Chapter 5 - Escaping fear
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break the chains. Besides, what difference would it make? The door was bolted from the other side and he was in no condition to break it down. There was nothing to do, except waiting.
What a fool I am, Hector realized bitterly. What a stupid halfwit. He deserved what was coming to him. He deserved worse.
When he heard voices outside the cell again, he pulled a deep breath and tried to compose himself. No matter what, he was going to face them with dignity. He was a prince and he would talk down to them with contempt.
But it was only Nikos and Lena who arrived. Nikos carried a tray of food. "My sweet lady insisted that you would have a decent meal," he declared and nodded at Lena who carried a jar of water. He put some bread and dried fruit in front of Hector who looked at it with disinterest.
"You better eat, Prince of Troy," Nikos urged him. "Enjoy the feeling of being able to use both your hands – even if they are chained." He laughed profoundly at his own joke and held out a loaf of bread for the prince.
Hector had no appetite whatsoever; the thought of food made him feel sick. He lashed out and casually struck the bread out of Nikos' hand. A very incautious thing to do, he realized as he saw a look of fury cross the other man's face. His payment for his stupidity was a hard kick from Nikos' boot that hit him across his cheek and sent him back towards the wall.
Nikos watched the panting prince grimly. He glanced at the woman who was standing behind him, clutching her jar tightly in her hands. "Pour him a cup of water, Lena," he ordered. "He looks like he may need it."
Lena didn't move an inch.
Nikos frowned. "Lena?" he said commandingly. "Do what I tell you."
The girl's eyes were wide and she breathed heavily. To Hector's eyes she seemed to be moving very slowly when she suddenly lifted her arm, but it was probably not a matter of more than a couple of seconds. Nikos didn't have a chance to react before she slammed the jar of water into the side of his head. Nikos fell to the floor like a rock. Blood trickled from the wound.
Without hesitation, Lena bent over and unsheathed the short sword Nikos carried by his belt. Then she reached her hand out to Hector. "Come on," she whispered nervously."
Hector just stared at her and the knocked out man on the floor. "What are you doing?" he asked hoarsely.
"What does it look like I am doing?" she asked him incredulously. "Hurry, or do you want him to wake up again?"
Still dazed, Hector took her hand and allowed her to help him back to his feet. "What about the others?"
"Don't worry, they are asleep." She smiled dryly. "The drug works just as well on commoners as it does on princes. Can you walk?"
"I think so," Hector mumbled and staggered slightly. "What about him?" he asked, pointing at Nikos."
"Just leave him," she said with indifference.
"But my chains..."
"Never mind the chains!" she whispered fiercely. "The butcher will be here soon and we have to be away before then. If he catches us, he will take four hands instead of one."
She helped him stagger towards the stairs. They had just made it to the landing when the door was opened and they were met by an extremely overweight young man, carrying an axe in his hand.
The man stared at them both in wonder, but Lena reacted like a flash. She used the shaft of the short sword to shove into his swelling belly. He vaulted backwards and fell. Quickly, Lena grabbed Hector's hand and they stepped over the fallen man, out into the street.
"Quickly!" Lena hissed and dragged the dazed prince with her towards another alleyway. They heard other voices screaming behind them, a horse neighing and hurried their steps. Hector stumbled sometimes. The streets were dark and deserted, but Lena's hand held him firmly. She seemed to know where to go.
Behind them, the sound of hoofs was getting closer. "Please, my lord, you must hurry," Lena begged him with a hint of desperation in her voice. Hector tried to concentrate on every step he took to keep himself from falling apart. However, he found it impossible to stay quiet. He panted and breathed so hard that the sounds seemed to eco across the sleeping town.
Suddenly, a giant horse was in front of them and Lena stopped so abruptly that Hector ran into her. There was a young man in the saddle and his face was twisted with rage. "You treacherous snake!" he hissed at Lena and raised his sword, swinging it towards her.
Lena dived and pulled Hector with her. "This way!" She dragged him into another alley. This one was so narrow that the horse wouldn't be able to get through. Hector ran blindly through the darkness, holding on to Lena's hand for dear life. He felt like she was his only link to the other world at the moment. She was the only person who could see him through the darkness towards the light at the end of the tunnel.
But when they reached the other end, they were met by an unpleasant surprise. Two other men were waiting for them, armed with swords and daggers. "Lay down your weapons!" one of them demanded.
