A Prince's Journey

A Troy Sequel by talking2myself

DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything from Troy. Nope nothing!

Chapter. 10 Lady of Mycenae

"First thing we have to do is figure out where Odysseus is," Paris whispered to his comrades. They all were huddled together in their slave quarters using only the moonlight and talking to each other in hushed voices. All of them knew the frightful danger of getting caught. "I'm not entirely sure where they kept him."

"The Greek dungeons are legendary," Eugenios said," Our commanders warned us about being captured. They're called The Pits. Nearly impregnable. They always told us to slit our own throats before getting sent there!"

"Swell," Paris groaned. He wasn't the brilliant tactician that Odysseus had been. Of course, he wasn't as arrogant as Odysseus either so maybe this would go better. He didn't want to leave anything to chance.

"I have something that might help," Evadne said. She reached into the folds of her tunic and held out a bunch of red berries.

"Those are the same berries we crushed for painting Orestes's chambers!" Aeneas piped.

"Yes," Evadne said," They have many uses, healing wounds, painting, blush for maidens... but you never eat them."

"What do you mean, Evadne?" Anchises asked.

"It's called Blood of Mercury," Evadne said," We used to use it... at... at the temple." A small trace of sadness crept into Evadne's voice as she mentioned the Temple of Apollo. "It's useful," she continued," But when ingested it can lead to severe cases of indigestion and diarrhea."

"So?"

"So," Evadne continued," Did you remember when Paris spat into Orestes cup."

Aeneas snickered until he received a stern look from his father. "I mean, yes. I recall."

"Well, if we were to put these into his goblet he would be in pain for approximately three hours before the symptoms wore off," Evadne said pocketing the berries.

"The greatest three hours of my life!" Aeneas said.

"Well, at least we have a time frame," Paris said.

"We should get to sleep," Nomikos said," We'll need our strength for tomorrow."

"I'd like to see The Pits," Paris said," Soon. At least I can see what we're dealing with."

The next day Anchises managed to slip away with Paris while the others covered their work. The Pits were relatively close to the palace. It was said that Agamemnon had enjoyed torturing his prisoners when he had no other entertainment. Paris had no trouble believing that having seen the dead king's cruel side. They were underground. From the surface all you could see was an iron grating in the floor and a faint odor drifting in the air. A single guard was standing watch.

"One guard?" Paris asked.

"There's no need for more," Anchises said grimly," It doesn't look like much from this angle, but it's an impossible labyrinth underneath there. Filled with killers and criminals. If Odysseus is in there and we want to free him. We're going to have to be careful."

They left The Pits quickly."You're going to have to learn how to use that thing," Anchises said pointing to the ancient sword still in his belt. "It'll be dangerous in that cavern."

"Who's going to teach me?" Paris asked. Anchises held his arms out. "You?"

"I may look like a grizzled old timer," Anchises said," But I know more about fighting than any of them, even Eugenios though he won't admit it."

"How am I supposed to practice?" Paris asked," With one sword."

"We'll use sticks first," Anchises said," I don't trust you waving that thing around!"

"Thanks."

Their lessons couldn't begin immediately. They had other duties to take care of. Orestes had Paris helping him prepare for a dinner with a young lady. "I don't like her," Orestes said," Not really. But I need a treaty with her father and the other princes say she's good in bed."

Paris was disgusted. He was disgusted at the way Orestes was acting, but he was also unhappy with himself knowing that at one point he had acted the same way. "That's all that matters right?" Orestes asked coyly," You should know of all people."

"That Paris is no more," Paris said. He stood a short distance away. The traditional five steps.

"Oh come now," Orestes said with a sigh," Do you expect me to believe that one maiden completely changed your outlook on life?"

"I love her," Paris said softly.

"Love is foolish," Orestes said.

"Of course."

"What?" Orestes asked in surprise. Paris was not supposed to agree with that last comment.

"Love is foolish," Paris agreed," It knows no reason and doesn't care about your own plans."

"Doesn't care about the sanctity of marriage either," Orestes said.

"Do you believe in that sanctity?" Paris asked.

Orestes chuckled as he straightened his cape. He spun around once looking at himself in the mirror. Paris couldn't help, but look at himself. Thin, dirty, flushed from the sun, a long scar running across his cheek. He looked so beaten and defeated. His innocence had fled before the ravages of war.

