Chapter 8
"Tomorrow Never Knows"
Since Priam had decided that Glaucus and Hector would lead a small contingent across the sea to Thessaly, discussions of strategy, planning for their journey and arrival, and preparations were in full swing once more. Hector insisted he have as active a role in every decision as he could, and already he wanted to show his father what he was capable of. The meticulous detail with which they examined every aspect and planned for any possible deviations was somewhat exhausting but necessary. Glaucus and Hector easily put their prior disagreement and fight behind them so that they could work together. Conversely, Priam still seemed angry with Hector, and the prince and his father barely spoke a word to the other when it did not concern his upcoming departure. During their last encounter with the Thracian diplomats, they had been given details as to the size of the Thracian army, where their camps were located, what knowledge they had of Thessaly's army, and other pertinent information. It had been decided that the best point of arrival was further north than the actual battle near the mouth of the Haliacmon River with the Pieres tribe where they would set up camp. It was close enough to the battle to travel there in under a day, but it was far enough away that it wouldn't seem as though they were immediately involved. This would make the voyage across the Aegean Sea much shorter than Hector had initially anticipated, and this pleased him because he would be in the exciting throws of war somewhat sooner.
During the day, the prince had a full schedule, but at night, he inevitably was left to his own devices. Lately, this involved replaying his last encounter with Myrina over and over in his mind. The manner in which things were left didn't sit well with him, and he didn't like the idea of sailing across the Aegean without saying a proper goodbye. After all, she was one of his few friends, and he wanted the chance to see her a final time before he left and right any ill feelings between them. That, however, was easier said than done. Swallowing his pride and making the effort to see her was a difficult thing for the prince to do though it was an action he seemed to be taking more and more often with her, and he wasn't entirely sure what that said about his character.
After dinner one night, his mother took his arm and guided him away from the rest of the group to speak with him. Hector didn't often spend time with Hecuba ever since he had grown older, but he loved her dearly as any child loves their mother; and like most mothers, Hecuba had a sixth sense when it concerned her children. This opportunity to travel to Greece signaled a distinct, important transformation in Hector's life, and Hecuba would not miss a chance to speak with him about it before he left.
"You have become so involved in your planning that I have not been able to discuss it with you," she commented as they strolled casually through the palace and toward the royal quarters.
"We've not had much time," Hector explained hastily in case his mother were offended that he hadn't spoken with her in quite some time. "The Thracians need our support as soon as we can offer it."
"And what support are you willing to give?"
"We will bring supplies to them, perhaps discuss war strategy with them, and if the Aetolians join Thessaly, we will undoubtedly enter the war." Hector noticed the slight excitement in his tone and quickly added, "But not before. Father thinks we should wait."
"You say you will not fight," she murmured gently. She had an innate ability to read his thoughts without Hector uttering a word to deceive them. Clearly she understood her son would somehow find a way to enter into battle –especially without Priam looming over him and forcing his will.
"I have given my word."
Hecuba smiled softly at her son in a way that silently told him she knew far better than to believe war would be avoided. His initial, inactive presence in Greece would simply be a formality. "It will be difficult to stand aside when your allies are racing into battle. You're still young. You crave adventure and excitement, and it is only natural; but I do worry about your eagerness for combat… I worry you will let your enthusiasm cloud your judgment."
"I won't." A now well-known frustration resurfaced within him. It seemed that constantly others were doubting his abilities, and he was so exhausted from attempting to prove himself. Yes, he did wish for battle. He wanted it if only to show that he could handle it, and that he was worthy of their respect and trust. Perhaps he was inexperienced, but that did not automatically make him incompetent. "Why does everyone doubt me?"
She read his emotions easily enough and wished she could reach out and stroke his hair comfortingly as she had when he was boy. However, she recognized his need for space and independence at this age so she refrained from such a tender gesture. Treating him like a child would only anger him further. "It is not doubt, Hector. War is a difficult matter for a king to handle, let alone a prince. If this is not a conflict which directly impacts Troy, then why become involved?"
