Abduction Of A Princess
By: Sheiado

Author's Note: Yep, the villain has returned! And has arrived quite unexpectedly, might I add! Tee hee!

Chapter Twelve: Dangers of a Camp Intrusion

He leered at her in appreciation, his eyes raking up and down her body hungrily as his lips twitched and his feet moved slowly forward like a determined predator. "Yes, I remember you well…" he spoke audaciously.

Briseis prolonged his impending approach as much as possible, her body inching backward as her mind worked at a frantic rate. "You are not supposed to be here," She sneered, "You are of Agamemnon's army."

He grinned wolfishly. "Aye, but what does that matter?"

"You are in the Myrmidon camp and in their leader's tent. You dare to come here for me? Do you have a death wish?"

She kept her voice icy and flat, her heart pounding in her ears as she realized with a final, doomed certainty that she was indeed trapped and with no chance to run an escape. She tried to gaze around the room for a weapon, cursing silently when she noticed that he was blocking that path as well. 'Damn,' she cursed silently, her eyes moving back to gaze at the potential danger slowly approaching her.

"I am a warlord just as this man is," he hissed scathingly, "His stories are the equivalent of wives' tales. I fear no one, especially no man! He has defied Agamemnon far more than I and he receives one of my best women for his impudence?! I shall have you before him!"

Briseis glared. "I am not, nor have I ever been, your woman. And seeing that I don't belong to you, you should leave before you are castrated."

"An idle threat from a feeble slave woman," Creceden replied, his smile growing, "I like your spirit, Maenra."

Briseis glowered at his words. "That is not my name and I would advise you to stay away from me."

"That, My Lady, I shall not do."

It took only a few long strides to reach her, but Briseis was prepared for him. She refused to submit to anyone out of fear, especially this man. She extended her left fist abruptly, curving her arm to hook him square in the jaw and moved inward to knee him in the groin. She didn't come out of his grasp in time, however, for he grabbed her by the hair and quickly overpowered her.

Tears stung her eyes at his vicious grasp upon her raven locks and Briseis cried out as she was flung bonelessly onto the floor. "Now, let us see if you are just as pleasurable as you look..."

"No!" Using years of experience with wrestling around with her cousins, Briseis locked her left foot around his ankle, striking swiftly with her right foot toward his outer thigh. She got the desired outcome, for his feet was kicked out expertly from beneath him.

Creceden cried out in surprise as he toppled unceremoniously onto the floor, his face and torso wide open for an attack. Briseis wasted no time in using the vulnerable moment of opportunity and so, swung her leg out to kick him square in the face, her lips curving into a satisfied smile as she heard the abrupt crunching of bones beneath her feet. A nose was broken.

"BITCH!" He screeched, his fingers grasping around his face and nose; where thick crimson liquid oozed from the injury of his nostrils.

Briseis immediately scrambled from the floor to the entrance; close.... but not close enough. The injury appeared only to increase the warlord's fury and adrenaline, for the man instantly got up upon her prompt attempt at escape and charged forward. His strong, thick hands grasped the flesh of her waist firmly, his arms propelling her backward. "Not so fast, woman!"

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

Achilles sighed at the state of Agamemnon's men, plundering and acting as if they were mere children arguing over spoils. He had not come to this land out of dedication for the man who crowned himself "high king" of Greece, but only out of mere need to experience more battle; to unleash his itch of fighting and wielding his sword.

He had wasted a full year and finally grew tired in Pthia. Now he had experienced and now he was eager, just as his men, to return home. His efforts hadn't started to get interesting up until a week ago and Agamemnon's "offer", albeit unintentionally, had finally begun to bear fruit for him.

He stood off on the sands, his eyes watching in silence as the fires blazed and the men, the soldiers of Greece, stormed through the houses of nobles and merchants. His men stood off to the side next to him, finding the worthless soldiers of the Grecian army amusing. The spoils meant very little to them, for the Myrmidon army was ensured an impending journey home from the victory to their families in Greece by their Lord and leader.

They would be home within a month's time and for this, they were all grateful. Achilles was happy with their enthusiasm, for he didn't mind returning to Pthia also, and with what would be brought along with him. He had spent little time as he had actually wished in the company of Briseis, for his men were called out alongside him frequently onto the battlefield.

