I thought it was worth referencing the amount of sanitizing Peabody must do for Sherman. Founding Fathers owning slaves? Post-victory pillage of sacked city-states? Yeah, there's quite a bit Peabody is waiting until Sherman is older to explain.

Final chapter up next week.

Enjoy!

Both dog and boy were largely composed by the time the WABAC popped out into the starry sky over the fallen city of Troy.

"Now, Sherman, I want you to stay very, very close to me at all times," Peabody said. "This is an extremely dangerous situation. There will be periodic outbreaks of fighting and many people are being taken as slaves. I do not want you to be one of them."

"Okay, Mister Peabody."

"Do you still have your whistle?"

Sherman held it up. "Yep!"

"Good. If we do get separated, I want you to blow it the instant you realize you can't find me. Don't even waste time searching. Understood?"

"Yes, Mister Peabody."

Peabody set the WABAC down close to where it had landed the last time - thus making it easier for Sherman to find in an emergency - and peered at his son.

"You don't have to come with me if you would rather remain here. You'll have more than enough time to prove your superior mettle when Miss Grunion rejoins us in the WABAC for the ride home."

But Sherman shook his head. "That's okay. I…" He made an abortive motion as if to hold Peabody's paw again. Took a deep breath. "I want to stay with you."

What else could Peabody say to that? "Very well."

The WABAC provided appropriate clothes, Peabody this time taking care to dress Sherman as a regular boy and not in the uniform of any of the soldiers. Though the armor might have been helpful should danger occur, Peabody concluded that Sherman was more likely to avoid being attacked in the first place if he did not look like a threat. Not that Sherman had looked like much of a threat in the battle attire either. He was altogether too kind and gentle of a boy.

Peabody hoped that no matter how much Sherman grew and changed in years to come, that essence would always remain. The world needed more people like Sherman in every era.

As the pair left the WABAC and started the hike up to the Greek encampment around the destroyed walls of Troy, Sherman gulped, looking over his shoulder at the cliff where the ruined Trojan Horse had taken its great fall.

"I know it's upsetting," Peabody said, "but try not to dwell on it. We can talk about that later, too, if you wish."

"Sure. I mean, okay."

Peabody patted Sherman's shoulder. "And have more faith in me next time, Sherman. Had you waited even a few more minutes, you could have saved me a rather long and arduous climb."

"Sorry, Mister Peabody. When I yelled and you didn't answer...I thought..."

"I know what you thought." Peabody gave him a smile. "And, given the situation, you made the correct decision in returning home for me to help you. But, should we ever be separated in such a manner again, please give me at least an hour before you take off with the WABAC."

"Okay."

Peabody sighed, then put an arm around Sherman's shoulders, bringing their heads together. "There won't be a next time, Sherman. I promise not to fall over any cliffs riding in any more Trojan Horses."

That won him a huff of laughter. "Deal." Sherman relaxed under his father's touch. "So...what was supposed to happen to Mister Agamemnon after the battle, anyway?"

"Well, I'm afraid there's not much of a happy story to be had when it comes to the aftermath of the Battle of Troy, at least according to Homer and Aeschylus. Most sources suggest that Agamemnon returned home successfully, only to meet a rather unfortunate end at the hands of his wife and her, uh, friend."

"He's married?" Sherman asked, surprised. "Then why did he take Miss Grunion?"

"I'll tell you when you're older." Peabody was dreading the day that he would have to stop censoring all the questions his son had asked over the years about various famous people and events. Some people, he knew, would lose Sherman's respect forever once he learned all the details Peabody had avoided thus far. "Let's just say he wanted a friend of his own."

"Oh. Okay." He considered. "She's not really very nice, though."

Peabody chuckled. "Neither is Agamemnon. I can understand the appeal. Like calls to like, after all."

Sherman's eyes widened. "Like you and me, Mister Peabody?"

Peabody's heart warmed. "Yes, Sherman. Exactly like you and me." He took a few quick steps to get out in front of the boy. "Now, let us find our friend Agamemnon and retrieve Miss Grunion before she has anything more than an inconvenience to blame us for. By my calculations, she has only been here a matter of seconds. I just hope Agamemnon is behaving himself."

Together, the pair managed to get through the first few rows of tents before they were stopped by the first soldier.

"Who goes there?" demanded the very large, heavily armed Greek man.

