small group. "I accept your challenge. And tonight, I drink to your bones." Hector puts his arm on Paris' shoulder and ushers him to the side just as Greg does with Matty.

For the first time that day, Hector stares into his brother's eyes. The dark blue orbs are filled with fear and determination. Hector sighs and places his hands on his brother's shoulders. "Make him swing and miss. He'll tire." Hector nods reassuringly. Paris turns to Matty and then quickly back to Hector.

He opens his mouth to speak, but no words escape. Hector crouches slightly to meet his gaze. "If I fall…" He stares at his brother. "If I fall, tell Helen …Tell her…" Hector nods in understanding. "I will." Paris takes a deep shaky breath and checks himself. "Don't let Matty hurt her. Make him swear…" Hector turns his brothers head to face him. "You worry about his knife and your knife. Nothing else." Paris nods. Hector pulls him into a tight embrace before kissing his forehead and gently pushing him forward. Hector watches with well disguised fear as his brother walks towards the skilled fighter.

You're Logan Paris. 21 years old and ready to fight to the death. Your vision is blurry and your breath sounds amplified and half panicked but there's no turning back. Matty stares at you with a menacing smirk on his thin lips. You glance back quickly and see Hector nod in encouragement but he looks nervous. You look up at the windows where you father sits, the woman you love. You turn back to Matty and gulp.

Matty charges and swings greatly with his hunting knife. Paris ducks before the blade reaches his head. Matty fights with more savagery then art, showing his obvious strength. Paris is quicker though and manages to dodge every blow. Paris thrusts his knife but Matty hits him in the jaw with the hilt of his blade. Paris spits blood onto the dirt and the sticky liquid rushes from his nose. Hector flinches and shifts his weight from foot to foot, willing his brother to victory. "Get up, get up." He whispers under his breath.

Ajax and Otto stand together watching the bloody battle. Ajax shakes his head in disbelief. Otto tries not to smile. "This is the so called prince of Troy? In my city the women fight better." Otto smirks and looks at him. "But they're not as pretty." Ajax laughs quietly.

Helen cannot sit still and stands at the window. She blinks rapidly to keep her tears from falling. Pierce comes to stand beside her.

Eric and Patrick watch the fight from the hills. Eric shakes his head and Patrick licks his lips.

Matty swings at Paris but he is able to block the blow. He scrambles to his feet and away from Matty. Matty smirks and looks up at the circling birds. He looks back at Paris and gestures to the sky. "You see the birds? They've never tasted prince before." Paris looks up at the sky, his blood running down his neck. Matty's mind games are working and Paris becomes more frightened. He strikes out clumsily but Matty catches his wrist and twists. Paris cries out and Matty moves in for the kill but Paris strikes out. Matty looks back at him and spits blood onto the dirt.

Matty fights back more ferociously then before, blow after blow. Paris fights back but it is not enough. Matty's blade bites into his thigh and Paris falls to his knees. Matty smirks at the boy and points the blade at his neck. Paris stares at him.

Matty pulls back to strike and Paris runs. Matty watches in growing anger as the cowardly prince stumbles and crawls to his brother. Hector sighs and slowly approaches his ailing kin.

"Is this what you left me for?" Helen closes her eyes and tears slowly slide down her flushed cheeks. "Fight him, son. Fight him." Pierce whispers.

Paris reaches his brother and wraps his hand around his brothers calf, his temple rested on the side of his knee. Hector stands straight and tall, his face unreadable as Matty approaches. "Fight me, you coward! Fight me!" Matty cries. Hector's at a complete loss an rests his hand on the top of his brother's head. "We have a pact. Fight!" Hector can feel his brother tremble.

Hector looks from his brother to Matty. Paris won't look at anyone as he gasps for breath, blood pouring from his wounds. Hector looks at the Greek army before looking back at Paris.

"If he doesn't fight, Troy is doomed." Hector stares up at Matty, breathing deeply. "Paris." He says. He can feel Paris shake his head. "No, no." Paris chants. Hector looks up at Matty, shaking his head. "The fight is over." Matty grows furious.

"The fight is not over. Stand back, Hector." Hector stares at the man, gouging his reaction. "I'll kill him at your feet I don't care." In that instance, Hector's face hardens. "He is my brother." Matty doesn't even look at him as he pulls out his pistol.

In one motion, Hector pushes Paris aside and pulls his own pistol, shooting Matty between the eyes. Matty's eyes, unseeing, glaze over and the body hits its knees before falling to the side. Paris stares at the lifeless body of his opponent. Hector blinks and glares up at Magnon.

Greg is silent for a moment before letting out a wordless cry of rage. He points towards the Trojan army and his army rushes forward.

Hector stands still and looks at his brother. "Paris." Paris, still in shock, continues to stare at Matty's body. "Get up!" Hector shouts. Paris looks up at his brother. "Get up." Paris rises and limps as quickly as possible to the gates of Troy.

Magnon's army is almost upon them as Paris finally enters the gates.

Otto watches with intent, his stone face unreadable. "Our men are too close to the walls."

Feeling a presence behind him, Patrick turns around. Achilles stands above his men. They are unaware how long he's been watching the battle. "Pull back." He says through clenched teeth. Patrick turns back to the battle.

The Greeks continue to approach their enemy. Trojan soldiers pull out their pistols. "Now!" Hector shouts. A thousand shots ring out and a thousand Greeks fall. The bullets whistle through the air, many finding their marks.

The Greek army is now struck with chaos. The men in the front turn back, realizing they have become targets as the men in the back continue to push forward. Magnon tries to maintain order but his shouts go unheard in the roar.

Hector turns to his men. "The leader of the Greek army wants the Trojan army to fight for him." The men grow enraged. "Would any man here like to fight for Magnon?" A loud roar of 'NO' is heard. Hector smiles and raises his arm. "For Troy!" He cries as he leads the army forth.

Achilles cannot stand still. His finger twitch and he curses. Patrick and his men refuse to look at him. "Get. Them. Back. Into. Line." He says through gritted teeth.

Otto attempts to reorder the soldiers. "Get the men back into line!" He shouts.

Ajax sees Hector battling a Greek and charges him. Hector doesn't see him coming. Hector see him a moment too late and they are both tackled to the ground. Hector rolls away and pulls out a hunting knife. Ajax swings at him with a large blade and Hector rolls away.

Ajax smirks at Hector. "So you're the best of all the Trojans?" Hector doesn't answer. Hector charges and, despite his size, Ajax sidesteps and envelops him in a bear hug. Hector turns red from loss of oxygen. He slams his head forward and Ajax releases him.

Hector struggles to regain his focus and Ajax charges. Hector drives his hunting knife deep into the giant man. Ajax looks down at the wound more irritated then anything. He quickly removes the blade and swings at Hector.

Hector is stunned at this monsters stamina. Ajax catches Hector in the cheek and Hector stumbles. Ajax hits him in the back of the neck and Hector stumbles blindly across the battlefield. He pulls a pistol from his ankle and turns. He deftly shoots the man right between the eyes and he falls to his knees.

