An Unlikely Union
Quick Comment: The Chapter you have all been waiting for (although though it is pretty lengthy - sorry about that)! Hope it doesn't disappoint! (Reviews as always please!)
8. The Boarding House
They rode for another day before they reached the outskirts of the little port-town Achilles had talked of. It felt strange for Sofia to see civilisation again. As they trotted up the dusty road towards the town, little children who were playing in the outer fields appeared like nymphs and chased the horse a little, giggling and trying to pat its rump, excited to see such weird and wonderful strangers. Hector laughed a little tinkling laugh as Sofia bent down from her perch to take from one little boy a delicate white flower he shyly offered her as a present. Smiling, she slid the flower behind one ear into her wavy hair and patted the boy on the head in thanks, ruffling his sandy brown hair.
The tops of the crumbling sun-baked buildings could be seen as the road wound into the town, through the colourful market and out to the glistening bay. The townspeople seemed jolly, prosperous. Some stall holders offered up their wares to Hector and Sofia as they passed, a hard sell – fruit ("freshest this side of town!"), jewellery ("for the pretty lady!"), even chickens ("good egg layers... tasty meat!"). Perhaps they assumed Hector and Sofia were some sort of rich couple because of Hectors noble countenance, their clothes, the handsome horse or maybe even the heavy bronze sword Hector carried. Hector graciously declined every offer.
"If we thought we could sneak into this town unnoticed I think we were wrong!" He whispered in Sofia's ear, still smiling.
Still, it did not seem to bother him too much. Obviously used to such attention, she thought.
Teasing glimpses of the sea peeped out from between the crowded buildings, - it looked still, blue, pure almost as if they could walk on its surface all the way back to Troy.
It was not difficult to find the boarding house Achilles had talked of. It was the only one in the town; a ramshackle looking building on a hill beside the bay which looked as if it might slide into the sea at any moment with it's wonky walls.
The inn-keeper was expecting them; the room was mysteriously already paid for – Achilles had been meticulous in his planning. The inn-keeper looked trust-worthy enough Sofia thought but then she reminded herself she was still on Greek shores – and nobody could be trusted. He was a little short balding man, not taller than Sofia with a smiling face and ruddy cheeks which made him look as if he had been dipping into his own wine stocks a little too often. He showed them to their room without asking any questions, smoothing the last few strands of hair he had down onto his oval head with his podgy hand.
--0--
Hector sat on the only chair in the sparse room. It was small, made for a woman – perhaps an old nursing chair. Positioned by the window, he was there for what seemed like an age, staring beyond the vine-covered window ledge out to the sapphire blue sea. Mesmerized.
He would occasionally shift uncomfortably making the knotted wooden frame creak in protest under his weight. The chair was far too small for his tall frame, making him hunch and appear older than his years. But if he did find it uncomfortable, it did not seem to bother him. His thoughts distracted him. His eyes were glazed and his frown deep, almost unnerving as he gazed as if he was straining across the Aegean's expanse to see Troy's golden shores with his naked eye. Hectors heart was weighed with longing just as a child longs for its mother. Longing for the fair city of Troy.
Her high fortress walls, smooth and unbreachable.
Her rich green gardens, scented by herbs during the day and mimosa during the warm summer evenings.
The great temple of Apollo, patron god of Troy, glinting on the beach like the golden sun itself, welcoming Trojans home from long weary journeys from across the treacherous sea.
The Trojan people – his people. Faithful and god-fearing, they maintained Troy's affluence and kept it protected. Sons, husbands, fathers and brothers – fearless warriors in Troy's famous militia. Many had fought for Hector, died for him. For Troy. He loved and respected them all.
He should have been sitting in the grand council hall of Troy's palace right at that moment, with its tall oil lamps and splendid tapestries celebrating victorious battles gone by. Instead of perched on a tiny chair, he should be sat enthroned and proud next to his father King Priam, conferring with the assembly about politics and war strategy. Men's talk. Hector wasn't sure how long Troy's walls would stand without him there, not now with the alliance of warlord Agamemnon and his brother Menelaus, spurned husband of Helen.
King Priam although old, still held all his faculties. But he was more superstitious than his eldest son and often heeded the advice from the priest over his generals. Hector feared and respected the gods like any good Trojan but was sceptical of so-called omens from Apollo. To him, strange sightings of birds and serpents could not sway fortunes in battle as well as sharp bronze and quick wits. But Priam would often make dangerous calculated decisions based on these omens alone.