"Greetings. Peabody here. I was hoping to speak to my friend, King Agamemnon. Would you happen to know where we might find him?"

The soldier looked doubtfully at Peabody, but then his gaze shifted. "Shermanos! You are well!"

"Uh, yeah. Hi!" Sherman waved.

"When we did not see you after the battle, we feared you had failed your test of manhood."

"Well, I might have," Sherman said. "But my dad saved me."

The soldier looked at Peabody again. "Ah! So you are the one who snuck into our horse in a horse of your own. Very tricky. Odysseus is still angry that he was bested by you."

"Yes, well, be that as it may, I'm sure you can understand that we would like to see King Agamemnon and thank him for his assistance in these matters." Peabody didn't like the way the soldier was looking at Sherman. He seemed to be a half-second away from scooping the boy up and trotting off with him to some victory celebration or other.

Considering exactly how the invading army at Troy celebrated their victory, Peabody would rather Sherman stay as far away from all that as possible.

"Of course. King Agamemnon was last seen investigating what became of our horse. I believe he wished to see if it could be repaired to stand as a testament to his victory."

"Did he say where he was going afterwards?" Peabody asked. Given that Agamemnon had appeared in the future with a company of Greek soldiers alongside said half-ruined horse, this confirmed the timing of the space-time rip's influence here.

"To the great hall of Troy. I think he's commissioning a statue of himself upon Hector's throne."

"Ah. Thank you for your assistance." Peabody began steering Sherman away.

The soldier yelled after him, "Shermanos! As you are now truly a man, come! Come and be initiated into all that a man deserves when he defeats his enemy!"

"No, thank you!" Sherman called back. "Maybe later."

"Definitely not later," Peabody said under his breath.

They encountered several more guards and soldiers as they headed deeper into the ruined city, but now that Peabody knew where they had to go, it was far easier to simply greet them and continue on without providing any opportunities for the well-meaning (and not-so-well-meaning) among them to 'initiate Sherman into manhood.'

Finally reaching the great hall of Troy, the doors smashed open and burned, Peabody paused.

"Now, Sherman, stay behind me and cover your ears. Keep your eyes to the floor. I will let you know if it is safe for you to look up."

"How come?"

"You're just going to have to trust me."

Sherman thought about some of the spots Peabody had fastidiously avoided, and a few times he had seen a smear of something red before his attention was redirected, and he nodded. He clapped his hands over his ears and fixed his gaze on his father's tail.

"Ready."

Peabody tugged at Sherman's toga to get him moving and they entered the hall to the sound of flesh striking flesh and then a multitude of cheers.

Peabody sped forward, trusting Sherman to stay with him. A knot of Greek warriors, some of whom still carried slices of pizza, were crowded at the far end of the once-great chamber. Peabody navigated through stocky bodies and long legs with horror in his heart.

To find Agamemnon blinking and rubbing his jaw while Miss Grunion glared murderously at him.

"How dare you! Where are we? What happened?"

Peabody tapped Sherman on the shoulder, indicating the boy could look up. If circumstances had been different, if events had unfolded with the barbary Peabody knew was going on with other women taken as slaves by the men of Greece, he would have turned right around and made his son wait in the WABAC while he extricated Miss Grunion. But Miss Grunion and Agamemnon and the others were clearly only recently arrived, and nothing untoward had yet occurred.

Peabody might rather have let Sherman avoid the ugliness sure to follow as well, but Sherman had the right to be here; this was his life they were fighting over. If Miss Grunion was going to make her threats, he had earned the right to face her.

Peabody cleared his throat. "Please forgive this inconvenience. I'm afraid our friend here was a little...overzealous. You see, in this era, it is a fairly normal practice to - "

Miss Grunion rounded on Peabody with fire and fury in her eyes. "You! This is your fault, you mutt!"

"No, it wasn't!" Sherman piped up, angry and scared all at once.

"And you are going to get a proper lesson in manners, Sherman!" she shot back. "I only hope it's not too late to repair the damage done to you by that dog."

Miss Grunion began to advance on them. There was no force on Earth strong enough to keep Peabody from wrapping one of Sherman's hands in his paw and shifting his son behind him, edging away from her.

"Now, I realize we have some things to resolve, but first we must return to our correct time and location," he said.

"Not happening!" Agamemnon strode over and scooped Miss Grunion up in his arms again. "I caught her! She's mine!"

