Lord Isidore was not a man who appreciated the challenge of complications, especially when said complications threatened something that he'd been dreaming about for years. His position in the palace allowed him to watch Paris grow up into the gorgeous creature that he was now and he'd come to greatly anticipate the night that he would finally relieve the prince of his virginity. Fantasies about Paris pinned naked beneath him, screaming for mercy while he showed none came to mind every hour of the day. When the king told him that the time would come sooner than expected, Isidore had been overjoyed enough to give the whore who'd been with him a very thorough refresher course on how to please a powerful man. Soon he would be able to finally act out all of his desires on the object of his twisted lust.

But now complications had arisen in the form of one man: Achilles. Priam had shared with Isidore all of his suspicions about things that could have transpired between the Greek and Paris, as well as his threat about what would happen if the suspicions should be proven true, but the lord had privately dismissed them. After all, the king made it no secret that he would be suspicious of any man that came into contact with the boy; not to mention that years of Isidore touching him, giving him looks that flaunted his desires, had made Paris skittish about anything remotely concerning sex. He'd been quite secure in that belief until last night.

The sight of Paris and Achilles kissing in the garden had been...unsettling. The warrior had shown a gentleness and respect that Lord Isidore had spent years conditioning Paris not to expect or feel like he deserved. Savage though he was, Achilles seemed to be using an alternative method to get between the boy's legs; one that was working quite well, judging by Paris' response. Even the threat of being ravaged by a room full of Greeks hadn't been enough to discourage him. At this rate, Paris would be surrendering his virginity to Achilles before the lord had the chance to take it for himself. The whole situation was intolerable!

Yes, Achilles had to be eliminated. Fortunately, men like Achilles were relatively easy to dispose of if you knew how to do it right. Lord Isidore had a plan, and he was going to "accidentally run into" a vital pawn right now.

"Lord Isidore!" cried a startled Lucius as the two collided. The young nobleman and soldier hastily picked up scrolls he'd been carrying. "Please forgive my clumsiness."

"It was entirely my fault," Isidore told him, feigning a state of upset preoccupation. "I was just so distracted. What he said about Prince Hector –"

"Prince Hector?" interrupted Lucius, right on cue. How the lord loved it when people were so predictable! "Did someone dare speak ill of Troy's crown prince?"

Isidore grabbed his arm firmly. "Are you truly loyal to our beloved prince, Lucius?" he asked, extremely proud of himself for not retching. Hector – much too kind, weak, and attached to Paris, as far as he was concerned – was another potential complication for his plans and someone he regarded with a lot of contempt.

"Yes, my lord," responded Lucius fiercely. "I serve under his command and am as loyal and true as my father, who sits on the king's council."

This was almost too easy. "Then please allow me to share the words that froze my heart." Isidore took a deep breath for dramatic emphasis and continued: "I overheard that Greek, Achilles, brag to his men how he was going to lull King Priam into a false sense of security by agreeing to a treaty. He vowed that the city of Troy would be plundered and leveled before he set sail for his homeland."

"Outrageous!" gasped Lucius, completely scandalized. "Has the man no honor?"

"It only gets worse," confided the lord gravely, barely able to swallow a chuckle. "When one of those barbarian Myrmidons asked how he could do that with Prince Hector fighting for Troy, he merely scoffed and said that he would scatter the bones of 'that whoreson' up and down the beach."

"It is damnable!" raged Lucius. "He won't get away with it. I'll keep him in check and foil any actions he may take. That way, Prince Hector can teach him exactly who the whoreson is when he returns. How dare that brute impugn the prince's honor in such a low manner?"

'Damn!' Lord Isidore thought he'd had him right where he wanted him. "That is certainly –"he said a little too quietly as he plotted out his next words. How could he inflame this naïve soldier without sounding too obvious about his intentions?

"Good morning, Prince Paris!" called out Lucius as the boy passed by, not hearing the lord's words.

"Good morning Lucius," said Paris, smiling warmly. The warmth left his expression and voice as he turned to the young noble's companion. "And to you as well, Lord Isidore."

"Prince Paris," acknowledged Isidore with a nod. Paris inclined his head to the both of them and continued on his way.

"Did you see that? He seems so much more joyful than usual," Lucius observed, sounding genuinely happy to see the younger prince in a good mood. It still amazed Isidore that most of the people of Troy actually liked Paris. How they couldn't see what a little whore he was destined to be was beyond him. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if Priam had a difficult time controlling the outrage when Paris became publicly became a prostitute by trade. Oh well; it wasn't his concern...

