Abduction Of A Princess
By: Sheiado
Author's Note: Thank you to my previous reviews! And gimme some more! LOL Hey, the truth is: the more I get, the more excited about writing this I become so PLEASE give me your feedback! hehe...
Chapter Fourteen: Nightmares
The body smacked sickly against the floor, echoing in uninterrupted silence as it flopped toward a lifeless venture in the direction of the underworld. Creceden would have a fitting place in the domain of Hades, where his treacherous actions in life would no doubt gain him consequence in the weighing of his sins.
The sword of his enemy lowered in expectancy of his downfall, knowing full well that his last breath had been taken and the threat of him no longer held relevancy. The room ceased into silence and it felt as if a God were present in the room, slowing time itself in the stillness of death.
Achilles remained transfixed, his sapphire eyes now serene and satisfied by bloodshed, onto the corpse lying at the base of his feet. He was still toiling with inner emotions, what had remained dormat for so long, as he gazed at the lifeless body below him with vacant interest. He was boiling beneath the surface of his own skin, his anger channelling from Creceden to himself; he should have done things more differently, otherwise his men would still be alive and able to return home to their families in Greece and Briseis would have remained unharmed.
At the thought of her, Achilles looked up, his gaze falling upon the silky curls, the color of a raven's feather nestled into the crook of his friend's arms. Her beautiful face, now undoubtedly etched with horror, was buried into his shoulder, her eyes shielded from the gory sight blanketing the matted floor below them. A cloak was wrapped firmly around her lithe form, covering the visible marks upon her body and the shredded remnants of her gown.
He felt a clash of emotions as he stared her; anger at his enemy, fear at the injury set upon her, and guilt of leaving her improperly guarded. Had Calaus not come in time to warn him of Creceden's intent, more damage would have likely been inflicted upon her. His reputation was well known and from today's occurance, it certainly preceeded him.
Creceden was a man deeply loathed by others of high stature, a warlord prince beneath his swine of a brother, King Rohan. He was a rogue much like Achilles himself was to Agamemnon, but far more greedy and bloodthirsty. His demeanor was dishonorable and to be truthful, a knife through his gullet was long overdue.
Creceden sought for neighboring lands and riches, to rape and pillage kingdoms of abundance and vulnerability. His threat of vengeance through his brother was quickly disregarded for few kingdoms of Greece would dare to attack Pthia. Achilles, even if war were to be declared by Rohan, would have allies of his own, one including his dear friend Odysseus.
"Eudorus," Achilles spoke hoarsely, his eyes locking onto his, "Will you take Briseis to your tent for the time being?"
Understanding lit his eyes and he nodded in silent compliance. "Yes, My Lord."
With utmost caution, Eudorus moved to lead the stunned woman outside, his arms around her as he glanced to his master in mutual agreement. Briseis need not see any more than she already had.
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"Come here now, girl!" the man boomed loudly throughout the halls, his shouts making Briseis jump.
There wasn't any escape for her, for a tall, brawny guard watched her down the hall, a cunning smile curving onto his thick lips. His presence and size was foreboding and was there to make certain her journey to the intended room was indeed made.
She ventured through the narrow hall in apprehensive fear, her muscles tensing with every step taken. Her eyes downcasted themselves toward her feet, wisking away from the obscene tapestries blanketing the walls, the colors of red and scenes of battle. They were tapestries only a cold-blooded murderer could appreciate.
The hallway became gloomier, leading toward a dark chamber that reminded her as being the equivalent of a cave lair. The chamber of her slave master.
She hated and despised him with every fiber of her being... and feared him just the same...
'cruelty and pain.... cruelty and pain...'
Her feet moved of their own accord. She moved through the end of the bone-chilling hall and into the dark lair of a monster sqawned from humanity... Hands shot out with rapid accuracy, rough and painful around her wrists, pulling her hard to a wall of muscle. "Let go of me!"
"Now I can see why I treasure you the most, my dear," came a familiar voice.