Miss Grunion promptly kicked him soundly in the kneecap and he buckled, releasing her with a groan.

"Wow. What a creature."

Miss Grunion glared at the other warriors, all of whom backed up slowly into a much wider circle, leaving space around her, Agamemnon, and Peabody and Sherman.

"You see, Miss Grunion, this is a very complex situation," Peabody said, still shifting sideways and keeping himself between her and Sherman. "I believe we would be best served to resolve our interpersonal differences in more modern surroundings."

"Interpersonal?" She gave a cruel smile. "That assumes that you are a person and not a mongrel."

"He's not!" Sherman cried out.

Peabody squeezed Sherman's hand and gave a slight shake of the head. "Thank you, but there's no need to defend my honor at this moment."

"Sure there is," Sherman said quietly. "It's my fault we're in this mess in the first place."

"We'll talk about that later."

"I highly doubt that," Miss Grunion said. "When I report everything that's happened tonight to the proper authorities, you won't even be granted visitation rights before you're locked away in the pound for good!" She folded her hands before her and affected a smug smile.

Sherman gasped. But then he stuck his chin out boldly. "Not a very nice thing to say to the people who can take you home again! We could have just left you here!"

"You still could!" Agamemnon put in, a bit too eagerly.

"Quiet, you!" Then Miss Grunion narrowed her eyes at Sherman. "I have warned you once. You will start behaving like a proper, normal little boy and not like the freak who has had too much influence over you for too long - or you will be punished."

Peabody went utterly still. His ears folded back and his tail went out straight.

"Do not threaten my son. Ever."

"That boy could never be your son!"

Peabody began to growl low in his chest. There was every possibility he would lunge at her as he had back in the penthouse, so lost in his rage was he - until Sherman pulled out of his grasp and darted around him, blocking his father and holding out both arms protectively while he faced the woman who threatened them both.

"I will always be his son!" Sherman said. And there was no waver in his voice now, no fear. "No matter what happens, no matter where you take me!"

"Yes, yes, you said so before. You're a dog, too." Miss Grunion's voice dripped with disgust.

"And I always will be!" Sherman shot back. "My name is Sherman Hector Peabody and even if you could change it - "

"Which you won't," Peabody put in from behind him with a tone full of menace.

" - Even if you could, you can't change me! You can't change who I am!"

"Well said, Brother Shermanos!" Agamemnon yelled.

Miss Grunion moved closer, leaning down to Sherman's level. "I look forward to the challenge. I would like nothing more than to prove you utterly wrong." She smiled an ugly, dark smile. "Let me assure you, if you test me on this, you will regret it."

Peabody longed to pull Sherman back, to protect him once more. But his son stood firm, guarding him, protecting him from Miss Grunion.

"And I assure you," Sherman said, meeting her glare for glare, "that I will never stop fighting you, no matter what it takes or what you do to try to scare me. Not if it means I get to stay with my dad."

The pride in the dog's chest burned so bright, it could have fueled the WABAC a thousand times over.

"So...let me get this straight." Agamemnon wandered closer, though he stayed out of range of Miss Grunion's fists and feet. "The Grunion," he looked wistfully at her, "wishes to remove Shermanos from his father. Shermanos does not want to be removed."

He paused, stroking his chin.

"That seems very familiar somehow."

"It is rather our own personal Trojan War," Peabody said quietly. "Though I am very concerned about which side you associate with myself."

Sherman looked over his shoulder. "Does that make me Helen?"

"I'm afraid so."

Sherman groaned.

Agamemnon grinned. "But we know how to win this kind of battle! We fight!"

Peabody grabbed Sherman's elbow and swiftly reversed their positions, tucking his boy tight to his back. But when he spoke, his voice was calm and even. "I believe we are somewhat outnumbered. A martial solution to this situation would hardly be fair."

"What about single combat?" Agamemnon asked. "It is my turn. Odysseus and Achilles had all the fun the last time!"

Miss Grunion glared at the nearest soldier. "What exactly is he suggesting?"

The Greek soldier gave her an awkward salute. "That you and Peabody fight each other and the victor will claim ownership over Shermanos."

She looked down her nose at Peabody. "I have no issue kicking a bad dog, but I'm not going to give you grounds to plead a defense for yourself against me - if you ever even see a court of law again."

Peabody huffed but said nothing.

Miss Grunion leered at Sherman. "Do you really think the court won't do exactly what we both know they will? They'll put him down like the dog he is. I only hope I can be there to watch it happen."

