Title: Bed of Flames
Author: Chrissykat
Ship: Troy, Briseis/Achilles
Category: Angst/Drama/Romance
Part: Reflections of the Past
Rating: T Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.
Authors Note: I know many of you asked for a second chapter to this story. Well, here it is. I hope you are pleased. I'm not sure how far I'll take this, as I don't want it to become the typical Achilles/Briseis story. I'll try to be as original with ideas as I can so if you have any ideas, feel free to send them to me. On a side note, I was able to retrieve a copy of the directors cut of Troy and I must say I enjoyed it immensely. In my honest opinion, I would have to say, that the many of the added bits made the movie ten times better.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. For this one we'll be in Troy and scenes will include Priam's arrival back from the Greek camp, morning after in the Greek camp, night of Hectors funeral pyre (both in troy and in the Greek camp), revelation of Briseis' whereabouts to her family and their reactions. Not much, but it will setup a few future scenes that I plan to throw in, in a possible third chapter if this one is to everyone's liking. I've taken the details about her father and brothers name from the book Daughter of Troy, a great read for Achilles/Briseis fans.
Okay enough chat, on with the story.
Anguish, indescribable anguish gripped the old King as the large gates of Troy closed behind him. Priam tiredly pondered his nieces' final words to him. Seeing her alive had been a happy moment in dark times and yet the change he saw in her was disturbing. Briseis was no longer the young girl he remembered. There was little doubt in his mind that Achilles had something to do with that.
After being forced to leave Briseis with her Greek captor, Priam could take comfort only in the fact that his words had convinced Achilles to relinquish Hector's body and to offer the Trojans twelve days in which to mourn for their fallen prince.
A soldier offered to take the reigns from the weary King and Priam acquiesced. The soldier guided the chariot back to the palace. Upon reaching the palace steps, Priam ordered Hector's body be brought to the funerary preparation room. Once his orders were spoken, he spared once more glance at the wrapped corpse of his eldest son before slowly climbing the palace steps.
Paris, Helen, and Andromache awaited him in the throne room. Paris was on his feet immediately upon his fathers return. Helen and Andromache remained seated, the new princess quietly trying to console the grieving widow.
"Father, thank the gods. We feared the worst; we thought that…that Achilles had…"
Priam waved off Paris' concerns. The old king slumped down onto his chair, sighing heavily. "Be still my son. The gods guided my steps and have brought me safely home." He did not wish to speak further about the Greek warlord in front of Andromache. Talk of such things would only cause her more sorrow. Nor was he certain about bringing up discussion of his dear niece. He had yet to decide how to break such news to his family.
"Were you able to retrieve Hector's…were you…" Paris spoke softly. At the mention of her husband's name, Andromache's sobs grew in volume, sending another fresh wave of guilt over him.
"Your brothers' body has been returned to us and…we have been given twelve days of peace to mourn." Priam closed his eyes, desperate to block out the horrendous events of the day.
Andromache stood on shaky legs, speaking through her tears. "Where…is his…I…I wish to see my husband."
Priam looked upon his eldest sons' wife with sad eyes. Hector's body was in terrible shape. Achilles had dragged the corpse across the sand, brutally defiling it. He simply could not allow Andromache to see her husband in his present condition. "The priests are already preparing him. His wounds...there was…" The once strong spoken king could not seem to voice his concerns.
Andromache wanted to protest, but there was little fight in her. What strength she had left, she would need to care for her son. The princess nodded, as she quietly retreated from the throne room. Her heart shattered in a million pieces.
Helen bowed her head unable and unwilling to speak. Her presence had already caused so many deaths. What comfort could she give to a people who had lost so much because of her?
Priam gave a weak sigh before addressing his youngest son. "Paris…have the guards… begin the building the funeral pyre. At sundown tomorrow…we will send your brother on his final journey."
"Yes father." Paris answered with a bow of his head. Though he wished to speak more with his father, now was not the time. Helen placed a hand on his arm and the pair quietly retreated.
In solitude, Priam bowed his head and wept, mourning his first-born son.
Following Day: Greek Camp
Odd how Apollo's sun could still shine down even when so many hearts where heavy with grief. The morning light filtered through the tent flaps and Briseis' eyes fluttered open. A moment of disorientation struck her, but it passed quickly as she recalled the events of the day and night before. The pain of Hector's death, the sad longing in Achilles eyes when they parted, the unanswered questions in her Uncles eyes when she realized she could not return to Troy; each moment burned in her mind.
Briseis closed her eyes briefly. She knew she had made the right decision in staying. There was nothing left for her in Troy. She belonged with Achilles. As her thoughts drifted to Achilles, Briseis realized he was not in bed. She sat up, letting the blanket fall away, to peer around the tent. Sometimes he would sit and watch her sleep, but not this morning it would seem.
She climbed out of the bed and pulled on the tan dress he had given her to wear. Then she crept out of the tent. The sun was shining brightly and Briseis shielded her eyes against the harsh light.
Eudorus spied her leaving the tent. "Good morning milady." He picked up the platter of food Achilles had asked him to prepare.
"Good morning, Eudorus." Briseis politely replied. "Where is Achilles?"
