The war between Troy and Greece had always been a routine; the men would go and fight each day while the women and children were left behind. But now it seemed as if no one knew who they were fighting for or why.
Prince Paris of Troy had died; his body had burnt almost a fortnight ago and many expected King Menelaus to take Helen as his wife and leave, but he didn't. Menelaus wanted to take Helen back and return to Sparta with her but his brother was adamant to remain in Troy until they had won the war.
Menelaus sat on the sand, his bare feet buried within the once glittering sand. He took another swig from his wine and sighed heavily. Since the day he was born he had lived in his brother's shadow, had always been ordered by his brother and had done so without question, but now he was beginning to tire of it. He had come to Troy for his wife, no more and no less. He wanted Helen, he needed her.
A ship was soon spotted heading towards the shores of Troy. Menelaus leapt to his feet, recognizing the sails of Odysseus and smiled brightly. He had missed his friend Odysseus and had missed his voice of reason and intelligence in the meetings with the Kings of the Aegean.
Agamemnon stepped out of his tent at the sound of shouting from the men that Odysseus had returned. He saw his brother standing by the sea and walked over to him, a satisfied look on his face.
"I wonder if Odysseus has been able to bring Neoptolemus with him," Agamemnon wondered aloud, and he looked to his brother.
"He would have," said Menelaus confidently, "he would not have returned until he had brought him."
"Yes, you're probably right," said Agamemnon. He was silent for a few moments and then looked at Menelaus from the corner of his eye. "The kings and I have decided that someone should enter Troy, in disguise, to see the layout of the city and see if it is possible to enter by another way."
Menelaus sharply turned his head to look at his brother. "When was this decided? Why was I not consulted, why was I not there?"
Agamemnon deliberately ignored Menelaus's questions. He fell silent and walked away from his brother and went to greet Odysseus who had just landed on the shore.
"Odysseus!" greeted Agamemnon and clapped his friend's back. He then leant in and whispered: "Have you brought Neoptolemus with you?"
Odysseus nodded, and called for Neoptolemus to meet King Agamemnon.
Neoptolemus carefully stepped off the ship. He was thirty years old, yet he appeared and acted like a much younger man. The lack of a father in his life and spending so much time with his mother had made him younger than his years, or so the Greek soldiers thought.
The son of Achilles almost seemed like a timid child when faced with Kings of the Aegean, who were flooding to the crowd by Odysseus's ship, and the fierce soldiers who stared at him. His eyes were wide, however, with the excitement which had brewed with the sudden longing to fight and be like his father.
The soldiers glared at Neoptolemus, shocked that he could be the son of the mighty Achilles when he looked like a little boy in a man's world. They did not voice their skepticism on whether or not Neoptolemus could indeed end the war, and remained silent.
"Neoptolemus," greeted Agamemnon, "welcome to Troy." He already spoke as if Troy was his and that he was king of it. He sighed heavily after a few moments, almost as if his next words caused him too much pain. "Your father missed you greatly, he thought of you every moment until his death. He would have been so proud to have seen you fight."
Menelaus glared at his brother, infuriated that he could speak such lies without a shred of guilt in his tone. He, including every other man on that shore except for Neoptolemus, knew that Achilles had rarely thought of his son.
"Thank you, King Agamemnon," said Neoptolemus, soaking up Agamemnon's lies. He felt his heart swell at hearing Agamemnon's words and only wished he had seen his father before he died.
"My brother, Menelaus, will show you to your tent," said Agamemnon, "you will have your father's tent; it's what he would have wanted." He then smirked inwardly at how his words had moved Neoptolemus.
"Thank you," said Neoptolemus and he looked at Menelaus. He had never met Menelaus before now, but had heard many stories of the man whose wife had been wooed by a Prince of Troy to know enough of him.
Menelaus silently led Neoptolemus to Achilles's tent. As he led Neoptolemus he saw the look on his face at seeing the walls of Troy clearly, and smiled slightly.
Seeing the walls of Troy for the first time had the same effect on every man or woman, whether they were friends or foes with Troy. Each person was dazzled by its glittering, proud walls and would marvel at its grandness.
They soon reached Achilles's tent, which still held all of his personal items, excluding his armor which Odysseus had won during the funeral games for him. Menelaus parted the flaps to the tent and allowed Neoptolemus to enter first.
There was nothing spectacular to Achilles's tent, but Neoptolemus thought it wonderful. He felt closer to his father by simply standing near his belongings, smelling his scent and seeing his robes scattered over a chest.