Sherman's expression cracked and he let out a tiny, involuntary sound of distress.

Miss Grunion looked back at the soldier. "It doesn't matter to me if he is humiliated here as well. I just want him gone and that child in a real home. But I am not fighting that dog. It could weaken my case against him."

"Oh, but you would threaten a child, would you?" Peabody shot back. "It would give me no pleasure to battle with you anyway."

That was a terrible lie; at the moment, he would have happily pounded her into dust. His blood was singing with protectiveness for his child, with the danger in the air to the only thing he truly loved, and all his canine posturing instincts were rattling in his head like so many clanking gears.

Peabody would later blame the heat of the moment for what he said next.

"There is no time or place in which you could ever defeat me and take Sherman away."

"Aha!" Agamemnon raised a fist with triumph. "So you accept the Grunion's challenge! Let us have combat to settle this matter once and for all!"

The soldiers roared in approval.

Miss Grunion stamped her foot. "Do you louts even use your brains? I am not fighting that dog!"

"Oh, beautiful Grunion." Agamemnon bowed before her. "Please, let me be your sword in this combat. I shall defeat Mister Peabody and win you ownership of Shermanos. And in return, I would ask that you take me as husband."

Miss Grunion stared at him, frowning. "Take you as what?"

"Spoiler alert," Peabody said, not at all sorry about the malicious glee in his smile. "He's already married."

Miss Grunion promptly slapped Agamemnon across the face.

"Ooh." He sighed with bliss and rubbed at the mark on his cheek from her hand. Then he shrugged. "It wasn't really my idea in the first place. My old man set it up. Between the two of them, I wouldn't be surprised if I ended up dead in the bathtub one of these days. At least then he'd be able to pick a different king."

Peabody raised an eyebrow in Sherman's direction and gave him a meaningful look. Sherman gulped, understanding.

"However." Agamemnon turned back to Miss Grunion. "If I could run away with you and live out my days worshiping the ground you walk on, I would be the happiest man in Greece. Please. Let me prove my devotion. I will destroy Mister Peabody. And Shermanos can be your slave."

"I can what now?" Sherman asked, huddling closer to his father.

"It's all right," Peabody said. "It's not going to come to that."

Miss Grunion looked down at the dog protecting his son and then turned a sinister smile on Agamemnon.

"Given that we are outside my jurisdiction, I suppose it makes sense to abide by the laws that are in force here. I would be honored if you would help me in my quest."

She gestured back at Peabody.

"Finish him, soldier-boy, and we'll talk about worshipping later."

"Mister Peabody?" Sherman asked.

Peabody turned to his son and held his shoulders in paws that did not quite shake.

"It's going to be all right, Sherman. You must trust me. This isn't what I intended, but it may work in our favor."

Sherman eyed Agamemnon fawning over Miss Grunion. "But...Mister Peabody…"

"I know. King Agamemnon was legendary in his prowess on the battlefield." Peabody put a paw on Sherman's head and pushed his hair back in an affectionate pat. "But I am your father. And you know I'm no slouch when it comes to defending myself."

"I know, but…"

"Trust me, Sherman."

Peabody turned to face Agamemnon, only to feel a pair of thin arms encircle him from behind.

"I'm so sorry," Sherman whimpered into his shoulder. "This is all my fault. You were right. I really am a bad boy."

Peabody's heart stuttered at that, ice running into his veins.

"No, Sherman," he said, making his voice as warm as he could. "You aren't. I was wrong. You are the very best boy a dog could ever have."

He extricated himself and looked back to see Sherman's eyes welling with tears.

"Now. Stay back and do not interfere. I don't want you to get hurt."

Sherman sniffled. "Okay, Mister Peabody."

"And when I am finished here, we will have that talk."

"Not when you're lying on the ground in a pile of broken bones!" Agamemnon yelled. Then he gave a half-smile. "No offense."

Peabody faced his opponent and shook his head.

"None taken. However, I shall not permit you to defeat me, Agamemnon. If you wish to live a life with Miss Grunion over there, I admit I don't really care."

His eyes narrowed.

"But my son is involved. My son. And I will protect him from you and everything that could hurt him until there is no breath left in my body."

Miss Grunion snorted. "We'll see about that."

"Yes." Peabody met her eyes and his resolve hardened to impossible tensile strengths. "We will."