So finally, after a long, long time here is the long awaited chapter. I am very sorry for those who waited so long just to read another chapter of this story: / I will try not to take too much time to update. It can contains some errors.
The sounds of shield against shield, steel against steel, and bodies against bodies made themselves heard. The Greeks were unprepared, as Alessandra had noticed. They threw themselves at the children of Troy, trying to find a breach in their formation, but it was too late for some of them.
The first opponent came running, protected in his Greek armor and spear. His expression showed nothing but concentration and coolness. He didn't seem to know who he was going to fight. But when Alessandra approached still mounted on her strong stallion, the brown eyes of the man shone, a faint and opaque glow. Confusion... fear... Fear of dying in the war or fear of dying at the feet of the Princess of Troy? Alessandra liked to think that he was afraid of her. Of her and her sword.
The man roared, determined, throwing the sharp weapon against her, not thinking of any other attack strategy. Alessandra tilted her head slightly to the left, listening to the sound of the spear cutting through the air at her ear. The grief of her Greek adversary to draw the sword from his belt had cost him his life. The moment his second weapon produced a loud sound to be drawn, Alessandra's was already blazing in the sun, blinding him momentarily when she raised her arm, and quickly pierced his bowels. Breathing had become void. Released blood blisters in the mouth and stared into her eyes - eyes so different these -, the last thing he saw was the woman who had taken his life. The body fell to the ground, freeing itself from the enemy blade and did not move anymore. However, Alessandra didn't have time to admire her work. She quickly turned her body, still mounted on her horse, and with her sword still raised, cut off the sensitive skin of the throat of another man approaching from behind. A shower of blood came out of the deep cut and splashed into her chest and stomach. He had been making company to his Greek brothers on the floor.
Thunder whinnied loudly, alert and furious. It almost was hit by an enemy spear. Alessandra felt her temper rising, an electric current rushing furiously through her veins. Had her blood been replaced by one of the rays of the God of the Gods? She wasn't surprised at all if she had received some gift of the divinity for that fight. She looked at the man who had tried to hit her horse - certainly with the goal of throwing her on the ground and then piercing her body. He was tall and full of muscle. His thin lips had a smile of contempt.
Alessandra swore that if the same one approaches more, she would remove the helmet and would open his skull in two. With her own hands.
But she didn't.
She picked up her spear, the one she had not worn today, and with an amused smile (perhaps to provoke him), she threw it.
It flew, fast as an arrow, strong as an eagle ready to catch its prey with its sharp claws. The spear had been thrown so hard and so fast that it was able to pierce the helmet and into his forehead, the force of the impact shattering his head. When the huge body lost its balance and stretched out on the floor, the satisfaction that Alessandra feel had been gratifying. She was satisfied.
She looked around. Hector was not far away. And Achilles? Was he still seeing her? Was he still watching her as she reaped the life to his Greek companions? Alessandra knew where he was, but she didn't look. That he saw how much of a good warrior she was. That he saw how fought the one that one day, perhaps closer than he thought, would cut his throat.
But ..., she thought, unexpectedly and surprising herself with her strange line of thought, would she be capable of such thing? Could she kill something so beautiful and strong, something so carefully crafted by the Gods, made especially to provoke her?
She would rather not think about it for now.
She had a battle to win.
Arrow after arrow flew from the top of the walls successfully reaching the enemy people. Precisely she regained her spear, just in time to throw it again as another man approached, panting, with his hands full of blood.
Alessandra remembered the stories that Ares had told her several years before, even before the blood of the first death at the hands of the Princess of Troy was poured out:
"You, mortals, feel remorse and that feeling is dangerous. Guilt can lead a human to madness, and sometimes it can lead to death too." He said as he watched her polish her shield. "We, Gods, don't feel such thing, and even if we do feel it, it is something fleeting, painless, something that does not leave us scarred, not like you. So try to always see your enemies as animals and you will not feel guilty, you may feel sad for a moment, but it is the law of survival. In war it's the same: You kill or you are killed!"
And that was something Alessandra had always tried to keep. She saw the adversary as a simple animal and nothing more. Not a human being, not a person fighting to stay alive, but an animal and nothing more than that.
Once more, Alessandra looked around. She could not see Hector anywhere. The downcast bodies clustered on the ground around her in a perfect circle that she had to jump to continue her fight. The Trojan warrior had not noticed it sooner, but a trickle of blood trickled from a small cut on her right thigh, an arrow that shed her leg.
Suddenly, as if by the will of the gods (and Alessandra was sure it was really their desire), the soldiers, still struggling, cleared the way and the warrior had been able to see Ajax for the second time on that long, tiring day. He was pure muscle and strength, the remaining men would never be able to stop him. But Alessandra was not a man.
