Lilycup: Your reviews are always a source of inspiration. I am really happy that you like my way of writing. I just hope you won't hesitate to tell me if I am writing something you don't like, lol. About Hector and Lena, well, we'll see...
Priestess of the myrmidons: Thank you for reviewing. I know I have been kinda lazy about checking the chapters properly before posting them (Paris and Priam were mixed up a couple of times in chapter 2 for example). I apologize and I promise I will try to improve.
I must also thank you for your reviews of my other story, Buried alive. It's really nice to know that you liked it, especially since you weren't too fond of the pairing Andromache/Achilles.
Chapter 4 - Prisoners
He had probably not been out of the running for a very long time, since the pain in the back of his head barely resembled more than a gloomy eco. Hector blinked, attempting to see clearly in the obscure space he had been placed in as he slowly made his way back into consciousness again.
His senses felt dull and heavy and for a moment, he couldn't remember anything. He felt something heavy over his wrists and tried to shake it off. There was a rattle and he realized that he was in irons. Two heavy cuffs joined together by a solid chain shackled his arms tightly. At least he had not been bolted to the wall; not that it mattered since he would have been unable to fight anyway in his present condition.
He slowly started to realize that he wasn't dead or dreaming. The pain in his wrists, caused by the cold metal, seemed too authentic to be unreal. He had been abducted by someone. But why? And how?
Then he suddenly heard a voice from somewhere close and it all came back to him in slow, jerky pieces. The ride, the wine, the blow against his head, the drug... He heard another voice; a soft, feminine one. The girl, he added grimly to himself.
"You hit him too hard," she said, reproaching. "You could have killed him."
A man snorted. Nikos. "Don't be a fool, I wouldn't kill him. I just wanted to make sure that he wouldn't cause us any trouble."
"I gave him the herbs like you said," she objected. "That should have been enough. There was no need to strike him."
"Spare me your female anxiousness, Lena," Nikos said dismissively. "You better go upstairs now. The others will be coming soon and I don't want you here then."
"Oh, really? You would never have been able to capture him if it wasn't for me."
"That's possible. But he is still my prisoner. Don't worry; you'll get your reward. Now be gone."
Hector heard her sighing and the sound of her feet as they ascended the stairs. Things were silent for a while and he almost fell into a dazed slumber when he suddenly heard a mass of male voices from somewhere close. There was a clatter of keys and suddenly, a ray of light hit Hector's eyes and he was able to see where he had been imprisoned. It was a small, narrow space with a low ceiling and no furniture. It smelled rotten.
Nikos was standing in the door with a few other young men who were all watching him. Nikos carried a torch in his hand and a sneer was painted over his thick face. "Behold the Crown Prince of Troy," He said loudly and the men chuckled. "King Priam's very own jewel and he shall become a jewel to us as well, I assure you."
Hector tried to raise his head. He wanted to glare at them with defiance, but the drug still held him in a firm grasp and he sank back, huddled up against the wall like a frightened child.
Nikos moved a little closer. He was unable to stand under the low ceiling and was walking slightly bent down. The torch roamed over Hector's features and its light displayed his weak, dazed state. "Tell me, my prince," Nikos said, "How much your father is prepared to give for the safe return of his favourite son and heir, do you think? A thousand gold pieces perhaps?"
Hector snorted in disbelief. "Do you think my father would impoverish his own kingdom?" he spat. "Never."
"Are you telling me that a father's love for his son is less important than gold?"
"My father is not a fool." Hector stated. "He will not sacrifice Troy for my sake."
"Really?" Nikos raised his light eyebrows. "Well, maybe we can find a way of convincing him..." He turned back to his men who were still gathered by the door and smirked. "For sure, Priam will want to see some kind of evidence that we really do hold his precious heir. So what part of his son's anatomy do you think we should send him? A lock of hair?"
"No, that's not proof enough!" one of the others objected. "Send him a royal ear instead!"
"No, a finger with that fancy ring of his still on!"
"Why not an eye?"
"I say, we should make him unable to breed any heirs on his wife!"
The gang roared with laughter. Nikos raised his arms to silence them. "It seems that we might have to discuss this a little bit closer. Besides, Alex the butcher's son isn't even here yet. He should be doing the chopping. Why don't we start warming ourselves up a little bit first..."
He grinned ominously and nodded at two of his men. Hector instinctively pulled back as they approached him, but he was unable to do much fighting since he was chained and under the influence of the drug. The two men grabbed Hector's arms and pulled him into the light.
Nikos reached out to yank the prince's tunic off. Hector clenched his teeth tightly together, humiliation burning in his soul. Another man stepped forward. Hector was unsurprised to see that he carried a whip in his hand. He pulled a deep breath and tried to steel himself.
The pain was not the worst, even though it almost blinded him when the whip hit his bare back. The worst of all was the degradation of being shackled and beaten by some worthless mercenaries like a simple convict. Hector's body, mind and soul were filled with a fury and hatred he had never experienced before.
His back was getting bloody, he could feel it. The whip dug into his flesh and tore his skin apart. Finally, he had tears in his eyes and he bit his lip so harshly that it started bleeding. But he refused to cry out. No matter what, they would not have that pleasure. He would never beg them for mercy. That would be worse than anything else.
