The Royal House of Troy
It was indecent to enter a lady's room in the middle of the night.
The young prince had developed an unparalleled talent for that particular exercise though, and in a matter of minutes his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. Paris groped around and when his hand came upon an unlit candle on a table he lifted it and headed towards the bed a few feet away from the room's entrance.
Sitting on a corner pillow, he lit the candle and placed it on a stool nearby. He then took a few moments to study the bed's occupant- who remained asleep despite this disturbance. I praise the gods that she's a heavy sleeper, Paris mused, marveling at how the warm glow of the flame highlighted the darkness of her wavy hair. She has such long lashes too, he smiled to himself. Reaching out, he tucked an unruly strand of hair beneath her ear, wondering what scheme he would have to come up with to fend her suitors off the next day. Like ants, they are, he frowned. You'd think that they never laid eyes on a beautiful woman before. Despite the soft pressure of his fingers on her cheek, the girl did not stir and Paris finally decided to wake her. It took several taps to the shoulder, but her eyes finally opened.
Realizing she was not alone, the princess opened her mouth to scream, but Paris' hand came swiftly down and muffled her cries of alarm. Her arms came up and she tried to fend him off, but he pinned them both above her head. She began to whimper.
"Calm down Briseis, it's only me!"
Sighing with relief, she immediately gave up her struggle and he released her from his hold.
"Paris? What are you doing here at this hour? You gave me such a fright!" Briseis whispered, clutching the blanket to her bosom as if to fend of an unwanted lecher.
'I'm sorry cousin, but I had to ask you a favor."
She rubbed her eyes. "Oh Paris, I'm so sleepy. Can't this wait until tomorrow?"
"It really can't…you see, I was with Oenone just now. You know father won't approve- and can you imagine what Hector would say?"
"What would you have me do?" she yawned.
"Tell the others that I was taking a stroll with you just now- in case they ask where I was. You weren't in their presence today so they won't know you've retired early for the night."
" I really wish you wouldn't spend so much time courting Oenone…even Hector doesn't think she'd make you a good wife."
He sighed. Little Briseis was a total innocent if she actually thought that he planned to marry the shepardess. "I appreciate your concern, but I can't argue with you right now- I'll explain a little more of this tomorrow. Just promise me that you'll do as I ask. It's…complicated."
"Alright."
Paris closed his eyes. He hated getting her involved with whatever mess he was in, but somehow the cycle always repeated itself. He would have to make it up to her soon.
Bending over, he kissed her forehead and rumpled her hair. "Goodnight, dearest…and thank you."
It was amazing how untouched she was in spite of her involvement in his transgressions.
When he left, Briseis sighed, sat upright and rubbed her hands on her arms to ward of the night's chill. In a way, she was thankful for his intrusion, even if finding his shadow looming above her scared her half to death at first. She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her head on them. She had been having a nightmare- the same nightmare that had been plaguing her for weeks. Once again, Paris saved her from having to suffer through it.
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King Mynes of Lyrnessos was a congenial man, but there was something in his eyes that made Priam uncomfortable. He couldn't understand it- the man sitting across from him had a clean reputation and was one of the wealthiest affiliates of the Trojan royal family. And they had known each other for many years, profiting through mutual trade and strengthening the bonds of friendship in many a feast gathering. Still, there was something about Mynes that made his companion feel as if he were always one step ahead…as if he knew something was amiss and would disclose the secret only if it suited his purpose.
"More wine?" Priam offered, reaching out to fill his goblet.
"No thank you, I think it unhealthy to drink too much," Mynes smiled. " A ruler without his wits to aid him is susceptible to danger and I have it on best authority, what with that unfortunate event last month."
Priam winced. Last month, an unknown assailant made an unsuccessful attempt to assassinate Mynes.
"Did you catch the man who attacked you?"
"No, but my soldiers did," he laughed. " It was a peasant. A farmer I never even met before. He wished to speak with me, in fact. But you won't be hearing of him from now on."
"What did he wish to speak with you about?"
"I don't know. I didn't bother to stoop to his level and entertain him. My guards reported that he was quite mad- kept on ranting about me getting his little girl sick…" His voice turned cold.
"It must be the heat of summer," Priam said, uneasily. "The season can make men's blood boil. It can also cause hallucinations-look at that unfortunate fool, Salmoneus. Thought he was Zeus and was struck down by lightning after he tried to impersonate the god of thunder."
