A/N: This story is based on the movie Troy with the exception of a few of my own characters. Reviews are most appreciated.
As We Leave These Shores.
Chapter 1
The harsh wind blew from the Aegean Sea on a cold winter morning and the pines sway in a haunting dance. In a small farmhouse by the Scamander River, a young girl was sleeping by the fireplace; her dark curly hair tangled with her long limbs. A cock crew and stirred her from her peaceful slumber.
"Max…" she murmured, her eyes still closed. The wolf dog beside her got up and yawned. A smile crept to her lips as she felt the dog's wet tongue lapping her face.
"Is it morning already?" she said, rubbing her eyes as she looked out the window. The sun was just peeking from the horizon; signaling the start of the day. The goats and sheep need to be fed and water drawn from the river. Wrapping her shoulders with a woolen shawl, she pushed open the door and stepped out into the chilly morning. Suddenly, she heard the moaning sound of the city bells echoing through the hills and turned towards the direction of her city, Troy.
"Lucia! Get your things," said her brother, Marcus as he came rushing out. "We need to seek refuge behind the walls of Troy."
She stared blankly at her older sibling. "What's happening?"
Marcus grabbed his armor and sword. "Our city is being attacked."
Who would want to attack us?
"Quick, get mother and anything you need. I'll be riding ahead," he said, mounting his horse. Marcus was part of the famed Apollonian Guard. It was his duty to protect his king and country and Troy needed him now. She watched as her brother rode off into the horizon.
Without much ado, she quickly gathered some food and clothing. "Mother, we need to hurry," she said with an urgent tone. As they left their home, Lucia turned around and stared longingly at the rolling green pastures and snow-capped mountains. Hopefully, we will return soon, she mused.
A dog's bark brought her back to reality and she called to him, "Max!"
The dog responded enthusiastically as he trailed after them.
People from all over the countryside poured into the fortified city. There was a lot of activity in the streets; horses and armed soldiers were everywhere. The street was covered with stalls; men and women bartered over goods and food and all sorts of things. Young children scampered around the town, chasing each other around. Lucia managed to find a place to stay – it was a barn shared with five other families. It wasn't comfortable but they had to make do until the siege was over.
After putting up a makeshift tent, she turned to her mother and said, "I'll bring back some water while you rest."
As she was carrying water back to her mother, she heard the clear sound of horns. All of the people in the street froze, their movements stiffened. Mothers moved to take their children away from the center of the road as Lucia jumped to the side of the road just in time. Max growled at the oncoming horsemen.
A dozen horses galloped past, their teeth ferociously bared as their riders rode out to meet the enemy; the clatter of hoofs against stone rose above the crowd's chatter. The riders looked fearsome, their bodies cloaked in leather armor and their helmets, almost completely covered their faces.
The lead rider then spoke, and his voice was harsh.
"Make way for His Royal Highness, Prince Hector!"
Lucia craned her neck slightly to get a glimpse of this prince that her brother so loved. The ranks of riders parted as another beast, larger and fiercer than all the others, moved forth. The rider was a large, powerful looking man, his armor glistening in the sun. He held a sword in one hand, and his very presence inspired fear and awe.
Beside him, she saw another rider, one much younger. She recognized him immediately. "Marcus!"
Marcus reigned in his horse and waved to her before he joined the others. There were rumors that the Greeks had landed on Trojan shores. Lucia had heard of these fearsome Achaean people but nothing could be certain until Marcus came back and confirmed them. As she passed the temple, she offered two pigeons as burnt sacrifice to the gods and said a silent prayer for her brother.
Dear gods, please bring him home safely to us…
Her father too was a brave soldier and he died for his country when she was only five years old. It was Marcus' dream to follow in their father's footsteps. It would have been Lucia's dream too if she were born a male but it did not stop her from learning the skills to fight from her brother. Lucia smiled reminiscing the days when she had chased her brother around the courtyard of their house with sticks. They were only six and ten respectively, acting out their favorite stories.