As he looked around the tent he saw a gold ring with a dark emerald center lying on a table beside his father's bed. He instantly recognised that the ring had once belonged to Thetis, Achilles's mother, before she gave it to Achilles for him to give to a woman he loved.
Neoptolemus's stomach suddenly constricted as he stared at the ring and he instantly knew who the ring must have been for, Princess Polyxena of Troy. Odysseus had told him how Achilles had died, how he had thought he was marrying King Priam's daughter in Troy. He had chosen to push the thought from his mind, hating the idea that his father could love a woman other than his mother, but seeing the ring forced it back in.
Menelaus noticed the sudden change in Neoptolemus's mood and suddenly felt as if they were both alike. He had always lived in his brother's shadow, and Neoptolemus had always been the son of Achilles and felt he had something to prove to live up to peoples' expectations of him because of whom his father was.
"Fresh water has been brought," said Menelaus and pointed to the basin of water, "and there is cloth beside it also. If you would like to wash and join us in my brother's tent for a feast, then you are more than welcome."
Neoptolemus looked at Menelaus for a few moments before speaking. "Thank you." He then watched as Menelaus left the tent before stepping over to the basin and washing.
A chorus of laughter and high spirits could be heard from Agamemnon's tent as Neoptolemus finally reached it. He entered quietly and was greeted by the sight of dancing women circling in the center of the room. He had had little experience with women and so blushed when one of them brushed past him.
"Neoptolemus!" shouted Agamemnon, and paused in his conversion with his brother to greet the man. He was surrounded by Kings of the Aegean, including Odysseus and Menelaus who did not appear in the mood for a feast.
With an aura of shyness around him, Neoptolemus headed towards the head table and sat in the vacant seat beside Menelaus. He was immediately offered various meat and fruit but refused as he was more intrigued with a heated conversation between Menelaus and Agamemnon.
"How do you expect one of us to enter Troy?" argued Menelaus and gripped his goblet of wine even more firmly.
"It can be done, little brother," said Agamemnon irritably, "and as I said earlier, whoever enters Troy will be in disguise."
"As what, a beggar?" Menelaus asked sarcastically.
"Exactly," said Odysseus and sipped at his wine. "Agamemnon and I spoke on the night of Achilles's death and entering Troy in disguise could be quite easy." He drank from his goblet again before speaking. "Trojans are beginning to leave their wall and head into the hills in search of food. If one of us were to head up into the hills and walk back with the Trojans that had gone in the morning, before the fighting, then they could successfully enter Troy with them"
Menelaus looked at Odysseus for a few moments before turning away. He was hurt that Odysseus had been included in the discussion of how to enter Troy when he had not.
"Do you honestly believe this could work, Odysseus?" Menelaus finally asked. He would trust Odysseus with his life and would follow him to the ends of the world if it meant that Helen would be returned to him and the war would end.
"I do," said Odysseus. "If we get inside Troy's walls then we can see if the city has any weaknesses, which may prove to be useful if we wish to win this war."
"Who will go then?" asked Menelaus, inwardly wishing to go in case he saw Helen.
"Odysseus will go," said Agamemnon, even though he saw his brother's desire to go. He would not allow his brother to go because he could not risk the plan being discovered if Menelaus played host to his foolishness, concerning Helen, and try and see her.
Odysseus looked at Agamemnon for a few moments but was not surprised that he had been chosen. He was suitable and able to fulfill the task, yet he was slightly hesitant because he had already been seen in Troy before.
"Thank you, Agamemnon," said Odysseus quietly, "although I cannot help feel that I would be recognised in Troy. If you remember, I entered the city with Menelaus when we first arrived to speak to King Priam."
"I remember," said Agamemnon, his tone annoyed at the implication that he did not remember, "but as you said, you went to speak with King Priam, not the people of Troy who you will no doubt see as you walk in the city to see its layout. You will most likely not see Priam or any other person who could recognise you, and you will also be in disguise."
Odysseus nodded and said no more. He drank from his goblet and soon returned to his tent where he waited for daylight to dawn so he could head up into the hills and wait for the Trojans to come so he could follow them back to their city once they had collected food.
At the light of dawn blazing through her room, Helen finally rose from her bed. She had been awake for hours during the night, constantly tossing and turning because it felt so strange to sleep without Paris beside her.
Even though she had had days to grow accustomed to not having Paris beside her, she found that the unnatural feeling for him not to be there never got easier. She would lay in the center of the bed, waiting for sleep to come to her but it wouldn't. Her mind was too occupied with dwelling over the past, her mistakes and how her life would be now.
