Chance Encounter: Pirate Kingdom of Troy

Disclaimer: I don't own Balian, Legolas, Will, Jack, Hector, Paris...you get the idea. I'm just borrowing them without permission but with every intention of returning them, savvy?

Chapter 10: Sacrilege

Jack saw Will run past him. The next thing the pirate knew, a giant was charging at him with a war hammer of stone. He leapt out of the way, but the hammer hit his sword. It broke, leaving him with a stub of blade about six inches long.

"Bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger," said Jack, throwing the remnants of his sword at his enemy and searching about desperately for a weapon. His eye fell on Barbossa, and he reached out to grab the other pirate's pistol. Barbossa was too busy fighting to notice that he had been robbed. Jack quickly put a lead ball through the head of a Greek who was trying to kill him. The Greek's companion roared in anger and ran at Jack. "Sorry!" said Jack as he pushed past Greek and Trojan alike, trying to get away from the furious man and reloading the pistol at the same time.

Hector watched the battle with increasing worry. Thank the gods Balian had seen that they had been about to be flanked and had taken his own initiative to stop that from happening. Legolas' prowess was intimidating the Greeks who looked as if they wanted to flee from him but did not dare to do so without their commanders' consent. To his left, the giant Ajax was wreaking mayhem. No Trojan who tried to fight him survived, although Will served as an effective deterrent to Ajax, distracting him with quick darting moves. Most of the Trojans gave Ajax a wide berth.

The prince knew that the giant warrior's presence threatened to lower his troops' morale. He had to do something, as their commander. Hector hefted his spear and urged his horse forward towards the giant. As he readied to plunge the spear into Ajax's chest, Ajax swung his shield around. The spear went wide, and the horse was thrown onto its side. Hector flew several feet and landed on his back with the air driven from his lungs. Ajax lunged at the prince with his hammer raised, ready to bring it down on him. At the last moment, Hector snatched up a large shield that was lying next to him and brought it between himself and the rapidly falling hammer head. His other hand found a spear and he gripped it tightly. The hammer head smashed through the shield, stopping just an inch or so above Hector. The prince sent a swift prayer of thanks up to the gods.

Ajax watched the shield. It did not move. He snorted, satisfied that he had killed Hector, Prince of Troy and Light of the Dardan Lands. He was about to lift his hammer when the body beneath the shield suddenly came to life. Hector flung away the shield and Ajax's hammer along with it. He thrust the spear up the giant's ribcage. The bloody spearhead emerged from the other side.

Even though he was mortally wounded, Ajax still possessed strength which rivalled that of Heracles. With one swipe of his arm, he sent Hector flying. The giant broke off the shaft of the spear and used it as a weapon, bringing it down upon Hector's back. Hector drew his sword, and made ready to do battle with the wounded giant. Ajax managed to trap the prince and proceeded to crush him.

Jack knew he should do something, but he had run out of shots and he had no desire to throw away such a fine pistol. Barbossa would kill him. He saw a rock at his feet. He picked it up. It was roughly the weight of a coconut. The pirate gave it a few experimental tosses and then threw it. The rock hit the back of Ajax's head and bounced off, but it was enough to make him drop Hector, who promptly drove his sword into the giant's heart. Ajax staggered. His knees gave away beneath him and he toppled over onto the ground. Cheers erupted around Hector. Breathing rapidly, he pulled his sword out of the Greek.

"Jolly good effort, mate," called Jack as he picked up a fallen sword. "You owe me."

Hector had no time to say anything to the pirate. Glaucus, his father's old general, had brought him his horse. He mounted. From this height, he could see much better. The Greeks had ruined their formation while trying to flank the Trojans. It would be easy now just to force them back through sheer strength. "Push!" he shouted to his men. Behind their shields, the Trojans heaved, shoving the Greek force backwards. Trojan spears were thrust through the gaps between the shields.

Balian found himself in the front line, pushing together with the foot soldiers. It had been years since he'd done this. He grunted with the effort as he took another step forwards, forcing the Greeks to retreat. There was a red mist as Greek soldiers were brought down by archers on the top of the wall.

Odysseus didn't like what was happening. If nothing was done to stop the onslaught, there would be a massacre and he doubted the Greeks could emerge as victors. "You have to retreat!" he shouted to Agamemnon.

"My army's never lost a battle yet!" roared Agamemnon.

"You won't have an army if you don't fall back!"

From his sand dune, Achilles couldn't help but feel pleased that the Greeks had lost this battle. He knew he shouldn't be thinking like this but he was glad that Hector, a young man with an army half the size of Agamemnon's, had beaten the arrogant High King of Mycenae. 'Well done, Prince of Troy,' thought the Myrmidon warrior.

Patroclus was beside himself with frustration. "Achilles," he said. "If you were down there instead of up here, we wouldn't be beaten...Achilles? Are you actually pleased?!"

"Let's just say I prefer the Trojans to Agamemnon," said Achilles. He started to make his way back to the camp.