Calmly, almost ignoring the battle around him, the princess of Troy came forward with a single purpose in mind: to kill Ajax and save the lives of hundreds of her men. Not that Alessandra wanted to kill him, far from it, at another time or in another life they might have been allies, maybe even friends ... but not at that moment. There they were enemies, two people so equal and yet so different.
Ajax finally saw her, walking gracefully up to him, with an almost divine aura. Her feet found the bloodied floor in confident steps, so lightly that she seemed to be dancing to the most beautiful music. Her dark braid swayed in the gleaming helmet and a small (almost imperceptible) smile held on her lips.
Their gaze met, and they both had a notion that only one would come out alive.
Alessandra finally reached him, and with a small sigh of remorse, she threw her spear. It flew quickly, but not with full strength and speed. Anyone who witnessed this duel would immediately know that the Blessed of the God of War was not really fighting when Ajax was able to stop the weapon with his shield. He knew it too, and he didn't like it.
Furiously, he swung the heavy shield, watching Alessandra slip away easily. He rocked over and over and over again, but Alessandra kept drifting away, her reddened eyes holding a strange glow. Was it fear? Ajax wanted to think so, but even he knew that this woman would never feel such a thing. So what was that ?!
"Fight!" He shouted, throwing his shield in the direction of the adversary, who with a small sigh of boredom turned away. "Fight me!"
The warhammer that he wielded was almost his size, and yet he had not been able to hit her once. How was that possible? He saw the red of her blood dripping from a small wound on her leg, someone had already injured her before, so why could not he, one of the best warriors in Greece?
"Why do not you fight me, Princess?"
"If I raise this sword..." Alessandra began to tell him with a huge weight on her voice "You will die."
And it was then that Ajax realized that the gleam in her eyes was nothing but pity.
Snarling, he replied, "I have no intention of dying today."
"Then let's leave our lives in the hands of the gods, and let them choose our destiny."
And more words were not uttered by the woman's lips. Quickly, with a speed that Ajax had barely seen, she raised her sword in a sharp blow that the warrior had only been able to interrupt because the blade shone in the sun.
The following blows were all diverted, either by Alessandra or by Ajax.
But it was then that in the middle of the fight, Alessandra became distracted. She could hardly believe she had made such a mistake, and she also knew that at this moment, Ares should be cursing at the annoyance of her stupidity. But she had not restrained herself from looking away from her opponent as soon as she heard her brother's cry. Hector had been knocked off his horse a few feet away and had spotted his sister. They both nodded at each other, but in the midst of this exchange of glances, Hector screamed in alarm and Alessandra felt a huge pain in her stomach as she fell to the floor.
She gasped for air, the strong thud of Ajax's warhammer making her gasp. Her sword had dropped a foot away from her as did her helmet. However, she wasted no time in stretching and picking up the sword, ignoring the pain, and getting up. Ajax had drawn the long, dark braid, dragging her to him as he smashed her body into his steel grip.
"Alessandra!" Hector shouted, preparing to help her, but being intercepted by a soldier. "Alessandra!"
Ajax laughed, a laugh so loud and strong that even the gods themselves should be able to hear. Narrowing his grip, he said loudly to everyone around him to listen:
"Is this the best of Troy?!" He scoffed. "The Warrior Princess who never lost a battle?"
And then, again, an endless fire ran all over Alessandra's body, leaving no room for anything more than her fiery fury. With reddish eyes flashing madly, she had pulled her head back and with all her strength, had struck Ajax's forehead with her own.
Ajax roared again, releasing her and grabbing his forehead in pain. And that was all Alessandra had needed. Catching once more on the fallen sword, and with an alarming speed and almost impossible to accompany by all those who were able to witness the moment, the princess had surrounded the body of Ajax, delivering a blow so fast and precise that first nobody thought to have hit the target.
But it was then that Ajax's knees buckled, blood dripping down his flesh as he fell to the ground. Alessandra had cut off his tendons, and the strong warrior had not been able to stand up. He clapped his fists in his chest in frustration as he made another useless attempt to rise and finally faced Alessandra.
"I never lost." The princess of that city answered.
"Kill me then."
"In another life we could have been allies." she commented.
The man nodded. "If I have to die, I wish your sword to take my life," said Ajax, his dark eyes showing sincerity. He didn't want to die, it was true, but he would face it as he had always done.
"It was an honor to fight with you. I wish we could have fought on the same side." Alessandra answered hoarsely.
"Like me, Princess of Troy." He smothered Ajax. "Hurry, sister, you have more enemies to kill."