And then there was Paris, Hectors little brother. In his absence Paris would be commanding the Trojan army now. But he was no commander or natural leader. Over-indulged by Priam as a boy, he could be capricious and petulant, often letting his heart rule his head. Many ranks in the army resented Paris for stealing Helen away from Sparta, for bringing the blood-thirsty Greeks to Trojan shores.
Hector needed to go back.
He was oblivious to the faint, almost soothing sound of waves crashing against the nearby beach and rocky black cliffs. The tide was coming in; the light breeze that sprayed the white stallions of foam also ruffled Hectors dark curls as it floated into the room. The sun was beginning to set, illuminating the roughly rendered walls of the room a marvellous burnt orange colour like the bronze Troy was so famous for. Judging by the sunset, it was to be a beautiful day the next day.
Sofia stirred on the bed. The crisp weaved sheet slipped from her waist to mid thigh as she fidgeted. She could not sleep although laying on the soft mattress felt like laying on a springy mound of sweet grass compared to the days and nights she had spent in that cramped cell like a wild animal. She was now clean and dry, a stupid wish that seemed beyond any hope a few days before. As she rolled onto her back, she took a deep breath. Beneath the robe her chest rose like the lush hills circling the bay beyond the window as she relished the smell of fresh air. Strange how things she had normally taken for granted now meant so much to her.
But the fresh air did not signal freedom. Not yet.
The worries that she had somehow managed to tuck into the farthest corners of her mind were now struggling to be set loose like a lobster in a pot. Her body and mind were so weary; it felt to her that they had become detached from each other. Numb and afraid of sleep, afraid of the nightmares that might visit her there. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine that she was back in her village, back at her home. Walking barefoot across the stream at the bottom of the vegetable garden, cooling her feet in the crystal waters. But all she could see was thick smoke and licking flames, all she could hear was a child, too young to understand death, crying. Frightened and desperate for his mother's comfort. The pit of her stomach rose to stick in her throat and dizzy with insecurity she shifted over in the bed once more, turning to look at Hector. He was so quiet she imagined he had abandoned her. But he was still there of course. She sighed in relief, her stomach coming back to rest in its proper place. Her messy brown hair had partially obstructed her gaze but instead of brushing it away she watched him through the straggly tresses, childlike; it made him a fuzzy sight. It didn't make him look so troubled somehow.
She felt so useless. Perhaps he might have already chartered a ship and set sail for Troy if she hadn't been slowing him down. A millstone around his neck. But if he felt that of her, he would never tell. It was not his way. She just wished she could do something to make it all better, all right.
"Why do you not come and rest for a while Hector?"
"I am not tired" He answered dismissively not turning his attention away from the azure horizon line.
She sat up on the bed, a little vexed by his cold tone. He had seemed so untroubled when they entered town, the sight of the sea seemed to give him excited anticipation of the last leg of their journey home. But now ...it was if he was a stranger. She followed his unrelenting stare out of the window. In the distance, two tiny ships with white sails appeared to be playing in the waves, trying to chase each other off the ends of the earth.
"Are you thinking of Troy?" Sofia attempted to engage him in some sort of conversation, a little lonely and in need of reassurance.
But he ignored her almost as if she were a servant at his palace, definitely present but socially invisible. She sank back down on to the bed in defeat, hand against her forehead, palm facing the ceiling.
"Well I cannot sleep either ...."She sighed to nobody in particular.
A long time passed before Hector spoke again. The cockroach Sofia had been watching bumble its way across the ceiling had had reached its destination – a dusty crack in the corner.
"You should not be troubled tonight. I have given you your freedom, a roof over your head, and clean bed. What more can you ask of me?"His firmness was unkind, arrogantly spoken.
Sofia could feel her blood rushing to the surface of her skin aching to be cooled. The lump in her throat told her that she wanted to cry.
"I have asked nothing of you. Yes prince, you have graced me with all that – but if you are so all-powerful why can you not take away the fear that if I close my eyes, I may never open them again?"
"After everything, you have no respect?"Hector still did not condescend to face her, his eyes angry and cruel.
This aggravated Sofia more.
"Yes, I have respect. For those who are worthy, Hector. But how can I have any respect for you if you have none for me? I may not be royalty but do not talk down to me like I am a fool. We are not in Troy now. Back in that disgusting cell and right at this moment - in this room - you are no better than me. So do not assume that you are!" Her voice was shrill as the swallows riding the warm air outside.
He had shown infinite kindness over the past few days, she could not understand the sudden relapse. She got up from the bed quickly in rage, her face red. She blinked trying to halt the inevitable tears, not wanting Hector to think she was crying for his sympathy. She paced around the room purposefully, picking up the dagger from where it lay on the floor and tucking it into her belt. She threw her cloak around her shoulders, lifting the hood over her head and tucking her hair into the dark folds.