"But Achilles!" said the enraged Patroclus, storming after his stubborn cousin. "They're the enemy! Agamemnon is your king!"

"The Trojan prince fights his own battles. That's more than I can say for Agamemnon. If I wasn't born a Greek, I'd be fighting for him."

From his quarters, Paris heard the shouts and cheers as people celebrated the victory. Hector's victory. It made the younger prince feel even more ashamed of himself. He didn't deserve such a brother. He sighed. The pain of humiliation stung him like a thousand fire ants. He could not rid himself of it. 'Coward,' he thought. 'You're such a coward, Paris. Menelaus was right about one thing; you're not worthy of royalty.'
Helen grew more and more anxious as time went by. Paris had locked himself in his chambers and he refused to come out or to allow anyone to see him. She wrung her hands and paced outside his door, trying to think of ways to persuade him to let someone tend to his wounds. She saw Hector coming down the corridor. "Hector!" she cried. "Thank the gods! Paris won't come out, and he won't let anyone in. Maybe you can talk to him. He hasn't eaten anything and he won't let anyone tend to his wounds."

Hector knocked on Paris' door. "It's me, Paris," he said. "Open the door." There was no response. "Paris? Paris, if you don't open this door, I am going to ram it down." There was the grate of wood on the other side as Paris unlocked the door. It slowly opened. Paris looked awful. His leg wound was encrusted with blood and his face was haggard.

"Why have you come, Hector?" he croaked.

"Oh, Paris, I'm worried about you," said Hector. He reached out to embrace his younger brother but Paris shrank away.

"I don't deserve your love, or anyone else's," he said.

"Love doesn't have to be deserved, Paris," said Hector. "It is given freely. I love you because you are my brother. Now stop being silly and let someone clean your wound. I didn't go to all that trouble to save you just so you can die of blood poisoning."

Paris nodded, and Hector clapped him on the shoulder. He made to leave, but then turned back. "You'll make us all proud one day," he said. Paris watched his brother go. Hector's words reverberated in his mind and lifted his spirits. His brother had faith in him, even though he had shown himself to be a coward. The younger prince smiled for the first time since his defeat. He would not fail Hector.

"To victory!" said a very drunken Jack. He couldn't remember how many times he had said that already. Once more wouldn't do any harm. He brought his golden cup to his lips, sloshing liquid all over himself. These Trojans made some good stuff. It wasn't rum, but it was pretty bloody close as far as Jack was concerned.

"No thanks to you," muttered Balian as he polished an apple and watched Will show Legolas how to use a pistol. The elf was learning fast. The blacksmith sank his teeth into the fruit.

"Push the flint lock forwards first," said Will. "Now have your index finger on the trigger...yes, like that. Perfect. Now point it at something— I know it's tempting but no, you can't point it at Jack's cup. You might hit him instead."

Balian looked at his half finished apple. "Legolas, shoot this," he said, throwing it high into the air. Moving so quickly that none could follow, Legolas took aim and fired. Bits of apple showered down on them.

"Bravo," said Will. His eyes were full of admiration. Barbossa was clapping slowly while Jack the monkey screeched and blocked his ears, jumping up and down.

"Master Greenleaf, you are most welcome to join my crew," said Barbossa.

"With a shooter like that, the Greeks don't stand a chance," said Will.

"Too bad there's only one Legolas," said Balian.

"Achilles wasn't there today," said Legolas. "He's the only one worth mentioning. Without him, the Greeks were as organized as an Orc scout party."

Calchas quickly wrote another letter to Agamemnon. After today's victory, Priam wouldn't be very eager to kill anyone, not even for sacrilege. There was a village to the north of Troy. That was where a lot of supplies were stored. It was a stronghold, protected by the rocky and difficult terrain. There was only one way to get up to the village and only Trojans knew of that hidden path, which was hardly more than a goat track. The High Priest drew a map of the village and the secret path, and added detailed instructions telling Agamemnon how to get there. He sealed the letter and gave it to his mute servant to deliver.
Agamemnon peered into his cup, finding only bitter dregs resting at the bottom. He flung the vessel away angrily, splashing his advisor Nestor's cloak. "They're laughing at me in Troy," he said. "Drunk with victory!"

"Maybe we should go home," said Odysseus, rubbing his chin.

"I never abandon a campaign!" shouted Agamemnon.

"The men believe we came for Menelaus' wife," said Odysseus. "We won't be needing her anymore."

"My brother's blood still wets the sand and you insult him!" said Agamemnon, enraged at the Ithacan's bluntness.

"It is no insult to say that a dead man is dead," said Odysseus calmly.

Before the argument could go any further, a messenger rushed into the tent. "My lords," he said, kneeling before Agamemnon. "Sire, a Trojan emissary waits outside."

"Cut off his head and stick it on a spear!" shouted the High King of Mycenae.

"Wait," said Odysseus. "Send him in. He might have something useful to tell us."

