An Unlikely Union
Quick Comment: The plot thickens!!! This is the penultimate chapter, I will be really sad to finish this fic but I do have another Hector centred fic in the pipelines - not that I'm obsessed with him or anything ... ;o) (yeah right!)
Please continue with the reviews ... I seem to be getting less since I came back from holiday (boo! :o( ) I hope this doesn't mean less people are reading it!
Again, not that much time to check this one but I hope it reads okay ....
Donna Lynn: Yes, I actually did write the love scene but sensored it in the end as I did not want to get into trouble or offend anyone. Maybe I'll put it back in and send it to you for your eyes only!
Rachael: Let me know what you think and if you eagle eyes spot any mistakes! I'm counting on you, my kind of proof reader!
9. Stolen Away
"Sofia ...."
She opened her eyes suddenly, rudely awoken from her sound slumber. For a moment she couldn't quite distinguish between dream and reality, work out where she was or what woke her.
"Sorry, I did not mean to awake you with such a shock ....."
Cushioned on a soft pillow, Sofia turned her head to the side, bleary eyed to see where the voice was coming from. Hector was kneeling at the side of the bed, his elbows on the sheet, denting the downy mattress with his forearms horizontal against it. His chin was resting on his flattened hands, watching her. His face was close, adjacent to hers. A contended smile slowly spread across Sofia's face as delightful memories of last night came flooding back .... She had almost completely forgotten why they were there, the urgency of their situation or indeed the horrible circumstances in which she had met Hector. She stretched all her limbs like a cat and rubbed her eyes languidly with her fists, screwing up her eyes and wrinkling her nose to clear her misty view. Whilst her eyes were closed, she felt that Hector had put out his hand, lightly stroking her hair from her face, his palm lingering on the top of her head.
"Why did you not wake me earlier?" She asked in a croaky voice.
"You looked so beautiful and peaceful; I did not have the heart to wake you." He smiled, bending down to kiss her nose.
"And you look different ...." She observed as her eyes focused on him.
She couldn't put her finger on why but he did not look so stern somehow. She put her hand out and stroked his face, cupping her hand affectionately between his chin and cheekbone.
"I feel different!" He exclaimed, taking her hand from his face and holding it in his.
"Where have you been?" She asked sleepily confused.
She could see he had been up and about for a little while, although it was still early morning - the space in the bed next to her was cold and Hector was fully clothed, whereas Sofia was still completely naked under the thin sheet. The sun had only just risen; the air was cool, the sky a pale blue and the moon only just fading.
"To the harbour .... I struck a deal with a ship owner there, no questions asked. It's a small vessel, questionable whether we'll get to Troy without it being swept to pieces but at least it's something ...."
His revelation woke her properly; she sat up in the bed and sheet clutched to her chest, incredulous. It seemed almost impossible that they would really flee Greek shores but now escape was a tantalising, real possibility.
"You bought a boat? With what? We have nothing to trade!"
Hector lifted his head from where it rested on his hands:
"A ship...." He corrected. "... a small one. That dagger - it seems Achilles didn't just leave it for us as a weapon. It's covered in precious rubies and inlaid with gold. We could probably buy this whole boarding house and the building next door with it!"
"The dagger?! I bet the owner wouldn't have touched it he knew it had taken the life of a Greek soldier ... or that the Prince of Troy had skinned rabbits with it ...." Sofia exclaimed, eyes wide remembering how it felt to push the dagger into a man's flesh and picturing Hector skinning the bloody rabbit carcasses as if he was using nothing more than a worthless piece of tin.
"If you could have seen the way his eyes lit up with sheer greed at the sight of it ... well, put it this way, I'm sure he would have traded his own wife for it." Hector shrugged
He stood up and stretched his hands behind his head, elbows sticking outwards from his ears , you need to dress now. Let us leave this place. Let us finally go home. The ship awaits us."
Sofia's heart jumped into her throat in anticipation at Hectors words. Home. Was it really true that they were leaving? She wouldn't quite believe it until she had watched with her own eyes the Greek shores disappear from sight behind the horizon, surrounded with miles and miles of glittering blue sea.