She missed Paris, she missed his reassuring presence and she finally realised that she needed a man in her live to survive. She had taken Menelaus for granted, he had always been there if she needed him, and she had also taken Paris for granted, and now that he was gone she realised what she had lost.
Helen slowly walked over to her chest and dressed in the robe which lay over it. She felt sadness overcome her as the robe flowed down across her body like water because Paris had bought this for her. She smiled at the memory of how he would always buy her expensive items, even if gold was scarce, and only now realised that he had bought her such items as a substitute to his love.
She violently tore the robe from her body and threw it in the fire which she had ordered to be alight because she felt cold. She then sunk down to the floor and leant against the bed, entirely naked, and began to cry.
After a few moments she pulled a sheet over her from the bed, but as she wrapped it around her she smelled the scent of Paris and froze. She could not escape him and even though he was dead, his presence was more alive than ever.
Helen finally found herself comfortable in wearing an old robe Menelaus had bought her and which she had worn to Troy. She then left her room, taking one of her handmaidens as her escort before she left the palace, and went to the market place in search of new robes.
The years of war had meant that there were fewer items, such as robes and jewelry, in the market place because the merchants could not trade with those from other lands as the Greeks mainly ruled the shores.
A blissful wind breezed through the market-place as Helen weaved in between the stalls with her handmaiden at her side. She finally halted to a stop when she reached her favourite cloth and merchant at his stall.
"Princess Helen," greeted Euphranor and bowed slightly before her. "I am sorry for you loss. Troy has lost a remarkable man. Prince Paris will be missed and forever in our hearts."
Helen smirked at Euphranor's attempt at being sincere because she knew he was lying to only encourage her to buy something, and she had always suspected that he disliked her also.
"Thank you," she finally said, "but I think the people of Troy will learn to endure Paris's death."
Euphranor looked at Helen, surprised at her reaction. He was quiet for a few moments, unsure of how to break the awkward silence.
"My dear princess," he said gently, "may I be so bold as to show you some new robes that have recently been brought to me?" He then gestured to the new robes and smiled broadly.
Helen did not look at Euphranor; instead her eyes were fixed on a typical-looking beggar man who stood not so far away from her. She saw he was staring at the walls, which she could understand as she had found herself doing the same thing in recent times, but there was something about him which drew her attention to him.
For a few moments Helen watched the man intently. She could partly see his eyes from the angle at which he stood and they looked terribly familiar to her. Then, almost unaware of what she was doing, she stepped closer to the man until she was standing just a few feet behind him.
"Odysseus," she whispered aloud, suddenly realizing who the man was.
The man turned at the gentle whisper of his name and gasped at the sight of Helen. He had held a side of his cloak to just below his eyes but took his hand away from it when he saw Helen; therefore it revealed his entire face.
"By the gods!" cried Helen, which attracted a curious look from her handmaiden who remained at the stall with an equally curious Euphranor. "What are you doing here?"
Odysseus took Helen's hand within his own and led her into a deserted lane so they were out of sight from those in the marketplace. Her handmaiden stayed behind, at her firm orders, and waited at the stall.
"Helen," whispered Odysseus and he tried to speak on but he could not keep his eyes from wandering over her ageless face. He looked to those in the marketplace and gripped her hand more tightly. "Helen …,"
"Why are you here?" interjected Helen, she then looked down to Odysseus's clothes, which made him appear like a beggar and not the king he was. Realization suddenly dawned upon her and a deathly pale veil swam across her face. "You've come …,"
"I've come to see if Troy's walls have any weaknesses," said Odysseus, finishing what he correctly presumed Helen would say. He knew Helen would not reveal his identity to anyone; she was a Greek after all and would not betray him. "The war has lasted too long, Helen, it has to end."
Helen nodded slowly, her eyes slightly wide. She was silent for a few moments, absorbing Odysseus's words and then looked across to her handmaiden and then to him again. "We cannot talk here. I will dismiss my handmaiden, wait here and then I will take you to the palace."
"The palace?" exclaimed Odysseus, incredulously. He could not be seen anywhere near the palace in case he was recognised, and as Helen had already seen through his disguise he felt certain others would too if he did not leave immediately.
"No one will dare question you if you are with me," said Helen hastily, although her doubt showed through her voice. "I have to speak with you, Odysseus, I cannot live here anymore. I need to leave!"
Odysseus was shocked at Helen's words, he had never seen her so anxious or so desperate. She had always controlled her emotions well but the look in her eyes revealed how distressed she had become.
