Hector couldn't breathe. His mind reeled as he forced himself to digest what the guard had told him. Paris - sweet, young, beautiful, untrained Paris - was at the mercy of a brute whose mood swings and violent outbursts were as legendary as his prowess. Black dots were starting to appear before his eyes...
"Prince Hector!" The startled guard grabbed him as his knees buckled. Hector shook his head and sucked in some air, trying to clear his head and breathe properly. Swooning in the streets wouldn't help Paris! Information, he needed information and more than this guard could give him.
He straightened his shoulders. "Where is my father?" he demanded.
"He is at his private altar," the guard informed him. "The king has been praying to Apollo since receiving word of the abduction."
Hector took off at a run, racing through the halls of the palace. Occasionally, a person he passed tried to get his attention, but he was oblivious to everything but getting to his father. Ignoring the cries of protest from the guards outside Priam's private alter, he threw the doors open.
King Priam looked startled. "Hector!" he exclaimed.
"I heard about Paris," Hector said hurriedly. "How did this happen? What's being done to get him back?"
"Silence!" Priam snapped. He looked from his son to the guards in the doorway. "Leave us." After the doors slammed shut, Priam turned back to his son. "Hector," he lectured, "you are thirty years old, not a child. I expect you to behave with a little more decorum and dignity."
Hector took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I am sorry, Father," he apologized. "It's just that I was so surprised by the news of what happened to Paris. Is there any more information? Do you know for sure that he is with Achilles?"
"Your brother," said Priam grimly, "was taken two nights ago by Achilles, of that we are certain. I don't know what condition he's in, but that brute slaughtered two of Paris' guards in order to escape. We wouldn't even know for sure the identity of his abductor if it weren't for that urchin servant."
"Julian?" interrupted Hector, naming the servant boy who waited on Paris.
Priam glared at him. "Don't interrupt," he scolded. "Yes, I believe that's the worthless boy's name. He was found cowering behind the dressing curtain in your brother's room. All he's said so far has been, 'Lord Achilles took the prince.' No bribe or threat has been able to make him say anything else."
"Where is Julian now?"
"That's none of your concern."
"None of my concern?!" blurted out Hector.
"I will take care of this," proclaimed Priam. "Paris is mine to protect."
"Well, you haven't been doing a very good job of it lately, now have you?" shrieked Hector, who was becoming hysterical. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he'd regret this, but he couldn't stop the words from flying out of his mouth. "You invited Achilles here! Did you not see his attentions towards Paris? Did you even bother to watch him at all? How could you let that Grecian monster waltz out of the palace, through the city gates, down to the beach, and on to a boat with Paris in tow?!"
Priam backhanded his son. Hector tasted blood in his mouth. "How dare you?" Priam hissed. "I've protected Paris all of his life. I protected him from your sin, did I not?"
Hector bowed his head in shame as he remembered his past selfish intentions toward the boy.
"Andromache is in the garden with Astyanax," Priam continued coldly. "Go there. Attend to Astyanax, YOUR son, and I will attend to Paris, MY son. Get out of my sight."
Hector turned without a word and left the room.
##########################
Andromache rushed to embrace Hector when he came to the gardens. "My dear husband," she sighed.
He embraced her and kissed the baby in her arms on the forehead. "How do you two fare?" he asked.
"Astyanax and I are fine," she assured him. "Paris is the one we should be worrying about. Have you spoken with your father?"
"Yes."
"And?"
Hector sighed. "I am to stay out of it."
Andromache shot him an exasperated frown. "I don't pretend to understand why your father wants to keep you to separated," she declared, " but Paris adores you. And I know you love him. He needs you now; do you really think it's going to be your father who rescues him?"
Hector acknowledged the truth of her words and used them to steel his resolve to disobey the king. "How can I help him without Father knowing?" he asked.
"Many of the guards and soldiers are more loyal to you than they are to the king. Including," she added slyly, "those guards who are currently posted outside of Julian's quarters."