"Have you ever sailed before?" Hector asked breezily. He too was obviously elated at the prospect of setting foot on Trojan soil once again.
Sophie peeled the corner of the sheet back and manoeuvred her legs out of bed, standing and searching for her robe that had been carelessly discarded onto the floor the night before. Hector watched her, his eyes pouring appreciatively over the sight of her nakedness. He held the robe in one hand, mischievously hiding it behind his back so he had a few extra moments to admire her body. Sofia's eyes examined the floor as she stood there. They darted up to Hectors hand and spotted her robe peeping out from behind him. She raised her eyebrows at him, mocking distaste and held out her hand; silently requesting it as if he were a naughty child ... but her mouth could not suppress a little smile. He finally, hesitantly handed it to her and she answered his question as she put the robe over her head, her voice slightly muffled by the material.
"No. Not really. Unless you count when they bought me here or the time I used the ferry-crossing over the Scamander...." She said finally finding the hole for her head and pulling the robe over.
"Well I hope you do have natural seafaring legs ... it will take us a few days to get to Troy in that little ship ...." Hector said, drawing himself to Sofia, his arm around her hips, pulling her close.
A warm rush spread from her stomach out to her toes, head, and fingers. She loved to be close to him. She smiled, looking up at him and wrapping her arms tightly around his thick waist, feeling his stomach move in and out as he breathed.
"I'm sure I will be fine. Stuck in a little ship with you can't be all that bad, not now anyway ....."
Hector bent down to kiss her in response, his beard tickling his chin, his mouth gently pressed against hers, his lips parting her own. Sofia adored the way he tasted.
An explosion of noise; the door literally burst open, people spilling into the room.
Sofia and Hector broke away from their clinch suddenly in shock. Chaos.
What was happening?
Everything followed in slow motion again as if the gods had decided once more to toy with the sands of time and implicate Sofia and Hector in on their games. Panic throbbed in every muscle of Sofia's body, her brain frozen. Hector grabbed her by the shoulders to get her attention and she looked into his face, searching for reassurance.
"RUN!" He was shouting at her, his face full of alarm – an expression she had never seen on him. This made her panic even greater.
"Hector!" She yelled. She didn't want to leave him. She didn't move, anchored to the spot in fear
"Run Sofia, run as fast as you can!" He pleaded, eyes were wide with distress.
Two men violently grabbed hold of his arms, knocking him back but he was far too concerned about Sofia at that moment to even attempt to resist them.
Greek soldiers. At least seven of them filled the room.
Sofia turned and tried to make for the door, her ears tuned into the commotion that was going on behind her as Hector tried in vain to fight the soldiers off with his fists.
She could hear another two of them talk amongst themselves as they stalked around the room
"Catch her!"
"Look ..." one exclaimed, examining the bed sheets and seeing a tell-tale patch of watery blood "She has ruined herself with the prince!"
"The slut will be no good for Menelaus now ... take her away!" said another.
Her legs like jelly, she tried to weave in between them and get to the door. But she was stopped dead in her path by a large man standing astride the doorway and in the confusion she crashed straight into him, her nose pressed up against the smooth bronze breastplate. He placed his large hands on her shoulders to halt her, to steady her and then to capture her, grasping her so hard she could feel his fingers touch her bones. She closed her eyes and struggled wildly, somehow finding strength through her sheer terror. She twisted in the man's grip violently, her eyes snapping open. She could see Hector, still tussling with what were now four soldiers. They crowded round him, almost obscuring her view.
"Hector!" She screamed again.
He stopped fighting with the soldiers for a moment and looked over to her direction in concern as he heard her frightened voice. In the split second that he had stopped struggling, a soldier saw his chance and laid a punch straight into Hectors stomach, so hard it knocked the wind out of him completely. Strangely, the soldiers seemed to drop away from him after the blow, freeing his arms and standing back. Hector looked from them to Sofia who was suddenly stone still within the man's grasp, as white as a ghost and staring at his stomach in horror. He followed her gaze slowly down.
Blood gushed rapidly out of a small but deep wound in the stomach. His stomach.