The term was not used to identify the woman as his blood sister. In fact, Ajax and Alessandra had never met before. The term had been used to express his admiration for her, that she was a woman, a princess, and yet a warrior. Ajax had seen her slit the throat and pierced the guts of his Greek companions with the greatest ease and in such delicate way that she seemed to fly, to dance, while the clang of swords was heard. She was his enemy in that battle, but she had earned his respect.
They were brothers, not bound by the bonds of blood which was traditionally what indicated .someone as a family, but by every tiny bronze particle, tin, or any other material constituting the blades of their weapons.
Ajax of Greece and Alessandra of Troy were brothers of swords and brothers of war. The battlefield had been their births, it was their lives and it would be their deaths. War was their destiny, and both were proud of it.
Blood pumped into their ears. All around was a black, misshapen mass.
"We'll meet soon, my brother."
And with a slight nod from Ajax, and a swift sword movement from Alessandra, Ajax the Great was dead.
The cries of the Trojan people resounded everywhere, while the word that Ajax had been killed at the hands of the princess spread, but Alessandra couldn't accompany them in the euphoria.
The big man's body lay there on his back, motionless, with hot blood still bubbling from his throat open and dark eyes staring at the sky unfocused. Alessandra knelt down, and with care and with a brief prayer she closed them.
"Well done." A hoarse, loud voice whispered in her ear, and she didn't need to look to know she wouldn't see anyone. Ares had the habit of expressing his contentment when his blessed one fought. "You gave him a warrior's death."
And without further ado, Alessandra spun on her heel and continued to fight.
Far away, still perched on top of a hill with a perfect view of the battle ahead, Achilles and his Myrmidons watched intently.
"Look!" One of them had said, but at that moment Achilles didn't bother to identify who. "Ajax is fighting the Princess of Troy."
Quick were directing their gaze on the two mentioned, staring in amazement. Alessandra was quick and Ajax was strong. They shied away from opposing strikes quickly.
"It's clear that Ajax will win." Said Patroclus.
There were several times that Achilles would agree with him, after all Ajax was also a great warrior, but by the stories and all that Achilles had seen, Alessandra was one watched as the princess let herseld be distracted, receiving the impact of Ajax warhammer in the stomach. Anyone else would not get up, but Alessandra did. He also saw her be dragged by her braid - Ajax's fingers curling into the silky and dark strands of her hair - and a shiver ran through his body and when he watched her be crushed by the man. He felt like jumping and ... and what? What would he do? Would he kill Ajax to help her? Would he be able to turn against Greece for a woman? He was not sure.
"I told you." Patroclus came back to speak. "She has no chance, Ajax is ..." But whatever he would said, he said no more, for the words were not able to leave his mouth because of the shock.
In a startling turn, the princess hit the Greek in the forehead, seized the sword, and had quickly attacked him, bringing him to his knees before her.
The Myrmidons watched as the two warriors exchanged words, and at last Alessandra lifted the sword that had gleamed in the sun, cutting Ajax's throat.
"Impossible!"
"Ajax is dead!"
"My Lord, what shall we do?"
Achilles didn't look away from the Alessandra's beautiful figure, who had never seemed more beautiful and fierce than she had now, and replied, "Nothing."
"But, Achilles, she just killed Ajax. A Greek companion." Patroclus had told him.
"Several of the bodies lying on the ground at this time are Greek. Ajax will be remembered as one of the best warriors in Greece but he knew what he was getting into. In war, there are always losses." Achilles looked back, admiring Alessandra closing the eyes of his fallen friend.
From there it was all a blur. Agamemnon had been foolish enough to let the Greek army get too close to the high walls of Troy from where the archers were quick to launch their arrows leading several lives with them and if it were not for Odysseus many more would be lost.
The Trojans were quick to chase them back to the beach, not realizing that they would be within range of the enemy arrows were it not for Hector and Alessandra, back in to their horses, galloping quickly, stopping them.
Achilles saw the children of Troy make way for their prince and princess to pass. Alessandra's hair was now loose and scattered in the wind, the bright threads flying in the air like waves. How he wanted to run his fingers through them and know if they were as soft as he imagined. They were about to reach the gates when, suddenly, Alessandra stopped.
She turned her head and looked directly at him.
Achilles didn't see it, but he imagined she was smiling. He imagined a provocative smile slowly appearing on the princess's beautiful lips. Achilles was also sure that her eyes so different were shining…
He licked his lips, watching as she threw her head back in a laugh, her hair scattered, the skin on her neck glinting temptingly.
With a nod, she straightened and galloped quickly until she disappeared through the gates.