Creceden!
"Stop! No!" She felt him move closer and push her to the ground, jerking her painfully to him to prevent movement. She shuddered in fear disgust as hands, filthy hands were upon her. "No! No!"
A voice suddenly broke, "Briseis!"
"Hector," she whispered, almost as a plea. Tears stung her eyes. No one else would dare come to her rescue...
"Briseis!"
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Her lids fluttered open, a cry upon her lips, as she felt the soft caress of fingers through her hair. Without even thinking, a survival impulse, her hands flew from beneath her robes to above her, the tip of a dagger's blade pointed at her intruder.
Those haunting eyes of sapphire, captivating and passionate, stared down at her with a look of near surprise; but he had been quick. He instinctively caught her wrist in one fluid movement.
'Achilles.'
"It is only me," he spoke softly, his blue eyes warm with concern. "No one is going to hurt you."
Her vision slowly adjusted to the darkness, finding an attraction to the specks of blue in his eyes and the golden, plaited hair hovering above her. His face was etched with an expression of vacant, calm control. His eyes, however, told a different story.
Sighing heavily in relief, Briseis relaxed, her breathing slowly becoming normal again. It was then that she realized the knife still wielded within her grip. Only, her wrists were locked by his.
She smiled fleetingly.
The knife glinted in the moonlight as she lifted her hand, still locked in the constricted grip of Achilles. It hovered between their faces.
"I must have fell asleep holding this," she murmured lamely, "It was a precaution that I decided to take."
It had been only a day since the incident of Creceden's attack and so, Achilles neither blamed her nor pushed her for details. He was, however, fiercely protective of her.
He smiled wryly at the response, a little bemused. "I am here now and you are well protected, I promise you... Do... you even know how to use that properly?" He asked, gazing down at the dagger thoughtfully.
"Well," Briseis replied indignantly, "I must if I was attempting to stab you with it in sleep. Besides, what is there to know other than the sharp end is suppose to go into the man attacking me?"
"Point taken," he agreed, amused as he remained holding her in place. "But you would have less difficulty in doing the deed if you had more skill."
Briseis smiled again, something that had for so long seemed foreign to her. "Is the great Achilles offering to teach me blade fighting?"
"If you wish. I'd rather not have another man attack you again."
His face turned grave and Briseis couldn't help but ask, "What Creceden had said... what of war?"
"His brother is a king, a dishonorable man as he is. Creceden's death, as his brother, would be a reason for him to wage war against my lands."
Her chocolate eyes, full of sorrow, gazed at her hands, the blade dropping to her feet. "I am sorry then," she whispered, remorse constricting her.
Achilles shook his head, his hand cupping her downcasted chin. "Do not be sorry for the inevitable," he chided softly, his eyes gazing deeply into hers. "He cares not for Creceden's death, only the chance to gain more land not already possessed by he and his brother."
She nodded in silent acceptance.
His eyes continued to stare intensely into hers, an unbated question held within them. "What were you dreaming about just now?" he asked in a gentle tone.
Her eyes flicked downward to her hands nervously. "I, um, I was dreaming about him... and where I used to be."
"Who's Hector?" He cut in, a little too quickly.
She tilted her head to the side curiously but decided to answer in truth. His eyes felt as if they were piercing her very soul.
"He's my cousin, but has always been more like a brother. He's always been there for me... but not anymore."
"Is he still living?"
"Yes," Briseis answered hesitantly, "but being marked as a slave... some families tend to disown what is theirs."
He hadn't renounced her but she refused to tell him the truth, else he would ransom her or return her to Troy where she would live a life of humiliation and containment.
He nodded solemnly, brushing a stray piece of hair out of her face.
'Affectionately?' She asked herself in silence.
Nay, he couldn't.
"Try and get some rest, Briseis. After tomorrow's politics is done, I want to teach you how to defend yourself. Eudorus will keep watch over you while I am gone."
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