Hector said nothing as he watched her stomp around the room, a little taken aback by her sudden outburst. Sofia continued shouting at him:
"The Greeks will have found us by tomorrow, I know you are trying to hide it from me, but I am not stupid! And even if we do escape what will become of us? I can tell you what will become of you. You will receive a hero's welcome. You will be back into the arms of your family and be ready to fight another glorious battle some other time. But I have nothing. My village was raised to the ground, my family are dead. What will I do? Become a farmer's wife with no recommendation or dowry? A beggar? A whore? No better than that fate that awaits me in Sparta I can assure you!" She raged, arms flailing wildly to make her point. She turned away and made for the door.
Hector tried to block her path but she pushed him away curtly with the palm of her hand.
"Where are you going?" He asked in concern.
Sofia ignored him
"You must come back to Troy! You will be fine, I will see to it...I will make sure you have a purpose, you could live within the city ...." He continued, his dark eyes quietly pleading.
"I do not wish to play nursemaid to the illegitimate children of kings and princes nor do I wish to scrub royal floors." She interjected calmly, dismissively.
Hector did not rise to it. He rolled his eyes in defeat. Perhaps she was right.
"I am leaving you Hector, to make my own fortunes in this world. I will slow you down no longer; I can tell you detest me for it"
She could hardly pronounce her statement, beginning to weep hysterically. Hectors harsh words and the thought of her future whirred round her head like a moth trapped in a lamp. The possible futures that lay ahead of her – most likely to die soon at the wrong end of a Greek blade ... or to be enslaved at Menelaus' palace ... at best to become a penniless wretch back at Troy. As Sofia tried again to ineptly make for the door through her blurry tears, he grabbed her firmly at the wrists with both hands in desperation. She tried to push him out of the way, violent with wrath and self-pity but of course, he was much too big for her to defeat. He clamped onto her wrists hard, his giant hands like pincers trying to restrain her, waiting for her to calm down. His fingers could feel raised bumps, imprints of rope where she had once been tied tightly by the Greeks. The more she struggled in his grip, twisting her wrists in an unnatural way, the more it hurt. Finally defeated she sunk to the floor, foetally trying to protect herself from her own overwhelming angst.
She looked a pitiful sight, sitting there. It was the first time Hector had really seen her succumb to her fear, the first time this brave woman had appeared to give up. His eyes softened as he scooped her whole limp body up into his strong arms like a pile of cloth, carrying her to the bed. He sat beside her as she lay there, clumsily reaching out to stoke her hair, not knowing how to comfort her. She did not respond.
"Sofia, if you cannot remain strong, how can I? Don't leave me now. Make you Papa proud ... he watches over you too."
She sat up and faced him, pulling clumps of her hair away that had stuck to her face with tears. What did he say? Overwhelmed by her normally suppressed fragility, he folded her into his arms and tucked her head under his chin, holding her and feeling remorseful for how unkind he had been earlier. The bristles of his beard tickled her forehead.
"Come, dry your eyes ...I am sorry about earlier, I did not mean to upset you so. It's just that I can't stop thinking of home. I didn't think." He explained, gently wiping the tears from her soaked eyelashes with his huge thumbs.
"Thinking of Troy? That is a good thing for me to hear! When I first met you all you wanted to do was die." Sofia exclaimed.
Hector thought for a moment
"You suddenly made my life more valuable." He smiled, stroking her hair from her face.
Her heart was pounding, making her feel light headed. What should she say now? What should she do now? She blurted the first thing that came into her head.
"Hector ... about yesterday"
"Which part?"
"When I bathed in the lake. I know you were watching me".
Inappropriate perhaps but somehow boundaries meant nothing anymore. Nothing did. Not past. Not future. It was strange to see Hector look so embarrassed. He hung his head awkwardly blinking as fast as his mind was racing.