He simply couldn't feel any pain, full of adrenaline and shock. In a trance he slowly reached over and touched the wound with his hand, feeling the sensation of his own blood on his fingertips. Dark red. Hot. His gaze followed the stream of blood onto the floor; it soaked his vest and was forming a large puddle on the floor.
The world slowed.
Noises became faint.
He could see Sofia was yelling but to him it was as if she was mouthing his name. She struggled manically in the man's hands, trying to break free and come to his aid. But the man that had captured her simply picked her up, tucked her under one arm with ease as if she were a stray goat and carried her out of the room, her legs kicking fiercely, her fists pounding into him, her face puffy and red from crying.
Coldness grew around Hector.
His eyelids were heavy.
His legs buckled.
--0--
Sofia was in pain, her head hurt. It pounded like an animal-hide drum. She was almost too frightened to open her eyes; she did not want to know where she was or who had taken her there. In fact, she did not want to open her eyes ever again. An immense feeling of hopelessness spread over her being, engulfing any sense of faith she once had. There was now no point in survival, in existence. Everything was lost; the Greeks had managed to destroy everything and everyone she had cared about. She now began to understand how Hector must have felt when he had lost his wife. Sofia had now lost Hector and the ache in her heart was unbearable.
She opened her eyes. She was sat on a pile of cushions in a corner of a large tent. She was tied to a post, sitting upright, her arms bound behind her back. She didn't know why they felt the need to restrain her - she did not have the energy or inclination to try to escape. They could do what they wanted with her now; she just hoped that they did not prolong her miserable life any longer. As her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, she looked around trying to get an idea of her surroundings – quite opulent considering it was only a temporary lodging. The draped material was a rich dark red, embroidered with gold thread in places. In one corner sat a shiny bronze bowl on a pedestal full of steaming hot, clean water for bathing. Near the centre of the room lay a low wooden table; a platter of succulent looking fruit, fresh bread and a pitcher of rich wine sat on it. In another corner stood an imposing looking wooden dummy, imposing as it was covered in fine armour. Before her eyes grew properly used to the light, she momentarily thought it was a person standing there. Her eyes stinging, she began to recognise that smooth breastplate and the large shin guards, she had seen them before. Achilles.
He was lounging on a bed by the table, propped on one forearm; one knee raised and was sipping from a goblet of wine, watching her closely. His shoulder length blond hair was tied loosely at nape of his neck.
"I had to knock you unconscious – you were so hysterical I could not do a thing with you." He said sternly, watching her as if she was some bizarre animal, taking another sip.
Sofia could feel the bump on her forehead start to throb and a wave of sheer, unadulterated hate washed across her as she disrespectfully stared at him back. She could feel reluctant tears start to stream from her eyes, stinging her face.
"You killed him!" She spat.
Achilles rolled his eyes tiresomely:
"The knife that dealt the blow was not in possession was it? I was too busy holding some worthless writhing wretch." He answered arrogantly, meaning Sofia.
This riled Sofia even more:
"It was all a ruse, wasn't it? Your plan. You led the soldiers to us, didn't you?!" She yelled.
Achilles laughed, apparently amused by her rage.
"Think what you will, it is really inconsequential to me what you feel....but I was actually trying to stop them. I went with them to throw them of your scent. But it was an impossible task; it seems your arrival in the village did not go unnoticed. The fisherman's wives to the beggars on the streets knew of the strange, scruffy couple staying at the boarding house."
"You are a liar ... why would you want to help Hector, there is no plausible reason. I have never trusted you!" Sofia exclaimed, full of resentment.
"I do not need to explain myself to you, silly girl! Are you deaf, did you not hear the conversation that took place between myself and the Prince in that disgusting cell? You were there!" He began to lose his patience, sitting up straight and draining the bottom of the goblet.
"To irritate Agamemnon? Why don't you just steal his favourite horse or sleep with his wife? You seem to have to morals of a demon anyway". She said, knowing that it would provoke him.
He tried hard not react to her, he did not wish to condescend. He sighed wearily and bought his hand up, vainly studying his fingernails.
"The horse is a nag and I have already been entertained by Clytemnestra. She lays there like a sack of grain, I should think that Agamemnon would be relieved that someone takes her off his hands for the evening." He answered coolly, with a shrug
"You truly are an abominable man ...." Sofia hissed, disgusted at his arrogant attitude.