"Yes, I know. It's amazing how wrathful the gods are when it comes to punishment, yet for all that people still insist on provoking them," Mynes stroked his beard. "But the wretches get their dues when they forget their place, no?"
"Yes…yet you and I have always been devout worshippers of the gods, so we should have no problem in that area," Priam assured. Just then five slaves appeared, carrying platters of meat, fruit and cheese.
They dined silently for the next hour and Priam took the time to study his royal guest. Mynes was an average looking man of average height and build. Fine lines creased his forehead and the downward corners of his mouth, but his curly, shoulder length hair was still dark and free from white streaks of age.
Most families spoke well of him, but Priam always made it a point to judge others based on personal observation, not hearsay. From the many dealings he had had with this ruler, he could understand why others would find him impressive, despite an apparent ordinariness of appearance. Not to be weighed down by his regular features, Mynes carried himself with an aura of wealth and pride that many a richer king lacked. Perhaps this was part of the reason why he was so successful in his endeavors.
"I can see you've been studying me," Mynes said, breaking his reverie. He quirked an amused brow. "Have the years been treating me kindly? Come now, I must know what's on your mind."
Priam almost choked on a grape. "Forgive my preoccupation, nothing really escapes you, doesn't it? But to answer your question, yes. I have been looking at you…and wondering why a man such as yourself hasn't taken a wife yet? Even my eldest son is married."
Mynes smiled. This was the opening he had been waiting for. "Ah yes, it can't be helped but noticed that while I am not old, I am not getting any younger, either…I won't deny that marriage has been, until now, the least of my concerns."
" I only assumed that you were too busy to tie yourself down. But you must be in want of an heir."
"You will be surprised to know that begetting an heir ranks low in my list of priorities. I have many brothers and nephews to take care of that. In fact, the reason for my delay in marital courtship is because no woman has caught my fancy- since last week, that is."
Priam's brows drew together in confusion.
"I'm talking about your niece, Briseis."
"Briseis? You met her last year at my son's wedding."
"Yes, but I did not catch a good glimpse of her then. When I saw her last week I marveled at how she had grown- and when I spoke to her she was sweet and very lady like…"
Priam scratched his head. "And does she have feelings for you?'
"Of course, she doesn't know me enough to tell. But really, with your son's marriage being arranged I see no reason why she and I can't grow to like each other after we are wed- with your consent, that is."
"Well, that is true. But unlike most guardians, I am very…benevolent when it comes to the feelings of my kin. I wouldn't want her married unless she agreed to it. You don't know her, Mynes. When her parents were killed by that plague years ago she wouldn't speak to anyone for months. She was brought here to live with us, and she couldn't look anyone in the eye without bursting into tears. She stayed in her room, not eating. It was only after my younger son resorted to his usual tricks that she started to come around. Then they became close friends and her smiles returned." Priam rubbed his temples, trying hard to recall the unhappy years of his niece's life. "Nowadays she is merry. Those who look at her would not know a happier girl- but it is with Paris and only with Paris that she becomes herself."
"Even I couldn't help but take note of their closeness," Mynes said, a strange gleam in his eye. "I am sorry to hear of Briseis' misfortunes, but while her recovery is a good thing I must warn you. Do you think it prudent for young people their age to be exposed only to each other?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Forgive me, I had no right to insinuate- but since you and I are such good friends…" Mynes trailed off smoothly and studied the design on his wine goblet.
"Whatever is on your mind, speak. And I'll be the judge of it," Priam insisted, taking the bait.
Mynes took his cue.
"During my travels, I heard of an occasion where cousins were said to have fallen in love. You cannot imagine the scandal it caused the families involved- but in a way, it was no ones fault. The girl was sheltered, as Briseis is now. The boy- her first cousin, was restless and lonely. They were thrown in each other's company with no supervision and before anyone knew it- she was with child."
Priam kept a steady gaze. "Where did you hear of this?"
"When I went to visit King Silenus of Paphos. His entire household couldn't talk of anything else, so I was fed with every detail of that messy affair. But I assure you, I do not think your son and niece are involved that way," he finished slyly. "All I'm saying is that you should be careful. Anything can happen nowadays…and when people are lonely…they forget themselves."
He reached out to take a grape from the fruit platter. "Priam, it isn't right for such a girl to be cooped up in that manner, even if she is royalty. And I say this not only to advance my suit. It's simply not healthy to be with the same young man all the time. Whether the undesirable happens or not."
"…the undesirable!"