That was a long time ago, Lucia sighed wistfully.
Suddenly, the ground began to shake and the deafening sounds of men shouting and swords clashing filled her with dread. The impregnable walls of Troy would protect them but what of the men outside…
Lucia hurried back to her mother and waited for her brother's return. The day was getting dark and yet there was still no sign of Marcus. She was about to go out to look for him when she saw a tall soldier approaching her. From the insignia on his armor, she recognized the man to be from Marcus' regiment.
"Are you Lucia?" he asked gravely.
"Yes. That's me."
The man removed his bloodied helmet and introduced himself. "I am Captain Tyr. Your brother was a good soldier and it was my honor to fight alongside him in battle."
"Where is he?" she asked, hoping to see him walking down the street at any moment.
"Lucia, your brother is dead."
No, it can't be…
Her head was spinning with questions as the news twisted in her heart.
"He died a warrior's death."
Grief overwhelmed her as she let out an anguished cry and swayed. Then everything turned black.
"Lucia…Lucia…" a soothing voice called her.
Her eyes fluttered open and she saw her mother's face. "Mother, Marcus…he's…" Lucia began to cry.
Her mother hugged her. "Yes, I know. You were calling his name all night."
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The priest passed by each body in turn, administering hasty last rites, then
moved on to the next while a harassed junior priest lit the funeral pyre.
Dressed in white, Lucia stood tall as she gazed fixedly at her brother's body as it was consumed by the flames. Her mother and the other women were standing nearby, weeping silently.
Closing her eyes, she was invaded by horrific images -- a sharp sword impales a soldier through the stomach --another sword slices through leather -- and a severed head encased in metal spins lose from armored shoulders...
Inwardly, she trembled with rage at the carnage that had befallen their beautiful city – so many dead, so much pain. She looked to the heavens, hoping for a sign and the flutter of purple robes caught her eye. On the balcony above was a man with dark wavy hair and a short beard -- his regal bearing and the intensity of his expression gave him away. This must be Prince Hector, she thought.
He was watching the funeral; his handsome features overshadowed by a deep frown. She could tell he was visibly disturbed. Her brother had nothing but praise for this future king of Troy. Prince Hector loved his country and his people -- he would never let the Greeks harm them. He would avenge her brother's death and drive the enemy out. Lucia felt a surge of hope within her as she turned back to look at the prince, but he had already gone.
After the funeral, she saw the women singing and playing in the halls; oblivious of the danger just beyond the city. They were cooking over an open fire and kneading bread. What good is a woman when all she could do was cook, weave and make clothes, and bear children? she thought bitterly.
Then, she saw Trojan soldiers training in the courtyard with their swords and spears – some of them looked barely fifteen. It was cruel fate that most of them would not live to old age. She was observing their fighting skills and suddenly, she heard a man shouting at the top of his voice…
They will rape our women and pillage our city
Kill every man in the city
Young children will grow up, knowing no other life than that of the Greeks outside of our walls, killing their fathers
Widows will re-marry only to lose
more husbands, mothers will mourn the
death of all of their sons
While the others laughed and scoffed at his warnings, Lucia felt a chill down her spine. This mad man's cries echoed the frown on Prince Hector's face. Did he think that Troy would fall too?
It was almost dark when Lucia returned to her mother. As she neared the barn, she could see her mother talking to a woman and a man, similar to her age. She stiffened as she recognized them – Medea and her son, Pollux, their scheming neighbors. They had been eyeing their farm since her father died. It was Marcus who had protected them but now Marcus was gone.
"Ah, Lucia. You've grown," Medea said, forcing a smile.
She scowled back. "What do you want?"
"Lucia! Where are your manners?" her mother reprimanded her.
"Sorry…" she mumbled grudgingly and went inside without another word. Plopping herself unto the soft hay stack, she tried to block out the pain in her heart. She really missed Marcus and wished he were still alive.