Patrick and the men are stunned that Ajax fell. Achilles can't bear to watch anymore and he storms away. The men don't watch him leave.

The Trojans are winning and Otto recognizes this. He leaps in front of Greg and begins to shout above the din. "We need to retreat!" Greg surveys the battlefield. "My army has never lost a battle." Otto glares. "If we don't fall back you won't have an army." Greg looks around and Otto takes the initiative. "Back to the camps! Back to the camps!" He cries. Men begin to fall back.

The Trojans give mighty shouts as they pursue their enemy. The city erupts into cries of joy. Hector leads his men as they chase down the fleeing Greeks. Hector holds up his hands and stops his army.

Hector looks to Travis. "Have the men gather out dead. When they're done, send a messenger to the Greeks. They can collect their dead without fear of assault." Travis is confused. "Would they have done the same for us?" Hector scoffs. "Of course not. That is why Troy is worth defending." Hector turns and leads them back to the city.

Paris flinches as Helen stitches his leg wound. His father wouldn't call for a doctor His face is bruised and his eyes red. "You think I'm a coward." Helen doesn't say anything. "I am a coward. I knew he would kill me. You were watching, and my father, and my brother, all of Troy. It didn't matter. I gave up my pride, my honor. Just to live."

Helen looked up at him and turned his face to her. "You challenged a great warrior. That took courage." Paris shook his head. "I betrayed you." Helen examines her work. The stitches are a little ragged but secure.

"Matty was brave. He live for fighting. And I hated him from the day I met him to the day he died." She leans forward until her lips are inches from his. "I don't want a hero. I want a man I can grow old with." She kisses him with great tenderness.

They look up when there's a knock on the door. Hector enters the room and examines Paris' leg. "Good stitches." He stares at Paris who meets his gaze nervously. "I thank God you're alive, little brother." Paris looks down. "I wanted to make you proud of me." Hector places a gently hand on his shoulder. "You will." He looks at Helen and smiles before leaving the room.

Campfires litter the camp of the Greeks. Otto and Nester sit in Greg tent as he paces. "They're laughing at me in Troy, drunk on victory. They think I'll quit and go home." Otto stares at him. "Maybe we should." Greg spins on him and glares. "Flee like a whipped dog?" He cries. Otto shrugs nonchalantly, still staring at Greg. "The men believe we came for Matty's woman. He won't be needing her anymore." He says almost mockingly. Greg's eyes narrow dangerously.

"My brother's blood still wets the grass and you insult him?" Otto blinks slowly. "It's no insult to say a dead man is dead." Greg spins away. "If we leave now we lose all credibility." Otto rolls his neck to stare at the older man. "You're right. But if we stay, we stay for the right reasons. We stay to protect Louisiana. Your private battle with Achilles is destroying us." Greg huffs and shrugs.

"Achilles is one man, what good could he…" Otto cuts him off. "Hector is one man. Look what he did to us today?" Greg glares at him. "Hector fights for his city. Achilles fights only for himself." Otto shrugs. "I don't care about the mans patriotism. I care about his ability to win battles." Nestor nods and looks at Greg. "He's right. The man's morale is weak." Otto gapes at him. "Weak? They're ready to swim home." Greg huffs and sits down heavily in his chair. "Even if I wanted to make peace with Achilles, the man won't listen. He's as likely to shot me as speak to me."

Otto and Nestor shared a glance. "He'll want the girl back." Nestor broached. Greg snorted. "He can have the damn girl." Otto raised his brows. Greg raised his arms. "I haven't touched her." Otto perked up. "Where is she?" Greg rubbed a hand down his face. "I gave her to the men. They needed some amusement after today." Otto and Nester exchanged worried looks.

Drunk soldiers stand by a campfire. They appear exhausted and are still caked with mud and blood. The shove Bree between them, her dress a filthy rag that barely covers her body. She has a cut beneath one eye and beer soaking her hair. "Trojan whore." One man calls.

One man catches her and glances at her dress. "A virgins dress?" Another laughs. "You won't be needing that much longer." The man pulls a pocket knife from his back pocket. One man grips her arms and holds them back. "Hold her down." Bree begins to struggle. She gets one arm free and slaps him across the face. He growls and backhands her.

When the blade is inches from arm, the butt of a gun hits the man in the side of the head knocking him unconscious. Achilles stands alone, looking fierce with only the firelight as light. The men holding her step back and release her. "Achilles." One man pulls a blade. "There's one of him and ten of us." Achilles shoots a man in the head. He points the gun at the man who drew his blade. "Nine." Achilles says. The men scatter.

Achilles kneels next to Bree and picks her up bridal style. Patrick and Eric stand when Achilles reaches the tent. "Food, water and get me a dress." Eric raises his brows before nodding.

Achilles sets her down on a the ground made up with several blankets. She scoots as far away from him as she can get. Eric returned with a bowl of assorted fruits and a basin of warm water with a cloth hanging over the side. Achilles gratefully took them from him and Eric departed.

Achilles knelt in front of her and wet the rag. He wrung it out and reached for her face. She hissed and slapped his hand away. Achilles recovered and reached for her face again. She pushed him away again and, frustrated, he threw the rag at her. Angrily she threw it back hitting him in the face. He stops and picks up the rag, depositing it into the basin of water.

He picks at the food and set it down between them. "You should eat." She says nothing and he shrugs. "Did they hurt you?" Bree reaches for the rag and rings it out, gently dabbing at her cheek and lip. "What do you think?" She whispers.

Achilles stares at her. He hears Patrick enter the tent. He turns to see him with a dark blue, thin summer dress. Achilles nods and he sets it on the bed. "I saw you fight them. You have courage." Bree snorts. "To fight back when people attack me? A dog has that kind of courage." Achilles studies her. "I like dogs more than people." She stares at him as she continues to clean her face.

"Why did you choose this life?" She asks. Achilles waits. "What life?" Bree gestures to her surroundings. "This…to be a great warrior." Achilles shrugs. "I chose nothing. I was born and this is what I am." She shakes her head slightly. "You're a woman in love with God. Where was your God when those men tried to scar you?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Do you enjoy provoking me?" The corner of his mouth turns up. "Yes." They watch each other, Bree angry and Achilles smiling. "You've dedicated your life to God, yes?" She nods. "He creates war doesn't he?" She looks down. "All God does is to be feared and respected the same way." For a long while they are silent, the air between them charged with more than just anger.

"What do you want here in Troy? You didn't come for the woman." Achilles blinks. "I want what al men want. I just want it more." She nods and looks away. Achilles takes an apple from the bowl and begins to shave the skin.

He moves closer to her. "I tell you a secret. Something they didn't teach you in church. God envies us. He envies us because we are mortal, because any moment might be our last, whatever God you choose to believe in." The intensity with which he stares at her is so great that she has to look away. "You'll never be lovelier then you are now. And we'll never be here again." She is quiet for a long time. She carefully takes a grape from the platter and bites it in half.

