DISCLAIMER: Achayus and Petra are mine and mine alone. Haitus is my own
name and island.
Prologue: The Falling of Troy and so much more
The boat rocked gently in the dark water as Briseis stared into its murky depths. Several men were rowing to Paris' whispers. She was between the two Princesses of Troy, Helen and Andromanche, on a ship with her people on her way to salvation, but all she felt was alone. As she wrapped a thick blanket around her shoulders, she couldn't help but compare it to the weight of Achilles hands on her when they slept. The mere thought of it brought a sheen of tears to her eyes. She wiped it away quickly in fear of being questioned. She bowed her head and drew the blanket tighter around her. Achilles final moments flashed in front of her eyelids.
His sardonic smile, his acceptance of what was happening, his confession of love. The last was something Briseis was sure she'd imagined. A son of war admitting to love. She knew she looked like something Hades had spit back out, her kohl streaming down her face in dry rivulets, her dark hair tangled and her face puffy from crying. She still felt where Achilles had held her face, his eyes filling with tears as he told her of how in the midst of a war she had shown him peace.
She couldn't stop them now. The tears were falling freely. Her body shook lightly as she held her sobs inside. She looked up into the inquisitive and curious gaze of her cousin Paris. It held an accusatory feeling and Briseis immediately blinked and congested her emotion.
Helen turned to her and gripped her hand.
"I know too, the pain of losing a home. But we have Paris and the gods protecting us now. You must believe that." She said soothingly. Briseis nodded, Achilles protected me, she thought. He protected me when the gods would not. I believe in no gods, she continued.
Helen smiled and turned her gaze forward. Briseis let hers too fall into the open vastness that was the dark of the night. As she watched, a small dot arrived on the horizon and she soon realized that this was to be their new home. An isle named Haitus.
Soon after she first caught sight of the island, they docked on the beach. The men jumped out, well all except Paris of course, and pushed the boat ashore. Then, they all assisted the women onto the soft sand of the beach. The white sand was bright and clear under the hazy moon above them in the night.
Helen, Andromanche and her child and Paris collected enough blankets for the three of them and plotted a small area for sleeping quarters. Paris stationed men as guards in front and behind them, making a wall of men to protect them. Briseis stood off from the crowd, still wrapped in her blanket. The men and women were all grabbing blankets and plotting their own spaces for sleeping. Seeing all these people bed down made Briseis realize how exhausted she herself was.
She squat on the soft sand and pulled the blanket up high around her shoulders so she could lie down without worrying about sand crabs in her hair. It was now, in the silence of the night, in between the dull murmurs of the others that she let herself be swept away in all that happened. She cried thick tears into her hair. She cried because her lover died, she cried because she lost her faith, she cried because she lost her home. It all compiled into one and she let it come until she was fast asleep, curled in a ball rolled in a blanket.
She would never be able to recall if it was a dream, or a message from the gods, but that night, on the beach, Achilles came to her. She lay still as she felt the familiar heavy hand on her thigh. She closed her eyes tightly, envisioning some sick guard standing over her with lust in his face. Taking a deep breath, she threw the blanket aside and grabbed at the hand on her thigh. She was startled to find herself gripping a hand that seemed all too familiar.
She followed the line of the arm to the face of her mysterious hand. She gasped lightly when she was staring into the clear blue eyes of Achilles. He sat on his knees in the pale sand, his eyes slightly more watery then when she last saw him. Her startled reaction turned to confusion quickly.
"What in the gods? How?" she whispered. "You died, I watched you. You were killed." She felt her throat tightening as she said the words.
"I have. Your tears have called me. The gods are allowing me only a moment and then I must retreat to Hades, please my love. Do no cry for me." He smiled bitterly wiping a tear off her cheek. She bit her lip.
"I cannot believe it. You cannot be real. I must have gone mad." She muttered looking away.
"Do I not feel real to you? Touch me, I am as solid as I was when you knew me." Achilles said taking her hand and pressing it to his cheek. Briseis felt herself breaking down into sobs.