"How can you say that this will not directly impact Troy? The Thracians border us directly to the north and east. Our alliance is necessary but fragile, yet everyone behaves as if the Thracians will support Troy regardless of our actions. What cause will they have to come to our aid should we ever call on them if we do not even feign an interest in this war?" He peered at his mother with intense eyes, showing his determination and resolve on the topic, and continued, "I will rule these lands one day, and I won't allow a break in our bonds so long as I can avoid it. I care about my country and my countrymen, and I would not sail to Greece if I did not believe it were the best choice for Troy's future."
At his words, there was a shimmer of something lining the dark depths of Hecuba's eyes, and in the dim torchlight of the corridor, Hector strained to pick it out and identify it. When his mother spoke next, he recognized it in her voice. "You will make a wise king one day." She was proud. "You care about Troy and its allies… But when you are older, you may recognize that you must choose your battles wisely. Not every war which involves our allies is meant to also include Troy. It is a difficult decision to make and one that shouldn't be taken lightly, but as a king, you'll realize that there are times we are meant to participate and others where we should simply watch."
Hector dropped his gaze at his mother's wisdom, gained from years spent at Priam's side. "Father believes this is such a battle… Do you as well?" Though she was a woman, she was the Queen of Troy, and she had more power than many likely suspected. While Priam was the head who made the final decisions, Hecuba was the neck, and she had ways of turning the head however she pleased. Obviously, this was the prince seeking some verbalized form of reassurance. With his mother, he unwittingly allowed a glimpse of his uncertainty. Unlike his father, Hecuba was much more gentle toward Hector, and it was easier for him to garner her approval.
Her eyes reflected the warmth of the torches, and her hand rested on his shoulder, causing him to meet her gaze once more. Within them lay the reassurance he sought. Though Hecuba did not agree with his leaving, she understood that nothing would change his mind. Instead, he needed someone to bolster him, and for the moment, Hecuba helped him remember his strength. "If you think that this is what must be done, then nothing else matters. Never forget that you will rule these lands, and you have as much right to voice your opinions as the others. Trust your instincts. Remain strong in the face of opposition." Hector's brow knit, and she saw his resolve growing with her every word. "You have learned to fight with your head." Her hand moved from his shoulder, and her palm flattened against his chest. "Now you must fight with your heart."
Her voice resounded deep within him, awaking the part of him that was strong, determined, and confident. It seemed that her advice not only applied to his current situation where he was fighting to be recognized as a man, but also for the future where he would soon be immersed in war. Finding the courage to trust himself was difficult now that he was stepping out of his father's shadow and rising to become his own man, but at that moment, Hector felt invincible. Noting the change in his stance, Hecuba smiled broadly to encourage his transformation. "When do you sail?"
"Three... Four days at the most."
"I will miss you terribly," she confessed with a bittersweet smile, "but I hope you will find what you are searching for in Greece."
"I will." He couldn't believe that there were any other options.
The woman patted his chest gently as if to silently remind him of her recent words, but Hector wouldn't forget them any time soon. With that, she decided, "It is time for me to retire for the night. You should get your rest as well. It will be few and far between while you're at sea."
They parted, and Hector returned to his chambers where the reality of his mission set in. During the past week, he had been so consumed by planning that he hadn't realized how imminent his departure truly was. He sat on the edge of his bed while his mind raced over all the details, and he attempted to imagine himself arriving on the shores of Greece. His heart beat anxiously, and in his excitement, sleep evaded him that night.
"Do not work it so long," Isidora chided from behind the young girl.
Her sharp voice cut through Myrina's daydream and caused the girl to jump slightly. For over a week now, Myrina had not been entirely present in reality. Naturally, her thoughts concerned her friend who would be sailing across the sea to war. He had said two weeks, and she counted the days off in her mind. Thus far it had been ten days since she had last seen him, and the number burned in her mind as a constant warning. Had he left already without saying goodbye? Would he not see her again after she had snapped at him? Though she didn't deserve a chance to apologize for her irrational, emotional behavior, she had vainly hoped the gods would pity her and send the prince her way one final time. Her blue-green eyes considered the lump of dough before her, and she realized she had no idea how long she had stood there kneading it. For good measure, she pressed the heel of her hand across it and rolled it, gauging its resistance. Isidora had been right to stop her, or she would have over worked the dough while lost in her thoughts. Without a word, she set it aside to rise before they baked it to accompany the soup for supper.
