A/N: Again, another small chapter. I decided to squeeze this one in too over the weekend. I know that according to the Iliad. Hector's son did not survive (Astyanax was thrown from the city walls by Neoptolemus, Achilles' son), and Andromache was taken as a slave... and that Achilles died long before the Trojan Horse was built so he couldn't possibly had been on it...but hey...this is fanfiction...I can write whatever I want...wink wink...

Her mother used to say, "The Gods speak to you in your dreams, close your eyes and you shall see." But Andromache saw nothing, nothing but her husband's body burning on the funeral pyre. The father of her child. Her people's prince. Slain by that heartless man. Hector should have had a wonderful life. He would be a wonderful father, a wonderful king to his country. He should be able to see his son grow tall, and his son's sons-

Andromache huddled closer to her son. She wiped away her tears furiously. He would have had all of that. He would have grown old with her, share a life with her.If notfor him. Andromache could feel her teeth clench at the mere thought of the name. Achilles. What kind of man would kill an honourable man like Hector? Unless Achilles himself had no honour. Yes, Hector did kill a boy, he was much to young. But he thought he was Achilles! He was only trying to do what's best for his country. And Achilles only wanted to revenge for himself! It was a mistake, a terrible mistake, but it was not all of Hector's fault.

But killing him wasn't enough. The beast had to drag Hector's body back to his camp, disgracing his soul and distorting his remains. Again, what kind of man would do such a despicable thing! If every death needed revenge, then soon there would be no man left on earth, and Achilles himself would have to die tens of thousands of times! It would still not be justifiable for all the lives he'd taken.

Andromache's eyes shone with moldering rage. Yes, that man deserved whatever came to him, and more. For the first time in her life, she desperately wished for pain to befall another human being. She hated Achilles with every fibre of her soul.

Inconspicuous to Andromache's curses, Achilles streched out under the starry sky. His mother was always interested in the heavenly bodies, and she had been able to predict many a things with them. But to him, they always had their allure of mystery. It comforted him to know that Briseis was lying under the same stars, and was gazing into the same deep black sky.

Achilles was confident that he was catching up, day by day. The Trojans were headed away from the river now, instead into the mountains. Their change of direction puzzled him at first. But he was determined to go wherever she goes.

He had never loved one person as much as he loved Briseis now, and it frightened him. Now that he had time to really think about what they'd shared, he feared it wasn't enough. What if she didn't feel the feelings he felt? What if her whispered words were uttered in the heat of the moment? It disturbed him. He turned on his side and absently fingered the fine blades of grass.

No, he shouldn't allow for himself to think like that.

There were rumors, of course. Of how their virgin priestess came back virgin no more. Of how their royal princess was abducted and raped. What if none of the stories were true? Yes, Briseis came back changed, most unlike her old self. She became independent, and the good-natured girl she was had evolved into a fiercely spirited woman. There was color in her cheeks and grace in her steps. And she didn't seem to care the least that her image of innocence was shattered. But if the theories were false?

Andromache put one and one together. Of course! Achille must have valiantly saved her from the Greek soldiers' grasps, the "knight in shining armour". Andromache wrinkled her nose in disgust. He must have kept her in the safety of his tent and romanced her. And the poor girl had fallen right into his trap. God knows where he was now, probably somewhere in his own country, chasing after some other woman. While Briseis was nursing her broken heart, no less. It all made sense! But that did not make Andromache worry less.

Watching Briseis scuffle past her with her head down, Andromache made her decision. Handing Astyanax to Helen, she scurried after the girl.

"Briseis, wait!" she called out, "We have to talk."