Lily, Gaby and moonrider: Thank you for reviewing. I wish I could update more often, but I am a wreck of stress at the moment.

Michelle: Thank you for your compliments. Nice to hear that you liked the hints about Briseis' background. That might have a greater importance in the story...

Queen Arwen: Of course I am sorry to hear that you haven't reviewed before, but I don't blame you. I am usually not to fond of H/OC:s myself. Anyway, I am glad that you finally gave me a comment and I'll try not to disappoint you.

Lilycup: Yes you are probably right. Lena might feel that she has some reasons for what she is doing, but she is probably not completely sane.

Priestess of the myrmidon: I have nothing to add. She is bad. And worse will she get...

Chapter 13 – A line between reality and illusion

He kept thinking about Briseis. Would she make it back to the palace? Was she clever enough to avoid the open streets were she would easily be caught? Hopefully, she would bump into one of his men. He asked himself what had happened to the apollonians who had been present when he was captured. Had the spell killed them all or were they still alive?

Since he didn't know how they had brought him here, he had no way of knowing if anyone had seen them. But he was clear sighted enough to realize that it would be difficult for anyone to find this place. He had never discovered the cave before so why should anyone else? No, he realized grimly. He had better not hope for anything.

The thoughts of Lena made him squirm with shame, but he couldn't keep them out of his head. She was his sister for gods' sake even if she was only half blood. He closed his eyes in shame. What a sly trap she had lured him into. If only he hadn't been such a blind fool...

He had committed incest when he bedded his father's daughter, even if he had been unaware of her true identity. He knew that he wasn't the first man who had lain with a closely related woman though. The royal lines were tightly entwined and he had heard rumours that some royal houses were so inbred that their blood had grown weak and that their children were born sickly and deformed. Some Greek tale even spoke of a king who had married his mother.

But he was the Prince of Troy! He had always considered himself stronger and cleverer than many other men. That was what he was supposed to be; what he had to be considering his position. He was supposed to be unmoved and unaffected and he wasn't supposed to let anyone have any power over him. And still that seven times accursed little adder had managed to outwit him so easily. She had been right. He had underestimated her and now he had to pay dearly for it.

He closed his eyes tightly as he thought about what a powerful weapon he had provided her with. A weapon she would use against his very own family. And he had given it to her freely and with pleasure. If only I could turn back time, he thought, distraught.

The door was suddenly opened and Lena stepped in. She greeted him cheerfully, but there was a smooth look in her face that Hector didn't like. She was up to something, he could tell. And he wasn't really sure that he wanted to know what it was. She seemed excited and by now he had learned that it wasn't a good sign.

"Briseis..." he asked her slowly and carefully.

She just smiled and shook her head. "Not yet, I am afraid." Turning towards the door, she loudly ordered: "Bring it in!"

Two men brought in a huge kettle full of some kind of steaming liquid. They put it down in the middle of the small dark space. Lena commanded them to leave and they obeyed her without any objections. Lena took a ladle and poured into the boiling liquid for a moment, before raising her head back to Hector.

"I have had a slight change of heart, Hector. You may not have to be presented as a sacrifice to the goddess after all. There might be a smoother way to arrange this. Killing two birds with one stone so to speak."

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean you might not have to end up on the altar."

He shook his head. "If you are going to spare anyone; let it be Briseis."

"Spare?" She laughed shortly. "I am afraid you misunderstood me. And your little cousin is beyond saving. It is my duty to relieve the world of a traitor like her."

"Lena..." Hector began through clenched teeth. "You are forgetting one small detail in your shrewd plan. I am your half-brother and Briseis is your cousin. If you kill us, you'll be a kin slayer. The gods will curse you for that."

That didn't seem to bother her. She used one of her slim hands to pull her air away from her face and smiled. "I am sure Artemis will be indulgent, considering the fact that I will be saving hundreds of Trojan lives." Her eyes narrowed slowly. "And as far as kin slaying is concerned, I don't think you would be a stranger to such an act, Hector. No more than other members of your family would."

"What do you mean?" he asked her sharply.

"Let me show you."

She smiled sweetly and moved closer to the kettle again. Hector stiffened involuntarily and she chuckled. "Oh, don't worry; I do not intend to boil your sweet little cousin alive in this thing today."

She brought out a small pouch from the pocket of her dress. It contained some reddish sort of powder that had a sharp scent. In a slow movement, she sprinkled the power into the boiling kettle. Almost immediately, giant bubbles started to form in the liquid and a great, purple and damp cloud of smoke lit up the obscure space.