Helen left Odysseus where he was and quickly dismissed her handmaiden, who was confused to be released for the day, but also glad, and then went back to Odysseus and led him to the palace.
Odysseus's heart raced as he was led to and through the palace by Helen. He could not ignore the curious glares of the servants in the palace and deliberately looked away from them, inwardly praying to the gods that no one would recognise him.
As soon as Helen had ushered Odysseus into her chamber, she entered herself and bolted the door shut behind her. She was breathing heavily and held onto the bolt for a few moments before turning to look at Odysseus, who looked petrified and stood in the center of the room.
"I know the war must come to an end," said Helen, her voice almost a whisper. She looked at Odysseus for a few moments, pondering on whether or not to continue, and as she looked at him she saw that he would not judge her words, he needed her help as much as she needed his. "I know the war must end, and I feel that Troy will not be victorious. I cannot remain in Troy for much longer; I have always been hated here but now Paris is dead it seems as if the Trojans are showing their dislike more freely."
Odysseus looked at Helen, now aware of her dilemma. She had never been married to Paris, technically she was still Menelaus's wife, and had never been a true Princess of Troy because of that. Helen had no friends within Troy that would stand by her; she was hated and blamed for the war by the Trojans and with Paris dead she had no one to protect her.
"Would you go back to Menelaus?" asked Odysseus and continued to gaze thoughtfully at Helen. He knew Menelaus would take Helen back without question because, despite all that had happened, he was still madly in love with her, he was infatuated by her.
"Yes," said Helen and she lowered her head in shame because he had been good to her and yet she had betrayed him, and their daughter. She raised her head after a moment and looked at Odysseus. "I was blinded by my love for Paris; I left Menelaus, my country and my daughter for him … and now I know that hundreds of lives were not worth it. Paris did not love me; I don't think he ever did."
"Menelaus would take you back," said Odysseus and he stepped closer to Helen, moved by her words, "he still loves you."
Helen smiled sadly. "I wish I had not left him, he was everything and more that a woman could wish for in a husband and yet I forsook him." She inhaled deeply and felt tears begin to leak from her eyes. "I had to know, Odysseus; I had to go with Paris because if I didn't then I would always wonder what would have happened."
Odysseus took Helen in his arms and comforted her while she wept. He had always thought of Helen more like a sister rather than a lover. He also had Penelope, his wife at home in Ithaca with their son Telemachus, and would never consider loving another woman while he had the one he loved waiting for him.
"Greece will win the war," said Odysseus after a few minutes, "and you will return to Sparta with Menelaus, you will be safe and happy once more. I promise."
Helen pulled away from Odysseus gently and wiped her tears away. "I should not be allowed to be happy; I should be condemned to death for my actions."
"You are not the one controlling the armies of Troy and Greece," said Odysseus, seriously. "If you had not left Sparta with Paris then I still feel certain that a war between Troy and Greece would have eventually taken place, it was inevitable."
Helen said nothing and looked away for a moment to recover her composure. She finally turned to look at Odysseus once more, her face as perfect and dry as ever. "You have to go now; if you stay longer it will arouse even more suspicions."
Odysseus nodded, his fears of being discovered suddenly returning to him.
"I'll lead you out of the palace," said Helen and walked towards the door, "and then you can follow the path to the gates from there." She unbolted the chamber door and led Odysseus through the palace.
Since Hector's death Andromache had taken to staying in the comfort of her chamber, rarely stepping outside its confinement because she feared seeing things, even people, which reminded her of Hector.
The memories of Hector lived among the city of Troy, and even seeing or smelling a particular thing brought back the horror his death to Andromache. She did not wish to burden anyone with her grief and so kept it bottled within her until darkness washed over Troy and then she would succumb to tears as she held Hector's favourite robe because it still retained his scent.
It was not Hector's actual death that tore away at Andromache; it was the bitterness that his life had been cut so short. She had wanted to grow old with him, she wanted to be with him forever and now that he was gone it also meant that her hopes had gone also.
The only thing that kept Andromache alive, that forced her to rise each day, was Astyanax. She would see him lay in his bassinet in the morning, as silent as a mouse because he could feel his mother's grief and did not wish to pain her more, and she would rise and care for him.
Now, after continuous requests from Astyanax, Andromache walked through the halls to the place she feared most, the royal stables. The only other time she had accepted her son's request was on the day that Hector's body had been returned to Troy but after his body returned she decided against going. As the days had passed her fear of going to the stables had grown because the stables were Hector and his horses had been an enormous part of his life for years.