Hector stared at them. There were two of them and they had weapons. For a moment he considered giving up. He didn't have the strength to do anything. But then he was suddenly grasped by fury. They would not lock him up again. He would not be at their mercy again. Not without fight.
"The sword; give it to me," he whispered.
Lena looked at his chains and seemed like she wanted to protest. But the look in Hector's face stopped her. Besides, she really didn't have much choice. Her hands were trembling and fumbling as she handed the sword over to him.
"Step aside," Hector told her grimly. She gave him one last anxious look and did as he told her. The men looked slightly surprised at Hector's choice of action, but then their faces hardened.
"If that is the way you want it," one of them said icily.
Hector didn't know how he was able to parry the two men's initial thrusts. His arms felt weak and his legs limp. He was much slowed than usually and his head was still spinning slightly. The chains around his wrists forced him to hold the sword with both hands when he fought them, something he wasn't used to.
One of the men lashed out with a vicious strike that would have cut Hector's side open. He managed to block it with his sword and kicked out with his leg to keep the other man at distance.
The odds were not in his favour, but still, he somehow felt his confidence increasing with every moment that he managed to fend them off. The demands of necessity brought strength to his body and made him see things more clearly. Even in chains, he was a fearsome warrior and even if his opponents were two, they were not in his league. Besides, he knew that they wanted him alive.
He managed to hit one of the men with the flat side of the sword and sent him stumbling to the ground. The other man's face was bright red. His powers were getting weaker. Hector's strength increased with every breath. The effects of the drug were leaving his body and his rage helped to speed his recovery.
He pushed the man up against the wall and got a hold of his swords arm. Slowly, Hector's strong hands forced him to lower the sword. He could have done it faster, but he preferred to enjoy the moment. He usually preferred to kill men swiftly and painlessly but now, he somehow enjoyed the panic in the man's eyes.
That was when he suddenly heard a cry from Lena. He had almost forgotten about her in the heat of the moment and glanced around. Apparently, the other man had not been knocked out and he was approaching her in an intimidating way. Quickly, Hector used his sword to finish the man he had pinned against the wall. The he turned around, prepared to aid the girl.
But it turned out that Lena didn't need any help. Her hands pulled out a small dagger from her belt and with a surprising skill; she threw it straight into the man's chest. He fell backwards with a terrible wheeze.
Lena stared at the man whose life she had taken with wide eyes. She was breathing fiercely. Hector put his sword away and approached her. "Are you all right?" he asked her gently.
She nodded, but her wide eyes said something else. Hector walked up to her and with a shivering sigh, she stepped into his embrace. She didn't cry, but her entire body was shaking. Hector comforted her with low, soothing words, as he was carefully stroking her raven hair with his chained hands. She let him hold her, but she looked slightly embarrassed when she pulled back.
"It's all right," Hector said mildly. "I know it is not easy the first time." He could well remember the first time he had slain a man. He had been no more than a boy back then, but he could still hear the eco of the man's screaming in his mind.
Lena blinked in surprise. Then she smiled awkwardly. "This... this was not my first time, my lord," she admitted.
Hector was startled, but he didn't have the time to ask her more, before he suddenly let out a loud moan and cringed. The wounds on his back were stinging. He had been able to ignore them during the fight, but now they hurt worse than ever.
"What is it, my lord? Are you injured?" Lena asked with worry.
"It's all right..." Hector started hoarsely, but Lena discovered the truth as she examined him.
"Oh, my lord!" She shook her head miserably. "They treated you in a dreadful way... and it's my fault."
"No, it's not," Hector began, but she wouldn't listen.
"I was such a coward... I wouldn't help you and I didn't do anything to stop them from hitting you."
"It doesn't matter now," Hector assured her. "Thanks to you, I finally got away from them."
She shook her head fiercely. "I deserve none of your gratitude, my lord. You would never have ended up in this situation if it wasn't for me."
"Whatever you did, you have made up for it tonight," Hector said firmly. When she shook her head, he couldn't keep himself from smiling. "Gods Lena, has anyone ever told you what a stiff neck you have?"
The girl blushed, but she smiled too. "Once or twice," she admitted.
"I am not surprised." Hector groaned again and felt his legs go limp from under him. Lena quickly wrapped her arm around his waist to keep him steady.
