Thank you all for your reviews, I kept them in mind as I wrote this chapter. All your critiques and suggestions are really helpful, thank you to all of you who do put in corrections. Hope you all enjoy this next chapter.
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The bandits were captured and new rules put in place. Now all priestess parties would be accompanied by first-rate guards, who would escort them to and from the manor. In order to preserve the maidens' chastity, the guards would depart as soon as they arrived, returning to Troy alone, and would make the journey back to the manor to escort the women back.
Cassandra's leg quickly healed and within four months was as good as new. Briseis stayed with the party and came back anxious to hear the women tell of their adventure. She gasped at the appropriate places and congratulated them on their bravery, then told of her own experiences. The trip had been successful, Briseis had observed the rituals and was anxious to start the process herself.
Priam was still striving for peace in the region. Most of the hostile cities had been befriended and he'd open negotiations with the others. Hector was informed that he'd most likely be traveling again soon, though not for awhile at least. Andromache enjoyed caring for Cassandra and Hector had a new project to work on, which was proving to be somewhat difficult.
"Paris, keep your arm low," Hector corrected him as his brother parried another stroke. Paris had been a master at avoiding combat training but Hector had finally put his foot down.
"If it's low then my head is left exposed," Paris shot back, jumping out of the way to avoid another stroke.
"Your shield will protect your head, you must worry about your legs," Hector retorted, proving his point by a quick swing at his brother's knees. Paris awkwardly blocked the stroke but the impact knocked him to the ground, his sword flying out of his hand.
"Get up," Hector said tiredly.
Paris shook his head. "I'd rather stay here, thank you. It's much safer," he said, grinning.
"Lying on the ground totally exposed without any sort of defense weapon is safer? I fail to see how."
"Because you're a man of honor and you'd never come after an unarmed man," Paris retorted cheekily.
"I'm not the one you'll be fighting," Hector said, slowly advancing on his brother. "So do not assume that I'll show you mercy, because in battle there is none."
Paris cockily closed his eyes and Hector stopped, slightly flabbergasted. He could not attack his brother who was unarmed and Paris refused to fight.
"Paris, don't be difficult."
"You have our roles reversed, brother. You are the one who is difficult, otherwise I would be able to beat you."
"You've no experience," Hector retorted. "And you never practice. Any man here could overcome you in combat."
"Well then, find me someone I may overcome and perhaps I'll be induced to fight," Paris said lazily.
"Oh, come, Paris," Andromache encouraged, stepping out from behind a bush nearby. "I'm sure you're not that bad."
"You're wrong," both Hector and Paris said at the same time.
"I'm sure I could find someone you could beat," Andromache continued, ignoring their interruption.
"Well, my dear sister, if you do them I will be happy to fight them," Paris said gallantly.
"Come then," Andromache said. "I have no doubt you could beat me."
Both the brothers looked at her incredulously. "Darling Andromache, I'm not so weak as to be reduced to fighting against a woman," Paris protested.
"Yes, but I'd like to try it," she argued. "Just once."
Hector was shaking his head and Paris was looking at her oddly. "Andromache, it's too dangerous," Hector said.
"Just lightly," she replied. "I'd like to try it."
Paris cast Hector a teasing look. "Refusing her could leave you with a very unhappy wife."
Hector glared at him. "Odd, I seem to remember you claiming just a moment ago that you would not be reduced to fighting a woman."
"Oh, I won't fight her," Paris said quietly. "I'll just lightly strike at her sword, this way she'll get the satisfaction she wants. You can watch, call out instructions, and at any moment stop the fight."
Hector looked doubtful, but nodded. "Very slowly, though," he said sternly to Andromache, who nodded.
He handed her a sword but opted to discard shields. "Too heavy," he explained, taking Paris's from him and tossing it to the side.
Paris grinned at her, approaching her slowly. She held the sword in both hands, awkwardly pointing it out in front of her. As he came within reach he gently swung it at her, staying well away from her body. She brought her sword up and smiled when she heard the "ching" of the two weapons colliding.
"Such talent," Paris praised her teasingly.
"This is fun!" she cried, blocking another gentle swing. Hector smiled, watching. Paris was treating her as if she was made of glass, which relieved him considerably. The strokes were as though he was fighting a little child, but Andromache couldn't have been happier. With every clang of the weapons colliding, she smiled more brightly. Feeling very talented, she ventured to swing at Paris in return. He easily blocked the weak movement and Hector called out instructions.