"He has gone to speak with King Odysseus this morning. He asked that I keep watch over you while he is away…for your protection." Eudorus gestured to the platter in his hand. "He also asked that I deliver this to you when you awoke."
Briseis gave the Myrmidon captain a smile before taking the platter from him. "Thank you." She sat down on some of the rocks nearby, nibbling on a piece of fruit.
Eudorus returned the smile. "You are most welcome." Another Myrmidon approached to ask a question, diverting his attention. Upon hearing her say his name, he sent the man off to carry out his duties before turning his gaze back to Briseis.
"Eudorus…I know that this is unusual, but I would like to go up to the temple, if that is alright." She kept her eyes on Achilles second as she spoke.
"There is nothing left of value there milady. The Myrmidons took everything they could find our first day here." Eudorus was curious as to what she could possibly want at the desecrated temple.
Briseis frowned. There were two reasons one more important then the other and she was unsure of how to explain this to the warrior in front of her. "I know. I…I spent so many hours in the temple praying that day." She sighed, getting to her feet. "Tonight, my cousin will burn on the pyre and though I can not be there to mourn him I…"
Eudorus nodded his head, holding up a hand to let her know he understood. She wanted to feel connected somehow to those mourning the Trojan prince. If she felt being at the temple would give her that connection, he had not the heart to deny her request. After all, she had the right to mourn her cousin like anyone else. "I believe I understand milady and I am sure Lord Achilles would as well. I will have two of the Myrmidons escort you safely to the temple and inform him of where you are when he returns. "
Grateful that he did not question her further, Briseis nodded her head in thanks. Eudorus returned the nod before calling two of the Myrmidons over. "Diokles, Casambus!" They approached regarding Eudorus with a respectful bow of their heads. "Take the Lady Briseis up to the temple and be sure no harm comes to her."
Neither warrior voiced any protest to the strange order, but simply gave another bow of their heads. Briseis allowed Diokles to take her hand, while Casambus went to fetch some horses. Once Casambus returned, Diokles quietly helped her atop one of the horses. The trio rode off; their horses slowly climbing the steep sand dune that would lead them to the temple.
Eudorus watched silently as the former priestess gracefully rode towards a part of her past. He had thought Achilles mad for laying down his sword for a woman, but after meeting Briseis, he could see what had inspired the Myrmidon leader. She reminded Eudorus of his own wife; strong-willed with a mind all her own.
Once his men and the Lady Briseis were out of sight, he sat down in front of Achilles tent to wait for his leader to return.
Achilles watched with no amusement as Ithaca's King paced back and forth. When he had informed Odysseus that he wanted no part in the plan to sack Troy, to say his friend was surprised would be an understatement.
Odysseus was trying to convince him, once again, to stay. "You know Agamemnon is already furious with you for allowing King Priam to leave this camp alive, not to mention giving him hectors body and twelve days of peace. Now you want me to tell him that you are not going to help us sack the city?"
"I want no more Trojan blood on my hands. My part in this ridiculous war is over. You have all the men you need to sufficiently bring the Trojans to their knees." Achilles took a sip of wine after speaking.
"That is not the point and you well know it." Odysseus sighed before sitting down next to Achilles. "The men hold you in high regard, they know that if you are there fighting beside them that they will be victorious."
Achilles put his drink down, leaning back in his seat. "There is no reason for me to stay. I have already accomplished what I came here for. The time has come for me and my men to return home."
Odysseus rubbed his chin. Trying to win Achilles over was always a challenge and Ithaca's king would not give up so quickly. "What will happen to your Trojan maiden when her city begins to burn? Have you thought about what Agamemnon will do to her if he finds her?"
Achilles glanced over at his longtime friend. An underhanded comment was and this time it would not work. "Briseis did not return to Troy?"
"What? What do you mean? I thought you told me last night…" Odysseus began, completely thrown by this latest news.
"I thought she had. She went with Priam and was gone. When I returned to my camp after speaking with you, Eudorus informed me that she had come back." Achilles leaned forward.
Odysseus shook his head, now knowing he would be unable to sway Achilles as he usually could. In the Myrmidon warriors mind, leaving Troy had more benefits then staying; he would be protecting the woman, who had for reasons unknown to Odysseus, been able to temper Achilles volatile temper. "She must be a worthy prize for sure."
Not amused by his friends' insinuation, Achilles retorted angrily, "She is no mere prize of war. I have never treated her as such and do not take kindly to those who would."
"Of course, my apologies; I meant no disrespect." Odysseus held up his hands in mock surrender as he spoke, lowering them only when Achilles had calmed. "However, if I may be say, her presence has certainly had a strange effect upon you. If not a war prize, what is this Briseis to you?"
Achilles had asked the same question every moment he had spent with her. It wasn't until he had let her go that the answer had finally become clear. However, he was not about to pour out his feelings to Odysseus. "That my friend is not your concern.
Odysseus knew Achilles was not going to share anything about the Trojan beauty. Yet he was so highly curious he ventured on. "To have survived her brief stay with Agamemnon, she must be a brave girl."
