The sun had begun to set when Odysseus finally returned to the Greek camp. His feet were weary from his exhausting journey, yet his heart had never felt more alive because the prospect of defeating Troy was now so close.
A loud cheer erupted within the Greek camp when the soldiers saw that Odysseus had returned to them safely. Many of them had silently prayed during Odysseus's absence because they knew if he could not find a way to defeat Troy, then no one could.
The Kings of the Aegean had convened in Agamemnon's tent to discuss what to do if Odysseus could find no flaws in Troy's structure. Each of them had been anxious since Odysseus's departure earlier that day because this was their only hope, the war had to end now, it could not go on for much longer.
Odysseus pulled his disguise from his body to reveal a pale green robe beneath. He drank from a cup one which of his men offered him and then walked towards the Kings of the Aegean, who now stood outside Agamemnon's tent to greet him.
"Do you bring good news, Odysseus?" Agamemnon asked. The corners of his mouth curled upwards at the satisfied look on Odysseus's face and he gestured for his friend to enter the tent.
Agamemnon, followed by the other Kings of the Aegean, followed Odysseus into his tent. He took his place in his throne; a smile still spread across his aging face, and looked to Odysseus who now sat in a chair a few feet to the left of him.
Odysseus waited for all the kings to enter and be seated, and then he looked at each of them in turn. He could see that every one of them wished the war to end so they could return to their families and homes, but he also saw that they wanted to win the war, they wanted to justify ten years of being in Troy by winning.
"Troy's walls are perfectly structured, their walls cannot be breached and it has no weaknesses." Odysseus finally said, and as he spoke he could see the hope from each mans' eyes, except Agamemnon's, fade.
"However," continued Odysseus, speaking quietly and slowly, "I have found another way to enter Troy's walls."
A murmur of excitement rushed through the tent and the faded hope was revived. They had all prayed for victory, had desired to taste the sweetness of winning a war after battling for ten years, and it seemed that their prayers were finally being answered.
"What way have you found?" asked Menelaus, his tone somewhat skeptical. He knew if someone were to find a way to end the war then it would be Odysseus, but after ten years of war he could not help but feel doubtful of ways to end it after it had lasted for so long.
"We shall enter Troy by hiding within a wooden horse," said Odysseus and looked to all of the kings. "A horse so great that it will make the Trojans believe we have left their shores and left it as a gift to the gods!"
Confusion and doubt swept over the faces of many of the kings, and they each stared at Odysseus, thinking he had gone mad. They all thought that such a horse could not be built, and certainly not a horse that could conceal soldiers.
"That is madness, Odysseus!" Menelaus exclaimed. He was breathing heavily and only now noticed that his hand was firmly gripped around his sword.
"Do you propose another way to enter Troy, dear brother?" Agamemnon asked, his eyes narrowing in anger. He had lost all patience with his brother's irrational behavior and was beginning to understand why Helen had left him.
Menelaus fell silent and tightened his grip on his sword but said nothing.
"This may seem like madness, my friends," said Odysseus, an obvious note of annoyance in his voice, "but it is genius."
Odysseus then carefully explained, to his intrigued audience, of how a magnificent wooden horse would be built. A horse so great in structure that it would hold a small group of men, and fool the Trojans into thinking they had fled and left it to appease the gods into allowing them a safe journey home…
With the moonlight and various beacons as their only light, the Greek soldiers began to build the great wooden horse Odysseus had spoken of. Epeius, a renowned architect and warrior, was left with the power of designing the horse while Odysseus supervised.
While some men slunk off into the shadows of the night, up into the hills to collect timber for the horse, Menelaus stayed behind and watched the building of it. He watched as the men worked furiously, with such enthusiasm that he had not seen within their eyes since the first day of battle.
He saw Neoptolemus looking out to the sea, the water lapping at his feet, and walked over to him. Menelaus could see that Neoptolemus's mind was filled with thought, as was his, but decided to intrude upon him, as the thought of quelling his troubles came to him.
"It is an unusually cold night," stated Menelaus as he stepped beside Neoptolemus. He saw Neoptolemus's body jerk with fright slightly and wondered, like the other soldiers, how Achilles had ever fathered a son so different from how he had been.
