Abduction of A Princess
By: Sheiado

Author's Note: Well, it is getting there! LoL. Achilles will be showing up rather soon and he'll have more of an appearance in the next coming chapters. Yes, I know what ya'll are thinkin' (lmao) FINALLY! Hey, I'm tryin' here and this will prolly be a rather long story! grins. Anywayz, thanks to all my reviewers 'cause you guys all ROCK! So, pwease R&R?!

Chapter Six: Prizes to Warriors

The course of one's own life can change, can realistically shift and take form into a new outcome. It can transcend by one's own simple action, decision, or by a mere utterance of a single given word. Her decision to follow Lalianes had been one, though filled with immense dread, of great importance. It was a choice that she knew would ultimately come to mold her future and her own life's fate. Terrible events were to transpire, her fear was to be tested by its limits, and Briseis now began to realize that her dream had indeed been right and strangely full of truth all along. Her life wouldn't get any easier, but how she went was to be guided by her hand and her hand alone.

She found herself on a journey aboard ship for three weeks, almost a month, and was gradually becoming familiar with the continual rocking of the merchant vessel, "Potnia". Familiarity of movement began to soothe her, calm the storm of raging emotions within her heart, and Briseis soon found herself able to rest easy. The gentle swaying that had once made her stomach tie in sickly knots had now altered to a comforting and alluring lull. It had been so long since she had last been at sea alone, without her family. Now she was traveling with slaves, soon-to-be victims of a denominating and oppressive king.

Briseis had to admit, however, that they were kept in surprisingly fine conditions for a group of slave women. They were given food, water, clean clothes to wear, and a small adjoining washroom next to their sleeping quarters. Agamemnon had obviously wanted all women healthy and clean before breeching land, for the ship had come well prepared for their reception and he would not have treated them with such fair extravagance if he wished otherwise. They could have arrived to his new lands starved, beaten, and soiled.

The muffled news of land, shouts of excitement, and cluttering above deck gave Briseis a feeling
of deep relief. They would be off this tub soon!

Her small moment of joy was fleeting, for it was quickly diminished when the overseer instructed them to remain below deck, informing them rather curtly that they would not be allowed up until nightfall. "Until that time, ladies," he spat from above, his bald head outlined by the blazing sun as his greasy features leered from the top hatch. "Make yourselves presentable!"

Cries of panic, whimpers of utter terror, wailed almost instantly from the simpering women around her. Briseis glared hotly as she tried to stare down the disgusting, dog of a man, from her rigid position against the wall.

His cocky smile disappeared as he noticed her penetrating stare. "You especially, Wench!" he sneered, "Aboard this ship you have caused me the most aggravation. I hope Agamemnon remedies that spitfire attitude! See then how long that spirit of yours lasts, girl!"

The sturdy, wooden board was slammed fimly back into its place by the fuming man, replenishing the room back to a soft, dim glow of candlelight. The hollow clank of the dead bolt echoed harshly into her ears and the seething form of Briseis turned, her gaze now focused on the petrified, trembling young women at her side.

Agamemnon's reputation of cruelty was well-known, even among slaves, and Briseis realized that out of all the terrified there, she would have to remain the strongest of them all. She had been bunked with eleven other women, including Lalianes, and all were very young and innocent. Most were new girls to Lord Creceden, untouched maidens taken into slavery alike to herself. From her estimation, she and Lalianes were among the oldest on board; the others were no older than twenty.

Sighing heavily, Briseis announced in a voice of authority, "Alright, ladies, let us prepare and attend to ourselves. There isn't any sense standing about and fussing."

Her and Lalianes, despite dread of their own individual fates, were placed to position of leaders. No one, not even her, would likely come out of this "adventure" unscathed; all would meet a similar demise outside ship, and Briseis felt it.

'Gods help us,'she pleaded silently, her brown eyes softening at the tearful, frightened faces of those around her. It would be a long night for them all…

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Night had fallen and Briseis found herself being led in a line procession of women, hands tied, toward an isolated area of a beach. At the front, on the lead, were both the overseer and the advisor of King Agamemnon, two men with both similar revolting characteristics. Their small group of twelve had been individually inspected, Briseis more so than the other women, for the overseer liked nothing more than to taunt and humiliate her. The man was utterly despicable.

"A shame for a pretty one like you," he had snickered cruelly, his dirty hands touching and
groping her lithe body in silent enjoyment. "You'll be broken come time by dawn."

Briseis gritted her teeth, holding back the urge she had to curse and kick at the bald-headed weasel of a man...

"If the time ever comes for it," Briseis threatened to him calmly, "I swear you're going to wish you had never touched me."

The overseer cackled in reply. "I don't think you are in a favorable position to make threats, Wench, especially to whom you will soon be given to."