"She is a brave woman and more." Achilles cleared his throat before proceeding. "When I got her back from Agamemnon I swore that I would never let that bastard harm her again. In the end, I hurt her more than he ever did."
"Yet, she chose to stay with you instead of returning to her family." Odysseus interjected.
Achilles nodded. "I practically strangled her to death in my rage over Patrocleus' loss. She begged me not to fight Hector. I refused to acknowledge her pleas, killed a beloved family member of hers, and defiled his body. After all that, she still can forgive me. Tell me, how I am worthy of such a creature?"
Odysseus rubbed the whiskers on his chin. "Who can say why men like us, battle hardened warriors, are worthy of the women we are blessed with. There are days when I hardly believe that I have my Penelope. These things are in the hands of the gods my friend, though I know you have little respect for them." He chuckled under his breath.
"You are right about that." Achilles turned to face Odysseus and the two men laughed for a time.
When the laughter faded, Odysseus placed a hand on Achilles shoulder. "I do not need to warn you, if Agamemnon finds out that she is still here, he may try to use her against you and perhaps the Trojans as well. He has encouraged my plan, yes, but you know how he enjoys…"
Achilles smile vanished, replaced by a snarl. "He will beg for death before I ever let him touch her again. I will not allow that swine anywhere near her. This is precisely why I intend to leave this place as soon as Briseis has had the proper time to mourn her cousin."
Odysseus nodded his head.
Any further discussion about Agamemnon was closed.
Paris stood in the doorway, his eyes focused on the body being prepared for the pyre, his brothers body. Images from the past haunted him; images he could not escape, of happier days. Hector had always been there to protect him, even in times when he was most deserving of punishment. The crushing guilt nearly overwhelmed him and it took everything he had left not to crawl into himself and bawl.
Hector had been a husband, a father, a good man who wanted nothing more but peace for his people. Now, the heir of Troy lay dead, dead because of his younger brothers' stupidity. His rash actions had brought nothing but ruin upon his family. Hector had not been the first to fall. Briseis, their beloved cousin was lost after the first day of battle. She was in the temple when it was sacked. They had little hope she had survived the assault as Hector had informed them that all the priests were slaughtered.
Helen had done her best to comfort him and while Paris was grateful for her words, they did little to heal his wounded spirit. Nothing could relieve him of the stabbing pain he felt at losing both Briseis and Hector.
Paris jumped suddenly when a large hand came to rest on his shoulder. He spun around to reprimand the guard who had disturbed him only to feel even more guilt upon seeing his father.
Priam eyes the young man. Paris was carrying so much blame in his eyes. Conflicting emotions battled for supremacy when it came to the Kings youngest son. Anger, disappointment, and sympathy all collided into one another until he didn't know which emotion was stronger. With Hectors' death, anger and disappointment were at the forefront, but he pushed them aside. "Come, I wish to speak with you about an important matter."
Paris bowed his head, following his father down the hallways of the palace. Normally noisy and crowded, the halls of were quiet, with very few servants milling about. The echo of their shoes on the floor was eerie and unsettling.
Before long, they had reached the throne room. Priam sat down upon his throne and Paris took the seat beside him. He waited patiently for his father to speak.
Priam took a few moments to gather his thoughts. What he was about to reveal was not going to be easy for his son to hear. Briseis and Paris had always thought of each other as siblings rather then cousins. His words now would likely destroy that relationship forever. "Paris, what I tell you now must not leave this room. I do not wish for Andromache to hear about this." Andromache had already grieved over Briseis, whom she considered a little sister. Now she was deep in mourning for her husband. There was no point in her finding out about Briseis' odd behavior.
"Of course father." Paris answered with only slight hesitation in his voice.
"When I went to retrieve your brothers' body from Achilles, I…I came across something quite unexpected." There was a moment's pause before Priam looked his son straight in the eyes. "Briseis…is alive."
By the time Briseis and her escorts reached the temple, she was drenched with sweat. The sunlight was scorching and while they had ridden, the climb up the sand was still hard. She wiped some sweat from her brow. The motion was pointless as her arms were coated with sweat as well.
Casambus climbed down from his horse and immediately approached to aid her down from hers. Once her feet touched the warm sand, Briseis set off up the stairs of the temple, the two Myrmidons followed at a distance. The bodies of the Trojan soldiers slain by the Myrmidons were long gone, but their blood stained every step. She reached down, her fingers tracing the dry, dark red marks. Achilles words came back to her. 'Trojan soldiers died trying to protect you, perhaps they deserve more then your pity.'
With a wistful sigh, one she was sure to repeat many times on this excursion, Briseis continued up the stairs to the doorway. Her escorts remained behind, standing guard at the entrance. The sensation that passed over Briseis as she stepped inside the temple was strangely unsettling. Bloodstains of men who had died in an effort to protect the temple were visible where the light touched.
She walked further into the temple, looking around at the once familiar setting. Memories filtered through her mind. The Myrmidons had ransacked the temple, but in her minds eyes she could still see this place as it once was. Briseis approached the massive alter. Many times she had knelt at this alter, praying to a god that had seemingly deserted his people. She smiled wistfully, recalling the last time she had done so.
