A/N: Well, this is the last chapter of the first arc of Excidium Troiae. With Paris in the story and Selene introduced, I think it's about time we brought in everybody's second-favourite Greek in these kinds of stories (after Perseus, of course). Let us welcome Achilles and the Achaeans. A lot goes down in this chapter and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. Thanks for giving this story a chance.
-TripleHomicide.
PARIS looked around him in awe and astonishment. If he had been told four months ago that he would be living the life of a prince soon he would never have believed it. But here he was, an actual son of King Priam, living the life he was born for.
He had found out the exact prophecy which had caused him to be sent away and although it had troubled him for quite a while, he was past it now. He had fallen in love with the city and he would never do anything to bring about its destruction like the Prophecy had said.
He pursed his lips. If he had not granted the god Ares that laurel wreath in the bull competition, he would never have drawn the attention of the gods of Olympus. He wouldn't have been asked to judge the three goddesses and grant one of them the apple. He wouldn't have been taken back to Troy by his brother-in-law, Aeneas. In short, he wouldn't have been a prince.
And Oenone would not have left him.
A deep scowl marred his features as he thought back to the argument he had had with the river nymph a few days after his reinstatement as a prince. He had gone back to his old home to inform his father—the man who had raised him—and had encountered his lover once more.
But Oenone did not matter, because he would be getting married to the most beautiful woman on earth, Helen of Troy. Paris knew she was married to the King of Sparta—that was why he was on this expedition in the first place. Aphrodite had made him a promise and he knew she would not go back on her word.
Paris glanced around him, pulling himself out of his thoughts. The ship was sailing on smoothly, the waters gentle—Poseidon was in a good mood, then. Paris caught sight of Perseus, his brother Hector and the Polemarchos, Alexandros, exiting a room close to the captain's chambers.
The three were deep in conversation and Paris saw them glance once or twice in his direction. Paris and his two brothers Hector and Deiphobus had been sent on a diplomatic mission to Sparta, on the order of King Priam to make friendly ties with the Graeceans. Hector was there to learn how to lead delegations, as he was going to be doing so when he was King, and Alexandros was there to guide him. Perseus had accompanied both men, along with a squadron of about twenty or thirty soldiers, including Paris himself and Deiphobus, whom Priam had ordered to go along. Paris had a sneaking suspicion that Alexandros and his father were grooming Perseus to succeed the Polemarchos, just as Hector would take over from King Priam.
He did not doubt that all this was the work of Aphrodite—sending him to the Greek polis so he would be able to see his intended. He smiled to himself, turning back to look over the edge of the ship and into the still waters.
-X-
PERSEUS scowled at the water as he continued, ruminating over his thoughts. It was the first time since his mother had died that he had been at sea. He couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible would happen on this journey.
Sure, he loved the water. But he hated its master. He just hoped Poseidon would not notice his presence and aura for as long as he continued to be on the ship. He hadn't wanted to go on this journey, but his devotion and loyalty to Hector and the Head General had made him do so.
And the words of Cassandra four nights prior had solidified his decision to go along.
They had been travelling for almost four days, on their way to Sparta on the order of the King. He and Hector had spent most of their time together, training and discussing the methods he would use once he offered the gifts of gold and a treaty.
He silently studied the new prince and cocked his head to the side as he did. Since the start of the journey, Paris had seemed oddly excited, as if anticipating something big. Cassandra's warning reverberated in Perseus' head and he frowned once more. He could also hear grunts and laughs from the rear of the ship as Hector duelled with his silent and reserved brother, Deiphobus. The fourth born of Priam was a few years younger than Perseus' himself, but he was spirited and good at battle.
Perseus' thoughts drifted to their days in Troy. He had been going to the forest more often to seek out more monsters and battling them, to let off the stress and pressure which came with his job. He had felt as though he were being watched every time…
He rarely saw Aeneas these days and he missed his brother dearly. He had been slowly adjusting to the military and royal life, training each day and attending court sessions. Hector had started learning the art of warfare and politics and ruling the kingdom. He rarely had time for either Perseus or Aeneas these days. But they had been going on several military campaigns and battles and with the death of the older, more experienced officers, they had been rising through the ranks, slowly but surely. Perseus and his two companions were now antisyntacmatarkhis—Lieutenant Colonels.
The raven-haired boy sighed, turning away. He had been seeing more of Apollo and slowly, as the months crept past, they were repairing their fractured friendship. He tried to shake himself out of the memories and thoughts, glancing towards the horizon instead.
His conversation with Cassandra forced its way into his head once more.
"Do not go on this expedition, Perseus," Her eyes were flashing dangerously; crazily, even.