He hadn't meant to spy. As he was bending down in some bushes near the waters edge he had heard a distant splashing noise. Alarmed at the thought that it might have been caused by Greek soldiers crossing the lake in preparation for an ambush, he peered through the branches as he crouched there. But what his eyes were met with were not burly men but a single, slender female figure, a naked back, the waters surface not quite covering the top of the buttocks. It was Sofia. He knew it was not right to continue to watch but he simply couldn't help himself. She was singing sweetly to herself as she bathed unawares. With her back still to him, she cupped both her hands in the shimmering water and poured the contents leisurely over her chest and neck, the length of her hair pulled over one shoulder leaving her back completely exposed. Her skin looked almost edible like the sweet inner flesh of an apple or melon. The sight of her glistening back was wonderfully erotic; an hourglass figure - the nape of her neck curving out to her shoulder blades then down to the sides of her pert breasts, in sharply at her small waist then sublimely out again to her broad hips and full buttocks. She began to swim, gliding through the water with ease like a mythical mermaid his father had told him tales about as a boy. She swam a little closer to him and stood for a moment, staring into the water, her wet hair hanging like a pair of curtains over her shoulders, barely covering her breasts. He swallowed hard and forced himself to look away, ashamed at his own arousal.
Sofia knew he was watching. She had seen a flash of bronze glint far up on the bank. – the dagger which Hector had taken to set up the traps. But he did not appear to be setting up any traps. The glint was unmoving, the sun reflecting off an inanimate, unused object. Just as she began to swim she shivered a little as the water enveloped her chest and shoulders – but not because the water was cold. Yes, she could feel he was watching.
As she confronted him, he could do nothing but tell the truth, the stealth of her statement meant he was unable to brush it aside. A direct hit by an unseen arrow.
"I am sorry ... I did not mean to linger ... I could not help it. It has been a while since I have seen a woman. Like that."
"And did you like what you saw?"
Hector could not quite believe or understand her boldness. His cheeks flushed as if he were an inexperienced seventeen year old boy. He couldn't tell if it was excitement or embarrassment that made his blood rush. He nodded his head and smiled.
"Very much so."
Surprisingly to Hector, Sofia didn't look offended that he had spied on her. She just looked confused.
"Then why did you not kiss me last night?"She almost couldn't bring herself to ask it. Maybe she didn't really want to know. No, no. She definitely needed to know.
"... was it because of your wife?" She continued.
Hector was speechless. It was an awkward situation - awkward yet perhaps a little exciting - in a strange way. His heart was palpitating in his chest, he could feel it. Nervous like a seventeen year old again. He just shook his head in the negative.
"Do you not find me attractive?" Sofia persevered.
Hectors composure slightly regained, he tried his best to diplomatically explain.
"You are an exceptional woman Sofia. Why do you think you were earmarked for Menelaus, King of Sparta? But you deserve so much more than that, simply just being a prize for a man's bed. It makes my blood boil just thinking about it. You deserve to be a prize for a man's arm, for him to show you off to the world with pride."
"Please stop talking in riddles Hector ... if you don't then just say it ..."
He rolled his eyes in frustration at himself. He could talk easily about war strategy and horse riding, why could he not articulate himself well enough to tell her how he felt?
"Yes. I think you are very beautiful."
"Well, am I not good enough for you, is that it?"
"More like I am not good enough for you! ... Look - in truth, my body says 'yes' but my mind tells me 'no'. The only reason is that is just not the right situation, I don't want to take advantage of you whilst you are so vulnerable ..."
"Take advantage? I am not a naïve child Hector. I know what goes on between men and women; I just have never actually experienced it for myself! And as for the situation ... well, do you really think that if we met in Troy – which is highly unlikely in itself – anything would have happened? Between the prince and the village girl?" Sofia exclaimed.
Hector knew she was right. He hung his head a little ashamed; he knew he was making it sound like he was rejecting her when in truth he wanted to do nothing of the sort. Sofia watched his face, watched his mind ticking. She could understand where he was coming from ... her mind said no too. The last thing she wanted to do was fall for a prince. What a ridiculous notion that was! But her heart said otherwise.
"Oh Hector. Do you really think I asked you to come and rest with me earlier for sleep?" She muttered.
Hector lifted his gaze to meet her suddenly in shock. Was she really saying what he thought?
In life, Hector had been given many attractive proposals by beautiful women. He had lost his virginity at a young age when he wasn't yet interested in girls ... it happened almost by accident as a maid bathed him one morning. She was no innocent; she knew what she was doing. He had a feeling that she had also introduced his brother Paris into the wonderful world of women, too. Hector was practically chased by girls as a teenager. But was in no way as prolific as Paris who left a string of broken hearts and warm beds in almost every town and port he visited – Hector did not have his brother's charm and did not find it easy to talk to women. But then again, talking was not always required to get a girl into Hectors bed ... slave girls, temple maids, the daughters and even the wives of dignitaries - all before his marriage to his beloved Andromache of course. The only reason these women wanted to share his bed was because he was a trophy, a celebrity – a prince, a general, a warrior. But this was not of interest to Sofia.