The Trojan court was in an uproar. "The Greeks have sacked the village of Arenios, taking three months worth of supplies," read Glaucus from the report. "Three months! How did they even find their way up to the village? There is only one hidden goat trail!"

"It is the will of the gods," said Priam gravely.

"My king speaks truly," said Calchas, standing up to address the court. "The gods are punishing us, and rightly so, for the greatest sacrilege has been committed."

Priam stood up abruptly. His eyes were wild with religious fervour. "What sacrilege?" he demanded.

Instead of speaking, Calchas clapped his hands. Once, twice. Two lesser priests came forward, bearing on a little litter the sacred statue covered with rust coloured hand prints.

Murmurs of horror rippled through the assembled men. Balian began to feel uneasy. They were his bloody hand prints.

Aeneas and Hector both turned to look at the blacksmith. They knew that he had rescued the sacred statue from the temple during the first battle. Their eyes were full of worry. This was a serious breach of religious protocol. If it was indeed Balian who had brought the wrath of the gods upon Troy then, friend or not, he had to be punished in order to assuage the deities' anger.

"Someone has defiled the sacred figurine!" said Calchas. "He must be sought out, and made to pay the price!"

"Who did this vile thing?" demanded Priam. "Who?"

Legolas shook his head Balian, but the stubborn blacksmith stood up despite the warning. He knew that Calchas had seen him with the statue and there was no point in hiding it.

"Now that's stupid," said Jack quietly.

"I did," said Balian "unknowingly."

"Ignorance is no excuse," said Calchas. He had that foolish young man now. "The gods will punish us for this offence. They have already started! You have doomed us all!" Members of the Apollonian guard stepped forward, ready to seize Balian but the young man boldly approached the High Priest.

"I wonder if it was the gods, or someone else, who taught the Greeks how to sack the village of Arenios," said Balian. He and Calchas were standing less than a hand span apart. The two men circled each other, like mountain lions getting ready to fight.

"Legolas, we have to do something," whispered Will to the elf. "He's going to get himself killed!"

"I think he's getting at something," said the elf softly. "I know him well enough to know that he isn't trying to commit suicide, although it might seem like it."

"Still, something needs to be done!"

"What do you suggest we do?" hissed the elf, who was also trying to figure out what Balian was trying to do with his seemingly suicidal actions.

"I'm thinking," said Will. "I'm thinking very hard."

"If such a small offence can bring upon us the wrath of your gods, then by rights the Greeks should be utterly destroyed," Balian continued "for they desecrated the temple and even the golden statue of Apollo was beheaded! And yet, the Greeks have managed to sack the village. Don't the gods care, or can't they care or..." He turned back to the High Priest "maybe you've misinterpreted the divine intentions?"

"He really has gone too far," said Will.

Legolas didn't say anything. He was too busy noting everyone else's reactions. Priam was furious, and the princes were tense. They had caught Balian's meaning.

"You know, I support him, mind and soul, just not in body," said Jack.

"Recent events have led me to believe that there is a traitor in our midst," said Balian. "And you do not need to look further than your own High Priest!"

Chaos erupted. Everyone started shouting! "He's a liar!" roared the noblemen, most of whom were Calchas' supporters. "He has no proof! Your majesty, you cannot let him get away with this!"

Priam raised a hand. Everyone fell silent, looking at him with apprehension. "I have heard enough of this blasphemous talk, foreigner," said the King. "You shall insult neither the gods nor their servants anymore!"

The Apollonian guard seized Balian. He struggled against them as they tried to make him kneel. One man kneed him in the stomach, making him double over in pain. Another kicked him behind his legs, causing him to fall to his knees. There was a crack as he landed on the stone floor.

Legolas made to run to him, but Barbossa restrained him. "You'll not be doin' him any favours by gettin' yourself killed," said the old pirate. "Live today; fight tomorrow. We'll be needin' a plan to save him."

"Barbossa's right," said Will. "We can't save him through brute force."

"Your majesty!" shouted Balian. "Who is in charge? You? The gods? Or is it Calchas? He is the one giving the orders, using the name of the gods!"

It took all of Legolas' control to make him stay still as Calchas struck Balian hard across the face to silence him. One of the heavy rings he wore tore through the flesh on Balian's cheek. The cold edge of a blade was placed against the young man's neck, drawing a thin line of glistening red which stood out starkly against his skin.

"You say any more, and we'll cut you here," said Calchas quietly so that only Balian could hear. "And then you won't be able to say anything ever again." He turned to the guards. "Take him away!"

Hector wanted desperately to do something, but he could only watch on helplessly as they dragged Balian away, hitting him with their fists to subdue him. The man was right. The ruler of Troy wasn't Priam, and it definitely wasn't Hector.

It was Calchas.

A/N: Mwahahahaha! Calchas shows his true powers! I had been meaning to put the gods into this fic but then it's so much more fun having an evil High Priest pretending to be the gods. How will Balian get out of this one? Reviews, please?