A/N: I've taken the liberty in interpreting the war between the Trojans and Greeks but I kept most of the plot intact.

Chapter 2

"Hector?"

"I'm here, my love," he replied his wife, his arms braced against the frame of the window and shoulders tensed as he stood looking out toward the city.

"Can't sleep?"

"In two hours, it'll be daylight. I can't help worrying about Paris. Maybe it was a mistake to ask him to ride with me." He sighed as he bowed his head.

"It was Paris' choice. He has to accept the consequences of his own actions," said Andromache as she came to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

But he has no experience in war. Closing his eyes, he tried not to think of the future as the thought of his little brother slain in battle was unbearable.

"Go back to sleep, my love," he whispered to her, breathing in the scent of her hair.

"If you promise to come back to bed," she purred, placing a kiss on his shoulder.

Hector nodded and turned his attention to the streets below. In the pale moonlight he saw a young lad, wearing an armor which was too big for him, swishing his sword from side to side as he practiced his stances in the empty courtyard. He observed the boy for some time with slight bemusement -- the young lad reminded him of his younger days; eager and curious. As a child, Hector could not wait to grow up – he'd wanted to see the world and learn new things. He had learned how to ride a horse when he was just eight and had tamed his first horse at the age of fifteen. His thirst for life had brought him to many countries and many wars. He had few regrets until the day he decided to take his brother to Sparta.

He was so angry when he saw what Paris had done that he almost wanted to throttle him right where he stood…

"I love her and I won't ask you to fight my war," Paris said naively.

"You already have."

%%%%%

"The Greeks are forming their positions," a soldier shouted as the Trojan army scrambled to theirs.

On the grassy plain, the two enemies were drawn up silently facing each other along the beach. Lucia sat rigid on her horse, facing the enemy, her heart pounding so loud she thought it would fall out. Prince Hector rode along the ranks of the army and the soldiers bowed as he approached, looking at him with great respect and admiration. Next to him was a younger man, clad in shining armor, shield and a silver sword sheathed by his side. Although he had some similarity to Prince Hector, he did not have the same commanding presence.

It must be his younger brother, Paris, she thought – the prince who had stolen the Queen of Sparta.

From the Greek battle lines, she saw five men emerging on chariots to meet Prince Hector and Prince Paris in the middle of the battlefield.

The soldiers waited with bated breath as their leaders met and to everyone's surprise, Prince Paris drew out his sword and prepared to take on a larger Greek warrior. The younger prince was no match for the Greek – it was almost too painful to watch as the Greek battered the Trojan prince. Lucia held her breath when Prince Paris crawled up to his brother and hugged his knees, begging him to intervene.

"Get up!" she heard Captain Tyr swear under his breath. The troops were shocked and dismayed.

The Greek began to advance toward the princes but before he could raise his sword, Prince Hector had pierced him with his. The Greek aggressor was brought to his knees and the battle had begun. The Greek soldiers charge towards the Trojan army as the princes galloped back to the city.

"Hold the line!" Captain Tyr shouted, looking up at the archers that had lined the walls of Troy. When the Greeks were almost upon them, the archers released hundreds of arrows in the air. The rain of arrows felled the enemy and sent them into chaos.

Suddenly, a resounding cry came out of no where. "For Troy!"

"TROY!" the army responded.

Led by Prince Hector, Captain Tyr let out a blood-curdling, primeval war-cry and charged forward to meet the Greek wave head on.

"Today I avenge you, brother," she muttered. Gripping the reins tightly, Lucia urged her horse to a full gallop.

Swords were flying as they attacked the enemy. Lucia charged at a soldier, slicing his head off with her sword. In this melee it is impossible to know who was friend or foe, and the images became so blurred that Lucia was soon lost in a mist of dust and noise. Suddenly, a Greek soldier threw a lance in her path causing Lucia to fall hard, felling her horse, amongst the soldiers. She got up still stunned from the impact. Lucia was caught in the middle, buffeted from side to side by a sea of heaving, sweating, bleeding bodies... she looked about her in a daze, but as a soldier attacked her, she managed to parry each thrust before lashing out and cutting the soldier's legs from under him.

Another soldier charged at her, Lucia slid past the oncoming sword thrust. She knocked the soldier with her shield and stabbed him. Looking up, she noticed a familiar figure battling scores of soldiers – the purple garb and the royal insignia. Prince Hector! He seemed to be holding his own, slashing and cutting down his enemies with swift precision.

Something made her turn and to her horror she saw the Greek archers preparing to unleash a rain on arrows on the unsuspecting soldiers. No! Lucia surged forward, pushing the prince to the ground just as the arrows were released and she held up her shield for protection. Several arrows struck it as the men around them crumbled. Prince Hector turned back and she could see that the prince was impressed by her bravery and tenacity.

"Fall back! Fall back!" he commanded his men. "We're too close to the archers!"

"We have them on the run, my prince," one of his commanders said.

"We do not want to make the same mistake. You've seen what our arrows did to them…"

Lucia stood knee deep among the bodies of the fallen, Trojans and Greeks alike, unable to comprehend the massacre that had just taken place. The Trojans managed to drive the Greeks back to their ships but was it enough?

One of his men brought the prince's horse to him. "Your Highness."

Prince Hector turned to her unexpectedly and held out his hand. "Ride with me," he said. He scooped her up in his strong arms and slowly turned her around so that Lucia could see over his shoulder: the entire beach, littered with bodies and bits of bodies. The reek of fresh, warm gore assaulted her senses as she gripped his shoulder.