Astyanax smiled broadly when he saw the stables come into sight. He urged his mother to walk faster and as soon as the path to the stables came into view he wriggled free from his mother's arms, his small wooden horse clasped firmly in his hand, and started to run to the path.
Andromache smiled at the sight of her son so happy; she knew then that Hector's love for horses now lived in Astyanax. Her smile soon faded, however, and transformed into a subtle look of anger at the sight of Helen. Her expression changed once more though at the sight of a beggar man following Helen closely.
Helen looked up, alarmed, when she saw Andromache and Astyanax. She carefully looked behind to Odysseus, completely concealed within his disguise, and prayed that Andromache would not recognise him.
"Andromache," greeted Helen and attempted to smile. She had hoped no one would be in this section of the palace, which is why she had chosen to lead Odysseus away from it by the gates near the stables.
Andromache said nothing but instead went after Astyanax and scooped him up into her arms. She held him closely against her, despite his wriggling protests to be let down so he could go to the stables.
Amidst Astyanax's complaints he dropped his wooden horse to the ground and it fell at the feet of Odysseus. Astyanax suddenly went silent and reached out for his horse.
Odysseus looked down to his feet and to the horse. He simply stared at it for a few moments, wondering whether or not he should hand it to the small prince, when he suddenly saw a way into Troy's walls.
As he looked at the wooden toy, Odysseus could see Greeks building a gigantic wooden horse and as he continued to look at it he could see men climbing into it, hiding within it. He saw the horse full of soldiers being pulled into Troy's walls, the Trojans joyfully dancing around it because they thought the war had ended…
A small gasp escaped Odysseus's mouth and he realised that his pulse had quickened dramatically. He looked down to the horse again, expecting to see something else, but only saw Prince Astyanax's toy.
"Horsey!" cried Astyanax and tried to free himself from his mother so he could collect his toy.
Odysseus then slowly bent down and picked the horse up into his hand and then he stepped forward and handed it to the small prince.
Astyanax smiled happily and immediately put the horse in his mouth and began to chew on it. He then rested his head on his mother's chest and sighed happily.
Andromache continued to stare at the beggar man for a few moments and was aware of Helen's anxious face but finally stepped away from them and continued on to the stables. She inhaled deeply before entering the stables and then finally did, seeing countless things that reminded her of Hector, but she did not weep, instead she smiled because she felt closer to him than she ever had since he had died.
Helen watched as Andromache entered the stables and then turned to Odysseus. "She will not question me about you; she rarely speaks to me except when forced to."
Odysseus nodded although he had not taken in Helen's words completely, instead his mind was occupied with what he had seen when he looked at the horse. He then left the palace and finally left the city of Troy and returned to the Greek camp with a plan formed in his mind on how to enter Troy…
A/N: Odysseus did enter Troy in the disguise of a beggar and he was recognised by Helen. What I've not included in this, however, is that Odysseus, with the help of Helen, stole the Palladium from Troy. The Palladium is a wooden statue that was said to have fallen from heaven, and as long as it was preserved the city would be safe. I've not included the palladium before so I decided not to include it now. Thank you for all of the reviews too :)
Kal's Gal – Everyone is dying and I'm afraid to say that more will die in the coming chapters. Thank you for the review and I'll definitely keep going :)
Lady C – I'm glad you like this and I'm glad you liked the portrayal of grief. What Neoptolemus will do to win the war will be shown in coming chapters, and his name is certainly a tongue turner. Thank you for the review :)
Lily – I'm glad that you're learning new things by reading this; I think the Trojan War is a great thing to learn about. I'm afraid Oenone will not have a proper funeral in this, sorry :( Thank you for the review :)
Gaby – Thank you for the review and I'm glad you liked the last chapter :)
Idun03 – I will show what happens to each character after the fall of Troy, although I've not decided how I'll do it yet but it is planned. Thank you for the review! I'm glad that you would like me to continue on, that's lovely, thanks :)
Caz-jket – I'm sorry you waited for a long time for the last chapter, I'm writing quite fast at the moment so I'll try and get the updates out faster. I'm sure you don't have a terrible imagination, and thank you for the review :)
Priestess of the Myrmidon – You've no need to apologise for enjoying Paris's death, I can understand :) I'm glad you liked the last chapter and preferred how I chose for Oenone to die, thanks and thank you for the review!
Queen Arwen – I think you do have a heart; it's just that you're not particularly fond of Paris which I can understand. I'm glad you liked the last chapter, especially the characterization of Neoptolemus, and thank you for the review :)
Kitera – Thank you, I'm glad you liked the last chapter. I'll try and update more often and thank you for the review :)