Chapter Fifteen
Summary: Okay, get ready. This is the last chapter! (Not including the epilogue that'll follow.) As the city of Troy burns, its few civilians make it out alive; but not until they have said their final goodbyes to Priam, their beloved father, leader, and king, and Achilles and Helen.
Achilles
It gives me more pain than a sword piercing my skin to see Briseis cry. Although I am warm with fever and my conscience is barely an existence, a cool light washes over me, which even in this darkness allows me to see her. Quickly wiping her large teardrops with grimy hands, she rushes to cleanse and close the open wounds on my body with the dry hem of her skirt.
But it is too late; I can feel it. And still she held me, kneeling there and gazing with disbelief at the small wound at my heel that was slowly killing me. Yet there is always admiration.
Yes, perhaps admiration and love is what I will see during my last moments.
It didn't matter now that I was the son of Thetis. I couldn't avoid the inevitable end.
"Briseis, listen to me. We don't have much time." And she did, turned her head for me to hold onto her complexion ever after.
"The war is over. You will live in peace with your cousins and your people. Hector, he is a very good man. He loves you. Do not hold any enmity toward him. He had to do it. I understand it has to be done in war. But you, you will not be touched by the horrors of war, nor will you ever speak of it again. Lose me, for the rest of your people. Your future depends on it. You will survive, won't you? Promise me that."
In between sobs: "Yes…I p-promise."
"Perhaps I knew no peace before you. Even so, because of you the moments we shared are worth everything to me. Worth my whole lifetime. Do not think that our moments were too few. For you will remember me, and your heirs, for all the ages of the world. They will not know who we are, but they will treasure our names. They will still speak of a Helen and a Paris, a Briseis and an Achilles who loved each other. And started the most famous war in history. And you have an heir to remember me by." I clasped my shaking hand to her womb.
Her look of surprise turned into happiness. "I know it. I can see our prince. You will raise him in a new land that will flourish for many heirs to rule for generations to come. His name…is Niko."
I garnered my last strength. My breathing came in long, heavy gasps.
"I will see thee in Elysian. I shall be waiting. Remember, I am always with you. Farewell…" I could not speak any longer. I summoned one last breath.
"A life of war was my fate, not peace. But for you, my dear Briseis, it will be."
She kissed me, and amidst all the blood, death, tears and all the chaos around us, I saw only her. Only her, only breath, only her scent…
Briseis
As he closed his eyes his lips were smiling. I prayed to Apollo for counsel. And there he was, Cassandra clinging to his side, and I knew. It was he who had spoken through Achilles. Through the fires he led me, resolute and strong. Andromache, carrying Astyanax, was right behind him.
"Where is Helen?" I asked her. "Is she safe? And Hector? And Paris? Priam…"
She said, with only the strength herself could muster at his moment, "Priam was killed, and Helen. We are looking for Hector and Paris."
My heart sank. But there was no time to think of them, for we had our own lives to worry about.
With a new hope of carrying life inside me, I followed Apollo, our leader.
Hector
I saw my Trojans dying beside me, being slain like animals. It drove me mad.
"Where is Helen?" Agamemnon demanded. Paris, who was right beside me in the fight, answered proudly and mockingly: "Your girl is dead. I slew her. That's right, I killed her with my own hands. And who is to chase after me? It is already over."
With a roar, he charged toward me, and I gave him an impressive stab in the back. He fell backward like a board, and I shouted:
"It is done, fellow comrades! Go, sail safely back to Greece! For my work here is finished, and the war is officially over! Rejoice!"
The Greeks immediately followed my orders. They raced back to their ships. As for the remaining soldiers at our lines, they gave great cheers of happiness and relief. But Paris, my brother, he was still anxious.
"Brother, where is Father? We must go save him! What if they-" He couldn't bear to finish.
"Paris, Father is…"
"No!" Paris yelled, fighting back tears.
"It was his choice, Paris. We should respect his decision. He wanted to be next to the city he loved. He was an elderly man, he couldn't have stood a chance. Come, brother. Let us find Helen's body."
Paris didn't flinch at the weighty task in front of him. That's my brother. He now seemed to be thinking of Oenone and his daughter. I laughed, for we had victory. And I could still hope for everything to be all right.
Paris
My first thought was of Oenone and my daughter.
Oenone had to be unharmed; she was a nymph, after all. But what of our daughter? She had mortal blood in her…she was more vulnerable to harm.
Hector and I rode through the blazing city. We found Aeneas, our dearest cousin, exhausted from carrying his elderly father on his back. Our mother, Hecuba, seeming disoriented from all the heat from the fires that were eating our city.
"Mother. We have returned."
She kissed both of us like she used to, and I felt young again.
"Most of our family has perished. Your father, Helen…oh, Paris, get that wretched girl out of here. And where are Andromache and Briseis?"
Almost like an answer, there they appeared, in front of us, and they were happy to see us as well. There were only a few of us. But we were alive, which was all that mattered.
I gazed, and I saw Lord Apollo, giving me a little wink. So he had helped us again. I saluted him.
"Paris?" It was a voice I knew.
"Oenone! Are you all right?" I rushed to embrace her. She carried our daughter in her arms, and when I held her she was limp.
"Paris…she…"
"Oenone, don't tell me this…"
"She was murdered. She asked for you, and then she was stabbed…I tried to heal her, Paris, but it was too late..." I held her, our daughter lifeless between us.
"Stay here."
I ran into what was left of the palace, and I carried Helen's body and, with the help of Aeneas, Priam's body outside.
In the next few minutes we had Helen, Achilles, Priam and Andronea on funeral pyres. We all said prayers, standing in a small circle. We placed coins on their eyes for a safe journey to the Underworld. Helen, whose blood I still had on my hands, Achilles, whom I had killed, and Priam, his serene expression denying anything wrong in the world. Despite my guilt, I had a strange calmness within me from killing them, like purging myself of my evil fate.
Aeneas had the honor of lighting them all with a torch. And we set them to burn, and we wanted the wind to carry them in the morning.
We took an abandoned ship and set sail with plenty of food to last us for a week. We didn't belong here anymore. We would find a new place. The sword of Troy under my belt, we can do anything. We will still carry our glorious name, for the spirit of Father lives, and his blood runs in my veins.
Help us, O Gods.
I saw Briseis smiling contentedly to herself, clutching her stomach. I smiled. She was carrying inside her what only love could create. So she and Achilles had really loved each other. I regretted killing him. All killing had led to no end. We would have won anyway, with Helen gone. I hoped that she would forgive me. And Cassandra and Apollo were embracing each other, still together after all this time. Cassandra would go to be with him from now on. If only she would forgive me, too.
Mercy, O Gods.
And I held Oenone, hoping that, with all my heart, that she could give some of her pain to me. I couldn't bear to see her suffer.
Hear me, O Gods.
Give to us your blessing.
And so we sailed, Oenone clinging to me for warmth from the cool air of the new dawn. The breeze made ripple effects in the water, and everything was perfect. And I was glad that she would always find shelter within me, in my heart, and I, in her.
Thinking that I will be an uncle in just nine months time makes me shudder with excitement.