Her hands picked up an overturned bowl on the alter. There was nothing in the bowl now; its precious herbs spilled out during the first day of battle. Briseis cradled the bowl in her hands as she had done so many times before placing it back in its spot upon the alter.
She proceeded to a small room on the left where she often spent the night after a long day in worship. The room was bare, the blanket she had used, gone. She crept into the room, kneeling down near the wall. The blanket meant little to her, easily replaceable, but she hoped the Myrmidons had not found the one thing that could not be replaced.
Her fingers danced along the stones in the wall, counting each one until she reached the correct one. When she found it, Briseis began digging her nails into the sides of the block. She wasn't sure how long it took, but finally she was able to pry the block loose. Placing the block onto the floor, she peered inside the wide hole and smiled. Reaching a hand into the hole, she pulled out one of the only things she had left of her parents. Her hands shook as she held the ring in her hands. Her mothers ring, the last present her father had given to his wife before his death. When her mother had joined him, the ring was set aside for Briseis. Priam had bequeathed it to his niece two years ago.
When the bells first rang to warn of the approaching Greeks, Briseis had already hidden the precious object. She could not bare the thought of her mothers ring falling into the greedy hands of an enemy and so she had taken the precaution the night before. Briseis clutched the ring tightly to her chest, and then slipped it onto her finger before standing up and walking out of the small room.
She made her way towards another staircase, which led to the roof of the temple. The staircase was dark and Briseis had to step carefully so as not to fall. She smiled, thinking about how the priests had forbidden her from going atop the temple to meditate with the other priestesses. They said it was too dangerous for a member of the royal family; that she might fall. The real reason was so preposterous Briseis wondered at the intelligence of the priests her Uncle held in so high regard.
Trust, the priests, and priestesses didn't trust her. They never had. From the moment she took her place in the temple, they treated her as if she was some type of spy. Even years after her and her brothers' arrival in Troy there were still those who remembered who their father had been and where he had come from. The priests were among those who could not see past their fathers' origins. Their mother, Nemertes, may have been Trojan, but their father Briseus was a son of Greece.
No member of the royal family had ever spoken much about their being half-greek. Others were not so kind. As a child whenever she or her brother got into trouble, Briseis would hear the women of court whisper about 'the half-breed' brats among them. The taunts had stung them both deeply, but as she grew older, Briseis had learned to ignore them. Their opinions mattered little to her then and even less now.
Briseis reached the top of the stairs, breathing in the fresh air as she stepped out onto the roof. The sun continued to beat down on the Greek camp and she watched as hundreds upon hundreds of soldiers milled about. The beach where she, her brother and her cousins had played when they were younger had undergone such a vast change since the start of the war.
Turning her gaze away from the beach, Briseis looked off in the distance. The walls of Troy were visible from where she stood. The city she had called home for so many years appeared far different in her eyes now. No longer did it shine with power and magnificence. Now she wondered if the city ever had been powerful or if she had just been naïve enough not to see its flaws. Briseis sat down near the edge of the temple roof, curling her legs underneath her. For twelve days, the people would grieve for Hector. Twelve days and then…Briseis was certain when those days were at an end, without her noble cousin to protect it, Troy would be in flames.
She braced herself against the chill she was certain would creep up her spine at the thought of Troy's impending doom.
The chill never came.
Achilles walked through the Greek camp, making his way back to his men and Briseis. When he had left that morning, she was still sleeping. He had watched her for a few moments while he dressed before leaving to meet with Odysseus. There was something so captivating about her when she slept.
When he reached the Myrmidon camp, his men came to attention, showing respect for their leader as he passed. He returned the gestures with an emotionless nod of his head.
Eudorus, who was speaking with Gyrtias, sent the man on his way. He bowed his head upon Achilles' arrival, stepping away from the door of the tent.
Achilles climbed the small mound of sand that his tent stood upon before he came to stand in front of his second in command. "Is she awake?"
"Yes my lord. She woke a few hours ago and asked where you where. I told her that King Odysseus wished to speak with you. I brought her the food you asked me to."
Achilles rubbed some sweat off his forehead. "Good. Have the bath brought into my tent and filled. I could use a cool bath and I am sure she will want one as well."
As he was going inside, Eudorus stopped him. "She is not in there, my lord." He had not time to finish his before Achilles had turned on him, eyes dark, and voice cold and loud.
"Where is she? Where did she go?" If Agamemnon had come and taken her again, he was as good as dead.
Eudorus put up his hands, "She asked if she could go up to the temple. I sent Diokles and Casambus to make sure she got there safely and to ensure no harm comes to her while she is there. My apologies, I just assumed you would not mind as long as she was accompanied."
Both Diokles and Casambus were two of the most trustworthy of his men. Both men were sons of former Myrmidons who had served with his father Peleus, long ago. His temper was sated, but now his curiosity was piqued. "No, it's alright Eudorus. Why would she wish to go back to the temple though?"
"I am not entirely sure of her reasoning my lord, perhaps for some sentimental reason." Eudorus replied.
Achilles nodded his head, his lips pressed tight together. "Fetch my horse."
