"Achilles," called Markos.
Achilles stopped in the door of his tent.
Markos caught up to him. He tugged aside the flap to Achilles's tent and motioned inside.
Achilles went in.
There was a young girl, tied to a stake at the center of the tent. Her pretty face was tear streaked.
"We found her in the temple," said Markos. "She's wearing the virgin robes."
Achilles took off his breastplate as he studied her. She was frightened.
"We thought she would entertain you," said Markos. He turned and left the tent.
Achilles said nothing as he washed his face and tied on the lower part of his robe. He studied the girl for a long moment and then came over to her. He pulled a knife.
She gasped and jumped backwards. She backed as far away from him as the ropes would let her. She struggled against them, causing them to cut into her wrists.
Achilles's eyes narrowed when he saw how bloody her wrists where and how red the thick ropes where. She had been struggling for some time.
He captured her wrists. Her hands where freezing. With one quick cut, Briesis of Troy was free.
Hector and Evangelia sat down. Paris was no where in sight.
Priam nodded at his son and granddaughter.
Then talk of the war began. They discussed the capturing of the beach and of Achillies.
Evangelia's mind wandered as she thought of Achilles. His eyes…they had bewitched her. She had never seen such beautiful eyes on a man. Save one. Zeus, the immortal. His eyes where that color. But Achilles, he was…
"Evangelia!"
Evangelia started out of her thoughts. "What?"
Hector looked at her for a long moment. "Are you alright?"
"Of course." She saw Paris had entered the room and taken his seat. She looked at her Father. "I'm fine."
Hector turned back to Priam. "We gathered our dead."
"Who all has come?"
"The Messenians, Arcadians, Epeians, Spartans, Agamemnon's own people and who know's who else," said Evangelia.
"What are you saying, Evangelia?" asked Priam.
"The odds could be bad for us." Evangelia looked at her Grandfather steadily. "Could be bad. They may not be."
"Will you attack the beach tonight?" asked another council member.
"Yes. Men are already standing by to do that," said Hector. "It will be a quick attack. Our men will be back before midnight."
One of the council members stood. "What if Agamemnon wants to strike a bargain?"
Out of the corner of her eyes, Evangelia saw Paris stiffen. She ignored him. "What sort of a bargain?"
"Helen in return for peace?"
Paris stood. "No!"
All eyes went to him, including Evangelia's. She stood as well. "It is not your place, Paris," she spat his name from her mouth as if it where a foul thing, "To say no."
Paris's eyes went to her.
"When you tire of Helen, what in the name of the gods, are we to do with her? No man of Troy will ever want her. We couldn't even make a common whore out of her! Even though that is what she has become." She met his angry gaze with an equally angry one of her own.
At last they where to face off. The council watched with interest.
Priam said nothing for he had wondered the same thing. He was amazed that Paris had not tired of Helen before. But when he did, what would they do with her?
"I love her!" shouted Paris.
"You stole another man's wife. Most women like her end up becoming the common whores you yourself have slept with many a time."
"I will not give Helen back." Paris's eyes where blazing and he had come up closer to Evangelia. "And you will not degrade her to call her a whore. Never again!"
She wouldn't back down. "You will not tell me what to say and what not to say, Paris!" Rage was causing her to clench her fists. "If I had my way, Helen would have been staked out on the beach and you with her!"
"Helen is not leaving Troy!"
"You are not fighting this war, Paris. Leave the decisions up to the ones who ride through those gates. I don't think any of us want to die for a woman of Sparta right now!"
Paris looked as though he was going to strike Evangelia across her face. "She is Helen of Troy now."
"Troy does not want her!" snapped Evangelia. "And now it's your fault those men are burning out there. And it's your fault women and children of Troy are weeping. For their husbands, brothers and fathers. Yes, Paris, is it your fault. You don't even leave the walls of the palace. I do!"
"I'll die for her! I love her that much!"
Evangelia scoffed. "You say you're willing to die for love. But you know nothing of dying. And you know absolutely nothing about love!"
"And you do?"
"I do. I love Troy."
"I'm sorry for the war I'm causing."
"That's not good enough, Paris!" shouted Evangelia. "This time, it is more than an angry father or brother or husband your brother and I are trying to calm. It is Agamemnon and his armies!" She stepped closer to him. "Your Father has worked for years to have peace with Menelaus. And in one night of passion, you destroyed it all."
"I love her."
"Love is a game for you. When this turn is over, you will roll the dice again." She turned and left the room.
Paris stormed out of the room down the opposite hall.
Hector stood. "We have fought many wars, you and I, Father. For power, for land, for wealth and for glory. I suppose…," he said slowly, "Fighting for love makes more sense than all."