AN: I must apologize for the extremely long wait. I am terribly sorry. Please forgive me. To make up for it I have posted up this new chapter. Please enjoy it. And Please do not forget to review! Remember I do get discouraged! So please continue to encourage me! I would certainly appreciate it more than you know. Please Please enjoy. I have the next chapter done as well so the wait won't be much longer. Just typing it up that's all. Stay tuned! Next chapter is really interesting!(At least I think so) Thanks!

Part Three: Face to Face

The Greek camps are scarcely guarded. Why the camp is so lightly guarded at night, I do not know. Perhaps night is too sacred a time for war. None of the battles have been fought at night, I realize. But perhaps it is because of my inexperience in war that I do not possess this kind of knowledge.

I can easily slip past the guards unnoticed. But where will I go? I know not which tent belongs to Achilles. There are so many. I cannot search each and every single one of them. I must find a way to get to him. But what?

Stealth remains my strongest ally. I cannot get caught, otherwise I fail my mission and my brother. I cannot allow that to happen.

One of the guards is alone. An idea presents itself in my head. It's risky, but its the only idea I have at the moment.

I look to see if the guard is alone. He is completely alone. His surroundings are near empty, save for the scattered tents nearby. This is my chance! May luck be with me.

Slowly, I approach him from behind, carefully lifting my feet as lightly as I possibly could so as to not inform him of my presence. As I draw nearer, I can hear his every action and even his every breath. I hope he cannot hear mine.

With quick and nimble hands I grab him from behind and cover his mouth. I wrap my arms tightly against his body to render him immobile for the time being. He does not present much of a struggle for my strength surpasses his own.

"You will tell me which tent belongs to Achilles," I whisper softly to him. He continues to struggle, but my hold on him is firm. I look at his face. He is still young. Younger than me I suppose. He does not appear to be much older than eighteen.

After receiving no reply for my first question, I ask him again. This time my grip tightens. "Tell me and I will make your death swift and painless!"

I tremble a little at the words I have spoken for I know I would have to end this young man's life. There is no way I could let him go. If I were to set him free he would inform the entire camp of my presence.

He continues to struggle and I continue to keep a tight hold on him. I must be patient! I cannot allow this opportunity to slip past me.

He calms down after some time, but his body trembles slightly. I can feel the presence of fear within him.

Shakily, he lifts a finger and points towards a secluded tent towards the west. From what I see, the tent is oddly different from the rest. It certainly seems like the type of tent Achilles would occupy.

I begin to take out my sword while still keeping a tight grip on the young man with my other hand. I know what I must do, but can I do it? Can I go through with it? If only the gods could help me. But they have turned their backs on me. They have turned their backs on Troy.

I grow angry at the thought of the gods. My heart begins to pound. If it were any louder the entire camp would be able to hear it. My palms begin to sweat and I nearly drop the sword. My hands tremble as I pierce my sword through the young man's back.

I find myself shaking uncontrollably after I push the young man's corpse away. I cannot control my movements. I need a moment to contemplate my actions. I feel dizzy. The world around me is spinning around. I feel dirty and I almost feel like vomiting. He is the first person I have ever killed.

My hands are filled with blood. Blood that I had spilt. Murderer! My emotions are taking over once again. Not now! I must be strong! I cannot be weak now. I have been weak my entire life, but no longer! And no longer will anyone fight my battles for me. I must prove myself!

With a mix of confidence and fear, I slowly approach Achilles' tent. The thought of my brother gives me courage. I hope it will be enough to face Achilles.

There is no running anymore. This is it.

I enter the tent, unprepared for what I am about to see. I notice the interior of the tent before anything else. Quite an ornate tent for a mere soldier. Such fine decorations. Worthy of a warrior of the highest rank.

I see Achilles. He notices me not. He sits on his bed of furs with his head down. In his hands he holds a necklace crafted of seashells. It must belong to the young boy Hector killed. I pity him for his loss.

"Leave me," he says to me. Clearly he does not know that I am no soldier of the Greek army. And his voice. His voice is so full of anger, and yet I can hear a trace of sadness in it.

There is another in the tent-a woman! She lies in the corner of the tent with her head hidden on her knees. I cannot see her face, but those sobs are familiar. I know that woman! Briseis!

I had thought her dead when I learned of the desecration of Apollo's temple. But I was mistaken. My eyes do not deceive me. She lives!

"Briseis!" I cry out as I run up to her. Surely that would have gained Achilles' attention, but that does not matter at the moment. I must see how my cousin fares.

I reach her and she lifts up her head. Her eyes gaze upon mine for the moment. I look into hers. She has seen and endured much. There is much sadness in those deep hazel eyes.

"Briseis," I say to her as I raise her head to level with mine. "What have they done to you?"

She does not respond. A stray tear rolls down her cheeks. Her eyes turn a different direction. She is looking behind me. I know why.

I can feel Achilles cold blade touch the back of my neck. It's very touch is enough to send a shiver down my spine. I remain still. I cannot allow it to be over yet. He must hear me out first.

"Please," Briseis says to him with pleading eyes. "Please do not harm him! He has done nothing! Let him be!"

Her words do not reach his ears. Instead, he speaks to me.

"What is your business here, Prince of Troy," he asks. His blade caresses my neck and makes its way to my shoulders.

"Turn and face me!" he demands. I do so without hesitation, but not in fear of him, but because I desire to look upon his face. The face that has filled so many with terror.

He appears to be the same age as my brother. Like a warrior who has seen much fighting, he bears scars on his face. Other than that, there is nothing intimidating about his appearance. Perhaps it is his behavior in the field of battle that imparts fear into his opponents.

"I wish to bargain with you Achilles."

TBC...

AN: I Hope you liked it! Submit review PLEASE! Comments and suggestions are GREATLY appreciated.