"Stay light on your feet, Andromache. And flex your wrist a bit, make that movement be the motion to change the direction of your sword."
She responded brilliantly and swung again at Paris, this time at his head. Instead of blocking he ducked, allowing her to feel that she had come near to beating him.
"I almost had you," she said warningly, blocking another light stroke.
"Almost," he agreed, gently parrying a weak swing from her.
"Is this how you practice?" she asked as they slowly fought.
He nodded, gently swinging at her head. She brought her sword up to block.
"How does someone finally win?"
"Like this," he responded teasingly, a sharp flick of his wrist sending her sword-hand away from her body as he brought his own up to point at her head. "I win," he said smugly. Andromache smiled.
"I don't know why you prefer not to fight," she said, handing her sword to Hector. "I think it's great entertainment."
"Only when you're watching," Paris retorted.
She shook her head. "No, it's fun to do, also. No wonder men like it so much."
"Not all men," he pointed out. "It's slightly hard to enjoy yourself when you're being beaten into the ground."
"Like this," Hector said dryly, moving her out of the way and going after his brother. In a few seconds, Paris had lost his sword again and landed hard on the ground.
"Like that," Paris agreed. "Oh well, at least I can beat someone."
"Paris, I would be most happy to act as your fighting partner," Andromache said solemnly. "You may beat me as often as you wish."
"Thank you, Andromache," Paris said laughingly, kissing her as he departed. "It is a great comfort, to hear you say that."
"Where are you going?" Hector called out wearily at his brother's retreating figure. "We've only just begun."
"There is a lovely maiden down in the city that requires my attention," Paris called out, ducking through the trees and quickly disappearing.
Hector sighed. "I don't know what to do with him."
"Let him be," Andromache kissed him on the cheek and tucked her hand into his. "He'll come to no harm."
Hector strolled with her through the gardens, stopping to pluck a flower from a vine. "He's too young," he informed her, handing her the flower. "Paris still acts as though he was a child with no responsibilities."
"He'll grow up some day," Andromache answered, taking in the flower's scent. "He's just spoiled, but he'll grow out of it."
Hector shook his head. "He's a prince of Troy, he should've grown out of it by now."
"Titles don't mean anything, Hector," Andromache pointed out. "Paris is still Paris."
"But it casts a bad image on our family, he can't afford to be causing problems among the people."
"Hector, the people love you. Though they grumble about Paris' escapades- especially when it's their wife he's gallivanting off with- they adore you. Your high moral standards and your devotion have won you their hearts, they could never hate your family. And your father is a good king, one that has protected them for many years."
"Still, my brother's escapades cause too many problems," Hector argued.
"Well, one day he'll meet a good woman and settle down," Andromache replied. "Don't worry."
"But until he does, the problem still need addressing. He needs to learn to mind."
"Somewhere, there's a woman that will teach him to mind, just be patient." She smiled up at him, looking adorable. He kissed her.
"Then perhaps we should help him find her," he teased. "Seems that having a wife makes a man settle down considerably."
She arched an eyebrow. "What, were you so unmanageable before I came along? I wonder you dare admit it."
"Oh, there are some good stories I've no doubt you'll hear," he retorted dryly. "Artrides has some entertaining ones."
"We should invite him over for dinner, then," she said innocently. "You do love entertainment."
"Somehow, I believe others will be more entertained than myself," he shot back. "But it was nice of you to think of me."
She laughed and they walked back to their room, enjoying their conversation. They talked late into the night, finally falling asleep just a few hours before dawn.
"You know, it's nice to have been married for two years already, and still have things to talk about," Hector said drowsily, almost asleep.
"It is indeed," Andromache said softly, her eyes heavy. "A good sign, I believe."
"I agree," Hector said. "Make sure we never run out of things to talk about."
"Oh, there will always be things to talk about, don't worry." Andromache yawned, barely awake now. "Remind me to tell you of my shopping trip to the market a few days ago."
"I will," Hector was barely awake. "Goodnight, love."
She didn't reply; she was already asleep. Hector joined her in a few seconds, lying on his side facing her. They'd talked for hours and tomorrow they would do so again. Their conversations never seemed to run dry and their time together never seemed to grow stale. Even when they spent it in silence, it was an easy silence, not brought on by lack of words.
There was always something to talk about together.