Children of Troy
A Troy sequel by talking2myself
DISCLAIMER: See chapter 1
Chapter. 9 Seeds of Doubt
Menoetius moved through the market like a night wind, silent and unseen. He made it quickly back to the ports. Though he was surprised to see a new vessel. A royal one. He scowled angrily. Paris! He had caught up quicker than he thought possible. Perhaps a father's rage had driven him this far. Menoetius stared at the ship in disgust. He too was a father. He had known the ultimate pain thanks to this man and his family. He would never be able to see Patroclus again nor Achilles. Both were so young. Both had so much promise. Patroclus would never grow up and become a father. Achilles would never see his child.
A slight figure scampered across the deck catching Menoetius's eye. He leaned far over the side of the ship looking out at the distance. It was Neo and he was looking for Paris. Rage burned like a fire deep in Menoetius's heart. Achilles's son had been raised by his father's killer. The way he looked at Paris, so full of trust and love, was enough to turn Menoetius's stomach.
He watched the boy pace across the deck impatiently, sometimes glancing over his shoulder as though to make sure he wasn't being watched by Ajax or some other guardian. A small smirk crossed Menoetius's lips. He would never hurt his dear nephew's son, but perhaps it was time Neoptolemus knew the truth of his heritage... and Astynax's.
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The manor that Stephanos lived in was easily the most elegant villa that Comus had ever seen. Of course, living in the humble kingdom of Kerbero hadn't exactly prepared him for this type of luxury. Comus spent the first five minutes gawking at the marble walls and ceilings all intricately painted. Sculptures hung everywhere and there were gardens full of lush green plants and bright blooming flowers surrounding the house.
"Stop that staring!" Stephanos barked. Comus paid attention immediately, "Sir, perhaps, now would be a good time to tell you..."
"You'll tell me nothing!" Stephanos snapped, "The only thing you need to tell me is when you're done dusting the sculptures. He handed Comus a rag. "It's hard to get good help around here. With our new self-righteous king and queen forcing all these new anti-slave trade rules down our throats. Orestes would have never let this sort of thing happen!" Stephanos stomped out of the room, still muttering about how Mycenae was going to the dogs.
Comus let out a heavy sigh and began polishing a statue of a tall man with curly hair. A thick layer of dust smudged his hands and the cloth. "Great!" Comus said before looking up at the statue, "You know a fine looking fellow like you should really bathe more often."
A soft sound echoed in the large halls. It was a sound that Comus knew well. One of his favorite sounds. Laughter. It instantly made him think of his younger sister Hermione. Comus turned around looking for the source of the laugh.
Hiding in a corner behind an ornate vase was a tiny girl, very small for her age of about seven. Comus smiled and continued his work. "Honestly," Comus continued talking to the statue, "Don't you have some lady sculpture to impress? No you probably scare them off with all the dust in your ears!" The girl's laughter echoed again. Comus looked around the corner at her. As soon as she saw him the girl dove behind the vase again. Comus fixed a mock scowl on his face, "Now see what you've gone and done!" he cried at her, "You scared her off." Comus walked over to where she was hiding. The girl smiled up at him. She had brown hair and eyes and her nose was dotted lightly with freckles.
"You're very funny," she said.
"Thank you, milady," Comus said with a comic bow. The girl giggled again. "And who might you be?"
"Cynna," the girl said shyly.
"A lovely name."
Cynna blushed fiercely. "What are you doing hiding behind...?"
"CYNNA!" Stephanos's bellow could have woken the dead. He came charging forwards throwing Comus roughly out of the way. "What are you doing out of bed?!"
"Just going for a walk, papa," Cynna said.
Papa?! Comus thought with horror.
"And where are your nurses?!" Stephanos demanded boosting her up.
Cynna shrugged, "Probably still looking for me."
"Back to bed immediately," Stephanos cried.
"Did you buy me a jester, papa?" Cynna asked.
"A what?!" Stephanos blustered.
"A jester!" Cynna said, "Because I like him! He's very funny and really nice. Can he come back to my chambers and play with me?"
Stephanos looked from Comus to Cynna and then back to Comus as though demanding an explanation. Comus shrugged helplessly. "Very well, my darling," he said, "You go up ahead. Comus will join you shortly." He set his daughter on the ground and watched her skip back to her room with a fond smile. The smile faded when he glared at Comus. "Look here, whelp!" he said, "Cynna means the world to me, but she has never been a healthy child. She requires constant care and no rough housing. You will be kind and respect her every wish. Do you understand?!"
"I understand, but sir I'm not courting her!" Comus said.
"Go!" Stephanos snarled, "And now this. Her happiness depends on you. And your happiness will ultimately depend on her."
"Yes sir," Comus said swallowing hard.
As he left Stephanos gave him a wistful look, "It's been months since I've heard her laugh. I suppose I should thank you for that." With that he hurried away. Comus watched in amazement. This man may seem like a blowhard, but he clearly had a soft spot for his daughter.
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Neo was impatiently skipping stones across the water as he waited for Paris and Andromache to return. He detested waiting. It was a childlike habit that he had never quite grown out of. He was always eager for something to happen. And he felt about as useful as a sack of dung waiting here right now. He should be out there looking for his cousins!