She meets his gaze. "I thought you were a dumb brute." She looks down. "I could've forgiven a dumb brute." Achilles expression remains blank as he stares at her.

The moon is full and only a few campfires remain burning. Achilles lies on his back on the pile of blankets on the floor. Bree kneels by his side, a small pocket knife held to his throat. His eyes open. She gasps quietly.

"Do it." He whispers. She blinks. "Nothing is easier." He says. She turns her head to the side. "Aren't you afraid?" He shrugs. "Everyone dies. Weather today or fifty years from now, what does it matter?" She takes a deep breath. "You'll kill more men if I don't kill you." She seemed more trying to convince herself then give him an explanation. He appeared slightly amused. "Many."

Still, she does nothing. He slowly brings his hands up to her arms and grips the biceps. He shakes her slightly, bringing her closer to him. "Do it." She does nothing. Suddenly he flips them so he's on top of her. He maneuvers himself so his narrow hips rest between her thighs. She gasps at the new contact.

He grips a bundle of the soft fabric of the blue dress in his hand and slowly pushes it up her smooth thigh. He raises himself up slightly and looks down at her. He slowly lowers his head, being cautious of the blade.

When his lips touch hers, her arm goes slack and the blade drops soundlessly to the ground. He pushes the dress farther up her body until her lower half is bare before him. His lips never leave hers and she brings her hands to his hair. He cups the back of her thigh in his hand and raises it.

Their movements grow desperate and she wraps her arms around his back. His hand lifts her leg around his hip. He gently rocks his hips against her. She arches her back slightly and her breathing grows raged. He lifts himself up and supports his weight on his arms. He carefully slides himself inside and stills when she gasps in pain.

He rests his elbows on either side of her head and watches her face. When her body relaxes, he slowly begins to thrust. Her eyes close in ecstasy, her long dark hair spread out around the pillow. She gasps and her nails leave red trails down his back. He carefully slides our of her. He let his hand sneak in between them to slip through her folds and into her moist heat. Her hips rose again, her head fell back and a loud, lusty moan left her lips, sure to be heard by the entire camp. He added his thumb to the torture, slowly rolling around the tiny pearl of flesh above her opening. This had Bree bring up a hand in order to stifle her scream of pleasure. The other, unexpectedly, found a tight grip onto his manhood, which had him falter in his movements as she stroked him. He removed his hand, then, kissed her passionately and entered her with one swift push of his hips. They both hissed at the feeling. He never stopped kissing her as he started to move with her. He grasped hold of one of her legs, and raised it a little, so he could slip in deeper, caress her more intimately. His hand resumed its teasing at her womanhood, and soon the rush spread though her entire body, and now she was shivering for an entirely different reason. They both were.

Achilles sits in a stiff leather chair dressed only in cut off short with a glass in his hands between his knees. Bree was still asleep on the bed, curled up on her side with the sheet modestly covering her. One led was stuck out of the blanket and hanging over the edge. A tenderness not seen before on the harsh warriors face sits there now as he watches her sleep.

Eric opens the tent flap and Achilles put a finger to his lips. Eric sees Bree and, smiling gently, nods before leaving the tent. Achilles sits a moment longer before leaving the tent.

Otto waits for him. Achilles looks at Eric. "Have the men load up the car. We're going home." Eric, surprised, nods before hurrying off. Otto looks at Achilles. "You found the girl?" Achilles nods. "I found her." Otto nods and stares out at the sunrise. "Is she hurt?" Achilles smiles. "Not as badly as those who hurt her." Otto smirks before nodding.

"Do you miss your woman, Otto?" Otto turns to him. "Always." Achilles nodded. "I've never missed anyone in my life. I used to think it was weakness, needing someone." Otto has a knowing glint in his eye. "We all need someone. Right now, Louisiana needs you." Achilles violently shakes his head. "Louisiana got along fine before I was born and Louisiana will be Louisiana long after I'm gone." Otto chuckled. "I'm not talking about the land. The men need you. You should've seen the slaughter yesterday."

Achilles turns to his old friend. "I saw it and I saw who led them to slaughter." Otto shakes his head. "Magnon is a proud man. But he knows when he's made a mistake." Achilles raises a brow. "The man sends you to make his apologies? He doesn't understand honor. What are you doing serving him?" Otto shakes his head. "The world seems simple to you, my friend. But when you're a crime boss, very few choices are simple. Athens cannot afford an enemy like Magnon." Achilles looks at him. "Am I supposed to fear him?" Otto smiles. "You don't fear anyone, that's your problem. Fear is useful."

Achilles looks back out at the sun. "Stay, Lex. You were born for this war." Achilles stares at him. "My life is war. Is that what you think?" Otto raises his brows. "Am I wrong?" Achilles shakes his head. "A week ago you were right. But things are less simple today." Otto nods and looks at the ground. "Women have a way of complicating things."

Achilles smiles and claps Otto on the shoulder. "Of all the crime leaders I respect you the most. But in this war you're a servant and I refuse to be a servant any longer." Otto shakes his head as his friend begins to walk away. "Sometimes you need to serve in order to lead. I hope you understand that one day." Achilles kept walking.

He sees Patrick sitting outside his tent and approaches him. "We're leaving?" The boy asks. Achilles nods. "We leave at noon." He tries to enter his tent but Patrick stands in his way. "We leave at noon." Achilles walks past his cousin into the tent.

Pierce, Hector and their advisors were gathered in the conference room of the mansion. "The directive is clear." Gerrien said. Hector shook his head. "Fight for your city, that's the directive." He said. Pierce held up his hand. "What action do you recommend?" Gerrien nodded. "Now is the time to destroy the Greek army." Hector shook his head.

Pierce turned to look at Vincent. "Vincent?" Vincent rapped his knuckles quietly on the table before looking up at Pierce. "Their morale is weak. Hit them now, hit them hard and they will run." Pierce nodded before looking at his oldest. "I underestimated them, they lack discipline and courage." A frustrated Hector rubs his eyes roughly.

"Achilles and his men didn't fight yesterday. There must be fighting among them. But if we attack them, we'll unify them." He looks around at the men. "If they decide to attack, let them. They can't breach our walls. We'll beat them back." He stares at his father. "Yesterday, they underestimated us. We can't return the favor." Pierce stares hard at his son.

He stands and paces the long room. "Prepare the army. We attack at noon." Hector stands and looks hard at his father. "We're making a mistake." Pierce and Hector stare at each other. "Prepare the army." Pierce says slowly. Hector shakes his head and leaves the room.

Achilles holds her close to him. Their hands clasped to his chest. His free arm wrapped around her shoulders as a pillow and his hand splayed across her hip. Her hands gently stroke his neck and face. The sheet pulled up to their naked hips.

