Cassandra quietly rose and pulled her robe more fully about her. Seeking her sandals for the ground chilled her feet, she wondered when she had removed them, wondered if Heracles had found the answer he sought. As she moved the tent flap aside, she breathed deep and sighed, feeling peaceful for the first time in a long time. The early morning light had yet to pierce the dark night. As she didn't want to cause further trouble for Heracles, she decided that she would seek Achilles out as soon as she made sure that Helen was all right.
Making sure the tent flap was secured; she snuck out and quietly made her way back to Menelaus' tent, peering into the gloomy room. A steady snoring sound greeted her ears and she entered on silent feet when she saw no one there. Walking to the back, she looked in and saw Helen wrapped up in his arms, held tightly. With her head tucked under his chin, she had an arm thrown across his chest as if to keep him there.
Or stake her claim.
It was hard to tell which of the two possibilities it could be.
As always with Helen, one could never be sure what her true motivations were. Smart Cassandra now knew she was and she could be highly dedicated when she set her mind to it. The woman was also kind, with a vast well of compassion running within her soul. A surprising amount if the priestess was being honest, though she did lack pity. Nevertheless, Helen also remained changeable and selfish - Helen would be the first to admit to that truth without that sense of self-consciousness others would if so pressed.
Helen was self-aware in a way that Cassandra envied.
For Cassandra, that made Helen a difficult person to hate and difficult to remain aloof from for the woman pushed past walls and doors as if they did not exist.
Feeling intrusive – not to mention more than a little embarrassed at the intimacy of the scene, she quickly backed out and made her way around sentries towards the beach. A cold breeze swept around her and she shivered, pulling into her cloak. Every step drew her one step closer to her unknown fate. Heavy hearted, she could smell the familiar scents of the land dissolve and blend into the salt of the sea.
This was the true scent of her homeland, that which she had been brought up knowing was a part of her soul. Homesickness filled her for the land which she loved and would soon be leaving. Turning around, she looked back at the city – at her Troy – and couldn't stop the tear that slid free. This was harder than she thought it would be for her soul cried against leaving. As a test of faith, she knew that she was right in doing so.
But she was still leaving, mayhap to never return.
And so, she turned around, taking everything in. The beach, the raceway, the abandoned temples, the high walls whose color had faded, the sight of the Temple she'd called home for so long, and the palace she was born in...all these things she committed to memory. Knowing it would never really be enough, she still tried to take it all in. This was Troy with its splendor and beauty, along with its flaws that she so loved.
It was a moment to hold close before letting go.
Yet a motion off to the side had her freezing in place, ending her contemplation. Holding the hood that much tighter, she glanced over to see who had broken her peace. This was the final moment, the time in which to change her mind had passed for she would be seen. A new life awaited her. Even with a heart thrumming in her chest so hard, she could barely draw in her breath, fear flowing in her veins, she knew it for what it was.
Time to bid everything except her faith good-bye. Fear's grip did not lessen as she recognized the man who emerged. Its hold tightened upon her. But she quickly gathered her courage and walked over to him. For good or ill, this was the man she was tying her life to. It was to him she was turning to and putting her trust in, so she had best make sure that they were on equal ground.
It was time to grow up and accept accountability for her choices.
To make sure that this life was how she envisioned it.
"Lord Achilles," she greeted him and almost smiled in amusement when he jumped in surprise. "So, the great warrior can be startled. May be you have some human in you after all."
"Priestess Cassandra," he greeted her with a calm he did not feel. And yet, it felt right that it be the two of them, so he held out a hand in greeting. His eyes studied her intently, wondering at her temerity in coming to him without protection. Did she really have such confidence in her god that she felt safe walking around, out in broad daylight, in the enemy camp with only a hood for protection?
The woman had more gumption than he'd given her credit for. A smile quirked his lips as he realized something – this could work out better than he thought. After all, he'd never been found of hand holding and guiding others through what they needed to do. When he gave orders, he expected to be obeyed without question, not asked how to do something. "I have never denied it. Walk with me?"