"I did not mean to use such language in your presence," Mynes patted his hand. "Once again, you must pardon me, but I cannot help myself. I am a blunt man; I've always been and always will be. I am not suggesting that you should suspect them however, only that you should have the girl…expose herself more often."
"Naturally, your concern is appreciated." Priam replied, warily. "And no…I do not suspect them. The gossip you imparted about those lovers in Paphos just unsettled me…and you are right when you say that the unthinkable can happen. I remember the scandal surrounding that unfortunate king who married his mother, of all people." He began to get agitated. "What is this world coming to!"
"There now, don't worry yourself," his wily comrade consoled. "I can't believe such a tale could affect you to that extent, but for your peace of mind I'd suggest consulting an oracle for advice. It works all the time and you know the gods wishes must be obeyed…"
"Yes, yes…of course. I'll do that and speak to Briseis in the morning, also. To convince her to go out more often." Priam summoned the serving girls in attendance and motioned for them to approach and clear their table. As they gathered the dishes, he called out to the largest girl on his right.
"Lyssandra, you waited on Briseis last night, didn't you?" he asked her.
She curtsied respectfully and bobbed her head. "Yes sire, but I had to leave lady Briseis for a while. Mistress Andromache asked me to hold Astyanax while she bathed, since the babe is more familiar with me than with the other servants. I returned as soon as I could."
"And did Briseis sleep soundly when you came to check on her?" the old king asked. "I heard she's been having nightmares recently."
"Yes, from what I could see, your highness. And prince Paris assured me that the heat of her cheeks had nothing to do with a fever."
"Paris? What has he to do with all this?"
"He visited her chamber yesterday- to make sure she was doing fine, he said. I caught him in the hallway emerging from her room. And he asked me to bring her a cold towel since she was sweaty- from another nightmare, I presumed." The lady in waiting smiled. "Prince Paris brought her a wood carving he himself made last week. It stands on her night table. To ward of unkind spirits that bring bad dreams."
"It doesn't seem to be working though," Mynes interrupted. "If her dreams still bother her, I mean. But what an affectionate gesture on his part! Almost husbandly, in fact." He raised his eyes brows meaningfully.
Priam stared morosely into space.
When the king of Lyrnessos caught the older man's expression, he laughed. "Don't think too much on it, my friend. I can only remark on your son's kindness. Most men his age are inclined to think only of themselves. I imagine his future bride as very lucky, indeed."
…but I really must be on my way, Priam. I've been gone for far too long."
King Priam did not respond.
"Priam?"
"What? Oh, sorry."
The monarch rose and headed towards the main hall of the palace with his guest in tow. As an exemplary host, he then saw to it that Mynes was given a load of provisions for his journey back to Lyrnessos. After the foreign king bade his farewells, Priam watched the royal chariot depart and leave the grounds of the Trojan castle.
He frowned into the distance, thinking. The earlier gossip had worried him, but for slightly different reasons. While marriage between relatives wasn't exactly rare in most families, his niece and son were practically siblings. But Priam's unease with regards to an affair between the two had more to do with Paris than anything else.
He loved his son, but he also knew him to be a consistent philanderer, fluttering from one woman to the next as a butterfly made its rounds among the flowers. The image of Briseis, barefoot and pregnant- accompanied by another image of a bored Paris refusing to settle down, was enough to make the old man ill.
Briseis was a clever girl, yet it could not be denied that she adored Paris. He remembered Mynes' earlier words.
They forget themselves.
-
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Thessaly
The boy entered the tent and peered around nervously. His only encounter with the king of Phtia had been that day he spied him from afar, giving his men a training session in preparation for the encounter with the Thessalonian army. The speed at which the warlord moved was remarkable; just one glimpse of him in action was enough to convince a spectator that the man had to be at least half a god. Was he related to Ares? They said he was born to end lives and from the looks of it, they were right.
Achilles lay on the mattress in the corner of the tent, accompanied by two whores given to him the night before. The boy tried to ignore the shocking display of nudity before him, and he timidly approached the sleeping threesome, careful not to make any noise.
Before he was able to tap him on the shoulder, Achilles hand shot out and grabbed the young intruder by the sleeve of his robe. The boy gasped. Did the man ever sleep? Two piercing eyes then arrested him, narrowing in the darkness. The child was instantly reminded of a large predator toying with its prey.
"I was having a dream," the warrior said, gruffly. He glanced behind him and considered his sleeping bed partners, one of whom had her arm draped over his back. "…A very good dream."