He found his thoughts often straying towards her. As little as they had spoken to one another, she intrigued him greatly. She acted nothing like a meek and uneducated slave like most he had met and she carried herself in a very odd and peculiar manner. His men that had been fatally wounded thanked him for her help, informing him with gratitude in their eyes that she had helped mend and heal their wounds while telling stories of her homeland to keep them awake with her.

They say she has the grace and beauty of Aphrodite and the spirit of Athena and Achilles found himself not being able to argue against their comparisons. Sometimes he would observe her working in silence, noticing how her eyes, soulful and vulnerable, appeared sad and faraway. He would even catch it change to become a mask, an emotionless void, when she was in the presence of another. It left him curious and wanting to know more about her. He had never met a woman with real depths before, other than his mother, but hers was far more different and mysterious. And no woman he had ever met and desired, noble, slave, or servant, had ever turned down the opportunity to warm his bed.

His men and a young boy spent far more time with her than him and if anything, he couldn't stand being envious over the attention given by one single woman. The next coming days, he vowed, would be for him and Briseis and Achilles had every intention of getting what he wanted.

"When shall we be leaving, My Lord?" Eudorus asked at his side, watching the army with blatant distaste.

"In one week," Achilles answered flatly, "And I can care less if Agamemnon has any objections toward it."

Eudorus smiled. "Thank you, My Lord."

"I'm as anxious to get off of this sorry excuse for a land as you are. I have no wish to stay here any further than that. Let the men know."

"Yes, My Lord."

"MY LORD ACHILLES!!!!!" Both men turned in unison toward the abrupt intrusion, seeing the boy, Calaus, running full speed toward them. "MY LORD!"

Rolenius, the boy's father, instantly took notice of him and frowned. "CALAUS! Get back to the camp, boy!!!"

The child pushed through some of the bigger Myrmidons blocking his path and stopped just a few feet shy of them. Rolenius stepped angrily to his son's side, ready to give him a sound verbal lashing.

"My Lord," He rasped, "It is Briseis! You must help her! A man came into camp, killed Silas and Amon, and he came after her! He didn't see me so I ran to find you."

Eudorus looked to his leader instantly, noticing the sudden change in his demeanor. His eyes, typically a serene deep blue, shifted to a raging cobalt and his fist curled tightly around the hilt of his sword to the point where Eudorus could practically see it twitch for a kill. "Eudorus, come with me, we are returning to camp," he ordered icily. "The rest of you men can do as you wish."

Calaus nodded and moved forward, but was stopped unexpectedly by a harsh grasp on his shoulder. He gazed up into the eyes of Rolenius. "And where do you think you're going?"

Calaus frowned, squaring his shoulders and puffing out his chest with a determined look on his youthful, cherub face. "To save Briseis!"

Rolenius released him, patting him proudly on the shoulder with a chuckle. "I think you're going to have to wait your turn, son. Achilles is going to get to him first. You're staying here, with me."

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

She tried to squirm and struggle, even as she was weak with exhaustion. They had been fighting each other for a decent amount of time but Briseis was the first out of the two to begin losing her strength and both knew that her attempts were growing to be futile; she could not hold him at bay any longer.

"I was going to make this easy and as painless as possible, but you had to make it difficult," Creceden hissed, his body covering hers. "Now it will only be painful for you."

He leered above her, smiling triumphantly as he locked both of her wrists above her head. Briseis gritted her teeth, her legs kicking out at him, only to be pinned seconds later by his own powerful limbs. "You put up a good fight, but now you are mine to use as I please."

Briseis glared up at him defiantly, spitting upon him just as she had Agamemnon. "Pig," She spat, only to recieve a stinging slap across her face in reply.

"You won't think so highly of yourself after I am done with you, Wench," He threatened chillingly, His lips pressing themselves forcefully against her own. Briseis suddenly heard a sharp tear at the front of her garments.

"You won't be needing these anymore either," he taunted lustfully, his eyes eagerly drinking up the sight of her creamy skin, bare and exposed, to him. Briseis shuddered in disgust as she felt his fingers knead and harshly fondle the skin beneath her skirts. Too overpowered and vulnerable, Briseis did the only thing she could do. She screamed.

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