Tilting her head for a moment in thought, she accepted his hand. It was easier to cross that bridge than she had thought it would be. For a few minutes, they moved along the shore, taking in the crisp air and the slow lightening of the sky. Her turmoil was momentarily forgotten as she realized that it was an auspicious way to begin a new life.
And she half-wondered what he thought of it. If he recognized the solemnity of the moment or if it was just another sunrise to him. Some part of her hoped that he did realize, it would make their partnership smoother. "Lord Apollo told me that he spoke with you last night. That you would be speaking with Heracles in the morning," she hesitated and then pushed ahead.
Again, she had to remind herself that it was her future and about time she took hold of it with both hands.
Perhaps that was the consequence of growing closer to Helen, though she knew that some would think she already had such courage. It took strength to go against her parents wishes and remain a priestess when she'd lost favor. Some of the other woman's determination to rule her own path had seeped into her. As much as she hated to turn her back upon her people, there was no life for her among them anymore.
In truth, she wondered if there ever had been. "There is no need for I will go with you wherever it is you wish to travel."
Stopping, he turned her to face him and pushed back the hood of her robe, grateful that his men had indulged a bit too much the night before. As they were trading stories, he had not held his men back as he had when there was fighting. Even though he was not actively participating, he'd long since resigned himself to allowing his men the right to fight or not if they so choose to do so.
It was a delicate balance that he had trouble walking and for the moment at least, he was grateful that he had an out from this war. Yet it was hinged by the fact that he had to figure out just what he was supposed to do now. There were matters that needed tending to dealing with Cassandra before he told them of her and that they would be leaving, allowing them the choice of whether to stay or to go. It would only be fair for he was turning a corner and could no longer order men to bend their wills to his – not that he'd done so in a while.
Studying her expression, he read her sincerity as well as her fear.
Fear he knew was directed at him and not this choice she made.
Of all the things one could say of her, Cassandra's faith in Apollo's plan for her was absolute. She never feared when she knew the god was involved. And it seemed that her faith was well placed for she should never have been able to come to him without that protection. To him, such faith had always been something to be mocked. While he revered the gods, he'd never had such faith in them. It was awe inspiring, if strange.
"I thank you for your trust, Priestess. And I give you my promise that while I draw breath into my body I will do my best to protect you. That I shall try to prevent any from harming you. This decision and new life is entirely in your hands," he said, wishing to reassure her more than anything. With a gentle touch, he held her chin so that they were staring into each other's eyes. "I will not require nor ask anything of you that you do not wish to give."
"And that will satisfy you?" she challenged him. While Apollo had said that Achilles had promised him this, she had not fully believed it. She still wasn't sure she believed it. It seemed too easy, to convenient that she had found such safety and respect in one she thought had none.
"I cannot say that I will be satisfied, Priestess. As much as I would like to say otherwise, I am not that noble. But this is not about me and what I want. What I think should be mine any longer," he pointed out. "This is about you and doing what you want to do now. What will make you the happiest, no matter what that is, that is a decision only you can make. I made Lord Apollo a promise – I will not cheat him when he has placed his trust in me."
She visibly winced at his words. Even knowing instinctively that he wasn't obliquely referring to her promise, it still felt like a condemnation to her. "And if I offer myself to you?" Without conscious thought, her body swayed towards him, seeking something from him that she did not understand.
Drawing in a breath, he shook his head in refusal. Such a simple move and yet…yet it was one of the hardest movements he'd ever made. Self-denial was new to him and he wasn't quite sure he liked it. "I would refuse for I don't want to be rewarded because you think you have to. If such a relationship develops between us, I want it to be something that we both want. I don't want it for any other reason."
Her brows pinched together. "That is hardly the answer I was expecting of you."
"Cassandra? What are you doing out here?"
They both turned and saw Hector with Aeneas. Both men were unarmed.
"I could ask you the same thing," she commented almost drawing back into Achilles' sheltering presence. Almost but not quite, for she recognized that she had to stand on her own. Even if he was willing to help her carry her burdens, this was her life. If her choice was to be honored, it was because she stood on her own feet and made them listen to her. Believe that she had made this decision without coercion and that she had no regrets.
