Immortal Love
Chapter 2
Briseis hugged her lady cousin close. "Goodbye Andromache, I'll see you tonight at supper."
"Goodbye little one. Listen for the warning bells of Troy. The Greeks could attack any minute. And watch for approaching ships and run if you see them."
"I will, Andromache." Andromache kissed her younger cousin on the cheek and watched her leave for Apollo's temple on the beach.
"She's grown up isn't she?" Andromache remarked to Hector.
"Yes, I don't see why she chose the robes of Apollo. She'll soon see what a mistake that was." Andromache glanced at her husband smiling.
"I'm worried for her, Hector. We shouldn't have let her left; Greece could be here any day. Menelaus would have sailed for Troy the moment he knew Helen was missing." Hector frowned, creases lining his young face, reminding Andromache very much of King Priam, her father-in-law. "She could die." Hectors wife whispered in his ear, tears swelling in her cinnamon eyes.
"She won't," Hector replied firmly, hugging his wife strongly. Her frail figure wrapped in his large, muscular frame. "Briseis will be safe, my love. She is Apollo's servant, he would never put his own in the path of danger." Andromache nodded, comforted in her husband's warm hug. Still a nagging sense of uneasiness settled in her heart.
Briseis was happy when she walked down to the temple. The white, soft acolyte robes made her feel like a goddess and she felt a lustful feeling that she could walk past a group of the young men and make their heads turn with desire. 'Don't think those thoughts now,' she reminded herself. 'You're clean, pure, promised. A virgin forever,' she thought deluded.
Upon reaching the statute of Apollo, she bowed her head in awe and knelt down to pray quickly. After her prayer, she looked out towards the sea. It was shining and clear of boats today, not an enemy ship in sight. 'Keep me safe, Apollo,' she whispered to the statute before entering inside.
Several priests came to her and instructed her how to keep the altars and temple fresh and pleasing to the almighty god. Never in her life had she felt so much love for Apollo. She knew she was doing the right thing in serving him, how could she have ever doubted it?
A scream came from outside and Briseis ran out to see another priestess pointing at several ships beached on the shore, they had a black sail and warriors were issuing out of them like ants, all armed.
Hundreds of other ships followed them, bearing the sail of Greece and King Agamemnon. Towards the city, Troy's army was issuing forth from the walls, weapons raised and ready.
"Get inside!" a priest yelled at Briseis angrily. "Hide child! Get away! Flee! Those men are brutal killers! They will slay you and throw you aside as soon as even glance at your face."
Briseis's hands shook and she searched the temple for a hiding place where she could go undetected. There was none. 'Oh dear god Apollo, hear my prayer, keep me safe from the warriors of Greece, plea-.' Her prayer was interrupted as she heard feet running up the steps. She hid behind a curtain and cowered in fear. The waiting for someone to find her was torture. She couldn't get out of there alive.
The sound of many men entering the temple could be heard and the gasp of priests as they were killed. A dead acolyte fell down next to Briseis. His eyes were wide with the beckoning of the dead and dark black red blood trickled from his throat. She tried her very best not to scream or sob. The curtain, which she was hiding behind, was whipped aside and a savage warrior grinned a malicious smile. "Well look what we have here?" he murmured, taking a lock of Briseis's dark hair and rubbing it between his fingers.
"Stop," a man shouted, "all prizes go to Achilles!" The man who had found her grumbled, and shoved her to her feet.
"Stay here!" he demanded and then showed his knife, drenched with the blood of the priests. Briseis searched for a way out when all of the Greek warriors suddenly hid as if to ambush. A hand went around her mouth from behind her and an arm snaked around her waist to keep her from moving.
There was dead silence in the temple when suddenly Trojan soldiers came into view. Briseis struggled to run to them but the arm holding her was too strong. At once, the Greek soldiers attacked and killed several Trojans from their horses. She glimpsed Hector in his helmet fighting several of the enemy. Her silent screams were useless. She was captured now.
"Come on pretty," a warrior teased, pulling her arms painfully.
"Where are we going?" Briseis managed to say.
"Achilles tent, wench, you're his war prize."
"I am no war prize!" Briseis yelled, hitting the man in the head hard. "Especially not a murderer who kills priests of the sun god!" The soldier slapped her across the face with a force she had not expected. She fell backward on the sand and the tears that fell from her eyes stung her cheek.
