6)

Achilles watched the utterly confused Briseis looking back and fro between himself and her cousin Hector. Achilles sensed she really wanted to go check on Hector, but didn't do this yet because she wasn't sure what his reaction would be. He recognized this behavior, he had seen it many times before.

She was afraid of him.

'Is he still alive?' he asked negligent, while taking off his mantle. He didn't even look in their direction to make her believe he really didn't care, but continued to take off the few parts of his heavy shining body armor he had been wearing to the feast. He also loosened the leather straps which kept the silver sword to his body, and carefully placed the mighty weapon next to the animal skins he would rest on during the night. Achilles pretended to be completely focused on this task, but the truth was he could do this blindly. He was listening to her movements; how she knelt down next to her cousin and carefully removed the covers. He heard her remove the dressings from Hector's wounds, which made the Trojan groan softly in his sleep, and he heard her replace them with care.

'The bandages need to be changed,' Briseis said. She had sounded accusingly, as if it was his job to nurse his enemy. This was unheard of!

He slowly turned around, determined to show this girl her rightful place. 'Than change them!' he snapped.

First she stood frozen, staring at him, confused and startled by his snarl. Then she came forward, walked past him without even looking in his direction, took a small bowl and filled it with water from the large bowl. She placed it beside Hector and looked for material which she could use for his bandage, which she quickly found at her cousin's feet. During all this she refused to even look at Achilles.

She refused to show fear.

Achilles thought it was almost amusing, since it was evident she really was afraid. Her muscles were tensed and her hands were shaking. But her unwillingness to show her fear was a sign she was still strong-minded, the exact trait that had attracted him so much.

Achilles only realized how tired he was when he sat down; he almost collapsed at the spot. He should have seen this coming; what could he expect after a day full of battle and a feast afterwards?

'What do you want from him?'

Her question had come out of the blue. He shrugged. 'There is no need for you to know.'

She stood up and faced him. 'You don't even know it yourself, do you?'

She had hit the nail on the head. And he admired and hated her for it at the same time.

Andromache looked at Agamemnon for what had to be the hundredth time. He was asleep, the Gods were praised, but she didn't dare to leave. What if he would wake up and would see her at the door? As far as Andromache knew, he could kill her.

Agamemnon had demanded a foot massage, which she had given him in the hope this was the only thing he would ask for tonight. Her luck had been the tremendous amount of red whine the king had drunk; when his head had hit the pillow he had fallen asleep almost instantly. Andromache prayed to Apollo the Mycenaean king wouldn't wake up until the morning, or even better, that he would not wake up ever again. But the latter probably wouldn't happen, so she would already be delighted when just the first wish would come true.

When Andromache was finally absolutely certain he wouldn't wake up anymore, she silently got up from her rather uncomfortable position at his feet and threaded to the window. They were in the room of Priam, Agamemnon had insisted she would take him to the royal bedroom, which had a view of the beach and the ocean on the right and of Troy and the hills at the left. But she wasn't fully alive to this beautiful view right now, but looked at the stars and prayed to the mighty Gods. She prayed for Hector and Astyanax; who were her life. She also prayed for Briseis and Helen, the women who were in the same horrible position as she was. And she prayed for the soul of Priam, who had accepted her as his daughter and had died for his city. Andromache hoped the Gods would at least listen to one of her prayers, to show they hadn't cursed the Trojans completely. The people of Troy had always honored Apollo and the other Gods, so Andromache was convinced they would make something right.

And then, a star fell from the sky…

'Look!'

Paris looked at the sky like the rest of the men. He followed the bright star's path down to earth.

'It is a sign from the Gods!' one of the Trojans exclaimed happily. 'Zeus and Apollo haven't left us yet!'

Like most men, Paris also believed it was a sign. But meant for who; the Greeks or the Trojans? And what did it mean?

'What do you think?' the man next to him asked. His name was Aeneas, and according to many other soldiers here Aeneas was one of the best Trojan warriors, the best after Hector. He was also the leader when Paris came here.

'It is probably a sign,' Paris told him. 'But meant for who?'

'For who else then us?' Aeneas questioned. 'The Greeks don't need signs or extra help from the Gods.' He rose up from his seat, thereby getting everyone's attention. 'I think we shall prepare for battle! The Gods favor us now!'

Everyone agreed. Paris decided not to go against the majority vote. If the men thought the Gods were with them, and hopefully the Gods really were with the Trojans, they would be able to win. 'Let's prepare!'

Briseis was woken up by the small beam of sunlight in her face. A new day was born. A new day as a slave. A new day without Troy.

Briseis slowly turned around to check on her cousin. His breathing was even, he was sound asleep just like he had been when she had fallen asleep, but he was still very pale. She was still very worried about his condition, but she believed he would live. Hector was a strong man, a real survivor.

She decided not to remove the bandages again, but to let him rest and gain strength. She kissed him on the forehead before slowly getting up. She watched Achilles, who was still sleeping despite the fact the sunlight already hit his face. She slowly, very slowly, sneaked past him to go outside. But she was stopped by the sight of his sword. It was positioned close to Achilles' right hand, he could grab it as soon as someone entered the tent, but he wasn't touching it. This meant she could take it, and…

And could kill him.

The thought scared her, killing was against her nature. But he had killed many Trojans, without punishment. He had taken Hector, her noble cousin, wounded him and brought him to his tent as a trophy. And he had taken her freedom. And if he lived, many more would die.

He shouldn't live.

He had to die.

Without hesitation she walked to him and took the sword. The weapon was heavy, heavier than she had imagined. She had to take the bronze sword with silver decoration in both hands to handle it. She stood over him and raised it, ready to plunge the metal into his chest.

'Do it.'

Briseis almost dropped the sword, startled as she was by his words. He had been asleep! Well, apparently she had been wrong about that. He now looked up at her with his bright blue eyes, not making one single movement. Why wasn't he trying to disarm her? Why wasn't he frightened?

'Aren't you afraid?'

He simply smiled, and gently took the sword from her hands. Then he pulled her down onto his lap, provoking a soft scream from her lips. His hands cupped her face, making her feel vulnerable. 'You are far more frightened by this situation than I am.'

How true! Briseis looked him in the eyes, which were only a few inches away from hers. He didn't avoid her look, but gazed back without hesitation. She was drawn into his eyes, and instantly knew she was lost.