Hector took a few steps forward before stopping, "Achilles sent me a message last night."
Looking at him, she saw him nod. "Why?"
"I trust Lord Apollo to help us – but I also understand that I have to do my part. And that isn't just ensuring your safe removal from Troy, Priestess," he said.
"You and Helen both have the oddest ideas about the gods," she commented, shaking her head.
Ignoring her words for the moment, for he felt that they would have time to get to know one another and speak more of such things, he concentrated on the matter before him. It was something he both dreaded and looked forward too. "But I thought I asked you to come alone," he commented, turning to Hector. "I have come before you unarmed."
Hector acknowledged his words with a tight smile, staring at Cassandra. The betrayal he felt was clear in his eyes for while he'd thought his wife's words may be true, that he might see Helen here, he'd thought his sister had more devotion to their people to leave them so easily. "So have I," he pointed out.
"I didn't bring a warrior back-up," he retorted.
"If you think that I was just going to allow Hector to meet you, alone and in your camp, you are madder than I have seen you be. Andromache would have my head for that. Then I believe that she would come after you," Aeneas sharply said.
Achilles heaved a great sigh, acknowledging the truth of his words. "Fine. I well know of your wife's reputation. She is not the kind of woman I would willingly anger for she is quite fierce. Hector, I plan to leave today. No later than this evening. Priestess Cassandra has agreed to go with me. What I need is your word that you will not follow after us to return her to Troy."
Glancing down at her, he noticed her downcast eyes. "And your word that should you ever need help, you will summon me."
Her eyes flew to his, startled. Surprised. But the gratitude in them warmed him to the core. May be there was something to this self-denial thing after all, some reward to denying what one wanted in favor of another's needs and wants. Perhaps not, he cynically added, noting the fierce look on Hector's face - and the equally harsh one on Aeneas'.
"Why?" Aeneas suspiciously asked because it seemed that Hector would not.
Or could not.
After a long moment of silence, he returned his attention to the two men. His answer was simple for there was no need to be. Plain. But it spoke volumes of the man he was becoming – or perhaps had always been. A man that had never before had a chance to develop because of expectations. His own and the world's. "You are important to Priestess Cassandra."
This stunned Hector out of his shock. "What of Polyxena? Were your deeply expressed feelings for her a lie? When Cassandra no longer interests you, will you dump her?"
"What of Polyxena?" Achilles repeated softly. Thinking of the young woman, with her dark hair and brown eyes…her perfect figure…he clearly recalled feeling something for her. Though he could not say it was love – and had no intention of even trying to act as if it was – he also knew that she was not for him. "Your sister is, as all of your sisters are, beautiful. But, Hector, they are not here before me. I would never just leave Cassandra anywhere, to face danger alone – that's more your thing."
A hiss escaped him. His hand automatically went towards the weapon that was not by his side. "How dare you?" he demanded, hating the weak reply. For the first time, Hector would have preferred the cold feel of bronze in his hands.
"No," Achilles shook his head, seemingly unaffected by the motion and tone of voice. It was an illusion for he was on guard knowing Hector's character. The one thing he hadn't wanted was to become embroiled in a fight. But he knew that he had to make Hector see the truth. Cassandra's safety had been ignored by her family for far too long. He would not do the same and if that meant opening himself up to an attack then he would. "You left her alone to face the threats that would come to her because there are those who react negatively to her prophecies. You left her to fend for herself when you turned your back upon her because you couldn't bear to hear her words. Believe her or not, she is your sister.
"And it was your duty to protect her from harm. You may not have agreed with her decisions, may not have agreed with her words but you should not have turned your back upon her. By leaving her exposed to the malice of others, you failed in your duty.
"I will not be so negligent for I have been charged to protect her by the Lord Apollo." And here he paused. Turning, he stared into Cassandra's eyes. "Even if I had not been, I would still do my best to care for her because she has come to me in trust. It is a shame that she has to seek such protection from one who is not family."