"Are you all right?" the prince asked, noticing her discomfort.

Lucia quickly recovered and muttered an affirmative as they rode back to Troy. It was exhilarating and scary at the same time. When they reached the palace, the people surged forward to welcome their hero and they were curious as to who was riding with the prince. Lucia felt slightly embarrassed by the attention and quickly dismounted when they stopped in front of the palace steps.

"What's your name lad?" Prince Hector asked, his dark eyes piercing her soul. Lucia was dumbstruck by the prince's question.

"Take off your helmet before His Royal Highness!" one of the guards commanded.

Hesitantly, she removed her helmet and looked down. "Lucanus, Your Highness."

The prince regarded her in silence. "You were very brave out there," he said. "Troy needs men like you. I look forward to seeing you again."

"It is my honor to serve you," Lucia bowed in return. When the prince entered to his palace, she quietly backed away.

The weary soldiers returned to their families and the crowds dispersed. Lucia was walking back to her place and she saw her mother running out to her. "My child!"

"Mother," she whispered, hugging her tenderly. Her mother ran her hands through her short hair and down her cheeks.

"I knew the moment Marcus' armor was missing…"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," she said, tears brimming in her eyes.

But her mother put a finger to her lips. "Hush now…we must go in quickly."

In the evening, the victory celebrations were massive as King Priam and his royal family watched from the elevated dais. Youths and marriageable maidens were dancing with their hand on one another's wrists, the girls in fine linen with lovely garlands on their heads, and the men in closely woven tunics showing the faint gleam of oil, and with daggers of gold hanging from their silver belts. They ran lightly round, circling as smoothly on their accomplished feet; and there they ran in lines to meet each other. A large crowd stood round enjoying the delightful dance, with a minstrel among them singing divinely to a lyre, while a couple of acrobats, keeping time with his music, threw cart-wheels in and out among the people.

Lucia watched the celebrations with detachment. It was not a victory for her -- she had lost her horse in battle and she still didn't know the identity of her brother's killer.

"Lucanus!"

She whirled around in surprise and gasped -- it was Captain Tyr.

"I have been looking all over the city for you. His Royal Highness, Prince Hector wishes your audience at the banquet hall," he said.

Lucia took a hesitant step back and shook her head. "I only did my duty to protect my prince. I do not deserve such an honor, sir. Please may I be excused?"

Captain Tyr stared at her as if she had grown two heads. "What? You would dishonor the prince if you did not go."

Reluctantly, she agreed to follow the captain. Lucia had never been inside the palace before and she was awed by the hanging gardens and tall pillars that lined the passageways. She followed the captain in silence, absorbing in the rich atmosphere until she reached the banquet hall. The huge iron doors opened to reveal a long table laden with rich food and red wine as the men had their fill of roast boar, fish and wild birds. At the far end was Prince Hector, dressed in a simple brown tunic and sandals. He stood up and raised his goblet to his men, saluting them. "Today, we've shown the Greeks that Trojans won't go quietly into the night and we will prevail!"

The men cheered and downed their wine. Lucia approached the prince cautiously and bowed.

"Come and sit with me," Prince Hector said, beckoning her to a seat next to him.

She held her breath and obeyed. Captain Tyr who was beside the prince said, "Lucanus is the cousin of Marcus, our best rider."

"Yes, I remember Marcus. He was a fine soldier," the prince said solemnly. "You honor him by wearing his armor."

"Thank you, Your Highness."

"Where does your family live?"

"I don't have a family – my parents are dead but I have an aunt and a surviving cousin in Troy," she told a lie – well partly. "They live on a farm just outside the city."

"I have not been to the villages and farms in a long while. Perhaps, when this war is over," the prince said with a wistful tone. "Tell me, what do you wish for Lucanus? Gold, riches… women?"

The good captain slapped her back and laughed heartily. Lucia drew a sharp breath and felt her cheeks blush. "I am only a simple man. I do not wish these gifts. I only wish to avenge the man who killed my cousin."

Suddenly, the prince's expression darkened. "The man who killed your cousin is called Achilles. Have you heard of him before?"

Lucia nodded. "I only hear rumors about him – that he cannot be killed."

"He is a skilled warrior with the strength of a thousand bulls…if he were on the battlefield today then many more Trojans would have died by his sword," added Captain Tyr grimly.

I would have had my revenge, she muttered to herself but the prince did not hear her. The noise in the room lowered as all attention was focused on the tall and elegant woman who had just come in. Lucia observed her graceful walk and beautiful clothes – it indicated that she was of noble upbringing. The men rose from the table and bowed to her as Prince Hector greeted her with a kiss.

She realized that it was Prince Hector's wife, Princess Andromache. She had heard of her beauty immortalized in songs and poems. Suddenly, Lucia saw a window of opportunity to flee from the hall. She quietly edged herself away while the prince was with his wife. Nobody realized she had slipped away as they were busy drinking and celebrating. When she reached the gates of the palace, only did she breathe a sigh of relief. That was too close for comfort.

%%%%%

"My love, you have come to celebrate with us," Hector told his wife.

"I can't wait to meet the boy who saved your life," Andromache said, with a wry smile.

"He's here with me." Hector turned around and saw the empty space where Lucanus had sat. Where did he go? How strange…

"He was here a while ago." Hector shook his head in bewilderment.

"Perhaps he has gone after a pretty slave girl," she suggested, looking at the scores of young slave girls who danced and served the men.

Hector smiled and said, "I suppose he has."

TBC