APOLOGY AND IMPORTANT NOTE!!!!!! I just realized that all my formatting (mainly italics) was lost because I'd been uploading my documents wrong. I just fixed that, so I'd recommend doing a quick overview of the chapters, just in case you missed anything. I use italics heavily and since the thoughts were in italics, it might make a bit more sense now. Sorry about that!

To satisfy your curiosity, yes Achilles does end up sacking Thebe later on, both in real life (well, Homer at least) and in my story. However, I still haven't decided if I want that part to be in this story, or in the sequel. I'll decide sometime soon. According to Andromache's speech to Hector in the Iliad, Achilles sacked her city (Thebe), killed her brothers and father, and captured her mother. However, he allowed the king all the funeral rites and also allowed the queen (Andromache's mother) to be ransomed. However, then Andromache states that Artemis slew her with her arrows. Now, I am by no means an expert, but I believe in most of the cases of Artemis slaying someone with her arrows, it means they died of grief. If I remember correctly Odysseus's mother died that way, and his wife Penelope prayed for it when she was grieving. But this is just my amateur opinion, someone else could probably give you a definite response. But yes, that will all be in my story/stories, at some point.

Another note, I've been pretty good about updating every day since I first posted (that's not the note, actually). But I'll be gone over the weekend so I won't be able to write anything, so it might be a few days before my next update. (that's the note ;) My apologies, but what can you do. Now, for your enjoyment.

And in case you don't know, "This means speech," This means thoughts.

…

Andromache awoke with a start. She'd broken out in a sweat and felt flushed. Pushing her damp hair back from her forehead, she left her stifling bed and grabbed a robe to throw on over her nightgown. Quickly ascending the stairs to the deck, she sighed blissfully as the breeze quickly cooled her off. Opting to leave the trapdoor open- hoping that it would allow some air into the room below deck- she walked over to the side of the ship, gazing at the moon in the distance. Directing her gaze even more upwards, she tried to pick out the constellations she knew. There was Orion, his bow arched and ready to fire. The scorpion that had been sent by Apollo to kill him was just a few stars over. Andromache shivered, still remember how that story had intrigued her when she was a girl.

The goddess Artemis had found a close friend in Orion, and the two loved to hunt together. Her brother, Apollo, grew jealous and tried to think of ways to get rid of his sister's new friend. He sent the scorpion, but Orion defeated it. Realizing Orion was too powerful to be overcome, Apollo tried another way. Coming upon his sister alone one afternoon, he made a bet with her that she couldn't hit a rock that was far out in the ocean. Always eager to show off her skill with the bow, Artemis had accepted, and fired a silver arrow into the center. But it wasn't a rock. Orion's father was Poseidon, god of the ocean, and because of this he'd had the ability to walk on water. It was Orion's head that she hit, and because of her love for him she placed him a place of honor- the stars.

Andromache remembered how Euklides had scared her when he told her of the battle between Orion and the scorpion. She'd shivered with fear, afraid that scorpions would come to attack her. Her mother had forbidden Euklides to tell her any more stories, but he didn't listen. All the stories of the gods she'd heard from him, he'd never scrupled to show any sensitivity because of her age, either. All the stories she'd ever heard, all of them had come from him.

"Andromache," said a soft voice. Andromache jumped and whirled around. It was Hector. She stiffened. "You should not be out here alone," he continued, gesturing to the men sleeping on rugs towards the back of the boat. "It is unseemly."

Angry at letting herself commit a breech of modesty, she refused to accept his admonition. "I would not be up here if it weren't so stuffy below deck," she whispered back harshly.

Hector wasn't about to pick another fight. Reminding himself that he was supposed to be trying to win her hart, he let it go. "It is no matter, I am here now so all is well."

"Prince Hector, if you imagine that I need your chaperonage to avoid committing a sin with one of your sailors you are sadly mistaken," Andromache glared at him in the darkness, just being able to make out his silhouette in the moonlight. "Do not dare doubt my chastity, my lord."

"You doubt my word," Hector retorted back softly, cautiously glancing back at the sleeping sailors. "I don't see why my questioning your chastity should upset you." He had trapped her.

Andromache was no fool, she could see when she'd lost. She smiled and bowed her head, saying only, "A truce then, my lord. I shall not doubt your word and you shall not doubt my chastity."

Hector nodded. "A fair bargain. However, though it is not your chastity I question, I must request that you have your handmaiden accompany you if you come up here at night again."

"She shall," Andromache conceded. "I was not thinking of my actions, forgive me." Though extremely stubborn, Andromache had been brought up in the strictest of manners and she knew how a lady should act. A woman alone with a group of sleeping men went against all rules of decorum.

"No harm done," Hector glanced at her, she was gazing out at the water. "Andromache, what are you afraid of?"

She stared at him, shocked at the bluntness of his question. But he stared back, not backing down. "I fear many things, my lord," she dodged.

"What are some of them?" he prodded. He knew it was rude, but he could not go through marrying her when they were practically strangers to each other.

"Forgive me, but I'm not in the habit of revealing my fears to strangers," she replied bluntly, not caring about being rude.

"And I am one of those strangers?"

She gave him an odd look. "My lord, we barely know each other. Of course you are."

"And how long do you think we will remain strangers?" he continued. She realized where he was going but couldn't think of a way to avoid his point.

She shrugged, "It depends."

"On what?" He looked into her eyes. You know where I'm going with this.

May the gods curse you, she thought, annoyed. "On… how quickly we get to know each other," she finished lamely. May the gods doubly curse you.

"Would you like to marry a stranger?"

She was silent, knowing very well he'd beaten her again. By the gods, I believe this is the third time he's gotten the better of me. "I believe I shall return to bed, my lord," she said haughtily, trying to retain a shred of dignity.

"A wise move," Hector acknowledged. "You know when to retreat."

"It's not a retreat," she snapped back, then mentally slapped herself.

"Then…?" he asked, a small smile on his face.

Curse you a thousand times over, she thought furiously. "I fear…" She tried to think. "I fear slavery," she finished, reminded of her conversation not long ago with Maira. "But what is freedom? A free person can make their own choices, most often foolish choices that cause unhappiness. They can call themselves free and yet they are often poorer and unhappier than many slaves I know. Andromache, you must look at what you do have. I am a slave, I freely admit it, but my life is a happy one. I could be scrubbing the floors and sharing the bed of a cruel master, one who uses me for his own pleasure. Instead I am waiting upon the princess of Thebe, sharing thoughts and dreams with her and following her wherever she goes. Freedom is not everything." "I fear the loss of my freedom; I would rather die than be a slave," Andromache finished.

Hector locked eyes with her, as though he was trying to figure out where she was coming from. She held his gaze for a few seconds then looked down, suddenly shy.

"I see," Hector said slowly. "And-"

"Forgive me, my lord. But I am suddenly tired, I shall return to bed," she interrupted, very uncomfortable. Without waiting for a reply she hurried off, quickly climbing down the ladder and shutting the trapdoor behind her. She lay in bed, hearing him move about for a little while longer, then silence as he returned to his room in another part of the ship.

Andromache had lied, for she wasn't tired at all. She lay awake for hours thinking of what she'd said to him and what lay in store for her. In just the first day of their voyage, she'd gotten many glimpses of her fiancé's personality. He wouldn't be a violent husband or harm her in any way- of that she was sure- but he knew what he wanted and he knew how to get it. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she realized that the latter was much worse. He's slowly conquering me, she thought, horrified. And I'm powerless to stop it.