"It is a wonder your feet are on the ground, your head has been so far in the clouds," the older woman grumbled irritably. Her words went in one ear and out the other for Myrina who didn't even grant her enough attention to register the mild insult. This only proved to annoy the servant further who pushed the vegetables toward her. "Cut these, will you?" Numbly she grabbed the knife and began slicing them for the soup while Isidora slipped outside to undoubtedly gather something else. Considering her lack of attention, Isidora had been forced to pick up her slack which could account for her current bout of frustration. Myrina would have felt guilty were she conscious enough to notice it, but as it were, she couldn't take her mind off of her friend. She feared she would never see him again, and the pessimistic thought was haunting her incessantly.
A shift of movement to her left didn't immediately catch her attention until she vaguely registered the size of the form ducking through the doorway. Her head turned curiously to inspect the latest addition to the room, and her breath caught in her throat as the tall stranger pulled back the hood of his cloak. Her heart paused as she stared him in complete surprise, but a sharp sting brought her back to the present moment. With a glance down at her hand, she realized that in her shock she had cut her finger rather deeply. She hissed under her breath at the sight and dropped the knife with a clatter onto the kitchen table.
"Let me see it." He was beside her before she even registered he had moved. His mere presence had stunned her, and her actions were sluggish as the numb surprise worked its way through her system. He took her hand and inspected it momentarily to assess how bad the wound was before continuing, "You need to clean it." He grabbed the cup of leftover water Myrina had used to form the dough and poured the remainder over the wound. It stung, and she bit her lip against the pain though it was not unbearable. In fact, it was a distant throbbing lingering on the periphery of her consciousness since her full attention was on him. Her eyes scanned the familiar lines of his face, searching for some sign of an impostor, as if it were impossible for him to truly be standing there before her. He then grabbed a piece of cloth, checked that it was clean enough, and wrapped it tightly around the wound to slow the bleeding. His large hand encompassed hers to firmly hold the makeshift tourniquet in place, and his brow was knit in mild concern over his chestnut eyes which peered down at her as he asked, "Is that better?"
Her awestruck mind was slow to process what had occurred between them, and she was oblivious to anything he had said. Instead she admitted, "I thought you had left."
Hector smirked gently, amused by the statement. "You thought I would leave without seeing you?"
She blushed slightly when she realized he was making fun of her, but she still was too dumbfounded to adequately address and answer his questions. "I should not have said what I did to you the other day." The apology had nearly been choking her once she realized it was him, and she felt instant relief once she voiced it even without him accepting it. She simply needed him to hear it. "I don't know why I said that."
There was an abrupt cough from the doorway, and they both turned to see the source of the noise. Isidora stood at the entrance of the kitchen with a palm to her chest, pretending as though the cough had been real and not a way to draw their attention to her and hopefully startle them out of whatever she had caught them doing. They were standing less than a foot apart with him holding her hand, and they had been staring at each other so intently. Isidora assumed the worst. Nothing innocent happened with two young people so close together. At least that was what she thought. Hector was merely irritated by her interruption since he was accustomed to servants going out of their way to appear invisible around him. He had been gradually becoming more aware that Isidora had an ulterior motive and was protective of Myrina. Though on some level he could appreciate her concern for his young friend, it bothered him that she judged him so quickly. Myrina, on the other hand, took a step back, taking her injured hand with her. The prince released her hand, and only then did he notice how long he had been holding it. He supposed that was somewhat improper, but he did not see Myrina that way. Once Isidora was pleased with the increased distance between them, she stepped away though she was always within earshot to listen in on what was being said.
The pair were quiet for a moment, and Hector removed his cloak. The action spurred Myrina who quickly fetched him a cup of water, and they took their seats on the kitchen bench as always. The familiarity of this habit put them both at ease, and Myrina wondered, "When do you leave?"