"I will have to take your word for it," said Neoptolemus and smiled slightly. His time in Troy had been short, he had not even fought yet as Agamemnon preferred for him to study how the battles commenced before actually taking part.
Menelaus smiled, but it soon faded and he rubbed his brow gently. "News has been brought to me today of my daughter Hermione."
"I hope she is well," said Neoptolemus and he turned his head to look at Menelaus. He thought that, by the look on Menelaus's face, it was ill news.
"Oh yes, she is very well," said Menelaus and he stared out to the sea. He had not seen Hermione for years, not only had she been abandoned in the care of nurses and servants by her mother, but also by her father.
"I am glad of it," said Neoptolemus, his voice sincere. He had never met Hermione and had heard little of her, but he did feel as if they had something in common as they had both spent rare amounts of time with one of their parents, and in her case, both parents.
"Thank you," said Menelaus, and his voice showed that he wished to say more. He had been considering what he was about to say for some time now, since the arrival of Neoptolemus in fact. "My daughter is now fifteen and ready to be married, I have had news today that there are men already wishing to take her hand in marriage."
Neoptolemus continued to look at Menelaus thoughtfully, wondering why he was being told this. He did not mind being informed with such matters that were personal to Menelaus, yet he felt there was more to the situation that had not been said yet.
"As I am not in Sparta and do not know when I will return there," continued Menelaus, "I cannot meet my daughter's suitors and I feel uncomfortable entrusting someone else to meet the men and choose which of them should be her husband." He then looked across to Neoptolemus. "I know you have never met my daughter and have probably not thought of her before now, but I would consider it a great honour, as would she, if you would marry her."
Neoptolemus continued to stare at Menelaus for a few moments and then turned away, in surprise. He had never imagined Menelaus would suggest such a thing, especially not to him as he felt somewhat unworthy to ever marry such a girl.
"I am speechless," said Neoptolemus, after he had taken a few moments to register Menelaus's words. He turned to look at Menelaus once more and nodded slowly, unable to reject a man he considered a friend. "Of course, King Menelaus, I would be more than honoured to marry your daughter."
"Thank you," said Menelaus happily and a true smile widened across his face. He suddenly felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders to know that Hermione would be married to a man like Neoptolemus.
Neoptolemus said nothing, unsure of what to say. He knew he must marry someday; he would need an heir as all men did, but he had never thought he would find marriage when at war in Troy, and he smiled slightly.
The cold morning air rushed through Helen's balcony and chilled her bare arms as she sat in front of a burning fire in her chamber. She moved slightly in her chair and wrapped a thick shawl around her arms, but she still felt cold.
Since leading Odysseus safely from the palace, she had remained in her chamber alone. Her mind was filled with thoughts of how she could leave Troy and she wondered if Odysseus would remain true to his word, that she would actually return to Sparta with Menelaus and be happy.
Troy no longer held any happiness for Helen. Paris had died and now she was alone, surrounded by people who hated her. Everywhere she turned she faced the shame of what she had done, by looking into the faces of those who had suffered from the war.
There was not one within Troy who was untouched by the war; everyone had their own story of grief to tell. Paris was now dead and they did not dare to attack the Greeks with their pain, so instead they attacked Helen by making her see their pain.
As thoughts of returning to Sparta swirled through Helen's mind, she began to think of her daughter, Hermione. She rarely thought of her daughter, not because she did not love her, but because it pained her too much to think that she had left her.
Helen knew that Hermione was now fifteen years old, an age ripe for marriage. She could imagine suitors from distant lands vying for her daughter's hand and smiled sadly. She wished she could be there to greet them as they came but knew she had no right when she had left Hermione for the love of a man. She wondered how Menelaus would pick a man when he was here in Troy, but her thoughts were soon broken when she heard a soft knock on her door.
"Enter," shouted Helen, her voice echoing in the lifeless chamber. She turned her head slightly to see a young servant girl walk towards her, a scroll tightly enclosed within her hand, and reached out for it.
"This is for you, my lady," said the girl and bowed slightly before Helen. "It was given to a guard at the main gates."
Helen looked up to the servant, a puzzled look on her face. She took the scroll from the girl's hand but did not read it. "Who gave it to the guard?" Her voice sounded casual, yet her mind was drowning in curiosity.