An evil thought popped into Isidore's mind and it took all of his restraint not to grin from ear to ear. "He would not be so if he know what Achilles said," he informed his duped pawn. "For that animal boasted that Hector was so weak that the prince wouldn't be able to stop him from ravaging Paris right in front of him. He said," added the lord, really glad that his robes were large enough to hide his arousal as his own fantasies danced around his mind. "No, he bragged that he would allow his men to use poor Prince Paris to sate their lusts after he was done with him just to 'put the whoreson in his place.' After that, he plans on taking our youngest prince back to Greece to be his pleasure slave."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The banquet hall was once again filled with talking, laughter, and activity as the royal family, Troy's noblemen, and the visiting Greeks waited for the first course of the meal to be served. Achilles' cousin, Patroclus, smirked as he watched the mighty warrior study Paris' every move. "So the powerful Achilles has fallen?" he asked innocently.

Achilles spared him a glance and a raised eyebrow. "What are you talking about, cousin?" he asked. "Do I look like I've fallen?"

"In love," teased Patroclus. "It seems to me that the prince of Troy has your heart." He saw Paris peek over at Achilles with the same gooey look in his eyes. "And perhaps you have his?"

The response died on Achilles' lips as the ornate doors of the room burst open and a Trojan warrior stormed in, fury brimming below his obviously noble surface. "Lucius!" exclaimed King Priam. "What do you think you're doing?"

"My apologies, King Priam, for my abrupt entrance," said Lucius, trying to remain as formal and civilized as possible. "I come here with the intent to uphold our prince's honor."

"Speak your peace then," ordered Priam, most annoyed at the intrusion.

Lucius wanted to tell them everything that he believed Achilles had said but forced himself to hold his tongue. Lord Isidore had urged him to keep it a secret for as long as he could. If the Greeks knew that they were aware of their treacherous plans, he reasoned, they would attack right away, before Troy had the chance to sufficiently prepare for such fight. Though it went against everything in his nature, Lucius knew that right now he had to bend the truth. "There is one among the Greeks that claims the title of the greatest warrior alive," he said, his voice perfectly even.

Achilles slowly rose to his feet. "That title is bestowed upon me," he declared. "And it was rightly earned. What of it?"

"Only because you have yet to meet Prince Hector on the battlefield," replied Lucius haughtily. "It is a dishonor to him to let you assert that title without a challenge. In his absence, I challenge you to fight."

A collective gasp ran around the room. Achilles glanced at Paris, who stared back with an expression of confusion and his eyes wide with alarm. The boy shook his head ever so slightly, silently begging Achilles not to do anything rash. "What could have possibly entered your mind," the Greek asked, "for you to make such a suicidal request?"

Lucius' blood boiled as he observed the brute look at Troy's youngest prince, who was so obviously afraid of him. "Only the pride, honor, and rightful glory of Troy's crown prince," he shot back before lowering his voice to a venomous whisper that only Achilles could hear: "And the plan to ravage Prince Paris." There! Let the Greek know that he knew!

Achilles saw red as his fury grew to substantial proportions. Had the stupid young man just threaten to rape Paris?! He was too far-gone mentally to realize how unlikely it was that a Trojan would taunt him with that. All he could think about was how the only way he could protect his love was by tearing the soldier in front of him apart with his bare hands.

He took a step forward but was stopped by both Paris' fearful gasp and Patroclus' hand on his arm. No, he wouldn't do it in here; he'd destroy this mockery of a man in front of the entire city. "I accept your challenge," he growled through gritted teeth.

"It is agreed then," interjected Priam, eager to take control of the situation. "The challenge will take place tomorrow morning. To the winner will go all the glory as well as a prize of his own choosing, as is the custom of Troy. Now let us all be seated so that the feast can begin."

"My, my, my," clucked Isidore, seated beside Paris as usual. "I wonder what that was all about."

"A challenge was not unexpected," answered Paris as lightly as he could manage, given that his stomach was tied in knots. "The Lord Achilles has a coveted title and the soldiers of Troy are always mindful of Hector's glory."

"I suppose," the lord said with an exaggerated sigh. "It is a shame, though, that Lucius will die trying to add to that glory."

"I'm sure that neither warrior will break the rules like that."

"Are you now?" he purred. "I think that the Greek barbarian will be to focused on his chosen prize to pay too much attention to any pleas of defeat that Lucius says, let alone our rules of engagement. How could he not be? After all, it is most obvious that he'll ask for a night with you."

Paris refused to quail under the man's taunts. "And why would he ask for something like that?" he asked with false detachment.

"Because deep down Achilles is very much like me," tormented the vile lord. "Yes, I believe we're both the sort of men who can't be satisfied with just innocent kisses in gardens."

He smiled at the sharp intake of breath. "Of course I know," he sneered. "Don't worry your pretty little head, though; I won't tell the king. He would just toss you to those savages without a thought to the promises he made to me. Your virginity is mine, of course, and I intend to see that you remain as pure as possible until I can claim it."

"You have no claim to anything," hissed Paris, letting all of his hatred for the lord to fill his voice.

"You are feisty this evening, aren't you?" Isidore chuckled. His gaze turned to Achilles. "You might as well stare at him all you want tonight, you brazen slut. You know the laws of our land and that brute's temperament. He'll kill Lucius tomorrow, and you know that his punishment will be death."

To be continued...