"In a few days. Then it will be about two weeks before we reach the coast. Hopefully the gods smile on us, and we will have no trouble along the way."
"What will you do once there?"
"Set up camp," he said vaguely for he was not entirely sure himself. Though they had spent days planning for every possibility, there was no telling how the future would unfold. "Meet with the Thracian leaders. I will gather all the information I can on the war and then send a messenger back to Troy to tell my father and his council."
"The king will not go with you?"
"No. This is more of a scouting trip for the time being. He has no need to leave the city."
Myrina had never heard of anything to do with war aside from perhaps myths and stories her brothers had told her when she was younger. This, however, was real, and she drank in the new facts with interest. "You will lead them then?" she guessed.
Hector grinned proudly and nodded his head. "Yes. Myself and a general will take a group of men there."
She instantly recognized the significance of this and reflected back his excitement. "The seer's prophecy is already coming true."
This caused him to chuckle lightly. "It is a far way from this to commanding the Trojan army."
"You have to walk before you can run."
"I would rather run," he admitted with a hint of longing to his voice.
"You will." His gaze met hers, and her certainty in this statement made him smile. "But you men have no patience for waiting. If it is not immediate, you lose interest."
His dark eyes shone in amusement as he inquired, "And how have you come to know of men's impatience?"
"I have two older brothers," she reminded him easily. "I am well aware of men's impatience, pride, and stubbornness."
"Not every man possesses such qualities, Myrina."
"You have already shown one of them," she pointed out with a smile. "It's only a matter of time before I see the others."
"I would hate to disappoint you, but I'm afraid on this matter you are wrong."
"So you assume you are not like other men?"
Hector tilted his head somewhat at the question and decided, "In some ways I would like to think I am different."
She lifted an eyebrow and snapped back, "Pride."
The abrupt accusation surprised Hector, and he returned, "That is not pride. It is normal to say you are not like every other individual. You can't base your judgment off of something so trivial."
"Stubbornness."
His eyes narrowed, but anything he said in defense of himself would only further prove her right. She had trapped him, and she was beaming with pleasure at that fact. He had walked into it without assuming she had any ulterior motive, and using her naivety as a guise, she had tricked him. There was some part of him -his pride, unfortunately- that was frustrated, but looking down at her with her bright smile, he mainly felt amused by the little game. She may have won the first battle, but the war was far from finished. "You neglect to describe the characteristics of a woman."
Myrina eagerly faced the latest challenge. "I would be interested to hear what you think they are."
He paused to consider which qualities would incite her and give him the reaction he desired. At length, he offered, "Indecisive, impulsive, and overly emotional."
Her lips parted as the words hit her like a slap in the face. "How dare you say that all women possess such characteristics! You would not be here without a woman. Without wome-"
He cut her off with one word: "Emotional."
As he anticipated, it stopped her dead in her tracks as her mind realized he had tricked her as well, and the two peered at each other in equal amusement and frustration. "Fine." So it was a truce. At least until they found another topic to quarrel about. It evidently was in their nature to provoke each other -even when it was light-hearted, leaving some future argument on the horizon any time they met. For the moment, however, Myrina inevitably began considering his journey, and it made her time with him that much more important to her. "When will I see you again?"
Recognizing the shift in their conversation and consequent change in the mood, he confessed, "I cannot be sure. It could be two months at the earliest if we do not go to war, but if we do, then I'm not certain."
She dropped her head and considered her folded hands in her lap. "I waited five years to see you, and now you're leaving again."
Hector shifted and tried to think of some way to ease the sorrow in her voice. "It will not seem so long." This garnered him a disbelieving look, and he smiled as he teased, "You must be patient."
"You will be at war, running into battle, and I will be here... cooking and cleaning." The obvious juxtaposition between their two immediate futures clearly annoyed her, but she ignored it as she considered him earnestly. "Remember every detail because I will want to hear everything."