Their faces reveal undisguised tenderness. His fingers gently stroke her hip. "Am I still your captive?" She whispers. He smiles softly and rubs his nose against hers. "You're my guest." Bree sighs. "In Troy, guests can leave whenever they want." He examines her face. "Come with me back to Stonewall." She smiles. "Is that where you're from?" He nods. "I'd thought I'd never see it again. My mother told me I wouldn't." She moves closer to him. "Is she psychic?" She whispers.

He smiles and moves his hand up her side. "She knows things. She told me if I'd stayed home I'd live a long peaceful life, but that if I came to Troy I'd live a short life, but my name would never die." Bree pulls her eyebrows together. "And you chose Troy?" He nods and brushes her hair back from her face. "But what if I was sent here for a different reason? To find peace? To find you?"

She cups his face in her hands and brings his face closer. They gaze at each other for a moment before relaxing and closing their eyes.

Otto and Greg arm themselves to prepare for battle. Hector stands on the tallest hill and looks at the Greek army. The sky is cloudy that day, the sun blocked by the gray storm clouds. Hector gazes up at the sky and frowns.

Achilles and Bree sleep contently on the bed. The sheet wrapped around Bree's body, her back comfortably spooned by Achilles, his naked body bare behind her. He is roused by noises of distant battle. He raises his head and looks around his tent. He cocks his head and listens before laying his head back down on the pillow.

The Greeks are nervous. Yesterday, they were beaten by the Trojans and today they're back. Otto stands with his men, his chest stuck out and his head held high. A cry starts up in the armies and steadily grows louder. Otto turns his head and his jaw drops slightly in surprise.

With his head bowed and a thick hood over his head, is Achilles. "Achilles." Otto says under his breath. His face is unreadable. Greg turns and watches the spectacle with mixed emotions.

Eric is thrilled by the arrival of his leader. "Arm yourselves men." He says. Hector is unaware of the commotion. Hector raises his arm and twirls it in a circle once. The Trojans charge. Gun shots ring out as each army fires. Hundreds of Trojans and Greeks fall at the same time. Achilles raises his arm and the men charge, his army leading them. Otto watches with unease, something isn't right.

Achilles leads his men, steadily pushing the Trojans back. The Trojans now appear nervous, unsure where the Greeks found the intense spirit. Gerrien runs up beside his leader. "God is with them today. We should fall back." Hector doesn't answer.

Achilles and his men are getting closer. Hector notices them now. He sees Achilles, his face still hidden, leap over a Trojan cutting the man down. "Achilles." He whispers and charges.

The expert men clash, the guns and knives wielded with superior power. Hector rushes the warrior and quickly cuts down the man who stands between them. Soon, he's face to face with the mighty warrior, his face still shrouded in darkness. He's a difficult man to stare at for long.

Hector lunges and they fight. Although the battle continues, men around them are aware of the battle. The mighty warrior is quickly then Hector, lighter on his feet, swinging and swinging again and again. Hector fights with patience, blocking the blows and waiting for an opening.

He momentum carries so quickly that he has no time to protect himself. Hector takes full advantage and swings his blade across his throat, a line of blood whips out of the cut throat. Achilles falls.

Everything seems to stop. Though men are still fighting, a collective gasp of despair is heard throughout the battlefield. Otto stands in stunned silence. Hector kneels next to the body and pushes back the hood. The panicked and bloody face of Patrick stares back at him. A rock necklace sits in the hollow of his throat that slowly fills with blood.

Hector grips the boys hand tightly, his face pained. Patrick's gurgling breaths deeply upset the prince. Hector slowly pulls out his pistol and holds it to the boys' temple. His chips trembles and tears fill his anguished eyes before he pulls the trigger.

All noise stops and Hector looks away, his eyes tightly closed. Hector opens his eyes and notices the stunned Otto. The Greeks have pushed the Trojans back but all fighting has stopped.

Hector slowly stands and takes a staggering step back from the boy. "Enough for one day?" He asks. Without removing his gaze from the boy, Otto nods. Hector turns to his men. "Arms down! Back to the city!" Otto turns to his men and shouts the same. "Back to the camp!" Otto approaches the body and kneels beside him. He closes the boys frightened eyes and bows his head. He stands and looks at Hector.

Hector looks away and begins to follow his men back to the city gates. Eric comes up beside Otto and stares at the boy. "We were going to leave at noon." He whispers. "I don't think anyone's leaving now." Otto doesn't look at him.

Eric approaches Achilles' tent and takes a deep breath. "Achilles!" He calls. A few seconds later, Achilles emerges clad in only khaki shorts. He stops short of his man and examines him. Eric is dirty and covered in blood, his hands caked with the dry liquid. He meets his eyes. Eric cringes at the fire filled gaze.

"You've been fighting." Eric stares at the ground. "Achilles…" "You disobeyed my command." Eric shakes his head in despair. "No, no. There was a mistake." Eric finally looks up and meet Achilles' gaze. "A mistake? I ordered you to stand down. You led them into combat?" Eric lowers his gaze. "I didn't lead them."

Achilles grows confused. He hears the anguish in his mans voice. "Who did?" Eric looks up at him. "We thought you did." He whispers. Achilles tenses and knows something is wrong. He looks around the camp, his heart beating faster. His men pass him and avoid his gaze.

"Where's Patrick?" Eric bites his lip and blinks rapidly to sway the tears. "We thought it was you. We-he dressed like you." Achilles, panicked, swivels his head in all directions. "Patrick?" Bree sleepily stands at the door, the sheet wrapped around her nude body like a dress. "He's dead." Eric whispers.

Achilles swivels his burning gaze to him. His breath comes in heavy pants, his heart pounding. "Liar." Achilles whispers. Eric shakes his head. "He looked like you. He even fought like you. We all followed…" Achilles shook his head. "No." Eric takes a small step forward. "He fought well. With great courage, but Hector came after him." Achilles' nostrils flare, his eyes narrow.

"If I could've saved him…" Achilles hits him hard in the mouth, the man falling. Achilles stands above him, fists clenched. Eric holds his mouth, blood already pouring. "Liar!" Eric sadly shakes his head. "I saw him fall." Achilles grips his collar and lifts him. He pulls a pistol from his waist band and holds it to Eric's temple.

Bree is there, gripping his arm. "Lex, don't!" He drops the pistol and holds her throat in his hand. She wraps her wrists around his arm and gasps. The tenderness is gone from his gaze, his brown eyes burning. He drops her. She sags to the ground and clutches at her throat, quiet sobs escaping her mouth.

Achilles releases Eric and rests his hands on his hips. His chest still heaving, he looks at the sky. "Dead?" He asks. Eric nods and gets to his knees. "Hector cut his throat." He nods and looks at no one as he strides away. Bree continues to sob in the grass. Eric breaths heavily and stares despairingly at her.

It's dark in the basement of the mansion. Hector holds a flashlight and lead Andrea through the halls. "Where are you taking me?" She asks. He doesn't answer her until they reach a heavy oak door. He opens the door and looks at her. "You remember how to get here?" she nods, confused. "Yes." He nods. "Next time you come, follow this tunnel. There are no turns so you won't get lost. Keep walking. It was built during prohibition for the speakeasies and hidden bars."