He stood and placed the empty goblet on the table, then walked over to his helpless prisoner, towering over her superiorly. He crossed his massive arms defensively over his bare chest.
"Keep that mouth in check girl or I will knock you out again." He said menacingly.
Grief seemed to cancel out all the fear Sofia possibly could feel: She knelt up defiantly, trying to show that she was not scared of him,
"Please do – if it means I have any respite from you". She glared at him, unmoved.
Achilles laughed again insultingly, his arms still crossed, his chest shaking in mirth and his head thrown back.
"You really are a fearless little thing aren't you? I can see why Hector wanted you for his bed; I bet you are quite uninhibited. A slut and a virgin, what a prize." He taunted, an eyebrow raised.
Sofia exploded in rage, and struggled violently in her tether, wanting her hands to be free so she could beat him with them or shake him by the neck. Achilles watched her writhe on the floor, her face boiling, tears flowing. The rope began to burn into her wrists:
"You cruel bastard! I do not care what you say about me but do not drag Hectors name about in the mud; he is a better man than you will ever be!"
"Was..." Achilles corrected "Enough. This conversation is boring me now." He dismissed, turning his back and walking away, sitting slowly back down on the bed.
As her rage subsided, Sofia began to sob pitifully. Everything seemed so futile now. She could not stop the memories flooding back to her; Hectors last beautiful kiss, how happy she had been ... the blank look on his face when he realised he had been stabbed and the sound of his blood dripping on the floor. She couldn't stop herself imagining what had happened to his body, probably denied of proper funeral rites, a mutilated trophy. The thoughts tortuously buzzed round her head like a cloud of angry wasps.
Achilles seemed to soften in pity at the snivelling wretch that sat miserably before him. Or perhaps her sobbing simply irritated him.
"Here have some wine ... it will calm you down" He said, reaching for the pitcher and a spare goblet. He poured the wine carefully and approached her with the goblet in his steady hand and stood over her again, offering it out. She looked up at him incredulous through her tears.
"And how do you suppose I drink it? My hands are tied, remember." She spat bitterly.
"You won't try to escape or attack if I untie you" He raised his eyebrows inquisitively.
Sofia found this to be a ridiculous question:
"I am not that stupid. If I do escape, I have nowhere to go. And why would I try to attack you, you are more than twice the size of me!"
Achilles considered this for a moment and thought it to be a fair point. He crouched and reached round to untie her. Her wrist loose, she rubbed them rhythmically with her fingers, glaring at Achilles in loathing. The rope had left an angry-looking imprint on her skin. He handed her the goblet and without thinking she raised it to her lips. Then hesitated before she took any of the liquid into her mouth.
"It's not drugged or poisoned. You saw me drink some yourself." He offered, still crouching next to her.
Grudgingly, she took a sip. As the liquid slowly filled her mouth, the alcohol burnt her dry cracked lips.
"Here, have some of these grapes ... you must be ravenous" Achilles had stood and was holding a bunch of juicy-looking white grapes in his hand. She hesitated again.
"Look, these are fine too ..." He demonstrated that they were not tainted by popping a couple into his own mouth then he offered them out to her.
She gratefully accepted and sat there hungrily feeding on the grapes so perfectly ripe they burst in her mouth, filling it with sweet juice. She intermittently took large sips of wine between mouthfuls of fruit. Achilles sat back on the bed, leaning forward, his forearms resting on his knees and his hands loosely clasped together as he observed her, amazed at her appetite.
Sofia paused suddenly, two grapes still clasped in her fingers ready to be transferred to her mouth.
"What are you going to do with me?" She asked, warily.
"Do not fear, you will not be harmed where I am taking you."
"Taking me?! Where?" She asked, confused by his apparent riddle.
"Somewhere safe." He answered immediately.
Sofia was still totally confused. Shocked and confused. The grapes fell into her lap and she placed the goblet onto the floor.
"Why would you do that?"