She covered her face with her hands and fell into the curve of her lovers' arms. He certainly felt like flesh.
"Oh Achilles," she cried. "I do not know how I will manage, without you I fear I am nothing."
She felt his hand slowly run through her hair, smoothing it against her head. He slowly rocked her back and forth gently, like a babe.
"But you will not be alone." He murmured with his eyes closed and his face buried in her hair. "You will not be alone." He repeated.
"How can you know? You are gone, Paris has Helen, Andromanche has Hectors child, I am the one who is left. I have no one." Briseis whispered pulling out of the embrace, her fingers still entwined with Achilles.
"But you have forgotten." He placed hand softly on her stomach. "You are a woman, and I a man. You will not be alone." He said his voice cracking slightly. Her eyes grew wide with realization.
"You means to say?" her voice died on her lips. The look in his eyes told her it was truth. She put a hand over his on her stomach.
"My time here has ended Briseis. Don't forget me." Achilles whispered, tears forming in his eyes. He clasped her hand and removed the necklace from around his neck. He wrapped her fingers around the earthy amulets.
Briseis felt her own tears spring into her eyes and she nodded clutching them to her breast.
"How could I forget the one who protected me when my own gods did not? How could I forget a man who showed me mercy during a time when mercy was not an option? How could I forget the man I love?" She leaned forward in hopes of catching a kiss, but it was if he was never there. She felt the tears swell and she did nothing to stop them now. Slumping her shoulders she wept as if tomorrow would never come.
But as Apollo promises, the sun rose the next morn and Briseis woke to Paris standing over her.
"What is this?" he said with an accusatory glare. He held a rawhide string that held a few pendants. Briseis recognized it as the gift Achilles left her last night, but if it was merely a dream, how did she still have it? She put a hand over her stomach, and realized it that it was more than just a vision.
"Achilles." She said simply bowing her head. The bright sun burned her eyes. Paris squat in front of her.
"Yes. Lets talk about dear old Achilles. Explain to me Briseis, why you were embracing the enemy at his time of death in such a way that I almost believed you to be lovers."
Briseis turned away, she felt more tears welling. Paris took this as his answer.
"So I see. My assumptions were correct. Tell me Briseis, what about you're godly vows? Your sanctimonious speeches about the gods? You broke a vow to the gods for what? The enemy of our city? Or home?" When she did not answer, he repeated the question louder. "For what!"
Briseis looked her cousin in the eyes, tears shining.
"He protected me when my gods would not. He saved me from Agamemnon, and the Greek soldiers. I owe him my life."
"So protection is enough for him to bed you? Surely you must carry his seed then. Tell me Briseis, did you revel in the fact that he killed your cousin Hector, my brother? Killed him in cold blood and dragged his body through the dirt?"
Briseis felt anger welling inside her mouth.
"He was avenging his cousins death! Hector killed Patriclus. Patriclus was Achilles everything. He was simply evening the score. Hector accepted that! Hector respected that!"
"It was war-" Paris began.
"A war you started!" Briseis burst. Immediately she regretted it. The hurt on Paris' face nearly broke her heart. But you can't break what's already broken.
"Briseis, just tell me. Why him? Why our enemies!"
"Because he loved me. And I loved him."
"He and his people are the reason that Troy has fallen!" Paris exclaimed. Briseis locked eyes with her cousin.
"I do not blame the Greeks for the falling of Troy." She said spitefully.
Paris fell silent.
"And yes." She said proudly standing. Paris followed suit and stared down at her.
She squared her shoulders and stared the prince of troy down. By now, Helen and Andromanche were watching from a distance, not to mention the rest of the surviving Trojans.
"I carry the child of Achilles."
She watched as the weight of her words took effect. Paris' eyes grew wide, as did Helens and Andromanche.
"You will not keep it." Paris said coolly.
"Since when were you so bold Prince Paris. If I do recall, you broke challenge to Menelaus. You have no rights over me." Briseis said neutrally.
"Since I became the sole leader of Troy. Since my brother died at the hands of your lover and since I won the love of Helen. I am the king of Troy now. You are mine." Paris replied heatedly. "You will not keep it."