Suddenly, a shadow hung over him sending shivers down his spine. He whirled around to face Menoetius. Neo's mouth hung open. "Y-you!"
"Easy boy, I won't hurt you," Menoetius said, "I would never hurt Achilles's boy."
"Paris will be back!" Neo cried, "He'll be back anytime!"
"I'm sure he will," Menoetius said casually, "You trust him so well."
"Of course I do!" Neo said vehemently, "What did you do with my cousins?!"
"They're out of my hands by now, boy," Menoetius shrugged.
"What?!" Neo cried throwing himself at him. Menoetius shoved him aside lightly. "How could you?!" Neo demanded.
"Perhaps you'd change your tone if you knew half the things I know about your cousins," Menoetius snapped. Neo struggled not to listen to him. He's lying! Whatever he means he's lying! Don't listen!
But Neo couldn't help himself, "What do you mean?!" he asked.
"Did you ever wonder how your father died?" Menoetius asked.
"No!" Neo said fiercely, "He died in the Trojan War."
Menoetius grinned at him, "I bet Paris told you that."
"Yes," Neo said, "As well as my mother and Andromache."
"Yes, yes," Menoetius said distractedly, "Though they seem to be mum on how he died."
Neo stared at him blankly, "What?!"
Menoetius gave him a smug smile before leaving the ship, "Ask your precious uncle. As you said he'll be here soon. So I best leave now." He nimbly leapt over the ship and landed on the dock. He could hear Neo hollering for Ajax now it a frantic panicked voice. Menoetius smiled to himself. The seeds of doubt had been planted. Neo would discover the truth before long.
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Astynax didn't know where he was going. He figured that he was the only one left on the ship. It had been a long time since he had heard Comus shifting around in the cell next door and Maragon's temper fits were a thing of the past. Astynax huddled in his cell weeping softly something he hadn't allowed himself to do since he was a child. He missed his mother dearly. They only had each other in the world. Andromache was probably worried sick right now.
A bright light shone in the door. Menoetius reached in and hauled Astynax to his feet. "Come!" he said fiercely throwing him out onto the main deck. Astynax looked around at the new location in amazement. It was no where he had ever seen before.
"Where are we?" Astynax asked.
"Sparta." Menoetius said pulling Astynax along.
"Sparta?!" Astynax echoed in disbelief. His dear aunt Helen was originally from Sparta. She spoke of Sparta very seldomly. She told him only that it was a war filled city state. One that she never wanted to go back to.
Menoetius continued to drag Astynax along. Astynax frowned as he saw another cowled man stand there. Was there no end to this man's contacts?! Menoetius nodded briefly. "Theoxenos."
Theoxenos nodded, "The boy goes to the War Games?"
"Aye," Menoetius said shoving Astynax forwards, "Send him to the king with my compliments."
Asytnax tried to fight, but the new stranger seemed even stronger than Menoetius. "Come, boy," Theoxenos said evenly, "It'll make it easier for both of us."
As Menoetius disappeared in the crowd Astynax bellowed after him. "I'll get you for this someday, Menoetius! By the Gods I'll find a way!" Theoxenos finally managed to yank Astynax through the crowds. Menoetius watched him vanish emotionlessly, but deep inside he felt a twinge of fear. The utter hatred coming out of that child's voice was enough to rattle him. Menoetius tried to shake it off. No. He would never see him again. The War Games would take care of that. Menoetius returned to his ship and prepared to set sail immediately. He didn't want Paris to catch up any more than he already had. Paris was doubtlessly still in Mycenae attempting to track down his wayward children. Menoetius planned on staying clear of that area and heading out into open sea. But no matter what he did, Menoetius couldn't shake the dreadful feeling. He couldn't forget Astynax's words ringing in his head. The seeds of doubt had been planted again.
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"THAT SCUM WAS ON MY SHIP!" Ajax bellowed as Neo told him the story, "THAT MAN WAS THREATENING MY GODSON?!?!"
"Please, calm down, Ajax," Neo asked though his hands were still shaking.
"I can't simply remain calm!" Ajax cried, "If Paris finds this out..." he shivered at the thought. "No. He can't find out! He'd be furious and Andromache..." Another shiver. Ajax slumped back into a chair muttering to himself, "By the Gods this would have never happened if Achilles were..."
Neo cringed at the name, "Ajax?"
"Yes, my boy," Ajax said massaging his temples trying to relieve his pounding head.
"You've told me everything about my father," Neo said, "What he looked like. The battles he fought. How he met my mother." A small smile crept across Ajax's face when Neo mentioned Briseis. "You told me everything... except one thing." Ajax frowned.
"What did Menoetius tell you?" Ajax asked gravely.
Neo's gray eyes met Ajax's, "He told me I should ask Uncle Paris... how my father died."
Ajax frowned and stared at the ground. He knew that this could happen. All of them had known it. Achilles's death had always been the greatest secret of the Trojan war. There were a thousand reasons why they didn't talk about it. It was hard for both Briseis, Paris and Andromache. Ajax let out a heavy sigh. Now it was time to open old wounds again.
"Neo, I think we should wait for your uncle to return," Ajax said with a heavy sigh, "He should be here." Though Ajax had no idea what Paris would tell Neo, he knew that it would change his godson's life forever.