"King…King Agamemnon sent me," the boy whispered, a tremor in his voice. "He wishes for you to-"
"I'll speak to your king in the morning," Achilles muttered irritably, getting ready to doze off once more.
"…but my lord, it is morning."
Achilles froze at the news that he had overslept. In a second, he roughly flung the woman's arm off his back and stood up, ready to face the oncoming battle. "Hand me my armor," he ordered.
In a few minutes, he was fully dressed and out of the tent.
The boy finally forgot his initial shyness and fear of the man and- like all children- his curiosity won out for the meantime. "…Sir, they say your mother is an immortal goddess. They say you can't be killed," he started, watching the warlord sit astride his stallion.
Achilles was tired from having to answer such questions, but for some reason the boy didn't annoy him as much as Agamemnon and his sniveling cohorts did. "…If I couldn't be killed I wouldn't be bothering with a shield now, would I?" he replied tersely, nodding for his shield to be handed over.
"That warrior you'll be fighting," the boy continued, his eyes wide at the thought of the giant who represented Thessaly, "he's the largest man I've ever seen. I wouldn't want to fight him."
Achilles looked at the awestruck lad, amused. The child could be no more than ten summers, but even in his state of fear, he seemed to have more courage than the buffoon who had the audacity to have the leader of the Myrmidons summoned.
"That's why no one will remember your name."
-
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"WHAT ON EARTH IS TAKING HIM SO LONG!" Agamemnon spat on the ground. "Does he think this is a game?"
"Perhaps we should give Achilles a few more minutes," Nestor suggested. "The Thessalonians don't seem to mind the wait…"
"That's because they're LAUGHING at me!" the Mycenaean king snapped, gesturing to the army at the opposite side of the field. "They think I've hired a coward to fight, and that he's now fled at the sight of that big brute!"
Nestor rolled his eyes. The gods were having a field day if they were watching this.
"Oh, I CURSE the day I asked him to come with us!" Agamemnon ranted, his face growing red in anger.
"You didn't ask him, I did," Nestor pointed out. "Otherwise, you would've had Odysseus convince him, except that he was busy with other matters and couldn't join the assembly you held back then."
"…I'm sure even Ajax could've been a worthy substitute…"Agamemnon cried, ignoring his most trusted advisor, " at least HE wouldn't have embarrassed ME this way!"
"Your humiliation won't last long," Nestor said, tapping him on the shoulder, "your favorite has arrived."
The Greek army suddenly livened up and cheered. Achilles was riding towards them in a chariot, looking bored and contemptuous, as usual.
Agamemnon immediately composed himself. He wouldn't let the swaggering braggart see how his presence meant so much to the king of Mycenae!
"Perhaps we should have our war tomorrow, when you are better rested," he called out to the muscular soldier approaching the front of the line, his tone snide. Achilles gave him a cold look and continued walking forward, his sword and shield at hand. His indifference only hastened Agamemnon's rising temper.
"…IF YOU WERE MY SOLDIER I WOULD HAVE HAD YOU WHIPPED FOR YOUR INSOLENCE!"
Achilles stopped in his tracks. So, the fat bastard actually thought that he could win this war without him? After traveling hundreds of miles from Phtia and slaying many of Greece's enemies- this pitiful excuse for a king still had no idea how to address his betters. He raised a well-arched brow at an infuriated Agamemnon and looked at him with great amusement.
"Perhaps you should fight him," Achilles said smoothly, and turned around. He envisioned Agamemnon's head on the giant's spear.
Satisfying.
"Achilles," Nestor panted, approaching him. "Look at the men's faces. They're counting on you to fight the giant, Boagrius. You can end this war with a swing of your sword. Let them live and go home to their wives."
Leave it to Nestor to spoil my pleasure, Achilles mused. But the old man made more sense than anyone he knew, save for Odysseus. He turned back and eyed Agamemnon with haughty disdain.
"Imagine a king who fights his own battles," he taunted, smirking. "Wouldn't that be a sight?"
He then struck his spear into the ground and went ready for the kill.
The giant didn't know what hit him.
(To be continued…)
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Authors note: So I've finally added a scene from the movie here, but please don't expect this too often. I don't want to follow Troy script word-for-word and I already have a vague idea where this fic is headed. Also, I'd like to comment on the 'cousins' issue that was addressed…in ancient Greece, it was common for relatives to get married. As mentioned, Priam's worry has more to do with Paris' immaturity and the consequences it may bring. And don't we all know it? .