She heard her mother's footsteps approaching and she sat up. "Mother, what do they want with us?"
"Lucia, our old neighbors visited us because they were concerned," her mother said.
"Ugh! They are the most conceited and selfish people I've ever met. Concern was never a trait in their family."
"Lucia! How could you talk about them like that?" Her mother sighed. "I am old, Lucia. What will happen to you when I die?"
She fell silent.
"Medea has made us a marriage offer. They will take you in as their daughter and care for you."
Lucia's head shot up in shock. "No! I won't marry Pollux."
"Then you will end up a slave…" Her mother was becoming exasperated by her obstinate behavior.
"If I marry Pollux, I WILL end up their slave," she muttered to herself.
"Please Lucia. I beg you. Think about it."
Lying alone in her bed, Lucia tried to make sense of their conversation. Marriage to Pollux was unthinkable -- the very thought of that sniveling rat touching her made her skin crawl. She began to feel strangled by the norms of the society that she grew up in. Unmarried women with no family like her would eventually become slaves. She stared at the armor that Marcus had worn on the day he died, lying on the ground next to her.
Slowly, her thoughts drifted to her beloved brother. His kind face always showed compassion and understanding. "What would you do, Marcus?" she whispered sadly and hugged his armor. "I need your wisdom."
She was back again on her farm, running among the wheat and barley. She turned around and saw a very young Marcus smiling at her. They were children again, playing with sticks in the field.
"Hey, Lucia…you're getting better at sticks
One day you'll be a fine soldier
And no man would want to marry you…"
"Marcus?" Lucia woke up in a daze. She had dreamed of him again -- it was as if he was talking to her from Hades. Suddenly, it became clear to her. Taking out her brother's sword, she sliced a chunk of her hair and watched it fall to the ground. Looking at the base of a bronze basin, she could not recognize her own reflection -- she looked younger with hair shorn like a boy. Yes, she would become a soldier, just like Marcus and her father. She would fight for Troy and avenge her brother's death.
In the dead of the night, Lucia finished putting on her brother's armor. She took the sword and placed it in the scabbard to her left. Lucia gently kissed her mother and whispered to Max, "Stay with mother." Her faithful companion obeyed.
Untying her brother's horse, she secretly rode towards her brother's regiment. She saw the lights of the camp ahead and began to have doubts. What if they knew she was a girl dressed in men's clothing?
"Who goes there?" a loud voice interrupted her thoughts. She looked up and saw two soldiers approaching her. It was too late to flee now.
Swallowing hard, she said in a low voice. "Take me to your captain."
They took her to a large tent and told her to wait. Soon she recognized the man who had told her about her brother's death – Captain Tyr. A surge of panic came over her as she took a hasty step back. If they found out she was a girl, they would punish her.
But the captain did not recognize her. "Who are you? And what are you doing wearing this armor?"
"I am Lucanus, cousin of Marcus who perished in battle," she replied haltingly.
"Hmm, Marcus did not mention he had a cousin by that name," Captain Tyr said, rubbing his stubbled chin. "Perhaps I may have forgotten. Have you been in a war before?"
"No… but I can fight like any man…err, soldier." Lucia was grateful that it was too dark to see her blush.
"Very well… We will ride at first light tomorrow and we'll see how you fare on the battlefield."
"Yes, sir."
"Show him a place to rest," he told the soldier beside her and re-entered his tent.
All around the camp, the men were huddled around fires, keeping warm. There was a general feeling of melancholy among the soldiers as they talked in hushed tones.
"Did you see what Achilles did to the Temple of Apollo?"
"He and the Myrmidons have no fear."
"Some say his mother is a goddess…and that he cannot be killed."
"What are our chances of victory when the Greeks have him?"
Lucia refused to hear anymore of this talk and walked away to the courtyard. No one, not even the mighty Achilles was going to stop her from avenging her brother.
TBC