"Hector…" He steps towards her. "When you get outside, you'll be on the south side of the river. Follow the river until you see the borders of Mississippi. The Greeks won't travel that far." Andrea puts a hand on his cheek. "You're scaring me." He stares at her. "Hector, what aren't you telling me?" He looks down before looking into her eyes. "If I die…" She shakes her head and he cups her face. "If I die, I don't know how long the city will stand." She looks at the ground. "Don't say that."

Hector rests his forehead against hers. "If the Greeks get inside the walls, it's over. They'll kill all the men." She looks up at him, tears in her eyes. "Please." He shakes his head. "Doesn't matter how young, they'll throw the babies from the walls. The women they'll take for slaves and that will be worse for you then dying."

She looks up at him and presses her body to his. "Why are you telling me these things?" She whispers. "I want you to be ready. I want you to get our boy, get him and come here. Save as many others as you can but you get here, you go down these stairs, and you run. Do you understand?" She nods slowly and cups his face. "I killed a boy today. He was too young. Much too young."

Achilles kneels beside the Patrick's body, a foot deep hole a few feet from them. As gently as a mother, Achilles scrubs away the dried blood on the boy's lips. He cleans the dirt from his face and wipes away the crusted blood on his cut throat. He removes the shell necklace from around his neck.

Greg and Nestor stand several feet away watching the makeshift burial and Greg barely conceals his pleasure. "That boy just saved the war for us." Otto stands closer to his friend, fatigue and sadness age his face.

When the boy is clean, Achilles slowly pulls the sheet up over his face. He kisses his forehead and stands. Eric and another man step up and carefully lower Patrick's body into the hole. Achilles watches as Eric shovels dirt into the grave.

Achilles stands and watches as the dirt grows taller and taller on top of the body of his cousin. Bree sits nearby, watching Achilles watch the burial.

Greg sits in his tent, examining a map of Troy. His jaw is tense as he plots his revenge.

Pierce stands on a balcony over looking his city.

Hector stands by his sons crib watching him sleep. Andrea sleeps on the bed nearby.

Helen lies in bed. She stares at the wall in front of her. She hears a quiet thump repeated over and over at brief intervals. She rolls out of bed and walks over to the window.

Standing in the gardens is Paris, two guns held in either hand, silencers on each end. His target is riddled with bullet holes.

Achilles, still standing in the same spot, looks down at the fresh grave. He walks away and stops when he sees Bree. She had fallen asleep on the ground in a small ball. He sees the bruise on her throat where he throttled her. His expression is unreadable. He stares at her for a moment before entering his tent.

It is dawn and Achilles steps outside his tent. Eric is sleeping. "Eric." Eric raises his head and rubs his eyes. "Achilles." Achilles stares at the sun rise. "Get me my weapons." Eric nods and rushes off.

Eric helps Achilles prepare. Placing his guns inside their holsters. Achilles checks all his knives and dresses.

With Andrea and Spencer asleep in their bed, Hector straps on his guns and checks his blades.

Achilles sits in the chair beside the bed, where Bree sleeps after he moved her.

Hector kneels before the crucifix in the entryway of his father's home.

Achilles exits his tent where Eric and the rest of his men are standing. Achilles stops to check his guns again and Eric begins to arm himself. Achilles holds a hand out in front of him. "No." Eric stares at him for a moment before placing his weapons on the ground.

Achilles begins to walk away when Bree races to his side. "Don't go." He stops but doesn't look at her. She stands in front of him. Her eyes are red from exhaustion and purple bruises circle her pale throat. Achilles glances away from them and back at her face.

"Hector is my cousin. He's a good man." Achilles shakes his head and begins to step around her. She follows him and cups his face. "Take me to Stonewall with you. But don't fight him. Please don't fight him." He watches her and wraps his hands around her wrists gently. "We could have a life together but not if you choose this path." She presses her forehead to his and stands on her toes. "You can walk away from war." He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, considering her words. "Lex, we can walk away from war." She whispers. He sighs and opens his eyes.

He gently pushes her away and walks around her. She turns to watch him go, her face heartbroken. She wraps her arms around herself and feels Eric come up beside her. She turns away and walks slowly back to his tent.

Pierce stands in the room overlooking the parking lot turned battlefield. Andrea sits on the bed with her hands folded in her lap. Paris stands near them but not with them. Hector stands closest to Andrea, watching for Achilles.

Achilles walks up the hills to the battlefield. Achilles stops in the middle of the parking lot, his hood over his head and his arms at his sides. He stands alone on the vast field. He looks up at the high walls. "Hector!" He cried.

Hector took a deep breath and turned to Andrea who refused to look at him. "Hector!" He turned to his father. "Hector!" Pierce cupped his sons face and kissed his forehead. "Forgive me for any grievances." Pierce smiles brokenly and shakes his head. "May God be with you." Hector hesitates before turning away.

"Hector!" Achilles and Pierce call at the same time. Hector turns to his father. It appears that Pierce is unable to speak. Finally he says, "No father had a better son." These words deeply move Hector who nods and walks towards Paris. The brothers embrace before Paris pulls away. "You're the best man I know." Hector stares at his brother and nods. "You are a prince of Troy." Paris stares into his brothers' eyes. "I know you'll make me proud." Hector kisses his brother forehead before finally turning to Andrea. "Hector!"

She still won't look at him. He kneels before her and takes her hands in his. She looks up at him with tear filled eyes. Spencer coos happily on the bed beside her. "You remember what I told you?" She looks down as tears begin to fall and nods. "You don't have to go. You don't…" Hector shakes his head. "You remember what I told you." She looks him in the eyes and nods. She hasn't slept well. Her hair is a mess and her eyes are red.

She picks up the boy and set him on her lap. Hector smiles and takes the boy. Spencer smiles and touches his fathers face. Hector closes his eyes and breathes the child's scent before kissing his forehead. "Hector!"

He smiles up at Andrea and she grabs the back of his neck. She presses his face to hers and holds him there. Her fingers are gripping his hair, her mouth is open, her eyes are closed and her body slack against his. "Hector!" Finally his disentangles himself and stands.

Paris turns away from the devastating scene. Hector stands still for a moment before walking to the door. He doesn't look back. He slowly steps down the stairs; his fingers flow over the smooth wood. "Hector!"

As he stops at the door, he senses someone behind him. He turns and sees Helen. She stands ten feet behind him. The doors are opened. Helen and Hector stare at each other, never saying a word, never looking away. "Hector!" Hector swallows and nods. He turns away and walks out of the mansion. Helen watches him go, waiting until the doors close before turning away.

Hector stops twenty feet from Achilles. They are alone in the great field. "I've seen this moment in my dreams." Achilles says nothing. "I'll make a pact with you. Let us pledge that the winner will allow the loser all the proper funeral rituals." Achilles cocks his head to the side and his eyes narrow. "There are no pacts between lions and men."