"I will not give it up."
A moment passed, and another, and another. Paris finally spat on the necklace and threw it at her feet in the sand. A glint of decision had passed his face.
"Fine, since you refuse to accept Trojan law, I hereby send you to exile. You will board a boat headed back to the beach from whence we came. Perhaps you can find your lover there. GO NOW! Before I change my mind and return to proper law."
For an instant Briseis felt weak. Feeling a wash of tears her breathing became ragged and she trembled as she bent and retrieved the gods given gift. She cleaned it of Paris' saliva on her own skirts. Then with a determined glare, she thrust the pendant over her head, adjusting it on her chest. It was long and fell just under her breasts.
"Minalio, Tulio and Neyman, take the traitor here and row her back to Troy. Take her to the body of her love. Her love that means more than the love of her real family. I have washed my hands of her." Paris said finally. He turned and strode away from his cousin.
The men approached Briseis and grabbed her wrists. She struggled as they led her to the boat. One of the men tufted her blanket into the boat while the other two tufted her. All three of them pushed the boat into the water. She watched as the shore floated farther away, she watched as Paris watched her. She clutched her belly that held her unborn child and knew she was making the right choice.
Now she stood on the beaches of Troy, empty of any ship or soldier. The boat that brought her was quickly becoming one with the horizon line.
Turning, she looked to find shelter, the sky was dark and showed promise of only rain. The gods were angered. Briseis could only guess why. Atop a sand dune, she saw the Apollo Temple. Running for it, she was glad for such a comfort in times like these.
The stone steps felt familiar under her feet as she took refuge inside. Dead soldiers littered the hallway, blood stained walls. Over the next few months, that would change.
Many things changed in the months to come. Each morning, Briseis removed a few bodies and cleaned the floor with seawater collected in the soldier's helmets. Eventually the temple was clean again. Her belly grew as the weeks went on, she began to venture into the decimation that was once Troy and collected what she could to make a proper home within the temple.
And on one day, on one trip back from town, she doubled over in pain. She knew what was next.
And so the son of Achilles was born.
Prologue: The Falling of Troy and so much more
The boat rocked gently in the dark water as Briseis stared into its murky depths. Several men were rowing to Paris' whispers. She was between the two Princesses of Troy, Helen and Andromanche, on a ship with her people on her way to salvation, but all she felt was alone. As she wrapped a thick blanket around her shoulders, she couldn't help but compare it to the weight of Achilles hands on her when they slept. The mere thought of it brought a sheen of tears to her eyes. She wiped it away quickly in fear of being questioned. She bowed her head and drew the blanket tighter around her. Achilles final moments flashed in front of her eyelids.
His sardonic smile, his acceptance of what was happening, his confession of love. The last was something Briseis was sure she'd imagined. A son of war admitting to love. She knew she looked like something Hades had spit back out, her kohl streaming down her face in dry rivulets, her dark hair tangled and her face puffy from crying. She still felt where Achilles had held her face, his eyes filling with tears as he told her of how in the midst of a war she had shown him peace.
She couldn't stop them now. The tears were falling freely. Her body shook lightly as she held her sobs inside. She looked up into the inquisitive and curious gaze of her cousin Paris. It held an accusatory feeling and Briseis immediately blinked and congested her emotion.
Helen turned to her and gripped her hand.
"I know too, the pain of losing a home. But we have Paris and the gods protecting us now. You must believe that." She said soothingly. Briseis nodded, Achilles protected me, she thought. He protected me when the gods would not. I believe in no gods, she continued.
Helen smiled and turned her gaze forward. Briseis let hers too fall into the open vastness that was the dark of the night. As she watched, a small dot arrived on the horizon and she soon realized that this was to be their new home. An isle named Haitus.
Soon after she first caught sight of the island, they docked on the beach. The men jumped out, well all except Paris of course, and pushed the boat ashore. Then, they all assisted the women onto the soft sand of the beach. The white sand was bright and clear under the hazy moon above them in the night.