"I believe it was a young man who had come from the hills," said the girl. "I think the guard thought it was someone from Mount Ida, but I am not sure."
Helen nodded slowly, her first thought was that it was from Oenone, as she knew no one else there, but then she remembered that Oenone was dead. "Thank you, you may go now."
The servant bowed in front of Helen again and then quickly departed from the chamber, closing the door quietly behind her.
For a few moments Helen simply stared at the scroll, her heart beginning to race with excitement and dread. She finally tore the scroll open and immediately recognised the neat writing of Odysseus.
Her eyes furiously scanned the scroll three times before she began to absorb the words Odysseus had sent her. She dropped the scroll to the floor in shock, shocked at what Odysseus asked of her.
It was only after the echo of the scroll hitting the hard, stone floor stopped that she considered whether or not someone else could have read it. She looked down to it and remembered that the seal of Odysseus, which he used for informal matters and which only a select few recognised, had been intact when she had taken it from the servant.
She knew that if someone had read the contents of the scroll then they would have immediately taken her and interrogated her on every word, and as that had not happened she felt comfortable to believe it would not.
As that fear passed her, however, she began to fear what Odysseus had asked her to do…
The distinct sound of the war horns echoed throughout the city of Troy and Andromache awoke at their call. She leapt from her bed and rushed out to the balcony to see what had caused them so sound once more, as they had not rung since Paris had died.
Andromache saw hundreds of Trojans running towards the gates of Troy. They ran so fast it appeared that they were fleeing from some great fear, yet the fear they had dreaded had always been outside Troy's gates and now they freely rushed to it.
The door to Andromache's chamber burst open and Xanthe entered the room. She quickly looked around the chamber for Andromache but then saw she stood out on the balcony and went to her.
"Andromache!" panted Xanthe and clutched onto her chest as she exhaled heavily. "The Greeks have gone. They've gone!"
Andromache sharply turned her head towards Xanthe. She shook her head slowly, unable to believe that what she had hoped for was true.
"I heard it from the guards myself," exclaimed Xanthe, "they told me that the Greeks had fled but that they had left something, I am unsure of what."
"They have gone?" stuttered Andromache, still frightened of believing what her heart desired because she thought if she accepted it then it would turn out to be a cruel joke. She looked into Xanthe's eyes, the eyes she had trusted for longer than she could remember, and gasped because she knew her friend spoke the truth.
"I know no more than I have told you," said Xanthe. "I heard the news from the guards and then rushed to tell you as soon as I could. I think King Priam has gone down to their camp, I heard Helen went also."
Andromache noticed that Xanthe no longer addressed Helen as princess; she had noticed that this had begun since Paris's death but did not reproach her. She looked at Xanthe once more and then out to the city, which seemed like chaos with Trojans all rushing towards the gates.
"Xanthe, please stay here with Astyanax," said Andromache and she stepped back into her chamber. She had once again slept in the peplos she had worn the day before and so quickly wrapped a shawl around her bare arms before kissing her son's head as he slept, despite the noise, and left the chamber.
Andromache rushed to the entrance hall and a guard was able to take her on a chariot to the scene that had aroused such chaos.
The gates of Troy were wide open to allow the Trojans to flood through them as they raced out onto the plain. It seemed as if no one knew how to react, many not wishing to believe that the Greeks had really left in case it was not true. They had forgotten their old lives of how they had lived in happiness, how they had basked in the glorious sunlight on the beach of Troy, how they had once lived without fear, and could no not believe their old lives may be returned to them.
A loud gasp escaped Andromache's mouth as the chariot left the walls of Troy and raced on across the plain. There, in the distance, she could see a great wooden horse, a horse so tall and proud that she felt it could even invoke fear within a god's heart.
The guard, standing beside Andromache on the chariot, steadied to a halt by a small group of chariots which had gathered near the horse. He quickly stepped off the chariot and then went to help Andromache but she was already heading towards the king and the others that surrounded the horse, which stood near to the burnt tents of the Greeks.
Once Andromache reached Priam's side she found she could not speak. She felt as if her chest had suddenly constricted when faced with the enormous horse and was speechless, astounded at its size.
