Paris's Battle Chapter 4
Achilles was surprised at how easy it was to get into the Trojans palace but the was soon justified. He was guarded by heavily armed guards and escorted to the king's throne after being thoroughly checked for weapons. The Trojans palace he had to admit was a well built place, a bit dark but still magnificent. The Kings throne was spectacular. The room it was in was even more impressive; it was a large room with high ceilings and large archways and pillars spread evenly around the room and large glass windows open up to a large private clear that held a large oak tree in its middle.
But do think Achilles would have gotten in the kings throne room so quickly! No! He first was lead through a small dark passageway, off the main courtyard and was taken to stone room where he was striped of his weapons and shield. He was roughly checked over by six guards before he was lead through a mass of complicated tunnels only to end up back where he was lead in. Under heavily armed guards Achilles was lead to the King's throne. Sitting high on a large comfortable looking chair sat a forlorn looking Trojan King. His face was grey with worry lines stretched across his forehead.
He would have asked why the king was so depressed, he had won a vicious battle, but he soon remembered the fate of the king's youngest son and his reason for being there. The king looked upon Achilles with saddened eyes, searching for help.
"What business do you have here?" King Prima simply stated rather than questioned it,
"If it is any concern to you, I think I might have a plan to help save your youngest son." Achilles said with confidence, "My Lord." He added hastily though mentally slapping himself for the obvious mistake.
The King's eyes lightened slightly at the proposal. "What do you have in mind, young man?" The King failed miserably at hiding his enthusiasm.
"Let's just say I know a few tricks." Achilles said with a slight smile.
"Why should I trust you? Why are you helping Paris?" Prima wanted to believe his son could be saved but he wanted to know if this man wanted to truly help him or trick them.
"I have a feeling he has an important role in what is to come."
After Achilles council with the King, the King himself leaded him to Paris's chambers. But what Achilles was about to see was much worse than what he expected. He had expected blood, a great deal of it from Paris's body, to be strewn around the bed and everyone trending to him, he had also expected a pasty skinned Paris to be lying in a troubled unconsciousness with his madden weeping over him. All these, he saw but much worse than the he had pictured. The bed, even though he had been switched into a new one, was slowly adapting a red color as the blood trickled from Paris's wound, through the thick wads of bandages and on to the white linen below. There had been no hope of Paris living, for the sword had pierced through his stomach.
Achilles swallowed nervously. I hope this works! It better or else I'm going to get murdered by the Trojan Army!
Helen was pried from Paris's side but Hector stayed latched to his brothers hand.
"What is he doing here father?" Hector spat viscously at Achilles.
"Peace Hector, he is here to help." The King replied calmly.
He didn't know what to do, Paris was dieing, quickly. His skin was a pasty white and his bandaged stomach was thick with red, crimson liquid. He hesitantly placed his hand on Paris's cold forehead and closed his eyes. Remembering his mother's words he focused his attention of channelling his powers to Paris. A guard absently sniffed his nose and another tripped over a cloth on the floor. Achilles opened his eyes and took a deep breath and started again. He was once more interrupted by a loud cough and a couple pathetic sobs from Helen. Right, they have to go.
"I need quiet. Could you leave me, please, my lord?" Achilles asked quietly with a sheepish smile on his face.
"Alright as long as you don't try anything." King Prima eyed him suspiciously before ushering Helen and the guards out the door along with himself and closing the door. Achilles turned back the bed to see Hector sitting unmoved with his brother's lifeless hand in his.
"If you think I'm leaving you've got another thing coming." Hector said coldly.
Achilles just stared at him. "Fine as long as you do not make a sound." He replied equally as cold.
Achilles slowly placed his hand on Paris's forehead and closed his eyes. He focused entirely on, once more, channelling his powers to Paris through a mental link. His mind whirled and danced as power surged through his brain down his spine to his arm, travelling down to his sweaty palm. The power then stopped a moment to decide where it was being sent, then surged through the palm and into Paris's forehead and to his mind.
The sound was incredible, well lets say spectacular. As soon as the connection had reached Paris's mind he had woken, and lets also say that have power traversed directly to your mind isn't the most peasant event. Two blood-curing screams pierced the air, Paris from being shocked from near death and Achilles, as now he shared Paris's pain, from the searing agony ripping through his abdomen. Theoden and his guards came tearing into the room to find Paris sitting straight up in his bed with Achilles hovering overhead looking extremely fatigued and not to mention in pain. They both had their hands over their stomachs, even Achilles who wasn't even injured. Theoden ran to his son's side before looking over to see Achilles collapse in a chair then switched his view to his eldest son Hector. Hector just stood there stunned before stumbling to Paris's side and attempted to hush Paris's cries of agony.
Over the all commotion, Helen was crying for Paris as she tried to break through the jumble of guards who were crashing around tiring to get healers and supplies. But she only made it to the side of Achilles who was still collapsed in a chair completely out of it, so she lowered herself to the floor by the chair and watched the commotion threw blurry wet eyes.
Paris was breathing heavily and biting his lower lip in an attempt to muffle his cries, but the pain in his stomach was too much and he couldn't hold them back. Hector and his father were cradling him in their grips till they were torn away by the healers who tore Paris's bandages away and cleaned the blood from the wound to find that it had finally stopped bleeding even after his wakening. They then stitched up the wound and let Paris fall into a comfortable unconsciousness, stating that he was finally getting better.
In his deep peaceful sleep Achilles smiled to himself, it had worked.
I'm so sorry everyone! I haven't updated for umm lets see Opps… a month! Im sorry! I have no excuse why I didn't update but writers block and im sorry!
Thank YOU for the reviews! You don't know how much they mean to me! They helped me get this chapter done! Thank you ALL!
Piegon