"I'll take her," another warrior offered. The soldier who had just slapped her bowed with respect and stepped away.
"As you wish, Eudorus."
Eudorus took the upper arm of Briseis and led her gently to a large tent, twenty yards from the water. "Wait in here," he demanded, tying her wrists to the center pole in the middle of the tent with strong coarse rope. Briseis looked around her. Here and there stacked on the sand were piles of gold treasure, all looted from the temple of Apollo. Over to her right there was many gold chalice, farther away were black amphorae, stunning woven tapestries and goatskins filled with wine.
'What a beast this man is,' she thought. Apollo will surely smite him down from heaven in return for his disrespect. Briseis looked down at herself in distress. Her newly cherished robes were torn, her hair was matted and dirty, and her lip was bleeding. Probably not the best way to face a brutal killer.
"We have something to show you," a voice said near the tent. Briseis struggled to sit straight up but her bothersome bonds failed to let her. Two men came in. One was the man who had brought her to this tent before and another was a tall, broad muscled man with hair that resembled Helen's.
He stared at her heavily and Briseis stared back, fighting to contain her dignity and aristocratic posture. Something in Achilles softened when he saw Briseis. A little part of the great man melted when he saw the bleeding girl frightened but dignified.
"The men found her hiding in the temple, they thought she'd please you," Eudorus said with a slight sneer. 'Human waste,' Briseis thought, scowling at the man.
"Leave us," Achilles commanded. Eudorus bowed to his lord and left. Briseis watched as Achilles pulled out a small sharp blade. He knelt down to cut her bonds and free her. She rubbed her chafed wrists, trying to soothe the sting away. "What's your name?" Achilles asked her, watching her face calmly.
'Like I'll tell him, the bastard,' Briseis thought angrily as she stared back at him. Achilles looked at the blood on his arms and wiped it away, flinging a drop on her ankle. She looked pitifully for a way out of the hellish tent.
"You're safer in this tent then out there, believe me," Achilles informed her, hanging up his weapons.
"You killed Apollo's priests," Briseis whispered, searching his face.
"I've killed men in five countries, but never a priest."
"Then your men did. The Sun God will have his vengeance"
Achilles looked faintly amused as he glanced at Briseis. "What's he waiting for?
"The right time to strike," she replied, still watching for any signs of fear.
Achilles removed his bronze breastplate and layed it next to his weapons hanging on the rack. "His priests are dead and his acolyte is a captive. I think your god is afraid of me." Briseis laughed, bitterness reigning in her.
"Afraid? Apollo is master of the sun. He fears nothing," Briseis whispered.
"Then where is he?" Achilles murmured, leaning in to look into her eyes. She was silent and he smiled. A bucket of water and a wash clothe lay next to him and he started to scrub the dried blood off his body.
"You're nothing but a killer, you don't know anything about the gods," Briseis said, intending her words to cut deep.
"You haven't seen twenty summers and you think you know my heart? I know more about the gods then the priests could ever teach you. You're royalty aren't you?" She was silent, her anger rising towards Achilles.
"You've spent years talking down to men, you must be royalty. What's your name? Even the servants of Apollo have names"
"Briseis," she whispered, puzzled by this warriors politeness and grace.
"Are you afraid Briseis?" Achilles asked. She gazed back at him with fear and curiosity.
"Should I be?" she murmured.
"My lord-" Eudorous called from outside the tent.
"What is it?" Achilles replied, watching Briseis avert her gaze from him. Eudorous stuck his head inside the tent.
"King Agamemnon requests your presence."
"Why would I want to look at him when I can look at her?" Achilles asks, making Briseis turn red with anger and embarrassment.
"All the kings are there, celebrating victory." Achilles rose to his feet.
"Give me a moment." Eudorous left the tent while Achilles looked at Briseis.
"You don't need to fear me girl. You're the only Trojan who can say that," Achilles whispered as he closed the tent flap behind him.
Briseis watched him leave. Part of her didn't want him to go. She wanted to see more of this mystical man who wasn't as bad and wicked as she thought him to be. Achilles, she said his name aloud. It had a strange way on the tongue.
A flicker from the tent entrance made Briseis rise to her feet. She grabbed one of Achilles daggers in defense. Two large warriors opened the tent and took in the small girl with the knife in her hand. "You're to come with us girl," one of them said roughly attempting to grab her arm.