"Why would you want me?!" He exclaimed, eyebrows raised.
Sofia smiled to herself at his humility.
"Yes, I guess you haven't always been the perfect gentleman! But I want you know it's not because of what you are, I do not care about your crown or your sword. I don't want to give myself to you to plicate you. I care about who you are, what is here..." said explained pointing to his forehead, meaning his mind "... and here..." she said point to his chest, meaning his heart.
Touched and flattered at her words, all Hector could do is lean forward and softly brush his lips against hers. It was as if he was testing the water at first, testing the chemistry between them. Sofia did not kiss back at first, tingling from the top of her head all the way down to the tip of her toes ... but then she relaxed and took his bottom lip in between hers. Chemistry.
"Wait ... Would you not rather save yourself for your future husband?" He said breathlessly, pulling away from their clinch suddenly in concern.
"Hector, it is a little too late now for those foolish dreams to be realised. In the likely event that the Greeks would have caught up with us by tomorrow, you know what will become of us ....."
"They will kill me and you will still be sent to Menelaus ..." Hector shrugged.
"But if what attracts him no longer exists? I would rather die than be used like that. My purity is the only thing I own, the only power I have over events now. I will not let him steal it from me; it is for nobody else to decide or enforce. And I choose you."Her face was earnest; she did not speak in madness.
"You believe you will die soon, don't you?"
"Hector, you can't deny that the chances of us managing to leave on a ship to Troy are very slim indeed ...."
"Yes. They are." He answered honestly. Sofia's heart sunk a little as if she didn't quite want to believe it.
"Well, let us both forget about the future for just one night, enjoy the time we have left. You know, I never thought that when this moment came in my life that I would almost have to beg the man in question!" Sofia joked, her humour as some kind of emotional protection.
"Sofia ..." he said softly reaching out again brush her hair from her face, stroking his fingers across her cheekbones and chin. She momentarily closed her eyes in pleasure at his touch "... I would like nothing more than to make love to you right now ...."
He leant forward to kiss her again but she pulled away from him at the last moment.
"Don't do this because you feel duty-bound or to comfort me. Do it because you want to ..." She whispered, frowning.
Hector smoothed his fingers over the wrinkles in her brow, and then gently took her right hand. To demonstrate, he placed it under his vest, her palm pressed against his bare chest on the left hand side, her fingers splayed across his warm skin, looking into her eyes all the while. He then lent forward again and kissed her, tenderly at first then a little more passionately. She felt his heart race as he did so, beating strongly.
"Lie down for me, Sofia ... don't be scared"
"I'm not. I trust you."
--0--
Hector lay on his side and pulled her close, her head nestled under his chin like once before. But different this time. Intimacy made everything different now. Their bare feet muddled under the sheet. He stroked her hair with one hand, his other resting on her back, caressing it with his fingers. It made her skin tingle. His collarbone had flushed a deep pink. She pulled herself away from him slightly to study his body and ran her fingers lazily across his chest and round to his back. She felt the outlines of his muscles and the raised contusions of his healing scars. His skin felt wonderfully warm. She pressed her palm against it, just like she did during their first encounter when he was near-death lying on the cell floor. It suddenly struck Sofia that life as a prisoner seemed a lifetime away now. She looked up at his face. He was watching her back, his eyes full of warmth and affection.
Sofia smiled to herself. How absurd sex was, how absurd male and female bodies are ... but how beautiful that they fitted together so perfectly.
Hectors usual frown had disappeared. Sofia reached up and intimately stroked his face with her fingertips, running her fingertips across his brow, down to his cheekbone, following the three scratches Clytemnestra had caused, down to his beard, then across to his mouth. She ran her thumb over his bottom lip. As she did so he turned his face to tenderly kiss her hand, then her wrist.
She wished this feeling would never leave her.
He bent down and gently kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose and then her lips.
"Try not to worry about tomorrow ... things are will be okay then you know"He whispered. Sofia knew this was not true but thought it was sweet that he was trying to soothe her.
"Things are okay now ..." She sighed sleepily. There was a long pause.
"No, they are not. I can't help but think I have endangered your life just being with you. If you had escaped alone, they would not bother to come after you. But just being with me ... they will punish us both if they find us"
"Don't talk of such things Hector; I am honoured to be with you. I want to be with you ..." Sofia spoke into his chest. She had no idea that he had concealed those kind of worries. He sighed to himself
"Sofia ...What ever happens, I will find you ...." It seemed a strange thing to promise, she thought as she drifted off to sleep, not being able or indeed wanting to fight it off any longer. It was the closest she had come to contentment for a long time.