"We shouldn't stay here," she decided. "More people will probably come looking for us."
Hector knew she was right, but he still didn't feel like leaving. "I don't think I can make it to the palace," he admitted.
"Don't worry, my lord," Lena said as she began to lead him off. "I'll take you somewhere safe."
As they walked, Hector started to feel like his exhaustion was finally catching up with him and he found it difficult to use his legs. He tried not to lean too hard on Lena because he realized that it must be difficult for her. Even if she was a strong woman he weighed quite a lot. But she assured him that she was all right and he had no other choice but to believe her.
He didn't know how long they had been walking, when he seemed to fall out of consciousness. He felt the ground under his feet, but he saw nothing and heard noting. One again, he was completely depending on her as she led him through the dark streets of Troy.
He didn't know where he was when he was finally laid down on something soft. He put his head down and enjoyed the feeling. Around him there was a chorus of voices, but he only recognized one of them.
"I need a blacksmith to take off his chains. Could anyone get him for me?"
"The prince of Troy in here? Are you out of you mind, Lena?"
"I didn't know where else to take him. I need some anointments to clean his wounds. Does he have a fever, do you think?"
Someone turned him over and he felt something wet against his back and stiffened. It stung like fire. But her voice calmed him down. "Don't worry, my lord. It will ease your pains..." He forced himself to relax and as he experienced a soothing feeling over his wounded back, he started to fall into a slumber.
"Where are we?" he whispered, groggily.
"In a room above the tavern," she answered reassuringly. "Don't be afraid, my lord. I won't let anything happen to you."
That was all he needed to hear. Sighing, he gave into his weariness and fell into a deep sleep.
In his dreams, he was back in the dark cell. His mind was heavy and his body numb. A man came towards him, carrying an axe. He was filled with a dread he had never experienced before and tried to pull away. But he couldn't move. Arms shackled him tightly and his wrists were bound.
The man raised his axe and hit.
The pain was excruciating. Hector stared at the stump where his hand had been placed. The man held the appendage before his eyes and waved it, teasingly. The whole room was roaring with mocking laughter. Fury and humiliation burned in his soul.
They didn't settle with one hand. They took off the other one as well. They took of his feet, his arms, his legs until there was nothing left of him. They had taken his eyes and his ears. He couldn't see anything; he couldn't hear anything.
You can't do this to me; I am the Prince of Troy! He wanted to scream, but he couldn't. They had taken is tongue as well. And he realized that it would be the wrong thing to say anyway. He wasn't a prince. He was nothing but a cripple. A freak and an abomination...
He was jerked out of his dreams and woke up with a start. He was breathing heavily as he tried to remember where he was and what had happened. Frantically, he searched through his body and felt a wave of relief as he felt that his arms and legs were still there. The chains had been taken off. He could use his ears and he could see.
But he couldn't loose his fear that clenched his heart and soul tightly. He still felt divided. Would they come for him again? Would they find him? Did he still have his ability to fight?
That was when a soft hand reached out to touch his cheek and he heard a gentle, low voice. "My lord... Hector, you are all right. Nothing can threaten you now."
He could make out her form sitting next to him on the bedside and a wild longing came over him. He grabbed her hand tightly and pulled her to him. Like a babe snuggling up to his mother, he just wanted to be close to her, sense her warmth and the comfort of her softness.
He felt a desperate need to prove that he was still alive and that he was still a whole and healthy man. And there was only one way that he could think of. Blindly, his lips found hers as he covered her body with his own. He could think of nothing except his wild wish to escape this dread he wanted nothing to do with.
But as he looked into her wide eyes, his sense suddenly spoke up. Gods, what am I doing? And with an effort that almost made him feel dizzy, he stopped himself. But when he attempted to liberate her from the weight of his body, she surprised him by holding on to him.
"Don't go," she said slowly.
Hector stared down at her. Somewhere deep inside, he knew that this couldn't be right and he knew that he should say it. But he couldn't. Desire, mixed with fear, gratitude and self-awareness had created a need in him that he didn't know how to stop. He didn't want to feel any guilt and he couldn't.
Her blue eyes were calm and he could tell that she understood his reasons. But it didn't make any difference to her. Her hand slowly touched his cheek. "Let me make it better for you, my lord," she whispered.
In that moment, everything vanished. Everything except her.