Briseis and the other girls slept fitfully that night, constantly awoken by strange noises and loud yells. They awoke the following morning, groggy and ill-rested, quite out of temper. There were snaps to "move your feet" and "stop breathing on me," followed by sarcastic comments and cutting barbs.
It was when one girl commented on another being a "temporary maiden in service," that Damaris put an end to the fighting.
"That's enough," she ordered sharply, looking up from where she was conversing with Briseis. "Either treat each other kindly or hold your peace, I'll have no more of these childish remarks."
"And who made you mistress over us, Damaris?" a girl snappishly asked.
"No one," she replied sweetly. "But unless this stops I'll see to it that you are given to the vilest, cruelest man in the camp."
The maiden was silent after that, sulking in the corner. Damaris sighed and turned back to Briseis.
"But consider what will happen if we do fight," Damaris replied softly to Briseis' suggestion. "We'll only be given to another man, and more cruelly cheated."
"Escape," Briseis pointed out.
Damaris shook her head. "They patrol the camp, and we're too far to travel on foot. We'd die of starvation or wild beasts. Our best chance is to submit without question and hope for a miracle."
"Damaris, I cannot submit," Briseis whispered fervently. "I must become a priestess, and I cannot allow any man to take away my chances just for his personal pleasure. It does not matter if I survive, my dream will be shattered."
Damaris looked at her sympathetically. "But what else can we do?"
"Fight it," Briseis said firmly. "Any way we can. Make them drunk, distract them, anything."
A sudden noise outside interrupted their planning and both girls craned their ears to hear the words.
"Liander! Where are the beauties you promised me?" A loud voice called out.
"Beauty, Syrius, just one. We've only a few as it is."
"For the slaughter of the Trojan Prince, I only get one?!" he said in mock horror. "What treachery is this?"
"One will satisfy you," came the calm reply.
"Are we all to get one?"
"Just eight of us."
"Only eight?!"
"Eight others managed to escape, but we captured the eight other maidens and the four priestesses."
"Why not distribute them as well?"
"It's one thing to take a maiden, it's another to openly blaspheme the gods. You may be willing to gamble with your life but I am not. They will not be touched."
"Such sorrow," came the mocking reply. "Who is to get a girl, then?"
"You, myself, and three of your best men. Pick the ones that fought valiantly and I shall do the same. I pick first, then you, and so on."
"Well, I know which of my men are worthy of such a treasure, we can start now."
"The men I have chosen are on patrol, they return in a few hours. Patience, my friend, you'll not wed her until nightfall anyways."
"Since when am I to wed her?"
"Since you chose to have a girl," came the cool response, and the girls could hear Syrius chuckle.
"It makes no difference to me, I'm going to pass the time in slumber. Call me when you're ready."
The conversation ceased and Briseis cast a pointed look at Damaris. The other girl grinned ruefully.
"I pity the poor soul who is given to him."
"Careful, it might be yourself."
"Then I would most definitely kill him," Damaris said decidedly. "Any man is better than him. But I wonder if it would offend the gods."
"Even Artemis herself defends herself when she is dishonored. It is no different for us to the do the same," Briseis replied simply. The girls feel into silence then, knowing there was nothing to do but wait.
Wait, and pray.
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As the hours wore on, Andromache began to worry for her husband. It was clear that his injury was bothering him and he was sagging slightly in the saddle. In any other person, the signs wouldn't have been noticed, but in Hector they were clear. As the sun climbed higher and the heat rose, his eyes began to close tiredly every so often.
Andromache gently took the reins from him without saying a word and he looked at her, his face admitting tiredness.
"Thank you," he said, closing his eyes and supporting himself with his arms. Though he couldn't sleep this way, it allowed his body to relax and rest, albeit slightly.
Hours passed and soon Artrides rode over as they came out of the forest and into a hilly region. "Towards Mount Ida?"
Hector nodded. "The other areas have been cleared, though I cannot understand why they'd make that area their base."
"Well, we'll search there. You're sure there's no other place?"
"We've been doing sweeps of the area, no other camps have been found. That region is the only one that remains."
Artrides nodded and returned to the head of the party. The day wore on and soon brought them to the hottest point of the day. It was at this point that they finished navigating the valley of hills and came to the beginning of a barren wasteland.
"This is it," Artrides muttered, gazing at it disgustedly. It stretched on, a flat plain filled with sharp rocks, and no shade to protect them from the sun's glare. He sighed and kicked his horse into a walk, followed closely by the soldiers.
Hector and Andromache rode side by side, she on his right. She distastefully noticed the journey ahead of them.
"It seems the gods threw all the vileness of the earth in this plain," she said hatefully.
Hector glanced at her, an amused smile on his face which then turned to puzzlement. "Stay a minute." He moved his head around, his eyes always locked on the same spot and he pointed it out to her. "Do you see that?"
Andromache followed the direction of his outstretched hand and saw a flash on the ground. She handed her reins to Hector and slid off her horse. "It's a hair clasp," she called out.
"Artrides! Come here!" Hector yelled to him, stiffly sliding off his own horse. He hurried over to Andromache and took the clasp from her hand. "It's Briseis's," he stated firmly. By now Artrides had reached them and Hector handed the clasp to him. "I gave it to her for her sixteenth birthday. It has the priestess's decree on it, right there." He pointed to the small lettering that decorated the golden clasp.
"They couldn't have gone this way, though, there's a rock slide ahead that cuts off the passage."
Andromache studied the rock pile closely, slowly moving over to it. Artrides drew his sword and followed her, his hand on her arm to guide her. "Slowly, my dear."
The ravine on either side cast the area in shadow, and there were many dark crevices. Andromache shuddered to think what could be hiding in them. "There," she whispered, pointing to a passage masterfully hidden. It passed through the rock pile and the ravine in a sharp zig-zag, first cutting into the ravine and then reversing directions to pass out of it on the other side of the barrier. A single horse could fit through.
"There's the way the traveled," Artrides said, impressed. "Excellent eyes."
They hurried back over to their horses and mounted quickly, riding single file through the passage. Hector made Andromache go before him and as they passed through the unfamiliar territory, they craned their necks every which way to see the sights.
As they came to the edge of the ravine it opened to reveal a lush, green valley hundreds of feet below. A small cliff was the only passage down to the valley, but smoke could be seen rising not five miles distant.
"There they are," Hector murmured softly. Artrides nodded.
"Sentries, though," he warned.
"But the valley protects itself. The sentries will be within a hundred meters of the camp; it will be easy to surround them. They feel too safe."
Artrides quickly agreed and began issuing orders to the different groups of soldiers. After they'd formed a plan he turned to Hector and Andromache. "My party will approach the camp directly. You two will ride no closer than fifty meters behind us, or so help me I will bind you to a tree."
It was decided that the battalion would surround the camp and attack when the sentries were exchanged. This would give them a few hours to get into position, since sentries always changed places during dinnertime. Artrides gave permission for the soldiers to depart, and those surround the opposite side of the camp set off quickly, anxious to get into position. The rest of them waited nearly a half hour, then set off down the ravine.
As they descended down below the trees, Hector cast one last look at the smoke rising from the campfires.
I'm coming, Briseis.