Her mood of bravo had all too soon dissipated when they had passed through the army encampment, the worst area that was sauntered through with a feeling of deep unease and silent panic. Briseis had kept her eyes downcast throughout the journey, purposefully ignoring the cat calls, low whistles, and lecherous stares given by the soldiers of King Agamemnon. The silence was uncomfortable, almost torturous, and some girls would whimper and cower together in fear, whispering amongst themselves. As they preceded forward, kicking and marching through the cooling sands, Briseis began to feel her heart pound heavily in protest.

'Too many men,' she thought to herself, shivering unconsciously, 'too few of us…'

Boisterous laughter echoed and wine poured, an obvious sign that a victory feast was being hosted in the midst of this soon-to-be conquered land. In truth, the more sounds she heard, the more suspicious and uneasy Briseis became. Her confidence was deeply dwindling.

They turned to where small surrounding brushes of trees were located and it was then that Briseis caught glimpse of their intended destination. The torch lights gleamed and flickered out to her in the darkness, its serene glow circling enticingly around a large, bulky tent. It could not have been the king's, for beyond it a larger one stood. It was one that provided a place of meeting between the king, his warlords, and other high ranking officials beneath him. Her assumption could not have been wrong for the tent was far too active to provide as sleeping quarters for a high king of Greece.

The quiet night and salty sea air provided small nourishment to her already rattled nerves, but it was not enough to sustain the hidden fear Briseis felt boiling underneath. She kept her face a blank mask, eyes cold and emotionless, as she refused to cower or tremble in the presence of neither any Greek nor any man. She would not give in to such a temptation, never in front of these men.

Lalianes walked at her side, casting nervous glances of apprehension and visibly trembling at the trailing sound of drunken, blithe laughter. Briseis took pity on her. "Try and be strong," she whispered, "show no fear for they thrive on weakness."

She tried to keep her voice as even and devoid of the overwhelming terror she began to feel quelling within the pit of her stomach. They were nearing closer. 'Closer to our own doom,'/i she thought bitterly, 'Gods be merciful!'

She had to be brave and be calm and not just for the sake of retaining her dignity. She might very well have dire need of her own wits and resourcefulness.

"I know. But I am so afraid, My Lady," Lilianes replied, almost inaudibly. Her hands visibly trembled and wringed at her skirts nervously.

"As am I, Lalianes," Briseis admitted softly. Her eyes softened as she looked back at the woman, her gaze clashing with hers. Lalianes gave her a fleeting, brave smile in response.

"Aye."

Leers and whistles followed them in admiration as they lined up to enter the tent. Practically the whole Greek army watched them from outside, grinning madly and lustfully at their backs. The gazes of desire were also no doubt directed with a twinge of envy, envy towards the men who would gain such beauties in their bed.

The tent was large and lavish with deep coated furs and animal pelts that hung along the tent walls, likely for comfort and shade from the scorching heat of the sun. Within the center Briseis saw two large, oak tables, surrounded by drunken men of high stature. Some appeared as kings, both young and old, while others were warlords, men at the ready with their swords sharpened and strapped to their backs. Agamemnon's most prized warriors.

"Men, I have an announcement to make!"

The high king was easily recognizable. She had caught glimpse of his appearance at the celebration of his daughter's wedding in Mycenae, even though she had never, in truth, met the man face to face before. And his arrogance as a ruler for certain gave his status away in mere moments. He stood before a large bronze chair, almost suitable for a throne, and gestured toward their small group of women.

They were pushed to the front by the overseer and Briseis let her eyes wander back toward the familiar, foreboding presence of the high king as silence grew among the men. She felt her heart plummet as he announced coolly, "I have made a promise that I intend to keep-"

He was surely a monster if he had plans to give the handful of them to a whole army of lustful men. They all fell silent, both from the king's booming voice and the notice of their female company. She frowned at the sudden gazes of desire that raked along her flesh, eyes that calculated her like a newfound prey. For a moment, Briseis almost faltered, nearly allowing her exterior to melt for she begged in silence for the aid of her brave cousin, 'Gods, this gets worse! Hector, where are you when I have need of you the most…?!'

"-Ten women to be given to my ten best warriors!"

Oh Gods…

The men cheered. "This victory," Agamemnon continued, "deserves a treat for all my best. I will make my decision and will call each in turn tonight to retrieve one of these most prized beauties!"

There were twelve of them, Briseis concluded somberly, and that meant that while ten would go to his warlords and soldiers, two would go to the king himself. The smile on his face as he made the announcement unnerved her and Briseis made a solemn vow in silence; she would never submit to becoming a bedmate to the filthy, swine of a king before her. She would rather suffer death than go through the humiliation and degradation that would no doubt have effect and befall her if she were to indeed return as her previous standing in Troy. There was no doubt in her mind that if she were able to return to Troy as their princess, the high King would be boastful, divulging in deflowering a daughter of Troy.

'Death first,' she vowed.

More to Come! Please read and review!