Hector smiled at her. "Thank you," he said.
The smile she returned was grim. "Hurry."
#######################
Odysseus was waiting just outside the doors that led to the servants' quarters. Hector scowled at him, wondering why he and his men weren't imprisoned. Surely he had some knowledge about Achilles plans! "What do you want, Greek?" hissed Hector.
"You are Prince Hector, are you not?" inquired Odysseus.
"I am," he replied shortly. "What do you want?"
Odysseus sighed inwardly. He knew this wouldn't be easy. "I'm sorry for what happened with your brother," he said diplomatically.
"Are you now?" sniped Hector sarcastically. He was in no mood to play political games! "Well, your apologies aren't doing much to save Paris, are they?"
The king of Ithaca was insistent. "I need to talk to he," he stated. "It concerns the well being of Prince Paris."
Hector bristled, but couldn't turn down any source of information, even if it was from a potential conspirator. "Very well," he conceded. "I'll meet you in the gardens. My wife and son are there now. Can I trust you not to carry them off while I question a servant?"
Odysseus wisely chose not to respond to the barely veiled accusation. "I will be there," he promised, and left.
Hector entered the hallway where all of the palace's servants lived and entered Julian's quarters without having to utter a word to the guards posted there. "Don't open this door to anyone," he instructed them as he closed the door behind him.
The ten-year-old servant boy cowered in a corner, petrified. "Please don't hurt me," he begged.
Hector sat on the floor, mindful to keep enough distance between himself and Julian. He needed the boy to speak freely, not be terrified that he'd be beaten for saying the wrong thing. "I won't hurt you," he promised. "I just need you to tell me everything that you saw the night Achilles kidnapped Paris. Please be honest; you will not be punished for it."
Julian lifted his face to look at the prince. Hector could see the tear stains on his cheeks. "I am sorry," he whimpered. "I didn't mean to see. I shouldn't have spied!"
Hector was bewildered. He assumed that Julian's silence had been due to fear of seeing such violence and not being able to help, not guilt over what he saw happen. "You didn't mean to see what?" he asked. "What shouldn't you have seen?"
To be continued...
"Prince Hector!" The startled guard grabbed him as his knees buckled. Hector shook his head and sucked in some air, trying to clear his head and breathe properly. Swooning in the streets wouldn't help Paris! Information, he needed information and more than this guard could give him.
He straightened his shoulders. "Where is my father?" he demanded.
"He is at his private altar," the guard informed him. "The king has been praying to Apollo since receiving word of the abduction."
Hector took off at a run, racing through the halls of the palace. Occasionally, a person he passed tried to get his attention, but he was oblivious to everything but getting to his father. Ignoring the cries of protest from the guards outside Priam's private alter, he threw the doors open.
King Priam looked startled. "Hector!" he exclaimed.
"I heard about Paris," Hector said hurriedly. "How did this happen? What's being done to get him back?"
"Silence!" Priam snapped. He looked from his son to the guards in the doorway. "Leave us." After the doors slammed shut, Priam turned back to his son. "Hector," he lectured, "you are thirty years old, not a child. I expect you to behave with a little more decorum and dignity."
Hector took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I am sorry, Father," he apologized. "It's just that I was so surprised by the news of what happened to Paris. Is there any more information? Do you know for sure that he is with Achilles?"
"Your brother," said Priam grimly, "was taken two nights ago by Achilles, of that we are certain. I don't know what condition he's in, but that brute slaughtered two of Paris' guards in order to escape. We wouldn't even know for sure the identity of his abductor if it weren't for that urchin servant."
"Julian?" interrupted Hector, naming the servant boy who waited on Paris.
Priam glared at him. "Don't interrupt," he scolded. "Yes, I believe that's the worthless boy's name. He was found cowering behind the dressing curtain in your brother's room. All he's said so far has been, 'Lord Achilles took the prince.' No bribe or threat has been able to make him say anything else."
"Where is Julian now?"
"That's none of your concern."