Aeneas placed his hand on Hector's arm. As much as he hated to admit to it, he agreed with Achilles - at least, in this particular situation. There were things he'd heard from Helen when she'd confided in him, had seen with his own eyes. Cassandra had been severely punished by some for her words. Upon her back, whip marks remained from a severe beating she'd received when she'd informed a father that his son would not make it through the first battle.
A beating he'd never have known happened had he not come across her unconscious form, lying in a puddle of blood. To this day, he did not understand what had drawn him to Apollo's Temple for he usually went to his mother's Temple, only that he was grateful he had gone. There were so many other things that he couldn't tell Hector for fear of what the other man would do. What his reaction might be to finding out the truth about what happened to Cassandra.
Of all the sons of Priam, Hector had the greatest capacity for honorable behavior. He also had the strangest sense of what was right and wrong. His judgments were sometimes quickly made but he never went back when he thought that his position was just. It made him a hard man to work with and to be around for if you fell out of his favor, it was something that was difficult to regain.
"He's right," his words were soft.
Then his eyes hardened and he stared at the warrior. Achilles met his look calmly. Again untroubled by the accusation and the harshness that he knew that the other warrior had to see burning in his eyes. It was the kind of boldness he expected from one such as Achilles. "So, you are switching sides? How do we know that you won't switch back?"
"You don't," he replied calmly. "Any more than I have your guarantee that once we depart, you will not pursue us once peace is established here."
"And you ask no blood price? No slaves?" Hector pressed. A part of him wondered at this calm belief that peace would come. Peace that would not cost them their lives, contrary to what everyone thought. What knowledge did Achilles have that they lacked?
"I have need of none," he replied. A hand gently touched his, then became a grip that hardened painfully. Shocked by the action, he looked down at Cassandra. She wasn't looking at him though. Her eyes were far away, pale and rather sickly. Almost without thought, his arm went around her. He pushed past the Trojans and went to the rock Iolaus had sat on. With gentle pressure, he forced her to sit down. Kneeling beside her, he kept his arm around her in support.
A blood curdling scream escaped her lips, chilling him to the core.
"Cassandra, listen to me. You are safe to speak your words. Tell me what it is that you see." His orders were spoken in gentle tones. With this quiet voice, he hid his unease and fear.
He'd never heard such a sound in all his life, not even from the dying and wounded on the field of battle. To hear such a sound, coming from her…he wondered how she could bear it for he knew it must happen to her often.
"It's the Lord Ares…he's…there's anger. Fierce...it burns...like acid. Like a poison...filling the body...strangling the senses. May be it is for it burns so bad…" her words trailed off. The palms of her hands pressed against her eyelids, trying to force the sight back into her mind.
Trying to force it to go away, she scratched at the skin. Breaking it.
His hands pulled them away, not liking the sight of the blood on her face before pulling her into a loose armed embrace, trapping her hands between them. If she needed to hurt something to deal with the pain, it was better that it be him than herself. While he could hear Hector, hear Aeneas in the background, they didn't matter to him. All that mattered was the woman before him.
Her pain must be eased before anything else.
If they didn't like how he went about it, tough. She needed to be grounded and this was the only way he knew of to reassure her that the world outside her mind still existed. "It's all right, lady. I've got you safe. Can you see who is being poisoned? Is it you?"
Shaking.
She couldn't stop the restless shaking.
Or feeling the flames rise up, surrounding her, blinding her eyes, and choking her senses.
The heat suffocated her and she started to cough, leaning further into his arms. Struggling to breath against the rising smoke, the panic that clung to her. She couldn't see anything but flames and dark, billowing clouds around her. The heat made her dizzy.
"Not me," she mumbled at last into his neck.
"For right now, just breath deeply. Draw in air slowly and let it out again," he ordered. His hands rubbed a soothing pattern into her skin, feeling her relax against him even more. Idly he wondered, how did the woman manage to keep her skin so soft under these extreme conditions?
It took more strength and presence of mind to swallow back the desire rising within than he'd thought he had. But he was not totally ignorant of the truth. There were two men behind him who would be more than willing to kill him should he take advantage of the situation before him.
And he had promised her that he would do no such thing to her.
Cassandra could feel arms around her.