"Love doesn't really matter to you anymore," Orestes said conversationally," Your lady will be gone."

"She'll wait!" Paris knew Orestes was setting a trap with his words, but the words came without him thinking.

"Do you really think so?" Orestes asked," What makes you think she can wait all these months? What makes you say she's even alive? Have you seen her?"

"My heart knows she's still alive!" Paris blurted. He had to hear those words. He had to hear himself say it! He had to believe it!

Orestes rolled his eyes before leaving the room," Your heart's as foolish as your head."

"Faster!" Anchises ordered as the two of them hopped around in a small courtyard that they were supposed to be raking. Each of them were armed with a long branch whittled down to sword size. Evadne and the twins were bustling about attempting to get their jobs done as well as Paris and Anchises's. Aeneas stood at one entrance of the courtyard Eugenios at the other.

Paris stumbled over his footing and fell to the ground. Anchises pointed his branch at his chest," You're dead."

Paris got to his feet. "This isn't a game, Paris!" Anchises said firmly," This is your life!"

"I know!" Paris grumbled retrieving his stick," Do it again!"

Anchises lunged at Paris again. Paris managed to parry his blow this time. He moved his feet faster this time and continued to keep him from touching him. A quick flick of Anchises's wrist changed that. Paris's stick flew from his grip, nearly striking Nomikos in the head. "You're dead!" Anchises said coldly. Paris was getting really sick of those words.

"Paris!" Anchises snapped," Stop being weak!"

"I'm not weak!" Paris retorted angrily.

"Then, prove it!" Anchises cried before coming at him again. Paris blocked it. He took a few steps back. "You're not strong enough!" Anchises said," You're going to die!"

"No." Paris lunged again. This time he almost struck Anchises in the leg. Anchises blocked his blow, but with a little more difficult. "Is that the best you can muster? Come on princeling!" he yelled.

"Stop it!" Paris hollered he struck Anchises hard in the chest in fury. The man flung back to the ground. Paris stood there aghast.

"Papa!" Aeneas cried. He and Paris rushed over to Anchises's side. He could hear Anchises laughing. "My boy!" he cried in a winded voice," We might just make you into a warrior yet!"

Helen was in the depths of the forest again, tracking a deer. It was the only place she could get any peace. Briseis news had blown apart the fragile peace between the women. Andromache was beside herself with grief. She barely spoke anymore. Helen on the other hand spoke enough for the both of them. She could barely contain her fury. She couldn't even put it into words.

Helen looked down at the soft ground searching for footprints. Food was scarce and with Briseis eating for two they would soon need it. Helen squeezed her eyes shut thinking of Briseis's child. It infuriated her! She would never be a mother. Paris was far gone behind her reach. She had always wanted children. Briseis had been destined to remain a virgin until fate had stepped in. As immature as it sounded, Helen couldn't help but think," It isn't fair!"

A strange footprint caught her attention. She knelt down besides it. It wasn't a footprint. It wasn't a print made by any animal! It was the thin outline of a sandal print! Men had been through here. Her heart leapt excitedly. Survivors?! She hurried ahead through the brush.

Paris watched Orestes go to meet his lady. She was a lovely thing, but nothing compared to his Helen. Paris watched the lady laugh as Orestes whispered something in her ear. The gesture reminded him of Helen. The simple intimacy of sharing a secret. He visited her every night in his dreams only to wake up and find that she wasn't sharing the pallet with him.

"There he goes!" Paris jumped as Electra stepped out of the hallway," Another girl every night." A hint of frustration mingled in her voice. Her blue gray eyes followed the girl as they left for the veranda. For a second Paris suspected that she was a little bit jealous. "Does he ever tire of it?"

"Do you?" Paris asked mildly.

"It does get old," Electra said with a sigh," I wish he would stick with one for more than two nights in a row. It's hard to keep track of them."

"Jealous?" Paris asked.

"Who? Me?" Electra cried defensively," No, of course not!"

"I don't see what you could possibly admire about that man," Paris said with a sigh.

"He has a royal treasury a mile high," Electra said with a sigh," And most ladies rather like being able to call them themselves the Lady of Mycenae."

"Do they?" Paris said.

"Of course it's my title," Electra said playfully.

"What?!" Paris cried spinning around suddenly," Are you his... wife?"

"Oh no!" Electra cried suddenly," Of course not! You don't understand. I'm his sister."