Achilles throws his hood back and stares hard at Hector. "Now you know who you're fighting." Hector takes a deep breath. "I thought it was you I was fighting. I wish it was you. But I gave the dead boy the honor he…" "You gave him the honor of your gun!" Achilles shouts. He pulls out his hunting knife. "You won't have eyes tonight. You won't have ears or a tongue. You'll wander hell blind, deaf, and dumb. And all the dead will know: this is Hector, the fool who thought he'd killed Achilles."

They charge. There's never been a battle like this before. Two better soldiers have never clashed before. All the training and past battles have led to this moment. Nothing is wasted. No flourishes or balletic movements or spins. Every swing is a death blow.

Achilles grows bored and pulls out a pistol. Hector quickly sidesteps the shot before pulling out his own. Shots ring out across the battlefield.

Andrea covers her ears with her hands. Helen looks over and quickly sits beside her on the bed.

Hector and Achilles suddenly are close, their faces inches apart. Hector is sweating and breathing heavily. Achilles is not. He shoves Hector back and relaunches his attack. Hector still fights ably but is tiring.

Hector steps back as Achilles delivers blow after flow with his bare fists. He trips and falls. Achilles stands above him. "Get up, Prince of Troy. I won't let a stone take my glory." Hector stands and breaths deeply.

He knows his energy is fading fast and spends everything on one last attack. He charges and swings with explosive fury.

Hector stops and stares at Achilles. He is unharmed and parried every blow. Achilles bores in swinging. Hector blocks every attack but doesn't have the stamina for a new attack. Achilles lunges and Hector side steps but isn't quick enough.

The long blade bites through layers of muscle and bone, piercing the flesh directly into the young princes heart. Hector stare down at the blade in his chest. He looks at Achilles. There is no mercy or remorse on his face. Hector falls to his knees and looks up at the sun, gasping for breath.

Pierce reacts as if he received the blow, clutching at his chest. Andrea sobs and turns her head away from the window into Helen's shoulder. Helen holds her and pushes her hair back form her face. Spencer stares at his mother in confusion.

Paris grips the window pain so hard his knuckles turn white. His face is hard and his eyes burning.

Hector blinks up at the sun and takes deep breaths through his mouth. Achilles grips his shoulder and holds the end of the blade in his other hand, pulling it from his chest. Hector stares into the sun and closes his eyes. He falls to his back and takes his last breath.

Everything is silent. No birds, no cheers, no sobs, no sound. Achilles walks around Hector's body and grips his shirt collar. He wraps his fingers around the cloth and proceeds to drag the body through the dirt and grass of the battlefield.

Paris narrows his eyes and watches Achilles abuse his brother's body.

Andrea had slumped against the side of the bed, her knees tucked up to her chest and her face buried against her knees. Spencer begins to cry at his mother's distress. Helen picks up the baby and soothes him. She takes Andrea's hand. Andres looks up at her and her eyes are frightening.

They stand and Helen leads Andrea away. Paris turns from the window and storms out of the room.

The Greeks stare as Achilles roughly drags Hector's body to his tent. He stops around the side and lets go. He takes a half step back from the body and breaths deeply looking down at it.

Otto stands a few feet away staring at him. A few Greek soldiers laugh at the mighty prince. Otto holds his hands behind his back and stares at Achilles.

Achilles runs his dirty hands through his hair and continues to breath heavily while staring at the fallen Hector. Otto looks at the ground before, sparing a quick glance at Achilles, walking away. Achilles looks away from the body and walks into the tent.

Bree is sitting against the far wall, her knees drawn up to her chest. She looks up when he draws back the tent flap. He stands tall, with a blank expression on his face. He appears more beast then man, splattered with Hector's blood.

She sees his face and knows what happened. Her strength seems to fail her and her hands cover her face. He regards her for a moment before walking to his bed. He sits on the edge and stares straight ahead. Bree continues to cry.

The sun has set. The camps are dark. Achilles sits in the center of the tent, sharpening his knives. Bree sits in the far corner, her face tear soaked and blank, her eyes are red a swollen.

"You lost your cousin. Now you've taken mine." Achilles says nothing. The sounds of sharpening metal continue to fill the small space. "When does it end?" He looks up at her. "It never ends." She stares silently at him for a moment before standing and leaving the tent, the sheet from the morning still wrapped around her like a dress. He sets his blade on the table and folds his hands, rested his chin on his knuckles.

Bree sits in the cool grass, a gently summer breeze ruffling her hair, the moonlight her only source of light.

Achilles still sits only in his tent, his eyes empty. He looks up when he hears the tent flap move. A man with a hooded jacket enters the tent and stands before Achilles. He lowers his hood.

"Who are you?" Achilles asks. The man seems physically hurt by the sight of Achilles. For a moment it seems he will collapse but he takes a step forward and kneels before Achilles. He takes Achilles' hands and kisses each of them. Achilles watches with curiosity.

The man looks up at him. "I have endured what no man on earth has before. I've kissed the hands of the man who killed my son." Achilles stands and backs slightly away from the man. "Pierce." Pierce looks down. Achilles steps forward and helps the man to his feet. "How did you get in here?" Pierce scoffs. "I think I know my city better than the Greeks." Achilles says nothing.

"You're a brave man. If Magnon knew you were in here, he'd have your head." Pierce stared at Achilles. "Do you really think death frightens me now? I watched my eldest son die, watched you drag his body behind you." For the first time, Achilles is first to look away.

"Give him back to me. He deserves the honor of a proper burial. You know that. Give him to me." Pierce whispers. "He killed my cousin." Achilles defends. "He thought it was you. He defended his country. How many cousins have you killed? How many sons and fathers and brothers and husbands? How many, brave Achilles?" Achilles looks away from the powerful man.

"I knew your father. He died before his time. But he was lucky not to live long enough to see his son fall." Achilles looks up at the man but doesn't respond. His face is unreadable.

"You've taken everything from me, my eldest son, defender of my city. I can't change what happened. It's the will of God. But give me this small mercy." Achilles looks into Pierces' eyes. Pierce tries but fails to blink back his tears. "I loved my boy from the moment he opened his eyes to the moment you closed them." Achilles blinks. "Let me clean his body. Let me pray over him."

"If I let you walk out of here, if I let you take him, it doesn't change anything. You're still my enemy in the morning." Pierce smiles brokenly. "You're still my enemy tonight, but ever enemies can show respect." Achilles nods. "I admire your courage. You're a better man then the one leading this army. Meet me outside in a moment." Achilles pulls a black blanket from the bed and leaves the tent. He kneels beside the fallen prince. Death has not stolen the dignity from Hector's face.

He harshly rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes and breaths deeply. When he removes his hands, his eyes shine with tears. He seems unsure of what to do before he wraps Hector's body in the black sheet. His breathing grows faster and he rests his palms gently against the body. Quiet sobs escape his chest.