"Yes my lord." Eudorus whistled at one of his comrades and ordered him to bring one of Achilles horses. His orders were carried out with little hesitation. Gyrtias came forward, leading the dappled colored Balios.
Balios whinnied as Achilles took the reigns. Ever since Patrocleus death neither Balios nor Xanthos, Achilles other steed, had behaved the same. It was as if they too were mourning the loss. Patting the horses' snout, Achilles tried to calm the beast down. The action was enough to calm Balios and Achilles mounted the horse without further trouble.
Eudorus stepped back. He and the Myrmidons watched as their leader lightly kicked the horse and raced up towards the temple.
Helen rocked Astyanax in her arms. Her eyes, drifted back and forth from the face of the child, to his grieving mother. Andromache sat near the window, tears cascading down her face.
Everything was falling apart around them. Helen could still hear the women of Troy wailing for their lost husbands and sons. The sounds haunted her wherever she went, even invading her dreams. Now Andromache's mournful sobs had joined them.
Astyanax began to squirm in her arm before letting out a cry of his own. Helen shifted him around, but his tears would not be quelled. She stood up and approached his grieving mother. "Andromache, I think he is hungry."
Andromache wiped her eyes, trying to regain control of her emotions. She did not speak, merely held her arms out in order to take her son. Helen carefully laid the struggling child into his mothers' arms. As soon as he saw his mother, Astyanax loud cries softened. Andromache released one of the straps of her dress and let her son suckle. He latched on, his little hand lying atop her soft skin. "There, there my little one" she sniffled "Mommy is still here".
It was a heartbreaking scene; one Helen could barely endure. She sunk to her knees in front of her sister in law. The tears she had been fighting streaked down her cheeks. Only when she felt one of Andromache's hands upon her head, was she able to speak. "Oh Andromache, what have I done."
Though she longed to be able to hate this woman, Andromache was unable to do so completely. True, Helen's presence in Troy had brought a war that had killed the cities protector, her beloved Hector, but Helen was not the one who she hated. "Everything that has happened…could not have been prevented. Know that I bare you no ill will my dear."
Only the man who slew her husband deserved her anger, yet strangely, she was also deeply upset with Hector. Why did he have to fight Achilles? Why could he not have stayed inside the walls of the city? He could have let the archers dispatch Achilles. Instead, he chose to battle, to leave her and their son alone.
Wiping her eyes, Helen sat back onto the floor. "You should, you should all hate me. I have brought nothing but death to your people, to Paris' people. I should have given myself back to Menelaus when this war began. Even if he did kill me, at least your husband and so many others would be alive."
Astyanax had finished feeding and drifted off to sleep. Andromache sighed, gently pulling the strap of her dress back up before addressing the woman kneeling in front of her. "Such a sacrifice would have made little difference. Hector…" her voice caught for a moment "He made a choice. It was his duty and he fought knowing what the consequences would be. Only the gods could have prevented his death, but that…was not to be."
Helen stood up slowly. "The gods have been cruel to your family. First your lovely cousin Briseis was taken from you and now…"
Andromache had buried thoughts of Briseis after the first day of battle. The young girl's life had ended too soon. The Myrmidons and their loathsome leader slew both her husband and his sweet cousin. "Briseis…would not have blamed you for your actions. Before she decided upon the life of a priestess, she…she was quite a romantic. For a while, we thought she would marry one of her Trojan suitors." Andromache sighed, "I wish you two had been able to get to know one another better".
"As do I, Paris spoke so fondly of her." Helen sniffled, wiping her eyes again. She watched mother and child silently for a moment before excusing herself. The new princess of Troy made her way down the hallway. As she passed the throne room, Helen heard Paris' voice. He sounded surprised and excited. She crept closer to the door to hear what had caused such a reaction.
Inside the Throne Room
"Briseis…she is alive? How is that possible? If she is alive…where is she?" Paris threw question after question at his father. After so much sorrow, hearing that Briseis was indeed alive eased some of the pain in his heart.
Priam put a hand to his forehead, "Briseis is not here, she…she would not return with me. She remains in the Greek camp, with Achilles."
Paris' excitement diminished as quickly as it had begun. "WHAT! Father, what do you mean she would not leave and that she is with Achilles? Why would she remain there? Obviously, she is being held against her will. We must send some of our men to retrieve her."
"Briseis is following the path the gods have set before her. We will not interfere. Achilles has returned Hector to us; given us the respectable amount of days to mourn. I will do nothing to break this pact with him." Priam's voice brokered no questioning, but his Paris had never been good at tempering his emotions.
"The fiend murdered Hector and now he has stolen Briseis from us. We must do something. She would never willingly stay with that monster." Paris ranted.
"PARIS, enough!" Priam stood from his throne and approached his son. He placed his hands on the princes' shoulders. "This is not easy for me either, but Briseis no longer feels it appropriate to be among the Trojan people. She has changed from her time among Achilles."
While he was slow to catch on to a great many things, the mention of Achilles and a change in his cousin brought Paris around to the awful truth. "No, she would never, not Briseis. She is a priestess, a pure Trojan. She would rather die than let a man of Greek blood touch her in such a way, especially the man who killed Hector. He must have forced himself upon her."