Could hear the steady voice speaking to her – but it didn't fully penetrate the fog of terror that filled her mind. It did not seem real yet. This feeling...this feeling of a supportive person beside her, keeping her safe. Though the heart beat steadily under her hand, screams of blood lust and revenge echoed in her mind, drowning the warmth.
It was all she could do to remain focused. To answer the questions and follow the orders given in such a calm, authoritative voice.
"Rest easy," the voice said. "I've got you safe. And while I cannot promise that no harm will come to you again, I can vow to be there for you every time."
It seemed to be the right words for she finally stopped shaking.
"The mighty Achilles has a heart that is not fully tainted by the lust for blood and battle. How very disappointing to find that the greatest warrior is such a weakling," a woman's voice taunted.
Glancing up, he saw a woman in indeterminate age, casually sharpening a sword above them. Her blue eyes were slanted – rather small – but he could tell from her posture and attitude that no detail would escape her. Along the right side of her face, a scar ran from ear to just under her chin. That and she had some kind of inked design. Dark hair cut as short as possible sharpened her chin and high cheekbones, making her appear harsh.
Unyielding.
"Is it weak to show compassion? If so, I will gladly be weak for only a fool has no heart. And only cowards fear to show their emotions." It was an answer tightly spoken, covering his anger at being so labeled. The word curled unpleasantly within him. Hatred for the woman above them filled him. "A warrior is defined by the purity of his emotions."
She ignored him, stung by the truthful words he spoke. They were words she'd heard before, from others that she respected – even if she found the concept one that was unworthy of contemplation. "And you, the mighty Aeneas and the honorable Prince Hector, dealing with him. If this is how you conduct war, it is no wonder this feeble army is still camped around you. Do you even know what bronze swords are used for?"
Hector expelled a sharp breath. He should've known that she would have followed after him. His mother had asked her to watch over him, fearing that he would unwisely answer the letter. That he would not send another in his place. "Penthesileia. I should've known for only you would come here despite being asked not interfere. Enyo's pet project. The pretender Queen of the Amazon Nation."
"There is no nation as you conceive such a concept, not that I expect you to understand what I speak of. There is the woman who follows the sword and the man who is wise enough to let her. Not that understanding such a concept is within you for your mind is to small realize the value of such things."
Standing up, Achilles could see that she was a tall woman. Wiry strength, toughened by years in the saddle, stalked past him. He was surprised that she did not have the swagger of a horse rider. There was elegance and grace in the way she moved and spoke. A contradiction, he thought and wondered what Heracles would think of her.
"And do not speak her name so lightly. Lady Enyo is one to be respected for only the Queen Hera passes her in excellence and majesty."
"I'm surprised that you would dare to use both their names in a single sentence. The High Queen will not soon forgive that slight," Aeneas commented, unnerved by the woman. It wasn't that he didn't have experience with female warriors. Far from it. He'd learned from many. And only a great fool would deny that everyone of the goddesses were powerful fighters, though Athena surpassed them all.
There was just something about this toughened woman that unnerved him.
"So I dare to speak of that which others do not," she shrugged. "Your opinion means little to me." A sharp turn had her suddenly by Achilles' side. One of her hands touched Cassandra's head, noting with amused detachment the sudden stiffening of his body. "Be at ease, I mean her no harm. You, on the other hand, you are a different matter."
Achilles couldn't rise to meet her on an even playing field, not with the woman in his arms still needing his strength. But he couldn't ignore Penthesileia's words either. He wondered just what the priestess thought of this moment. Wondered if she was even cognizant enough to realize that her fate was being decided upon at that moment by someone none of them considered.
"What business is it of yours what happens to her?"
"Do you honestly expect me to believe that Lord Apollo gave his beloved Priestess to you? His enemy in this fight?"
His lips tightened, "I have said that he has done so."
"Exactly," she sneered. "You have said. And from what I understand, it is you who have prolonged this war because of a slight against you. Why should any of us give any credence to your claims? I have seen little in your past actions to believe that you are capable of such selflessness and honor."
"While you seem to have little respect for the gods, I would never use them so lightly. Especially one with the reputation of Lord Apollo."