Helen, Andromanche and her child and Paris collected enough blankets for the three of them and plotted a small area for sleeping quarters. Paris stationed men as guards in front and behind them, making a wall of men to protect them. Briseis stood off from the crowd, still wrapped in her blanket. The men and women were all grabbing blankets and plotting their own spaces for sleeping. Seeing all these people bed down made Briseis realize how exhausted she herself was.
She squat on the soft sand and pulled the blanket up high around her shoulders so she could lie down without worrying about sand crabs in her hair. It was now, in the silence of the night, in between the dull murmurs of the others that she let herself be swept away in all that happened. She cried thick tears into her hair. She cried because her lover died, she cried because she lost her faith, she cried because she lost her home. It all compiled into one and she let it come until she was fast asleep, curled in a ball rolled in a blanket.
She would never be able to recall if it was a dream, or a message from the gods, but that night, on the beach, Achilles came to her. She lay still as she felt the familiar heavy hand on her thigh. She closed her eyes tightly, envisioning some sick guard standing over her with lust in his face. Taking a deep breath, she threw the blanket aside and grabbed at the hand on her thigh. She was startled to find herself gripping a hand that seemed all too familiar.
She followed the line of the arm to the face of her mysterious hand. She gasped lightly when she was staring into the clear blue eyes of Achilles. He sat on his knees in the pale sand, his eyes slightly more watery then when she last saw him. Her startled reaction turned to confusion quickly.
"What in the gods? How?" she whispered. "You died, I watched you. You were killed." She felt her throat tightening as she said the words.
"I have. Your tears have called me. The gods are allowing me only a moment and then I must retreat to Hades, please my love. Do no cry for me." He smiled bitterly wiping a tear off her cheek. She bit her lip.
"I cannot believe it. You cannot be real. I must have gone mad." She muttered looking away.
"Do I not feel real to you? Touch me, I am as solid as I was when you knew me." Achilles said taking her hand and pressing it to his cheek. Briseis felt herself breaking down into sobs.
She covered her face with her hands and fell into the curve of her lovers' arms. He certainly felt like flesh.
"Oh Achilles," she cried. "I do not know how I will manage, without you I fear I am nothing."
She felt his hand slowly run through her hair, smoothing it against her head. He slowly rocked her back and forth gently, like a babe.
"But you will not be alone." He murmured with his eyes closed and his face buried in her hair. "You will not be alone." He repeated.
"How can you know? You are gone, Paris has Helen, Andromanche has Hectors child, I am the one who is left. I have no one." Briseis whispered pulling out of the embrace, her fingers still entwined with Achilles.
"But you have forgotten." He placed hand softly on her stomach. "You are a woman, and I a man. You will not be alone." He said his voice cracking slightly. Her eyes grew wide with realization.
"You means to say?" her voice died on her lips. The look in his eyes told her it was truth. She put a hand over his on her stomach.
"My time here has ended Briseis. Don't forget me." Achilles whispered, tears forming in his eyes. He clasped her hand and removed the necklace from around his neck. He wrapped her fingers around the earthy amulets.
Briseis felt her own tears spring into her eyes and she nodded clutching them to her breast.
"How could I forget the one who protected me when my own gods did not? How could I forget a man who showed me mercy during a time when mercy was not an option? How could I forget the man I love?" She leaned forward in hopes of catching a kiss, but it was if he was never there. She felt the tears swell and she did nothing to stop them now. Slumping her shoulders she wept as if tomorrow would never come.
But as Apollo promises, the sun rose the next morn and Briseis woke to Paris standing over her.
"What is this?" he said with an accusatory glare. He held a rawhide string that held a few pendants. Briseis recognized it as the gift Achilles left her last night, but if it was merely a dream, how did she still have it? She put a hand over her stomach, and realized it that it was more than just a vision.
"Achilles." She said simply bowing her head. The bright sun burned her eyes. Paris squat in front of her.
"Yes. Lets talk about dear old Achilles. Explain to me Briseis, why you were embracing the enemy at his time of death in such a way that I almost believed you to be lovers."
Briseis turned away, she felt more tears welling. Paris took this as his answer.