"Never," Briseis hissed, drawing the weapon up. In seconds, both men attacked her and pummeled her to the ground, disarming her at once. She felt bruises purpling on her fast and her lip had started to bleed once more. One of the men grabbed her by the back of her neck and the other by the arm. She squirmed in their grip but they would not let go. They dragged her out of the tent and brought her to a boat beached on the shore that was made to look like a large make keep palace.
They thrust her through a small entrance in which a guard stood before and to a small room behind a large chamber that Briseis guessed was where all the Greek Kings held meetings. At once, she noted Achilles strong voice, laced with anger and frustration. Another loud voice had a more demanding and forbidding tone to it. She guessed he was Menelaus or Agamemnon, the higher kings in Greece.
The kingly voice barked, "I already have! Aphareus! Haemon!" Both soldiers then dragged Briseis into the meeting hall and threw her down to the floor. Briseis looked up to meet Achilles furious eyes. "The spoils of war. Tonight I'll have her give me a bath. And then-who knows?" Briseis recoiled as if being bitten by a snake. She looked up into the face of a hideous man who had large chunks and scars on his face. Never could such a man have her. She was a virgin priestess! He wouldn't dare!
Briseis heard the sound of a sword being drawn and looked to Achilles to see him with his sword raised. He looked to the soldiers. "I have no quarrel with you, brothers. But you'll never see home again if you don't let her go." Briseis gaped at him. He would kill for her? She couldn't stand the thought. It caused her insides to twist and squirm at the thought of a man falling down to the ground, dead, all for her. What an evil thing!
"Guards!" Agamemnon yelled, the two sentries rushing towards Achilles swords drawn.
"Stop!" Briseis screamed, her commanding voice filling the room. The men turned to look at her, the weak bruised girl who acted as if she had hold of the world. "Too many people have died today." She looked at all the warriors around the room, her gaze finally lingering on Achilles. "If killing is your only talent then that's your curse, I don't want anyone dying for me," she directed towards Achilles who was watching her cautiously, still waiting for any movement from King Agamemnon, all he got was a laugh.
"Mighty Achilles, silenced by a slave girl," he remarked, leering at the warrior. Briseis looked at him with scorn and anger.
"She's not a slave," Achilles yelled, his eyes unmerciful towards the ruler.
Agamemnon hooted, his double chin wobbling, "She is now." Achilles took a leap towards the king but Briseis stopped him with her hand. Her eyes repeated her words silently to him, 'I don't want anyone dying for me.'
"Before my time is done, king of kings, I will look down on your corpse and smile," Achilles said and walked to the canvas tent door and left. Agamemnon watched him go with a furious frown.
"Of all the warlord loved by the gods, do you know who I hate the most, Haemon?" Agamemnon asked one of the sentries, still watching where Achilles had just departed.
"Who milord?"
"Achilles," Agamemnon hissed. [Okay I know Agamemnon really said that part at the beginning at the movie, but I thought it would be a good part to insert it here.] "Bring the slave girl to my rooms, tie her up how I normally like them." Briseis looked up into his face and started shaking with fear. "Oh don't worry pet, you'll like it," Agamemnon purred, petting her throat.
"Milord, several of the kings would like to speak with you about the war tomorrow. They hear Achilles won't fight," Odysseus said, rushing in out of breath.
"Damn Achilles," Agamemnon yelled, throwing his goblet of wine at the feet of Briseis where it hit her and the wine splashed and stained her dress. "Get her another Haemon!" the king ordered leaving to follow Odysseus. "Wait!" he commanded turning back, "actually she really won't need a dress at all."
"Horrid man!" Briseis screamed, kicking to get out of the sentries. Agamemnon laughed and left the tent.
"Hector!" Andromache screamed, as she ran to her husband, who was just entering the gates. "You're safe."
"Of course I am, Andromache," Hector replied, a tinge of sadness in his voice.
"What is it?" she asked, her eyes searching his fearfully.
"Briseis was taken by the enemy or even killed. We don't know."
"No," Andromache sobbed, her knees hitting the floor as she crouched down. Her tears slowly forming miniscule puddles as she wept. "Oh our poor Briseis," she whispered as Hector knelt down to pick his tiny wife up.
"She'll be alright," Hector murmured to his tiny wife, kissing her on the cheek to calm her. "We can only pray to the gods."