For years, Priam had remained silent about Briseis' father. The blood that flowed through his nieces' veins was both Greek and Trojan. Paris, like all the royal family knew this. "Briseis is no longer a priestess, a decision she assured me was her own. I have never known her to lie about such things. Have you my son?"
Paris whipped his head around to look at his father. "You know Briseis hate lies, but this can not be true. I will not believe that she would rather stay there with…Achilles instead of returning to her own kin."
"You once chose another over your own kin my son. Briseis has always been different, gone her own way. She is very much like her mother in that way, but it is her father, her fathers blood which calls to her now." Priam explained.
Slumping down onto one of the benches, Paris shook his head. "There must be some way to convince her that this is not right? Let me take some of our men, go, and speak with her. I am sure I could explain to her why she must come back to Troy."
"NO, that is out of the question." Priam stood up from his throne and came to stand before his son. "I do not know exactly what happened between Briseis and Achilles nor do I wish to. She is gone and I will hear no more of your nonsensical ideas of rescue."
Paris nodded his head quietly apologizing. While the two men spoke, neither heard Helen gasp at the slightly opened door. Nor did they hear her quickly retreating footsteps.
Achilles climbed down from Balios upon reaching the temple. Diokles and Casambus came to attention and he ordered Casambus to return to camp, while Diokles watched his horse. Orders given he wasted little time entering the temple. Like Briseis, he too recalled the first time he set foot in this once sacred place. What he hadn't known then was how much his world would change after that day.
Briseis was nowhere in sight, which concerned him. Where could she be? Achilles approached the alter remembering his first encounter with the Prince of Troy. He had greatly misjudged Briseis' kin that day. He had assumed Hector was an unworthy match when in truth the man had been the best he had ever fought.
Shaking off thoughts of the deceased prince, Achilles walked around spying the staircase that led to the roof. Smiling, he started climbing, certain he would find Briseis when he reached the top.
She was there, sitting on the edge, her eyes cast towards the city. He watched Briseis for a few moments and for the second time that day wondered why she had remained with him.
Without having to look, Briseis knew Achilles was there and she smiled. She knew well that he would come after her once he had returned to their tent to find her gone. "I do hope Eudorus is still amongst the living." She looked up at him once he had reached her side. "You did not punish him for granting my request did you?"
Achilles peered down shaking his head. "No. You are lucky he knows when to speak quickly. You should have told me you wished to come to the temple Briseis." He was not angry, but her disappearance had shaken him.
Briseis closed her eyes, feeling like a scolded child, "I was not aware that I required your permission. I am sorry if I worried you." Opening her eyes, she peered out across the plain once more.
Folding his arms across his chest, he too set his gaze upon the open plain. "I thought Agamemnon had dared take you from me again. Eudorus corrected my assumption, though I am confused as to why you felt the need to return to the temple?"
A wistful smile returned to her face, "To say goodbye to Hector, just as you said goodbye to Patrocleus". Gathering her thoughts, Briseis continued, "I may not be with my family when they burn his body, but at least here I can watch from a distance, pay my respects, and remember my cousin. Its not quite how it should be, but it is enough."
Achilles remained silent but nodded his head at her words. Regret weighed heavy on him and he found it a most uncomfortable burden. So many men had fallen victim to his prowess on the battlefield. If ever there was a life Achilles he wished he had not so ruthlessly taken, it was Hectors. As he had told the Priam, Hector was the best he had ever fought. Had circumstances been different, he would have respectfully fought beside the noble Prince of Troy.
Out of the corner of her eye, Briseis saw him nod in acceptance of her answer. Something in his eyes told her that he was now thinking about Hector. While they knew little about each other, they both had a way of reading the others mood. "Troy wasn't always my home you know." She looked up at him seeing her words had caught his attention. "It was only after my parents died that I came to live here."
Anxious to brush off his discomfort and intrigued at the notion of learning more about the woman who had so changed his life, Achilles crouched down next to her. Briseis had spoken little about her own family and except for her cousins and Uncle, he had no knowledge about her family; who her parents were or if she had siblings.
Briseis watched as he knelt down next to her. She moved her legs so that if he wished he could sit by her; he chose to do so, but refrained from letting his legs dangle over the edge of the temple roof. Once he was still, Briseis continued speaking. "I spent the first five years of my life in Lyrnessus, with my mother, my father…and my brother.
Achilles recalled Lyrnessus as being one of the cities he and his men had sacked before reaching Troy. Compared to Troy or even Mycenae, Lyrnessus was hardly a city. So run down was the defense wall that it took very little for his men and him to break through. He wondered what Lyrnessus had been like when Briseis had lived there. "You have a brother?"
"I had a twin brother, Bienor. He too was brought to Troy when our parents were gone." Briseis could still recall how brave Bienor had tried to be when they were presented to their Uncle and other relatives. The memory was one that still made her smile and she did so as she related the tale to Achilles. "Bienor had this little wooden sword that my father had made for him and when we first met Paris apparently he and Bienor had a difference of opinion. Bienor clocked Paris right on the head with the little wooden sword." She was giggling by the time she finished her story.