The smell from the kettle filled the air and made Hector cough and sent tears falling from his eyes. It was ten times stronger than the incense that was used in the temples. Lena on the other hand seemed completely unmoved, even though she was standing practically inside the steamy cloud.

She smiled slowly. "Now I am going to demonstrate a foretaste of my powers to you, my dear. Just sit back and enjoy the performance."

As if I could go anywhere, you spiteful little witch, Hector thought grimly. His muscles still felt like water and now he could hardly even breathe in the scent that filled the space completely.

Lena started to mumble something in a low and methodical voice. Hector couldn't recognize any words but her tone was very firm. She moved her hands over the kettle in circles. The liquid seemed to be boiling harder and the smoke thickened. Hector stared at her in disbelief. Then he realized that she was trying to conjure something up. But what was that? And why?

She raised her head to him again. "I suppose you think that your family is worrying sick for your sake. Well, let's have a look, shall we?"

An explosion was suddenly heard; almost like a flash followed by a thunderbolt. Hector stared at the purple cloud with wide eyes. An image was starting to form. It showed a living picture of an exquisitely decorated chamber, which seemed strangely familiar. A man was lying in the bed, sleeping, but he was squirming and thrashing all the while. Hector recognized him.

"Paris?" he said in astonishment.

Lena nodded. "That's right. You forget about the ring, Hector. After Briseis was captured the first time, I sent Nikos to find a better place for it. And what place would be better than in the chamber of your sweet and ignorant brother."

Hector shuddered as he watched the image of his sleeping brother. It seemed so amazingly real; that he could hardly believe his own eyes.

Lena bent over the kettle. In a soft, slow voice, she began to whisper. "Paris... Paris..."

Paris squirmed even more, like he was attempting to get away from something. "No... No..."

"Oh yes," Lena answered. "It is no use to deny it."

Paris shook his dark head fiercely. "Hector is gone... He is gone and I can't..."

"Your brother is not gone," Lena said comfortingly. "He is with you and watching you."

"No, no," Paris almost sobbed. "He is gone, but it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter..."

"Of course it does. Just open your eyes and see for yourself."

Paris opened his eyes wide, like a newborn babe. He sat up in his bed. Suddenly he stared right at Hector. Their eyes locked and the prince felt a shiver down his spine as he realized that his brother could see him; just as he could see him.

"Hector?" Paris said slowly and in complete amazement.

"Paris," he whispered back.

"I told you he was there, didn't I Paris," Lena's smooth voice continued. "And now you have your chance. What are you waiting for?"

Violently, Paris shook his head.

"You are disappointed of course?" Lena sighed. "I should have known. It is never very nice to know that your rival is still there to haunt you."

Rival? Hector frowned in complete bewilderment. What was she talking about?

"No," Paris said again, louder. "No, it's not true."

"Yes it is. You know it is. Why do you keep lying?"

"I am not lying!" Paris roared.

"It is eating you up from inside, isn't it? There is only one way to get rid of it. You have to let it out."

"Never!" Paris spat. "I will never..."

Lena nodded. "Oh yes, you will. Sooner or later you'll be forced to. That is the only way you will be able to keep your sanity. Be honest with yourself, Paris and stop lying to everyone around you. Confess."

"There is nothing to confess!" Paris was standing in the middle of his room, dressed in his nightshirt and screamed loud enough to wake his servants.

"Artemis sees everything, my prince. You can't hide anything from her. She sees the torment that you carry inside. She sees the feelings that is torturing your soul ad your conscience. It doesn't matter that he is your brother, does it?"

Paris lashed out, trying to punch his invisible enemy with desperate strength. "Lies! It's all lies!" But his fist only hit through the air and he lost his balance and fell to the floor. Hysterically, he covered his ears, trying to shut the voice and the sights out.

Lena lowered her voice. "This is your last opportunity, Paris. Are you going to be a man and tell us the truth?"

Paris body was shaking and his voice was choked. "No... No, I can't!"

Lena sighed. "Very well. Then we shall simply have to see for ourselves." She raised her voice and said some new incomprehensible words. The image inside the smoke started to change. Hector stared intently at it. Suddenly, he felt like he was inside his brother's mind; like he could read his thoughts and emotions. He could even be inside every hidden corner of his memory...