"I could not save Hector but I can save you. I think you do not realise the danger you have put yourself in fraternising with such an important man, being a consort, a lover of the Prince of Troy. If the Greeks or even the royal court of Troy discover that you were with Hector during his last days or about your close relationship they will interrogate you until you break with no regard to your wellbeing."
Sofia narrowed her eyes sheepishly at Achilles; she still did not trust him.
"There is another reason, other than Agamemnon for all this, isn't there Achilles?" She observed.
This obviously made him feel uncomfortable and he looked away from her, fidgeting his feet a little and wringing his hands.
"You like to think you are clever don't you?! But you are foolish. Did you really think that if you did manage to return to Troy with Hector he would have wanted anything to do with you, that you would be anything more than a mistress, a maid or even a distant memory. There has probably been dozens of girls like you ...." He exclaimed spitefully in self-protection.
Sofia was deeply hurt by his comments and she hung her head. Of course those thoughts had crossed her mind. The thought of Hector using her, the knowledge that she was not good enough for him, the thought of him taking many other virginities and laying with many other women. She had tried to blank them out for her own sanity.
"Of course I realise that – I was not blinded by his celebrity. Life in Troy did not once cross my mind: I thought that I would not survive for much longer, we knew the soldiers where on out tails. I lived for the moment when I spent the night with him, nothing more. He was a good man." She explained in a tiny voice. It wavered due to the lump forming in her throat.
"Did you love him?" Achilles suddenly looked straight at her as her asked matter of factly. Completely out of the blue his heartlessness seemed to disappear.
"Yes ..." She hung her head again and began to cry softy. She could see Hector so perfectly in her head. It was probably the first time she had even admitted these feeling to herself.
"I can tell. I remember that time in the cell .... You looked at him with the same affection that my Briseis once had for me ...." Achilles added thoughtfully.
"Briseis?" Sofia lifted her head to face him once more, totally intrigued. Could it really be true that this monster could feel compassion and love himself?
"... And I could see in Hectors eyes the same fondness for you ...." He continued, his face softening.
Sofia was dumbfounded by these revelations. First at this mysterious Briseis, second that that in one breath Achilles was persuading her that Hector had used her body and in the next that he really had, in fact, cared for her.
"Who ... who is Briseis?" She stuttered, almost knocking the goblet over as she moved her foot.
"She was my woman. She was slave given to me by my men, a priestess of the great temple of Apollo that lies on Troy's beach. They captured her when they sacked it. I set her free to test her love for me but she returned to her family in disgust when she discovered that I had challenged her beloved cousin to a duel. She pleaded with me not to fight him, believing that in my rage over Patroclus' death, I would show no mercy. But I had a change of heart at the crucial moment, with my blade poised to his neck. I proved her wrong. Unfortunately that ass Agamemnon ruined all that ....." He explained sadly
"Cousin?"
"Hector of course. She is the reason I spared his life. Agamemnon had his men take the Prince prisoner before I could allow him to return to the palace, before I prove my love to Briseis. Then I tried to undo it all by helping Hector escape. It was my final chance of ever seeing my love again." He added with a sad shrug.
Was he really being so honest? Or perhaps it was all just another clever ruse.
Although she was shocked and still a little untrusting of Achilles motives, suddenly everything made sense, like a giant ball of twine that had unravelled and unknotted itself. Sofia's head swam, floating like a cork in the sea as she tried to take it all in. She lifted the goblet from the floor and took a huge swig, needing to feel the divine numbness that too much wine brings. Achilles continued to watch her, noticing that she was having trouble taking it all on board.
"This mess, it's all my fault. Not the war but Hectors fate, your predicament ... I did not wish for any of it. Now I will try to put what I can right. Keeping you safe is what Hector would have wanted ...and Briseis would want whatever her cousin wished for." His body language was open, he lent back a little, and his hands stretched outward, his face honest.
Sofia could not question him any longer, still absolutely astounded. She simply sat there and blinked, feeling the alcohol in the wine start to seep into her veins.
"Sofia isn't it? Sofia you must do something for me in return. From now on, you must keep all of this a secret. Everything. You must not tell anybody of your relationship with Hector, you must deny that you have ever met him, me or Agamemnon - any of us, for your own safety - as I explained before. Trust nobody".