"Oh, I think you'd dare much to get what you desire, Achilles," she smirked. "You may think you are fooling us with this mock reverence, but I think I know you better. I will not deny that you respect the gods. But I do not believe for one moment that you have any true fear of them.
"One cannot lie to another warrior," she flatly added. It was galling to think that she had something in common with this man but it was truth.
She was warrior enough to admit it.
"ENOUGH!" Cassandra's own voice snapped, cracking in the still air. She gently but firmly pushed him away and stood, facing the warrior woman. "My father called you here to be slaughtered before the blade of the Achaeans. I know this and know that you do not believe me.
"For that I am deeply sorry," she paused, "And admit that I bear the fault in that."
"Priestess Cassandra," Penthesileia started, unsure of her words. What did one say to a prophetess and seer who said such things with such resignation?
"Let me finish," she ordered, almost gratified to see the woman pale. "This is my fate that is being decided. Lord Apollo has graciously given me to Achilles' hand to be protected from slavery and worse at the hands of these very warriors. I have chosen - for myself - to go with him. It is not your right nor your place to interfere in what the gods have asked.
"Do not think that I am not ungrateful for your words, but I do not wish to remain when I know that the end for me is rape and death," she finished.
"You cannot know that," she scoffed. Yet there was some doubt in her voice, something that spoke of a lessening of the power of Apollo's curse upon Cassandra that allowed them to really hear her. Hear and understand what she was saying, that in time she would be believed by all who heard her. That it would no longer be the curse of the god that prevented them from believing her but man's own inability to accept the painful truth.
"I only know what I have seen - and a life cut short is what will be if I stay. My brother Hector give us what we need and let us depart. I will not remain and become chattel," Cassandra said, not hearing the tone. Not understanding herself that not only was her life's path altering but that the curse was lifting. "Only to die for a crime I did not commit."
She was shaking with emotion, everything was still too much. Still to there for her body to do anything else. There was a hope that her body was not betraying her weakness, though she had little belief in that. Those who stood around her were far to seasoned to miss anything. A movement behind her and she saw Achilles' aborted move, yet he stood ready to offer her a hand should she ask for it.
About her, she could still feel the sheltering warmth of his arms. The reassuring strength of his body, sharing her burdens. Helping her bear them...it was so tempting to just lean back against him once more. To let him fight this battle for her, to allow another to be her strength, she took in a deep, steadying breath because she recognized the truth. She had to face them standing on her own two feet.
If she did not, there would forever be doubt in their minds about this being her choice.
Hector stared at her, trying to see Cassandra.
Just Cassandra.
But it was difficult to focus solely on her with the protective shadow of Achilles. The man had a definite presence that seemed to envelop her into his sphere, making her a part of him without subtracting who she was. Without remembering how the man had gently shielded her from the pain of her vision. Somehow he had known what to do for her when no one else, save Helenus and Helen, ever did.
Beyond that image was the Amazon Queen.
The defensive posture of Penthesileia, ready to take out the man with or without Hector's approval, stood in stark contrast to all those in Troy. She may not have believed Cassandra either but she was willing to fight the warrior that no one else wanted to touch to protect his sister. The woman who had seemed to know what to say and do to get a more honest reaction out of the Achaean than they had. While he was not grateful for her presence, he was grateful for the result.
But Hector knew it came down to one thing - Cassandra and what she wanted.
"Sister, are you sure about this?"
A small smile quirked her lips, hearing what he was not capable of saying. "Is anyone ever sure about anything?" she cryptically asked. "Hector, I have always known what my path was to be. From what seems to be the moment of my birth, I've known that to serve Lord Apollo is my destiny. Now, he has called me to serve in another way. Yes, I am certain that this is what I want and need to do."
Closing his eyes, he released a heavy sigh. She was right. Of all the people he knew, Cassandra had always been focused, determined. Not once had she ever wavered in her conviction. If she had been born a man, there was no doubt that she would be one of the greatest strengths they had in their arsenal. "Then go - but do not come back, Achilles. I fear if you do, I will not be able to let my sister go again."
Achilles studied him. "Don't give me a reason to."
End, Part 26