Some moments later, he looks up and wipes his face. "We'll meet again soon." He whispers.

Pierce exits the tent when he hears noises. He exits the tent and sees Achilles and his men with Hector's body on a makeshift stretcher. Achilles turns to him. "My men will follow you to the gates. From there, you'll have to make your own way." Pierce nods. "You're son was the best I've fought. No Greek will attach Troy for five days." Pierce nods his thanks.

Achilles hears footsteps and turns. Bree emerges from the shadows. Pierce is stunned. "Bree?" Pierce goes to her and wraps her in his arms. Bree returns the hug. "We thought you were dead, little one." Bree pulls away from her uncle and looks at Achilles.

Everyone is silent. Tears shine in her eyes. She walks towards Achilles and looks up at him. "You'll be safer behind Trojan walls." She looks at the ground. He pulls Patrick's necklace from a pocket in his jeans and fastens it around her neck. His fingers gently stroke the purple bruises. She closes her eyes and leans closer to him.

She grips handfuls of his shirt in both hands. He rests his forehead against her temple. "If I hurt you, it's not what I wanted." She sighs and brushes his face with her fingertips. He kisses her forehead and pulls away. Her face is mapped with many conflicting emotions.

He looks at Pierces' confused expression. "Go. No one will stop you. You have my word." Pierce looks at Bree who still looks at Achilles. "Come, my girl." Bree walks towards her uncle and follows him back to Troy. She looks back once. Achilles stares at her until she's gone.

Magnon paces his tent in fury. Nestor, Otto and several assistants stand along the lines. "Achilles makes a secret pact that I have to honor?" Seething with rage, Greg throws a glass across the tent. "Consorting with the enemy! Giving him five days of peace! Peace! Their prince is dead! Their army is leaderless! This is the time to attack!" Nestor steps up. "Even with Hector gone, we have no way to breach their walls." Greg turns viciously to him. "I will smash their walls to the ground. If it costs me my army, I will smash their walls to the ground!"

Otto and Nestor exchange troubled glances.

The next morning, Otto sits with his men at their camp. A man sitting beside Otto whittles with a small knife. Otto watches the man work. The man notices his leaders attention and smiles, holding up the small wooden horse. "For my boy back home." Otto nods, not taking his eyes off the small toy.

Otto stands in front of Achilles. They had just discussed Otto's plan to breech the city walls. By building a wooden horse, the men would hide in the hollow inside and wait until the city slept. They would sneak out and then burn the city.

"He'll kill them all. Women, children, men, all of them. You know that." Otto looked at the ground. "I'm the crime boss of Athens, not Troy. My loyalty is to Athens. If this plan works, the war ends in a night. My men can sail home to their families." Achilles starts walking away and Otto follows him.

"It's not Troy you're worried about, is it? It's one Trojan. One Trojan girl." Achilles stops and turns to his friend. "I've always liked you. But if that girl dies because of your plan, you will never see home or your family." Achilles turns and leaves. Otto takes a deep breath.

Achilles reaches his tent and finds Eric sitting outside. "Eric…" Eric gets to his feet and stands before his leader. "Forgive me." Eric blinks and opens his mouth to speak but no words come out. "I should never have struck you. You've always been a loyal friend." Eric nods. "I hope I never disappoint you again." Achilles nods. "Wake the men. You're taking them home." Eric pulled his brows together.

"Aren't you coming with us?" Achilles smiled. "I've got one more battle to fight." Eric pauses and watches Achilles. "She's worth fighting for. We'll stand behind you." Achilles shakes his head. "All that's left is the slaughter. I won't have you fouled by with children's blood." Eric still hesitates. "Go, Eric. This is the last order I give you." Eric nods and watches his leader walk away.

Pierce, Paris, Gerrien and Vincent stand in the parking lot. They stare up at the giant wooden horse in the middle of the parking lot. All the Greek trucks and vans have left. Only a few scraps of wood and metal are left behind.

"It's a gift. We should bring it into the city." Vincent said. "I think we should burn it." Paris says. A sense of foreboding surrounds him as he gazes at the horse. Vincent looks at him in shock. "But, it's gift to God." Gerrien shakes his head. "The prince is right. I'd burn it if Troy had a big enough torch." Paris glares at Vincent. "Burn it, dad."

Pierce stares at the massive horse.

Dozens of Trojans pull thick braided ropes into the city with giant horse attached to them. The square is crowded and joyful. Soldiers and citizens celebrate the victory, waving Troy's flag and drinking.

Helen and Paris sit on the mansion steps watching the celebration. "Look at them. You'd think their leader had never died." Helen takes his hand and rests her head on his shoulder. "You're their leader now. Make your brother proud."

Paris nods solemnly, Hector's last words to him bouncing off the walls of his skull. They sit quietly as the crowds sing in the streets.

The square is empty now, all the celebrants gone home. Ropes and rope ladders begin to lower from the horse. Achilles, Otto and several more Greek soldiers slide down the ropes and touch the ground. Otto leads a team up the steps, cutting the throats of the soldiers who stand guard. Another group approaches the watchtowers.

Achilles stands alone for a moment before turning in another direction. He's on a different mission. Two soldiers open the iron gates of the city. One Trojan soldier has just enough time to shout, "They're still here! The Greeks are here!" Before Otto cuts his throat.

Suddenly, hundreds of Greek soldiers barge through the gates. Knives and guns brandished, the attack anything in their path.

Bree leans against a column in her room. A dark green light cotton dress flows around her ankles. A simple rock necklace hangs around her neck. She turns her head when she hears noise. She looks out her window and sees the flag of Troy burning.

Chaos erupts. Screams can be heard throughout the city. Fires burn all throughout the city. Cries of death and pain echo across the tall buildings. More and more scream can be heard until it seems like the whole city is screaming.

Achilles runs through the burning city, keeping close to the shadows.

Pierce stands on his balcony, watching his beautiful city burn. Watching the quick destruction of his life's work.

Hector's soldiers run to the arms closet. Many are unprepared for what awaits them. They all appear frightened. One-man throws open the doors to the closet and hurriedly distributes the guns.

They dive back as a blast of heat rushes out the door. The armory is aflame, fire eats at the wood beamed ceiling, devouring thousands of guns in the racks.

Terrified families run through the burning streets. Mothers clutching the hands of their children, old women run from their burning homes, screaming. They scream when they see Achilles, but they are the last thing on his mind.

Bree hurries through the halls of the mansion. Outside, past the archways, the buildings of Troy are on fire. She can hear the screaming of the dying city.

Magnon stands in the center of the city, watching with delight as the city burns around him. "I promised, brother!" He screams to the skies. "Burn it all!"

Paris stands at the dresser and sheaths his knife and clips his pistol. Helen watches him. Andrea enters the room, Spencer in her arms. "We have to run." She says. Helen looks at her. "Where?" Andrea nods her head. "I'll show you." Helen looks at Paris who continues to arm himself. "Come, love. Come with us."