"It is my duty to protect your brother and General Alexandros, and that is what I must do," He said, shaking his head. "I cannot shirk my responsibilities."
She looked down sadly, as though she had seen he would refuse her plea. "Fine, then," She said. "Go. But keep an eye on Paris. Do not trust him, and stop him before he does something which—"
"I'll make sure he does nothing to harm Troy, Cassandra," He saw, brow furrowing. "I'll keep him in check."
Cassandra smiled, grateful that at least one person in the city believed her.
He shook his head, his hand finding its way to his sword. He had nothing better to do. Might as well go join Hector and Deiphobus.
-X-
HECTOR tried to calm his erratically beating heart. He had never led a delegation to any city before and he was panicking, although he was trying not to show it. He saw that Perseus was also looking uneasy as he walked in tandem with Alexandros and Paris. Hector fiddled with a small knife at his side, examining the servants who lugged a multitude of gifts in the direction of the palace.
It had taken them three weeks to get to Greece and the city-state of Sparta. On their arrival a few minutes ago, they had been welcomed by the General of the Spartan armies and a couple of buff soldiers.
Hector had no doubt he could take them easily if something went wrong, but he did not want to test his luck. He was a bit insulted that the King, Menelaus, had not come out to see them himself.
As they were escorted to the huge and imposing palace, Hector could feel the gazes of the spartans on their small party. He kept his eyes fixed on their destination, head held high and paying no heed to the gawking people.
They continued walking in silence, and finally, they came to stop before two huge bronze gates. The spartans were favoured by the gods, he could tell. He had passed at least two milk fountains on their way, and he had seen a couple of skeletal horses which he knew came from the god Ares. In the city square, a statue of the war god was chained to the ground, two dragons at its sides.
With a single gesture from the General, the gates swung open. Hector took in a gulp of air, then put a step forward, into the royal palace of Sparta, the city of war.
XMX
HECTOR did not go on his knees. He simply dipped his head and mid-section in a small bow to the royals seated on the dais, while all those around him except his brothers went on one knee in reverence. Hector studied Menelaus as he said, "Rise."
The King was about a decade older than Hector himself, with mousy brown hair and a bushy beard. He was dressed in red and gold robes, and Hector faintly thought his own purple robes pale in comparison.
The King was heavily and well built, if not a bit stocky and short, but he looked every bit like a King and a warrior. "Welcome to Sparta," Menelaus spoke, his deep voice reverberating throughout the audience chamber. "It is a pleasure to have you grace my city."
"The pleasure is all mine," Hector stepped forward. "I have heard so much about Sparta and her conquests, and I wished to see for myself." Menelaus nodded, and Hector continued. "I come bearing gifts from my father, King Priam of Troy, and offer a treaty of peace, trade and friendship, between our two nations."
Menelaus seemed surprised but pleased. "I am delighted to hear this," He said. "Your offer of peace and friendly relations will be decided upon in three days. You are welcome to stay in Troy for as long as you wish."
Hector bowed once more, then said, "On behalf of the polis of Troy, I thank you for your hospitality."
Menelaus nodded once more. Hector's eyes flickered away from the King and then widened. She was honestly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, even more beautiful than his lovely wife Andromache. She had plump red lips and curly blonde hair which fell around her in ringlets. Her robes were immaculate, as were all her other features. Her expression was one of childlike innocence and Hector had to force himself to tear his eyes away.
He cleared his throat, catching Menelaus' smirk. The Spartan ruler stood, then said, "Odysseus, why don't you escort our guests to the chambers we arranged for their arrival."
-X-
PARIS' heart was thumping loudly in his chest. He had been staring at the woman seated at Menelaus' side for so long, unable to get her beauty out of his head. Her eyes were perfect, her lips too—Gods, she was perfect. He smiled to himself once more.
Helen of Troy had met his gaze a few times while Hector spoke with King Menelaus. He had seen the curiosity in her gaze and he couldn't help but feel pleased. He felt sorry for himself as they were led out of the audience chamber by a sandy-haired, doe-eyed man who had also been on a throne next to Menelaus.
Odysseus, if Paris had heard correctly. Paris had heard of him, the King of Ithaca, married to Helen's cousin, Penelope. The new prince walked slowly behind their party, not noticing that Hector and Perseus were engaged in deep conversation with the Ithacan.
He admired the beauty of the palace as they walked—it was just like its queen. It could not compare to Troy, no, but it was beautiful nonetheless.
"This shall be Prince Paris' chambers," The voice of Odysseus cut through Paris' reverie. "I hope you enjoy your stay in my brother-in-law's kingdom." Paris bobbed his head in a nod and pushed open the door Odysseus had gestured to.