I am so glad this stupid journey is finally over, Paris thought grimly as he rode his horse along the beach with the men he had brought with him from Troy by his side. Finally, they had reached the shores of Thebe and the endless sea voyage had finally come to an end. Paris loathed boats, which might be a result of the fact he always suffered from sea-sickness. He had lost a lot of weight during the weeks at sea and much to his despair, his body wasn't as fine and lithe as it usually was.

They were heading for the city now and they would finally have some space to breathe, even if it meant that he and his party would be forced to sit with the pathetic little king of this realm. Not to mention his dull brood, including Hector's future wife with her horse face. He shuddered as he imagined how he would have to endure her company on his way back to Troy. As if a sea journey wasn't tedious enough as it was.

But that could wait. Now all he wanted was something to eat and drink and get some sleep in a real bed. His back hurt after the many nights on the hard bunk in his cabin. He was sick of it all. He longed for the sort of accommodations which was befitting for a prince. Soft linen sheets, pillows of silk and perhaps even some pleasant company...

As they drove their horses upside a mountain hill, a rider suddenly approached them in a quick gallop. King Eetion was eager to receive them well, Paris noted approvingly. He hoped that this lad would tell them that it wasn't more than ten minutes at most left to ride. He was starting to feel saddle sore.

However, Paris was surprised when the rider came closer and he realized that it was a woman who was sitting in the saddle and quite a comely one at that. She was tall and slender with dark hair that fell down her back in a tight braid. She wore a simple, green riding suit which fitted her perfectly. She held her horse in with expert preciseness, sending a cloud of dust spurting over the Trojan party.

"I am very sorry, my lords," she quickly apologized. "I hope I didn't ruin your clothing."

Paris looked curiously at her. "I am guessing you have been sent by King Eetion to receive us."

She nodded. "That is correct, my lord. I am..."

"Good," Paris said and flashed her his most charming smile. "I am pleased that the King of Thebe has sent us such a lovely welcoming committee. You may spurt as much dust over me as you like, my dear."

The young woman raised her eyebrows, but she didn't seem embarrassed. "Oh? And I suppose you are..."

"Prince Paris of Troy, youngest son of the noble King Priam," Paris nodded, placing a great emphasis on his title. He wanted this woman to be well aware of his high rank. "And I suppose you will tell me that the city of Thebe is just around the next corner?"

"I am sorry, my lord," she said politely, "but we have got at least an hour left to ride."

Paris sighed dramatically. "That is just my usual bad luck. After two weeks at sea you would think I would finally have some peace, but all I get is several hours stuck on horseback and a seriously skin flayed rear. The gods must have cursed me." He shook his head and smiled knowingly at her. "But at least it seems that I will enjoy some pleasant company on the way. Don't you agree?"

She nodded. "Oh yes, my lord. I don't know any better." She leaned forward and patted her horse's neck. "He always keeps quiet and listens to what a woman has to say. There are not many men who can do that, you know. Usually, they are just too fond of listening to their own voices."

Her reply was quick and innocent and Paris couldn't help laughing. The woman smiled sweetly as she gathered her reins. "This way, my lords."

Paris found that he could endure the ride surprisingly well after all. He had to admit that this country was beautiful and it was rather thrilling to bee on his own in this foreign place. He had not had a chance to see much of the world outside Troy before. And above all, he was pleased with his escort.

He glanced at the young woman who was riding by his side. After the long weeks on the ship without a single female individual in sight, she seemed almost exotic to his eyes. Any woman would have been, no matter how plain or fat or tedious she was. But it was something special about this wench, he had to admit.

She didn't resemble the sweet-looking girls he usually fancied very much. She was too tall and too thin; almost boyish in her appearance. Still, she was undoubtedly handsome and seemed to have an attractive personality. Her wit had surprised him and there was something challenging in her ways that excited him. Paris smiled to himself. If things turned out the way he wanted them, he would put her in his bed before the end of this day. And of course, he always got what he wanted.

He turned towards her, intending to start a conversation. "Are you a Theban from birth?"

She nodded. "Yes, my lord. I have lived here all my life."

"And how old are you?"

"Nineteen, my lord."

"Really? I am seventeen," Paris informed her. Then he lowered his voice and added roguishly. "But don't worry; I have got nothing against older women."

The young woman raised her eyebrows, but she didn't answer. Paris laughed silently to himself. "And who are you living with? I cannot believe that such a charming young lady such as yourself is still unmarried."