"So I see. My assumptions were correct. Tell me Briseis, what about you're godly vows? Your sanctimonious speeches about the gods? You broke a vow to the gods for what? The enemy of our city? Or home?" When she did not answer, he repeated the question louder. "For what!"
Briseis looked her cousin in the eyes, tears shining.
"He protected me when my gods would not. He saved me from Agamemnon, and the Greek soldiers. I owe him my life."
"So protection is enough for him to bed you? Surely you must carry his seed then. Tell me Briseis, did you revel in the fact that he killed your cousin Hector, my brother? Killed him in cold blood and dragged his body through the dirt?"
Briseis felt anger welling inside her mouth.
"He was avenging his cousins death! Hector killed Patriclus. Patriclus was Achilles everything. He was simply evening the score. Hector accepted that! Hector respected that!"
"It was war-" Paris began.
"A war you started!" Briseis burst. Immediately she regretted it. The hurt on Paris' face nearly broke her heart. But you can't break what's already broken.
"Briseis, just tell me. Why him? Why our enemies!"
"Because he loved me. And I loved him."
"He and his people are the reason that Troy has fallen!" Paris exclaimed. Briseis locked eyes with her cousin.
"I do not blame the Greeks for the falling of Troy." She said spitefully.
Paris fell silent.
"And yes." She said proudly standing. Paris followed suit and stared down at her.
She squared her shoulders and stared the prince of troy down. By now, Helen and Andromanche were watching from a distance, not to mention the rest of the surviving Trojans.
"I carry the child of Achilles."
She watched as the weight of her words took effect. Paris' eyes grew wide, as did Helens and Andromanche.
"You will not keep it." Paris said coolly.
"Since when were you so bold Prince Paris. If I do recall, you broke challenge to Menelaus. You have no rights over me." Briseis said neutrally.
"Since I became the sole leader of Troy. Since my brother died at the hands of your lover and since I won the love of Helen. I am the king of Troy now. You are mine." Paris replied heatedly. "You will not keep it."
"I will not give it up."
A moment passed, and another, and another. Paris finally spat on the necklace and threw it at her feet in the sand. A glint of decision had passed his face.
"Fine, since you refuse to accept Trojan law, I hereby send you to exile. You will board a boat headed back to the beach from whence we came. Perhaps you can find your lover there. GO NOW! Before I change my mind and return to proper law."
For an instant Briseis felt weak. Feeling a wash of tears her breathing became ragged and she trembled as she bent and retrieved the gods given gift. She cleaned it of Paris' saliva on her own skirts. Then with a determined glare, she thrust the pendant over her head, adjusting it on her chest. It was long and fell just under her breasts.
"Minalio, Tulio and Neyman, take the traitor here and row her back to Troy. Take her to the body of her love. Her love that means more than the love of her real family. I have washed my hands of her." Paris said finally. He turned and strode away from his cousin.
The men approached Briseis and grabbed her wrists. She struggled as they led her to the boat. One of the men tufted her blanket into the boat while the other two tufted her. All three of them pushed the boat into the water. She watched as the shore floated farther away, she watched as Paris watched her. She clutched her belly that held her unborn child and knew she was making the right choice.
Now she stood on the beaches of Troy, empty of any ship or soldier. The boat that brought her was quickly becoming one with the horizon line.
Turning, she looked to find shelter, the sky was dark and showed promise of only rain. The gods were angered. Briseis could only guess why. Atop a sand dune, she saw the Apollo Temple. Running for it, she was glad for such a comfort in times like these.
The stone steps felt familiar under her feet as she took refuge inside. Dead soldiers littered the hallway, blood stained walls. Over the next few months, that would change.
Many things changed in the months to come. Each morning, Briseis removed a few bodies and cleaned the floor with seawater collected in the soldier's helmets. Eventually the temple was clean again. Her belly grew as the weeks went on, she began to venture into the decimation that was once Troy and collected what she could to make a proper home within the temple.
And on one day, on one trip back from town, she doubled over in pain. She knew what was next.
And so the son of Achilles was born.