"It sounds like your brother was a sensible boy even as a child." Achilles smirked, rolling a piece of broken rock between his fingers, the tossed the pebble. "I will assume that he and Paris did not get along."
Briseis shook her head still giggling. "Not particularly. They tolerated each other for my sake, but Bienor excelled at things that Paris did not. Bienor wanted to be just like Hector and I don't think he ever truly understood Paris' lack of motivation in achieving the type of reputation that Hector had."
Achilles rubbed a trickle of sweat from his chin, flicking it to the ground before speaking. "I must agree, your cousin Paris does not strike me as a highly motivated man when it comes to the battlefield." After watching the young Prince fight Menelaus, Achilles opinion of Paris had not changed.
Briseis simply nodded at his appraisal of her cousin. For a few moments, she remained quiet and she felt Achilles eyes move over her. His fingers brushed a sweaty lock of hair away from her forehead before caressing her cheek. She closed her eyes, enjoying the moment of tenderness.
Her cheeks were quite red from the heat; her hair was damp and clinging to her skin; she looked beautiful. Achilles traced her jaw line for a few moments more before pulling his hand away. "Tell me, what happened to Bienor?"
She sighed looking down at her hands. "When we were thirteen summers old, Bienor went hunting with Hector and some of the other men of court. They were on their way back to the city when Bienor's horse was spooked. The horse went wild; Bienor was thrown off and he broke his neck. He died instantly."
Taking one of her hands in his, Achilles couldn't help but admire the woman before him. To lose a sibling in the way she had must have been devastating, especially at such a young age. "You're a brave woman Briseis."
Briseis peered down at their joined hands, blushing at his compliment. She wiped her forehead with the other hand once again and it was then that Achilles noticed the ring on her finger.
He caught her hand in his own, bringing it closer to inspect the new bauble. "Where did this come from? I am quite certain my men would not have left this behind."
Even if she had wanted to pull her hand away, Achilles strength would have prevented her from doing so. Instead, she chose to scoot closer and gave him back one of his own coy smirks, "Indeed, unless it was well hidden in a place your men would not think to look."
Achilles smirked as his thumb drew circles over her hand. "Beautiful, brave, and clever; you never cease to amaze me". He brought her hand up to his lips, kissing her fingers. "It is a beautiful ring."
"It belonged to my mother, a gift from my father. Uncle Priam kept it in trust after she died and two years ago, he gave it to me. I hid it in one of the walls shortly before your men raided the temple." Briseis explained a proud expression on her face. "As hard as it was for me to part with it, the thought of some Greek soldier stealing it from me was unthinkable."
Shaking his head, Achilles kissed her hand once more. "On your hand is where it will remain, I promise you." He pulled her closer to him, letting her put her head on his shoulder. Briseis did so without hesitation.
"Thank you." Briseis whispered her eyes once more focused upon the place she once called home.
Andromache hurried down the hallway towards Paris' chambers. Helen had come running into her chambers while she was bathing Astyanax. The blonde beauty was practically in tears babbling about Briseis being alive and Paris wanting to attack the Greek camp to retrieve his cousin. Andromache wanted answers.
She found Paris pacing back and forth before the fire pit in his chambers. His expression was grim, but it softened when he saw her enter the room. She entered his chambers and swiftly made her way over to him. "Paris, Helen just came to me. She said she overheard you saying that Briseis was alive. Is it true?"
Paris grimaced. "Father wanted to wait until after tonight. He did not want to upset you further."
Andromache gripped Paris' hands, "Then it is true, Briseis is alive? Hector's little cousin lives?"
Such joy he saw in Andromache's eyes; Paris almost wished he did not have to crush it. "She lives sister, but she remains in the Greek camp…with Achilles." Paris said the name with venom in his voice.
Pulling her hands away, Andromache gasped. "By the gods, Briseis trapped with that…that…beast of a man." She sat down upon one of the benches.
Paris ran a hand through his hair and sat down beside her. He had no comfort to offer her, only more unhappy news. "Father insists that Achilles freed her," he paused "but that Briseis refused to return to Troy."
"That does not make sense. Why would she want to stay there?" Andromache placed a hand upon her chest. The very thought of Briseis with Hector's killer was enough to turn her blood cold.
"Father said Briseis had changed. He said that she has broken her vows to Apollo and that the choice to do so was her own. I could not believe my ears when he told me." Paris put his head in his hands.
Andromache could barely catch her breath. It just wasn't possible, it couldn't be. "No, he must be mistaken." There was no way she would ever believe such a thing.
Paris raised his eyes, taking one of Andromache's hands in his own. "I wish it were not true, but…"
"NO! I will not believe that Briseis would ever betray Hector in such a way." Andromache ripped her hand away. Tears began to cascade down her cheeks. "That monster has her and we must get her back."
"Andromache, sister please, I want to bring her home as well, but father will not allow it. He says he will do nothing to break the peace with Achilles." Paris grumbled. He had been all too eager to rescue his cousin, but Priam had forbidden him to do so.
Andromache turned to look at her brother in law. While tears still trickled down her face, there was a look of hate in her eyes. "What does that monster know of peace? He murdered your brother, my husband and dragged his body across the sands. Who knows what abominable things he has done to Briseis?"