She smiled. "Well, I am, my lord. I live with my parents and the rest of my family."

"Indeed?" Paris said, interested. Then he lowered his voice once again. "And tell me, my sweet; does your father sleep heavily at night?"

The young woman's face was completely innocent. "Yes, he does. As a matter of fact, he is snoring terribly. Just ask my poor mother."

Paris chuckled in delight. "I am so sorry to hear it. And where do you live?"

"Why do you want to know that?"

So she was trying to play hard to get, Paris thought in amusement. Well, it didn't matter. He was an expert hunter... "Oh, I just thought I would come by and... admire your lovely backside... oh forgive me, I mean backyard of course." He grinned at her, quite satisfied with his own sense of humour.

A blush appeared on the girl's cheeks, much to Paris contentment. She bit her lip, like she was trying to keep her own feelings in check. "My father is a very hospitable man, my lord, as I am sure you'll learn." Then she urged her horse forward and he quickened his steps.

"Well, I just hope it runs in the family," Paris mumbled, smirking as he followed her.

The city of Thebe was much greater than he had expected and even though he knew that it was in no way comparable to his own birthplace, he couldn't help feeling impressed. He followed the young woman who obviously knew the town well. She led the way towards the palace, which was placed in the town's centre. A mass of people were gathered by the gates.

By the stairs downside the palace, a tall man was standing. The years had created grey streaks in his dark hair, but he still looked surprisingly young. Paris realized that this had to be king Eetion. Seven well-built and sturdy young men were standing further up on the steps. His whelp sons, Paris guessed and the rest of the family seemed to be waiting right behind them.

The young woman dismounted her horse and approached the king. Much to Paris' surprise, she didn't bow to him nor did she make any gesture of reverence. Instead, she tenderly kissed his cheek and leaned over to whisper something in his ear. Paris frowned. What was this? Was that girl the king's concubine? Damn it. He certainly didn't want to share her with his host.

The king of Thebe approached the prince, smiling graciously. "My young prince," he said. "I am very pleased to welcome you to my country."

Paris got his act together and quickly bowed. "Thank you, my lord. I am truly happy to be here."

"Your noble father has sent you here in friendship to seal an important bond between our countries," the king continued. "My house is open to you." He made a gesture towards the palace and Paris bowed again.

"Allow me to introduce my sons," Eetion said and the seven boys all bowed for the Trojan prince. Paris nodded and greeted them politely, as he did the king's wife; a beautiful lady in her early fifties.

"And you have already met my daughter, Andromache..."

At first, Paris didn't know who the king was referring to. Then he realized that he was indicating the young woman who had escorted him to the palace. She smiled amiably and curtsied. "A pleasure, my lord."

In less than a second, Paris face became as pale as a ghost's. For a moment, he felt like he was going to faint. It couldn't be... he tried to tell himself. She would have told him... But then he realized that he had never given her a chance to.

Good gods, that pretty young wench was the Princess of Thebe! She was that horse faced woman that poor Hector would be forced to marry! Paris swallowed tightly as he remembered all of the blatant invitations he had given her on their way. He had practically tried to seduce her from the first moment they had met.

And what if she was going to tell her father about it? Paris shuddered by the thought. No king would appreciate that a man was making inappropriate advances towards his daughter. King Eetion might have him thrown into one of the dungeons or worse, lead him to the execution block at once. This could be a disaster both for himself and for the relations between Thebe and Troy.

But then he suddenly apprehended the look in the young Princess' face. She didn't seem scandalized or offended. She didn't even seem upset. Her eyes were full of amusement and they sparkled teasingly against him. The smile on her face was knowing and he realized that she wasn't going to tell her father. She had enjoyed this experience and she took pleasure in seeing the shock in his face.

The relief inside Paris exploded and suddenly he started laughing. He just couldn't stop himself. She laughed too, with warmth and good nature. King Eetion and the others had no idea what was going on but they joined them in their laughter as well. They didn't seem to mind sharing a joke together.

Paris looked at the princess with fascination. He couldn't remember having ever laughed like that with a woman before...

The image began to fade and Paris' chamber became visible inside the smoke again. He was still lying on the floor, sobbing pitifully as he tried to cover his ears and his eyes to block the memory from his mind.

"Well, Paris?" Lena's soft, sly voice asked him. "Aren't you going to tell us what we want to know?"

Paris just shook his head, spasmodically.

"The truth is already out there so what does it matter? There is nothing left to hide. Come now, Paris. Ease your conscience and let us all know. If you don't, you know it will kill you."