"I will," he promised. The goodbye had come at an advantageous time for the prince needed to return to the city anyway. He stood up to signal his leave, but Myrina didn't join him immediately as if she could will him to sit down and stay with her a little longer. His visit had passed so quickly, and of course she only realized this now that he was poised to depart.
Impulsively, she commanded, "Wait here a moment." She then hurried back to her room to retrieve her final gift and returned to him. She extended her uninjured hand and gave him the tarnished gold pin.
Hector smirked and carefully handled the aged token of their friendship before holding it out toward her. "You should keep it."
She pushed his hand away and assured him, "No... It may bring you luck." It was not the real reason she gave it to him, but she wouldn't admit her true intentions aloud. Part of her was selfish and afraid he would forget her while away. She hoped that by giving him the pin, he would have some piece of her and think of her each time he saw it. It was the best thing she could give to him.
His long fingers curled around the pin, pressing it firmly into the palm of his hand, and he was grateful for her generosity in giving it to him. Hector was not accustomed to goodbyes, and he struggled to find the proper words to say. Acknowledging the pin in his hand, he noted that perhaps there was nothing left to say. Consequently, he grabbed his cloak and headed out of the house with Myrina on his heels. When she saw them exit the home, Isidora left to retrieve his horse, and Myrina swore she had never seen the older woman hurry so swiftly. While they waited for her to return, they stood awkwardly beside each other, each attempting to process their own feelings on parting for an undecided period of time. The fact that their were no constraints to his journey, time stretched out infinitely in her mind, and she panicked slightly at how little she in fact had left with him. There were so many things she felt she should do or say, but they lumped up painfully in her throat; and she was unable to voice a single one. Isidora approached with the prince's horse in tow, and the weight of the situation bore down so heavily on Myrina's shoulders that her knees shook as if they might buckle at any second under the pressure. Her heart beat erratically beneath her chest, and it's pace nearly doubled with every step Isidora took. She turned her gaze to peer up at the now cloaked Hector, and she couldn't read his emotions since his face was hidden from sight. In a final attempt to hold onto their solidarity, she grabbed his arm and gasped around the words choking her, "Don't forget me."
The prince looked down at her, and despite the shadow thrown across his face, she felt the intensity of his gaze. He lifted his left hand where he was still holding the pin and presented it as evidence. "I'll remember." Somehow the horse was there, and he pulled his arm away as he mounted the steed and settled himself. Myrina moved closer to him than she should have, but there was some part of her that feared for the worst. What if he didn't return? A thousand endless, cruel thoughts plagued her mind in that moment, and she sought some sort of comfort by being near her friend. Isidora took her by the arm and pulled her away as Hector kicked his steed and galloped off toward the city. Myrina writhed against the old woman and easily broke her grip before she ran after him for a few feet to get a better view of his departure.
He didn't look back.
Three days later Hector was standing with his men at the port where they would sail for Greece. The morning sun's light cast shadows across the scene as the men loaded the last bits of cargo onto the two ships they would be taking. There would be about thirty men aboard each, and the soldiers that had been assigned to the task of accompanying the prince and general to Greece were already taking their positions. The Prince of Troy, however, lingered on the shore where several of his family members were waiting to see him off. It was his first trip away from home, and he felt suddenly important having all these people gathered for him. Priam appeared stoic as always where he stood overseeing everything with vague interest, and Hector respectfully approached him first.
He bowed his head and said, "I will send word as soon as I can."
"Remember your lessons. You will need everything you have learned to navigate this situation. Never act unless you are prepared to face the consequences." Priam's tone was neutral and undecipherable, so that Hector couldn't tell if his father was pleased or agitated by his departure. When his ice blue eyes slid around to consider the port, they paused briefly on Hector. The young man lifted his chin to meet his father's gaze, but the moment slipped away before he could learn anything from the king's eyes. "Do not forget you serve Troy and not the Thracian tribes."
"I will bring you honor," the young man assured him earnestly. Even if it killed him, he would uphold that promise above all others.