"What is it?" Andromache finally whispered, choosing to speak quietly because she did not wish to disturb the silence that now surrounded the great horse.
"An offering to the gods, Princess Andromache," answered Archeptolemus, an Elder of Troy, his voice equally as quiet. "The Greeks have left our shores and offer this to the gods for a safe journey home."
"Why have the Greeks left now?" Priam wondered aloud and he also stared up to the horse in amazement.
"They must have been threatened by the gods," answered Archeptolemus and stared at the horse in awe, "if they did not leave then they would be cursed. I am surprised it has not happened sooner, but the gods' timing is the best."
Andromache did not question Archeptolemus on how he knew all of this, correctly assuming that he was only well versed in great offerings to the gods, but she did look to her father-in-law with a questioning look. "You intend to burn it, don't you? You cannot allow this to remain here."
"It's a gift to the gods!" exclaimed Archeptolemus, shocked that the princess could suggest such a thing.
"It is a gift from the Greeks!" snarled Andromache and she turned to look at the other Elder's of Troy. She wished Hector was with her as she spoke; he would have encouraged her instead of giving her glaring looks as if she were stupid like many of the Elders did. "Have you all forgotten what the Greeks did to us, how they killed the lives of hundreds … including the life of Hector, of Paris and countless other men!"
"Andromache," whispered Priam and he gently placed a hand on her arm. He could sense that she was upset, although she revealed no sign of it to anyone else, and knew that she was right in wishing to burn the horse because of what the creators of it had caused, but he would not risk angering the gods and causing more pain to his people.
The king looked to his Elders and the many faces that surrounded the horse. "This horse is a gift to the gods. It is a gift by the Greeks, but I will not risk angering the gods and risking the lives of my people in burning it." He ignored the angered look sweeping over Andromache's face and continued on. "The horse shall be brought into our city and honoured. By doing so we will be respecting the gods, not the Greeks."
Andromache looked up again at the horse and even though she could see nothing peculiar or suspicious in its structure, she felt as if dozens of eyes were watching her and she felt a shudder ripple down her spine. She slowly turned away, amazed yet disgusted by the horse, and returned to the chariot and to the palace.
Though Andromache was unaware of it, Helen also quickly left the scene surrounding the horse and returned to her chamber. She had felt like crying aloud with guilt when she saw the horse because she knew that Odysseus's great plan had begun to take effect…
A/N: The horse was said to be left to appease the Goddess Athena because Odysseus had stolen the palladium, and to grant the Greeks a safe return home. I've said that the horse was for the gods, not only Athena, as I've not included the palladium. Also, there was a man called Sinon, sometimes referred to as Odysseus's cousin, who was by the horse when the Trojans found it. He basically told the Trojans to take the horse into the city as it was an offering to the gods by the Greeks. I've not included him in this, only because someone else will do what he would have done in Troy. Thank you for the reviews too :)
Queen Arwen – I miss Hector too, I really miss writing him. I'm glad that you continue to like this, and the characterization of Neoptolemus and how Andromache is coping. Thank you for the review too :)
Hecuba2 – I'm afraid that I won't be able to fulfill you're request, I'm so sorry. I've planned how I'm going to end this for a while now and I want to remain faithful to what really happened, or as much as I can and have. Thank you for the review :)
Priestess of the Myrmidon – Thank you for the review and you're not stupid :) I'm glad you liked the last chapter and I'm pleased you continue to like this, thanks!
Kcrane – Helen is definitely more likeable in the movie, although that's because the movie wasn't very close to the book. Andromache and Astyanax will meet the same end as in the myth, and thank you for the review and I'm glad you liked the last chapter :)
Kal's Gal – Thank you for the review, and I will keep going :)
Kitera – I'm glad you liked the last chapter, thank you :) Helen certainly isn't very nice at the moment, and I think many of you will dislike her even more once this has finished.
Caz-jket – Astyanax is cute, especially in my mind. I haven't covered him in this as much as I should have, but there's just so much to get in, lol. Thank you for the review :)
Gaby – Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter :) It is sad to see Andromache upset, and she is different from how she was with Hector. Thank you for the review!
Coz – Have a nice holiday, I hope you enjoy it :) I'm glad you like this, thank you! And thank you for the review and for thinking this should be a movie :)