"Yes!" Paris slammed his fists against the floor furiously. "Yes, it's true! I wish it wasn't but it is! I wanted her. I desired her. I loved her! I thought about running away with her. And I wish I had! But I couldn't! I couldn't, because he is my brother!"

He continued his rambling, but Hector barely heard him. He was mute with shock. He remembered Paris' peculiar and absent behaviour ever since he returned from Thebe. Why had he not seen it? Paris had clearly been infatuated with Andromache. He shook his head in amazement. Paris had never cared much for any woman in particular. He loved to be around girls, but he usually tired of them after a week at most and went on to the next. But this was different.

And Andromache? He asked himself. Did she have feelings for him too? How would I know? He asked himself grimly. The truth was that he had not been able to see what was going on between Paris and Andromache because he had been too busy dwelling upon his own misery.

And what would this mean? He asked in horror as he remembered Lena's presence. By now, he knew her well enough to realize that she was somehow going to use this to her own advantage.

Lena's soft voice hushed Paris and she started talking comfortingly. "It is really not as bad as you think. There is a way out of this."

"No there's not! He is my brother! I can never have her!"

"Wrong, Paris," Lena objected gracefully. "You can have her. Just open your eyes." In surprise, Paris did what she told him. "What do you see?" Lena asked him.

Paris sighed. "I see my brother."

"That's right. And look at the wall. What do you see there?"

Paris slowly turned his eyes towards the wall in his chamber. Hector's throat suddenly felt constricted. A very special gift that their father had given Paris on his sixteenth birthday was hanging on the wall. It was a massive sword with a golden shaft, decorated with Paris' name. Hector's whole body became icy as it slowly dawned upon him what Lena had in mind.

"You know what you have to do, Paris," she said seriously. "Take the sword down."

Paris shook his head, dazed. "I couldn't..."

"Take it!" she spat.

Paris swallowed, but stood up and slowly went to the other side of the room. Carefully, he lifted the sword down. He stared down at the blade for a while. Then he raised his eyes again, towards his brother.

"You can do it, Paris," Lena urged him. "Remember, just one strike and she will be yours. He is the only thing that is standing in your way."

"Paris, no," Hector whispered throatily.

Paris shook his head. "I can't..."

"Yes you can. You'll be saving your own life as well as hers. I promise I'll spare you both. You can go back to Thebe and live there happily together for the rest of your lives. Just you and your fair princess."

Paris shook his head again, but still moved a few steps closer to the helpless Hector. "He is my brother..." he said in a choked voice.

"He'll die anyway. You'll be doing him a great kindness."

"Don't listen to her, Paris!"

Paris raised the sword slightly. He was still in his chamber and Hector was in the cave, but they were still somehow connected.

"Go on," Lena tempted him. "Just one strike and Andromache will be yours."

"Paris, don't!" Hector shouted. He desperately tried to get away, but he was still unable to move. The spell still held him prisoner. "Don't do it!"

Paris raised his sword higher. His face was paler than death. "I want her," he whispered. And he lashed out to give his brother the deadly blow. Hector closed his eyes tightly. He was going to be killed – by his own brother.

But when Paris struck, he found no target. He stumbled as his sword hit the air and fell to the floor once again. Even if the brother's could see each other, they couldn't reach out to each other. Paris collapsed on the floor and his entire body was shaking with shock and grief.

Slowly the image faded. The smoke was purple again and the only sound that could be heard in the cave was Lena's amused chuckle. "I almost feel sorry for your poor foolish brother. He will always wonder if it was just a very bad nightmare.

"What did you do?" Hector hissed. "What was that? Was it just an illusion?"

"An illusion, yes, you can say that. It is powerful, but usually blocks the human touch from its reality. However, if your will is strong enough you can sometimes overcome that border." She shrugged. "It is too bad that your little brother is such a weakling. He would have done both you and himself a great favour."

Sounds could suddenly be heard from outside the cell. Nikos' voice rose over the others. "My lady, we managed to capture her! We have the girl!"

Lena turned back to Hector, smiling sweetly. "Artemis has been waiting long enough. It is time we start preparing for her, don't you think?"

Author's note: Ok, if nothing unexpected occurs, it will be grand finale next time. I must warn you that it might take me some time though. Apart from being covered with school stuff, I am also planning to finally post a one shot story that I have been working on for quite a while. I appreciate your patience.