Once more Hector was met with Priam's blue eyes, and there was something in them he had never seen before in his life. Was his father nervous? Priam's face was neutral and stoic as it always was, but there was something about his tense figure that alerted Hector to a change in his demeanor. "Take Glaucus' advice. He has fought in my army for years, and he is a shrewd general." Hector nodded though he hated being reminded of his inexperience. Hopefully that would all change soon. "I pray the gods bless your voyage, my son."
"Thank you, father." With that, he moved on to his mother who was smiling proudly at him with so many emotions clearly written on her face -unlike her husband who seemed guarded that day.
The woman took Hector's face between her hands and reached up. Hector bent his head forward since he was taller and met the kiss she placed on his forehead. Though he felt he was too old for such a gesture, he welcomed it considering the circumstances. Hecuba's eyes shifted slightly, and she swallowed back her sadness and tears at seeing her son leave. "Remember what I told you," she murmured softly, "and you will be great."
Hector smiled down at his mother whom he loved dearly especially now that she eased the fears twisting his stomach up in knots. "I will." Reluctantly, he moved down the line to his younger brother Paris who was an evident nervous wreck. The older prince smirked affectionately at him while Paris peered up with wide doe eyes. Hector clapped him on the shoulder. "While I am gone, you are Troy's prince. Make me proud."
Paris nearly shuddered under his emotions, and he rushed forward to embrace Hector. At first Hector was stunned by the sudden action, and he felt slightly uncomfortable with it since they were in public. However, he humored his brother and patted him half-heartedly on the back before forcefully pushing Paris away. "Be careful, brother. I won't disappoint you. You will be surprised when you return and see how I have changed."
"I only hope that it will be a good surprise," Hector jested with a grin which Paris eagerly returned. The eldest Trojan prince said his goodbyes to the several more of his younger brothers since his sisters had not ventured out of the city walls to see him off. Once he reached the last one, he glanced back down the line and took a steadying breath. This was it. When he turned from them to approach his ship, his excitement and anticipation coiled around his chest, pressing down until it was hard to breathe, but it was somehow a pleasant feeling. After a few final adjustments, they were ready, and the two Trojan ships began their journey across the Aegean. Initially, Hector stood at the stern of the ship and watched the shores of Troy fade away. With every passing minute, his enthusiasm grew substantially, and it felt as though he were heading out on an adventure. He had dreamt of this day since he was a young boy, and now he was aware of every single minute detail as if any sudden shift might end it all; and Hector would wake up only to find the entire affair had been a figment of his imagination.
"You will see Troy again, my prince." Hector glanced over his shoulder and saw Glaucus standing behind him, donning a bemused smile at his evident excitement. "I'll be sure to keep you from harm."
Hector approached the general and nonchalantly rejoined, "Judging by our last duel, you may be the one who needs guarding."
Glaucus laughed heartily for he was in good spirits. Like Hector, he longed for battle as if it were his very life force. "When the time comes, we will see." Leaving it at that, the general turned to duck below deck.
Now that his attention had been drawn from his home, Hector moved toward the bow to gaze out over the horizon. Above him the white sail crackled under the pressure of the changing wind, and the strong sea breeze whipped his chestnut curls across his face. He squinted his eyes as he stared across the bright expanse with endless crests of waves upon the blue sea stretching out in front of him, and his focus was drawn to where it met the sky on the horizon.
What future awaited him on the coast he could not say, but he fearlessly faced the west with the sun rising behind him. It seemed like a good omen.
Author's Note: I want to point out if you look at ancient maps, the Bisaltae are farther north than I'm obviously claiming. I'm aware of this. This is my rendition of how they end up there. I want them to initially be settled south to the immediate west of the Pieres tribe, they obviously start spreading out too far south into Thessaly, and war happens. By the end, they'll be up where they're supposed to be haha On that note, I am trying very hard to do my research and keep things realistic (to the extent that I want haha), so sometimes these chapters with war strategy, etc. take a little longer because I want to find the right details and not BS everything ;) I also had to take defensive driving for a speeding ticket which takes forever… Ugh. "You should not make a U-turn if there is a chance that vehicles may hit you." Soooo enlightening. In happier news, I've already written a huge chunk of the next chapter, so hopefully it will be up soon :D