"None of my concern?!" blurted out Hector.
"I will take care of this," proclaimed Priam. "Paris is mine to protect."
"Well, you haven't been doing a very good job of it lately, now have you?" shrieked Hector, who was becoming hysterical. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he'd regret this, but he couldn't stop the words from flying out of his mouth. "You invited Achilles here! Did you not see his attentions towards Paris? Did you even bother to watch him at all? How could you let that Grecian monster waltz out of the palace, through the city gates, down to the beach, and on to a boat with Paris in tow?!"
Priam backhanded his son. Hector tasted blood in his mouth. "How dare you?" Priam hissed. "I've protected Paris all of his life. I protected him from your sin, did I not?"
Hector bowed his head in shame as he remembered his past selfish intentions toward the boy.
"Andromache is in the garden with Astyanax," Priam continued coldly. "Go there. Attend to Astyanax, YOUR son, and I will attend to Paris, MY son. Get out of my sight."
Hector turned without a word and left the room.
##########################
Andromache rushed to embrace Hector when he came to the gardens. "My dear husband," she sighed.
He embraced her and kissed the baby in her arms on the forehead. "How do you two fare?" he asked.
"Astyanax and I are fine," she assured him. "Paris is the one we should be worrying about. Have you spoken with your father?"
"Yes."
"And?"
Hector sighed. "I am to stay out of it."
Andromache shot him an exasperated frown. "I don't pretend to understand why your father wants to keep you to separated," she declared, " but Paris adores you. And I know you love him. He needs you now; do you really think it's going to be your father who rescues him?"
Hector acknowledged the truth of her words and used them to steel his resolve to disobey the king. "How can I help him without Father knowing?" he asked.
"Many of the guards and soldiers are more loyal to you than they are to the king. Including," she added slyly, "those guards who are currently posted outside of Julian's quarters."
Hector smiled at her. "Thank you," he said.
The smile she returned was grim. "Hurry."
#######################
Odysseus was waiting just outside the doors that led to the servants' quarters. Hector scowled at him, wondering why he and his men weren't imprisoned. Surely he had some knowledge about Achilles plans! "What do you want, Greek?" hissed Hector.
"You are Prince Hector, are you not?" inquired Odysseus.
"I am," he replied shortly. "What do you want?"
Odysseus sighed inwardly. He knew this wouldn't be easy. "I'm sorry for what happened with your brother," he said diplomatically.
"Are you now?" sniped Hector sarcastically. He was in no mood to play political games! "Well, your apologies aren't doing much to save Paris, are they?"
The king of Ithaca was insistent. "I need to talk to he," he stated. "It concerns the well being of Prince Paris."
Hector bristled, but couldn't turn down any source of information, even if it was from a potential conspirator. "Very well," he conceded. "I'll meet you in the gardens. My wife and son are there now. Can I trust you not to carry them off while I question a servant?"
Odysseus wisely chose not to respond to the barely veiled accusation. "I will be there," he promised, and left.
Hector entered the hallway where all of the palace's servants lived and entered Julian's quarters without having to utter a word to the guards posted there. "Don't open this door to anyone," he instructed them as he closed the door behind him.
The ten-year-old servant boy cowered in a corner, petrified. "Please don't hurt me," he begged.
Hector sat on the floor, mindful to keep enough distance between himself and Julian. He needed the boy to speak freely, not be terrified that he'd be beaten for saying the wrong thing. "I won't hurt you," he promised. "I just need you to tell me everything that you saw the night Achilles kidnapped Paris. Please be honest; you will not be punished for it."
Julian lifted his face to look at the prince. Hector could see the tear stains on his cheeks. "I am sorry," he whimpered. "I didn't mean to see. I shouldn't have spied!"
Hector was bewildered. He assumed that Julian's silence had been due to fear of seeing such violence and not being able to help, not guilt over what he saw happen. "You didn't mean to see what?" he asked. "What shouldn't you have seen?"
To be continued...