Paris looked away, completely frustrated. Every impulse inside was telling him to go after Briseis. Perhaps if she they could get her away from Achilles, who was obviously influencing her decisions, they could undo the damage that had been done. "What would you have me do sister?"
The princess looked down, gazing fiercely at Paris. "Do what your brother would have done. Bring your beloved cousin home where she belongs." Without another word, Andromache departed.
She left Paris to ponder whether he wanted to live with the certain guilt he would feel at not granting her wish or if he would disobey his fathers command to save his cousin and redeem himself in the eyes of his people.
As the sun began to set, the Trojan people assembled before the large funeral pyre of their fallen Prince. Priam and Paris climbed the steps up to where Hectors body already lay. The two princesses sat silently in front of the temple of Poseidon, little Astyanax cradled in Helen's arms instead of his mothers, who was trembling too much to hold her son.
The crowd grew silent as Priam stepped closer to the body of his son. Frail hands placed two gold coins over the princes' eyes. The priests had done their job well enough, but the marks left behind on Hector's body from Achilles' treatment were painfully obvious. Priam leaned down and gently kissed Hector's cold forehead.
Down below, one of the priestesses began the ceremonial wailing. Lysander, Hector's second in command, handed two torches to Paris before climbing back down. Handing one over to his father, Paris then walked to one of the pyre. Together, the King and Prince slowly ignited the wood.
As her husbands' body began to burn, Andromache bowed her head, the tears rolling down her already damp cheeks. The agonizing pain that clenched her heart would never end, not until her husbands' killer had met his end. She gazed over at the empty chair to her left. Briseis should have been there to mourn her cousin. Andromache only prayed that Paris would heed her words and pull Hector's precious cousin out of the clutches of that Greek monster.
Helen watched with sad eyes as her husbands brother was sent on his final journey. Her eyes drifted down to the small infant in her arms. The little boy held a wooden lion in his small hand; his fathers last gift to him. While he did not cry, his young eyes exuded a sense that he knew something somber was occurring.
Priam breathed a deep sigh of pain as he watched the fire lick at Hector's body. A hand came to rest upon his shoulder and he turned to follow Paris down the steps of the pyre. The wailing continued as the fire grew, completely enveloping the princes' body.
As the people mourned, one thing ran through many minds.
Without a protector, Troy was more vulnerable than ever.
Across the sand, atop the temple of Apollo, Briseis saw the smoke rise from the city. She gripped Achilles hand tight, trying to maintain her composure. She had wept so much for Hector already; it amazed her she had any tears left.
Achilles bowed his head in respect. 'We'll meet again my brother.' He had whispered those words to Hectors body before delivering him back to his father. One day he hoped he could ask both Hector and Patrocleus for forgiveness. The small hand holding onto his, tightened once more. More than anything, he longed to take back the hurt he had caused Briseis.
'Goodbye Hector', Briseis whispered the words in her mind. Even though the words went unspoken aloud, they were enough to break the hold she had on her emotions. Overcome by tears the threatened to never end, she soon found herself cradled in Achilles arms.
He held onto her as she let go an ocean of tears, something he had been unable to do during his own cousins' funeral. Men were supposed to be stronger, especially the great Achilles. Weeping over loss was for the women. When Patrocleus' died he was so consumed with anger and guilt, there had been no time to feel true grief. Strangely, with Hector's death Greece's greatest warrior had been reduced to tears.
Eventually, the smoke rising from the funeral pyre dissipated. Briseis had cried herself out hours before. She wiped her eyes one last time and Achilles helped her to stand up. With one final glance at the city, the pair slowly made their way back down. As they were coming out of the temple, the skies opened and it began to rain.
Achilles nearly cursed the gods for the weather. Wrapping an arm around Briseis, he quickly hurried her down the temple stairs towards their horses. "Hopefully, Eudorus will be prepared and have a warm bath prepared for when we return." He gave her a smile as he helped her onto her horse.
Briseis smiled back at him as the rain beat down upon them. After the incredibly hot day, the rain was both cool and refreshing. Still, the rain dampened her clothes and would eventually send a chill through her body. "A warm bath would be nice." She leaned down, kissing his lips.
He kissed her lightly before handing her the reigns of her horse. Then he climbed atop Balios guiding the horse towards the steep hill. Briseis gripped the reigns and her horse followed closely beside Balios.
A streak of lighting lit up the night sky and a loud crash of thunder caused Briseis' horse to rear up in fright. Her hands slipped off the reigns as she tumbled off the side screaming.
Achilles turned his head and watched in horror as her body hit the sand, rolling down the steep embankment. Her body's momentum took her about midway down before she came to rest, her face in the sand.
He wanted to move, to run after her, but he couldn't. In his mind, he was pleading with her to move, to get up.
All his pleas went unanswered.
Tbc
Well there it is the second chapter of Bed of Flames and I've left you with a cliffhanger. Could I be any crueler? I hope you enjoyed this one and that you'll stick around for what I think will be the final chapter. Please leave me some feedback. Thanks!
