Another chapter, and sooner than I had intended to. I have mixed feelings about this chapter, but decided to post it anyway. Especially the last part (Achilles' POV) is something I would rather have left out since it shows Achilles quite out of character, but I just had to explain Achilles' lack of action somewhere in the story and it didn't really fit into the next chapter.
3)
Helen was worried, really worried. She had tried to convince Paris the Greeks would never kill her, but in reality she was not so sure about that. Menelaus was filled with hatred, she could see it in his eyes. And the soldiers who had captured her had joked about her fate, they had said her husband had thought out many terrible punishments. She had no doubts this was true.
'Come with me darling.' His voice was sweet, which was a very bad sign.
'Of course,' she replied, smiling as if nothing was wrong at all. Helen would do everything to please her husband, just to stay alive. She could only hope Paris would come back to save her.
Paris.
She could only hope he had made it. She had heard he had escaped by jumping of the city walls, but this didn't automatically mean he was still alive. He could have hurt himself. And even if he was healthy, he still had to survive outside in the wilderness. Helen hoped he could manage that, but she wasn't sure. Paris had never struck her as a real survivor.
Menelaus took her upstairs to find them a private room, but Helen was aware of the fact he didn't know where to go. He wasn't familiar with the palace yet.
Finally he found a room that could please him. It was the bedroom of Hector and Andromache. Helen had never been here, but immediately noticed the small cradle. They had been able to hide the child of Hector and Andromache, because the baby would be killed if the Greeks discovered him. Apollo, please not let him notice it! Helen had still hope he wouldn't, her husband wasn't that intelligent.
And he didn't notice it, at least he didn't understand the meaning. Maybe because he didn't know whose room it was.
'Sit down.'
Helen thought Menelaus sounded very dangerous, so she complied. But she had to do something before he would hurt her. 'What's the matter darling?' she asked, giving him the most wonderful smile she could manage under this circumstances. Her husband was old, fat and slightly drunk. He disgusted her. She now absolutely couldn't understand why she had chosen him to be her husband.
He was about to say something, but stopped when she half lied down on the bed in a very seductive pose. She kept smiling while groaning inwardly. 'I've missed you babe,' she tried. When she saw he was listening, and watching her with much interest, she continued. 'I never really wanted to go. Paris forced me.'
'You slept with him!' he screamed, suddenly filled with rage. This was going the wrong way. She was trying to propitiate him, not to make him even more angry than he already was.
'But it never was like it was with you,' she spoke soothingly. Yeah, Paris is much sweeter, she thought. 'I missed you.' Not.
Menelaus either bought the act or was just temporarily filled with desire. He approached her and sat down next to her on the bed. He stroked her face with his right hand, while his left hand came awfully close to her thigh. 'Show me Helen,' he spoke hoarsely. 'Show me.'
Helen knew this would be a very long and unpleasant night. She could only hope she could keep him away from her as long as possible. But if she wanted to see Paris again, both of them had to survive. Oh Paris, please come back soon!
It was dark and quiet. Hector had never imagined the land of Hades would be so dark. Or that the dead could feel so much pain.
Things slowly became visible, apparently it wasn't that dark after all. He saw leather skins above him, carefully sewed together. Under his hands he felt something with a more woolen texture, while he also felt the weight of something covering him. Hector realized he was in a tent, in something like a bed. It was weird.
And scary.
Suddenly he was blinded by sunlight. He heard footsteps approaching him, and finally stopping really close. Someone just came in.
'I know you're awake,' someone spoke. Hector recognized the voice, but he couldn't place it yet. 'So open your eyes.'
Hector did as told. He saw a silhouette knelt down beside him. The silhouette became more recognizable; the man was muscular, wearing body armor and had long blonde hairs. Suddenly it hit him.
Achilles!
'Ah, you recognize me now, don't you?'
Hector sure recognized him. The other man had been the last he had seen before….. Before what? It seemed he had not died. He was in a tent, probably owned by Achilles, and he felt pain almost everywhere in his body. But why would Achilles bother to take him to his tent? Why wasn't he dead?
Hector had so many questions he didn't know where to start. And when he tried to speak, he found out he couldn't.
The Greek warrior reached beside him, and then slowly lifted Hector's head with his other hand. 'Drink,' he offered, placing a bowl before his mouth. Hector wanted to refuse the man's help, but found out he couldn't. He was completely helpless, which scared him. His life, his fate, his dignity; it was all in the hands of the ruthless enemy in front of him. Achilles could do anything he wanted to do with him; Hector could do nothing back, not even something futile as spitting.
It was humiliating, but Hector swallowed his pride and drank. The water was cool and refreshing. Hector hadn't realized how dry and sore his throat really was until the water washed the sand away and soothed the pain.
Hector tried to establish what had happened. He remembered fighting the mighty Greek until they had been separated by other fighters. Then there had been pain, and then the world had turned black. He had never seen anyone who had wounded him, so he must have been attacked from behind.
Suddenly Hector wondered how the battle had ended. Had they won or lost? Was Troy still standing?
Achilles probably knew. But would he tell him? Achilles didn't have to, he was the one in charge. Although he had rather ignored his capturer, Hector knew he had no choice but to ask. 'We…' Speaking this single word seemed to drain all his power from his body and made it feel like his whole body fell apart. But he had to know, and nothing to loose. 'We…..lost?'
Achilles looked down at him, almost sympathetic. 'Yes, you lost.' He paused to take a gulp of what Hector assumed to be whine. 'And Troy fell.'
What! But that couldn't be! The high and strong walls couldn't be taken!
His confusion must have been clearly visible, because Achilles laughed. 'You don't get it, do you?' He took another drink before continuing. 'Odysseus knew about the tunnel.'
Hector understood now. The battle had been a diversion. While Hector and his men had fought the main army outside the walls of Troy, Odysseus had taken a smaller troop through the tunnel to take the city itself. And because most men where outside the city, the Trojans hadn't stood a chance.
But if Agamemnon had taken Troy, it meant…. 'Andromache.'
It had been an almost pleading whisper, but Hector didn't care. Only moments ago, Hector had cared about his honor, his life and his dignity. But if Andromache was dead, they should kill him too.
Achilles again seemed sympathetic. 'I can't tell you she's alright because she is Agamemnon's slave, but she's alive.'
Hector was relieved and worried at the same time. He was glad his wife was alive, but the thought she was a slave……. It was just unbearable.
His thoughts went out to his wife, and his son. Astyanax! The Greeks would never allow an heir of Troy to live. They would kill him.
'Astyanax.' Hector only realized he had said it out loud when Achilles looked at him with interest. He immediately realized his mistake.
'You have a son?'
Hector was silent, hoping Achilles would think he had imagined it if he didn't' say it again. Hector was swung between fear and hope. Hope because Achilles hadn't known about Astyanax, which could mean his son was still alive because the Greeks hadn't known. But fear because if his son was still alive, Achilles would make sure he would die soon.
How could he have been this stupid?
Achilles wondered how it could be no Greek had known about Hector's son. The Trojans definitely had been successful at hiding him.
Achilles looked down at his prisoner. Prince Hector appeared to be desperate. He had given Achilles information that could be the death of his son. It was evident the Prince loved his family very deeply.
'Don't worry,' he told Hector. 'I won't tell them.'
Hector clearly didn't believe him, although Achilles thought he saw a spark of hope in his eyes. He could understand this, Achilles didn't even know why he had done this promise himself. True, Achilles didn't feel any loyalty towards the Greek kings, but he also had no obligations to the Trojans. Still, Achilles felt he was doing the right thing.