Finally, Nikos held up his hand to stop the beater. "That will do," he said loudly. "Otherwise we won't have anything to demand a ransom for." The men let Hector go and he fell on his stomach on the cold stone floor.
Nikos smiled down at him. "Well, my prince?" he said smoothly. "Don't you think this will prove too much for your poor old father's heart? Don't you think this will make him willing to excavate the gold we want? What do you say, prince?"
"Go to Hades!" Hector hissed in a choked voice.
Nikos laughed. "Not quite yet. First I intend to live my life among the breathing people. And from now I will do so in a rather more comfortable way."
"You'll never make it," Hector said grimly. "My father's soldiers will find me."
Nikos laughed again. "Oh, the city guard you mean? Or even the brave apollonians? You forget that I have been among that lot, my lord, and I know what they are like. If you say speak, they will bark and if I say it's nothing here, they will believe me."
He smirked as he made a gesture to his men that it was time to leave. The men seemed slightly disappointed but followed the wishes of their leader. "We'll be back, my prince," Nikos said amiably as he brought the torch with him and left Hector alone in the darkness once again.
Hector panted and tried to breathe normally. Slowly and wincing with pain he managed to drag himself up to a sitting position. The wounds on his back were throbbing and burning like fire. The sticky blood covered his whole back and there was nothing he could do about it.
He was cold and managed to wrap his tunic around him again. The cloth was immediately soaked by blood, but he didn't care. He knew that he should be thinking of a way to escape, but he didn't have the power to. His head still felt numb. Shaking with cold and a fear he tried to push away, the prince huddled up in a corner. He had never felt more lonely and exposed.
He tried to think about his brother, little Briseis, his mother, his horses. Even the dreaded Princess of Thebe. He tried to think of anything that would focus his mind on something else than what he had to expect when Nikos and the others returned.
He didn't know how much time had passed when the door was opened again. The visitor moved almost soundlessly and for a moment Hector wondered if they had decided to assassinate him after all. Then he recognized Lena and momentarily relaxed. He reproached himself. "She may not be as big or as strong as the others, but she has proved herself an opponent more dangerous than anyone else."
Lena placed her torch in a holder and turned to face him. Unlike Nikos, she could easily stand straight in the narrow space. Her face was pale and she looked uncomfortable. "My lord," she said nervously. "How are you feeling? Are you in pains?"
"You should know that, since you were the one who mixed together that drug that was put in my wine," Hector reminded her dryly. "How would I know what poison you sprinkled into it?"
Colour rose to her cheeks. "It was harmless."
"Why should I believe you?" he asked her, challenging. "I am still weak and my head is still spinning."
"It will pass within a few hours," she told him. "You will have your strength back. I promise you. And they won't..." She blushed. "They will not beat you again, my lord."
He didn't know why, but for some reason he believed she was telling the truth. He sighed and closed his eyes. "Where are we?"
"In the cellars under our house. They dragged you here..."
Hector laughed bitterly and shook his head. "You really played your part well," he told her. "I fell for your innocent act like some blue-eyed boy child. And all the time, you knew just where you were going to hit. A sly plan indeed. You should be in politics, my lady."
She pressed her lips tightly together. "I knew nothing," she said firmly.
"Don't even try that!" Hector spat at her, sensing a fury in his blood.
"I didn't; you must believe me..."
"You prepared the wine, didn't you?" Hector asked sarcastically.
"He made me do it."
He scoffed. "Not again, Lena. I won't fall for your innocent ploys this time. Never again."
"It's true," she hissed feverishly. "Please listen to me!" She pulled a deep breath to calm down and continued: "He made me do it, I swear. It was not my choice. What do you think he would have done to me if I had refused?"
Hector didn't answer and tears of frustration filled her blue eyes. "Do you now what it's like to live your whole life in terror?" she hissed. "Do you know what it's like to wake up every day wondering if this will be your last? Do you know what it's like to be on someone else's mercy every moment of every day? No you don't," she spat. "You know nothing, Prince of Troy."
He didn't know what to say, he just stared at her, slightly astonished. She swallowed and angrily wiped the tears from her eyes. They were both silent for some time. "Do you know what they will do to me?" he finally asked her flatly.
She nodded. "They will be coming here tonight with the butcher's boy..." she hesitated. "It seems like they have decided to take your hand off."
Hector sucked in a breath. He feared neither fighting nor enemies, but the thought of being maimed was enough to drain all colour from his cheeks. Without his hand, he wouldn't be able to hold his sword and shield. He would no longer be a man, only a useless cripple. A crippled crown prince.
"You can't let them do that!" he said fiercely.
She didn't answer and Hector felt panic. "You can't," he repeated. "For gods' sake, Lena. If what you have told me is true, then prove it! Help me to get out of here."
She swallowed again. "I... I can't do that, my lord."
"Yes you can!" he hissed. "You are Nikos' lover, aren't you? Use your masterly tricks on him for a change! Get the key to my chains."
"He would kill me if he found out," she whispered.
Hector didn't answer since he knew that it was pointless to deny that fact. "I beg you."
She looked at him for a long time. "No," she finally said and left the cell.