Otto battles his way down the streets of Troy. The Trojans are too dazed to offer much resistance.

Andrea leads Helen, Paris and other women and children down the tunnels. Andrea pulls open the door and pushes others inside. "It's a long walk." Helen enters and turns to Paris who does not enter. "I stay." He says. Helen shakes her head and goes to him. "No." Paris takes her arms. "My father will never abandon the city. I cannot leave him"

"The city is dead! They're burning it to the ground!" She cries. Paris shakes his head. Andrea grips his arm. "Bree was not in her room." Paris glances down and nods. "I'll find her." Andrea kisses him before leading the others through the tunnel.

Helen stays with him. "I'll stay with you." Paris gently pushes her to the door. "Go." Helen shakes her head. "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me." Paris pulls his brows together. "How could you love me if I ran now?" Helen shakes her head as tears roll down her face. "Please…" Paris kisses her hard. "We'll be together again soon. Either in this world or the next, we will be together." He gently pushes her through the door before closing it.

Bree runs through the halls. Cries echo off the walls. "Paris? Andrea?" She stops in the middle of the hall.

Achilles runs through the streets. "Bree! Bree!" Achilles climbs the high steps of the mansion and runs into the entryway. He stops a guard and tackles him to the ground, his gun pointed at the man's forehead. "Bree Ceres. Where is she?" He asks. The man trembles under Achilles' gaze. "I don't know. Please…I have a son." Achilles stands and pulls the man with him. "Then get him out of Troy."

The guard, stunned at the fact that he's still alive, runs back the way he came. Achilles watches him disappear and runs the opposite way.

Otto and his men fight heroically up the mansion steps. The Trojans resist honorably. They die honorably. Magnon stands with his men on the steps. "No one escapes! No one!" He cries. The men charge into the mansion.

The Trojans attack. For a few moments they seem to drive back the Greeks. Paris shoots at several of the men. Several of them fall. Too many Greeks pour through the doors and the Trojans fight bravely, especially Paris who fires with accuracy and precision. Otto fights Gerrien and quickly kills the older man. The remaining Trojans fall back deeper into the mansion.

Pierce sits in his conference room. He hears noise from outside the door. He walks to it and steps outside into the hall. Many Greek soldiers run down the halls. He turns to his left. "Have you no honor?"

Before he can move forward, he his stabbed from behind. Magnon yanks his blade free and stands above the dying governor. "I wanted you alive." He sneers. "I wanted you to watch your city burn." Pierce clutches at his chest. "Please, the children…" Greg raises his brows. "Let death decide who's innocent." He looks up and leaves the governor to die alone.

Bree runs into the gardens, searching for a familiar face, but sees no one. She runs to the statue of Mary in the gardens and falls to her knees before it. She does not notice a blood soaked Magnon in the archway a few feet from her.

Achilles races through the halls, searching every terrified face of the women he passes. "Bree!"

Bree kneels at the statue of Mary, her hands clasped to her chest, ignoring the inferno around her. Greg comes up behind her with two soldiers. "Too late for prayer, nun." Bree doesn't look up. Magnon grips her hair and hauls her up to face him. She stares hard into his face, her face a mask of anger. "Your parents should have taught you to stand for a king." Bree smirks. "They did."

He examines her. He smiles. "You wore a white dress last time I saw you. No more? Did brave Achilles ruin you for the church?" She narrows her eyes and he pulls her close. "I almost lost this war because of your little romance. I want to taste what Achilles tasted."

Achilles pauses in an archway leading into the gardens and glares when he sees Bree in Magnon's hands. He runs.

He whispers in her ear. "You'll be my slave. A Trojan whore scrubbing my floors. And at night…" He rips her dress up the side. She pulls a knife from the sheath at her thigh and drives it hard into the side of his neck. His eyes bulge. He falls to his knees and clutches at his neck. She breaks the blade at the hilt and dashes away.

The guards stare at their leader in disbelief as Bree runs. They pursue her. One wraps his arms about her waist and the other pulls a knife. She struggles. "Hold her." He cries. Achilles swings his blade around and cuts his throat. The second throws Bree to the side and pull his gun. Achilles is faster and shoots the man between the eyes.

Paris looks through the archway and sees Bree on the garden floor with the bloody Achilles, the man who killed his brother, standing above her.

Achilles looks at Magnon's corpse before approaching Bree. He kneels and wraps an arm around her waist. She grips his shoulders and begins to rise. "Come with me." He says. As they rise, she looks over his shoulder. Paris stands on the balcony; gun in hand, pointed at Achilles. "No!" She screams.

Paris is caught off guard by her scream and moves. The bullet hits Achilles in the thigh. He arches back and drops Bree. She begins to crawl towards her cousin. "Paris!" Achilles stands and slowly limps towards the prince. He brings his hand around to his side and starts to pull out his gun. The bullet in his thigh slows him down making his reflexes slower. The second bullet tears through his ribs.

"Paris! Don't!" Bree stands before her cousin now. Paris fires again, the bullet ripping through Achilles' shoulder. Achilles has his arms raised; gun in hand, ready to fire. Bree runs to him and steps in front of him right when the third bullet comes sailing. She gasps as the bullet rips through her back and out of her chest to hit Achilles in the abdomen.

Blood pours from their wounds. Achilles drops his gun, a dull thump being heard. He wraps his arms around Bree and they fall to their knees. She gasps for air as her lungs fill with blood.

Paris looks at his gun before looking up at Bree. "Bree!" He runs down the steps and stops before the couple. "Bree." Achilles brushes back her hair with bloody fingers. Tears fall down her cheeks. "Shh, don't cry." He whispers. He glances down at the rock necklace. His bloody fingertips stroke the smooth stone. "My mother made this." He chokes.

Bree brushes his hair back from his face and clutches at the roots at the nape of his neck. Troy burns around them. "Why did you do that?" He asks. She licks her lips and looks at his. "You came back for me." She whispers.

She begins to cough. Achilles touches his forehead to hers. "You gave me peace. In a lifetime of war." He says. She closes her eyes and breaths grow ragged and far between. "Bree?" Paris gasps. Bree rests her head against Achilles' shoulder. Achilles stares at the prince. "Go. Prince of Troy." Paris shakes his head.

Achilles can feel Bree grow slack against him. "There's always a way out for princes. Go." Paris looks at his dying cousin and slowly begins to retreat. They were losing too much blood. Achilles looks back at her. She touches her lips to his, her fingers running over his jaw. Their foreheads touch. Achilles see Otto coming. He kisses her again, his finger trembling as his body fails.

Otto watches in horror as Achilles and Bree fall. He runs to them and checks their pulse. He shakes his head when he finds none. He closes their eyes.

"If they ever tell my story, let them say that I walked with giants. Men rise and fall like the moon and the sun, but these names will never die. Let them say I lived in the time of Hector, tamer of armies. Let them say I lived in the time of Alexander Achilles."