Author's Note: Thank you to my reviewers! I was gonna write this out with Achilles in the chapter but I started writing a different scene. So... I'm posting two chapters at once! YAY! One to get by with what I want and what... everyone has been anxiously awaiting for! Grin. FINALLY! No?
Chapter Seven: Wild Spirits
She hated the ways of men and their methods of degrading women for their own benefit and pleasure. Thus far in her experiences outside of Troy and as a slave of low, societal station, she had witnessed nothing but cruelty, greed, barbarism, abuse in power, and all else which can be found in fault of the opposite gender. She knew better than to assume the worst was found only in the form of Grecian bloodline, for all men possessed it and Briseis feared not to admit it. Men brought out the worst primal qualities in human nature and it mattered not if they were civilized or barbaric in culture.
She despised Greeks the more she got to observe and know them and as she was led to the next tent, Agamemnon's tent, Briseis began to feel herself tremble with overwhelming rage. She screamed inwardly at the unfairness and injustice of it all, at the pain and humiliation which would no doubt befall the eleven at her side, and at the broken hearts left behind from domination and enslavement. The reality of life was a harsh one and the evil of men made it even more so.
Their small procession stood in silence, lined for inspection by the high king and his weasel of an advisor. The overseer watched from the entrance, his eyes smiling as Briseis glowered and nervously fidgeted with her bounds behind her back.
"They're all fine beauties, My Lord, and most pure. Lord Creceden had thus vowed himself that they were chaste and untouched."
The high king's lips contorted into a frown of disbelief, his eyes flaunting his skepticism and disinterest at the advisor's quiet assurance. "Hmm? I am unsure if I can really go by faith of the man's word. He has lied to me on numerous occasions before, "Agamemnon replied smoothly, "but… they do look very entertaining…"
His eyes glazed over as he looked over each girl lustfully, his hand groping and touching, enjoying the simpers elicited out of each in fear of his dominance. "This one…? Marvelous," he purred, his eyes gleaming. The girl could be no older than eighteen for she was youthful but well-developed for a young woman. The girl swallowed nervously, her eyes widening and her body paralyzing upon the king's degrading ministrations. "I'll take her."
Briseis took pity upon the young girl; she was far too young for such an experience. In fact, many of them were…
He passed, unfazed, by Lalianes, who breathed a sigh of silent relief, and two others before stopping and facing Briseis herself. "very lovely," he admired, his thick and greasy hands reaching to caress the locks of her hair.
His other hand reached from head to chest instantly, seeking the silky contact of flesh beyond the soft folds of her gown. His fat fingers grasped and kneaded, causing Briseis to shrink back at the dishonoring action.
'Pig,' she cursed inwardly, rage taking over. She reacted on instinct and spat upon him, uncaring at the strike of the high king's heavy hand. He remained unsatisfied and slapped her again, his palm connecting to her cheek for a second time with a resounding 'smack!' "Bitch!" He breathed, angered at the insult.
Briseis felt herself stumble from the impact and suddenly felt two strong hands grip her arms with sheer, bruising force. The overseer held her with contempt and a twinge of fear, his voice stammering, "I b-beg your pardon, M-My Lord. She has been the most trouble aboard-"
"Silence!" Agamemnon shouted, wiping his face silently and with an expression of pure hatred and disgust. Briseis smiled inwardly, a feeling of grim satisfaction overcoming her despite the lingering throbbing upon the flesh of her soft cheek.
Agamemnon glowered at her through the slits of his eyes. "I will teach you a lesson of obedience, girl," he hissed vehemently. Briseis glared defiantly back at him in reply.
"This one," he announced to his men, his eyes still on her "will go to Achilles. Let us see how her willful and rebellious nature fares to his. I cannot afford to have one girl short and seeing that she is the most disobedient, we will give her to the man that matches her character."
His gaze quickly flashed onto his men. "Pedotie! Give the girl to the Myrmidon, Eudorus. Inform him that the girl is a prize reserved specifically for his lord and commander."
"Aye, My Lord."
Briseis swallowed nervously but kept her emotions of anguish carefully concealed, her eyes moving from the disgusting presence of the king to her only friend and companion. Lalianes gazed at her sorrowfully; her eyes full of raw panic and fear. Briseis knew she wished to run to her, to find comfort in the familiarity of a friend's embrace, but could not in fear of punishment. The woman was terrified, both for herself and for Briseis. It was all apparent within the pools of her soulful, grey eyes.
'Be strong,' Briseis mouthed, her attention pulled unwillingly back to the king as the overseer began to drag her away.
"You are a convenience, little one. I should thank Achilles for ridding me of a female pestilence and you for being one worth giving my best and most insolent warlord to. Let us see if your spirited nature remains intact after this little exchange."
Agamemnon snickered scathingly, watching with wry amusement as Briseis was hauled forcefully, cursing and screaming, out of his tent.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
Flames of torchlights licked the air, moving in gentle lapping motions, to cast eerie shadows along the enclosing wall of Troy's gardens. The intense glow illuminated her surroundings, bathing the trees and flowers in soft, sparking colours of reds and oranges. All of it glimmered in prosperous beauty, showing off its riches for all eyes to see. Briseis, her supple form covered in the robes of her homeland, walked in observant silence.
"You have returned, cousin."
She gasped, startled at the unexpected intrusion. Her soft, purple skirts rustled in cadence with her movements as she whirled to face him, her gaze softening. "Yes, Hector. I have."
His eyes bore into hers with a look of sadness, his face crumbling. "You should not," he replied sorrowfully. "You have been marked as a slave of Greece. You are slave to a king, a powerful king and now to a powerful warrior. Would you dare return marked, unpure, and of low-standing to our family? You will bring shame upon us. Father will keep you caged, a life of solitude alike to Cassandra."
Briseis hitched a breath, tears stinging her eyes. His words hurt her more than he would ever know... "Hector, how can you say such things to me? Had I not been forced to go along, my purity would remain intact and I would still have my happiness. I am most assuredly not Cassandra! I have not gone mad and I refuse to die in such a manner as she. Please accept me for who you know me to be and not what I've become?! I beg you! You are my brother in heart, if not by blood," she begged softly, "Please do not renounce me..."
She wept openly now and sank to her knees in helplessness. This could not be... 'Hector would never abandon me purposely...'
"I love you Briseis, but you are now his. Let him have you, as he will wish not to loose you easily, for you are no longer welcome here."
"Hector-"
"Goodbye, my beloved cousin. My baby sister." His voice was fading, along with his presence, into a heavy void of darkness, leaving the weeping woman alone to her despair.
"HECTOR! PLEASE, NO!" Briseis screamed, tears pouring heavily down her cheeks as she reached out for him. She was utterly defeated and deserted. Empty. "Hector..."
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