He knew they would be there for a while. He had overheard Alexandros saying they would spend a week in the city-state, to establish the treaty of trade and friendship between Troy and Sparta. He had a week to make Helen fall for him.
As Paris closed the door of his chambers, he was aware of the sea-green eyes boring into him, narrowed in suspicion. He looked up, and sent another small nod, but this time in Perseus' direction. Then he shut the door.
XMX
PARIS got the shock of his life when the silky but regal voice calling his name reached his ears. He spun from the door, then glanced around anxiously, only relaxing when he caught sight of the woman in his bed.
But then he frowned. He knew the voice, but the appearance was different. Aphrodite was disguised as a mortal servant, wearing a simple short and low-necked chiton, which displayed an almost indecent length of her legs and ample cleavage. He felt himself turning red, then looked down, dropping into a bow.
"Lady Aphrodite," He tried to keep his throat from clogging up. The majestic laughter caused him to look up once again.
"There is no need to be shy, young Paris," Aphrodite stood from the bed. "Rise."
He followed her commands and waited for her to speak.
"I see you have met Helen earlier today?" When he nodded, she smiled. "You are smitten with her, no? Your aura is enough indication. Do not fret, Paris. She shall be yours soon."
"What must I do to ensure that she is, my lady?" He queried, tilting his head to the side.
"Four days hence, you must leave Sparta. Eros and I have already worked our magic. She will come to you in four days, under my spell. Be prepared to run for your lives. You must leave with your brothers, and Perseus, along with the others, if you manage to alert them in time. Otherwise, take only those three. The soldiers are replaceable and unimportant."
Paris felt adrenaline pump through his veins. He pursed his lips and smiled at the goddess. "I thank you for your kindness, my lady. I will forever be in your debt."
Aphrodite waved his words away and then melted into the form of a dove, flying out of the open window.
-X-
PERSEUS fiddled with his knife as he listened. It had been four days and to him, the delegation was going pretty well. Hector was excited that he had nearly accomplished his mission but Perseus couldn't help but feel a little anxious.
He was reminded of Cassandra's warning each time he looked at Paris and he had kept the prince in sight at all times. That particular morning, Perseus had been more nervous than usual. He had been around the grounds of the Palace with Hector and Alexandros, being given a tour by the man, Odysseus.
Perseus liked him. He had a good sense of humour, although his arrogance was irritating. He was wise too, and he could see that the man had Athena's favour. Odysseus and Hector had hit it off and were discussing wars and battles and other stuff Perseus did not deem interesting. He had walked alongside them, his mind absent. After their tour, evening had come and Menelaus had held a feast to celebrate the acceptance of the treaty.
After a few hours of friendly chatter with Menelaus, Hector had asked for leave to retire to bed. Perseus had stood to follow, along with Paris and Alexandros. A guard moved to escort them back.
They had walked in silence for a few minutes, passing through the dark passages of the palace. Night had fallen and Perseus could see the full moon through a few open windows they passed.
"Oh, I must have left my sword back at the feast hall," Paris muttered absentmindedly. "I must go retrieve it."
Perseus could hear the lie coming from Paris' voice. He could also see it, seeing as the sword in question was hanging at Paris' side. Hector and Alexandros did not seem to notice though. Paris retreated silently.
"Excuse me," Perseus said after a few minutes. "I'll join you both at Prince Hector's chambers."
He pivoted, his hand going to his sword and stalked down the passageway. He silently cursed the new prince. He had a lot to learn—if he was going to lie, it should have at least been believable.
Shaking his head, he silently traced his way back in the direction they had come from. He heard the voices a few minutes later.
The voice was female and light. "You came."
"Of course I did," He heard the voice of the Prince. "Who can resist a request from a pretty face like yours, Helen?"
Perseus' eyes widened. No…
Paris wouldn't. Especially not when they were trying to solidify the alliance between Troy and Sparta. Perseus' chest constricted, as though a giant hand had wrapped around his body and squeezed.
"Please, I beg you, take me away from this wretched place," Queen Helen pleaded. "I hate it here. My husband does not treat me well."
"Do not worry, my love," Paris said. "You will be free of him soon. Midnight. Meet me at the port. I will take you to Troy with me."
"Thank you. I love you," Helen's voice was dripping with emotion, and Perseus heard something which sounded like a wet kiss. "I must return to the feast, before my absence is noticed."
"Goodbye, Helen," Paris said. "Do not forget. Midnight."
Perseus turned and hastily retreated before either of the two came out of the small passage. A frown marred his face as he went. Was this what Cassandra was referring to? Yes. He was certain. If Helen and Paris ran, Menelaus would follow them to Troy.
And Death and War would come along with him.
XMX
PERSEUS pulled the cloak tighter over himself. He stood a few metres away from Paris' chambers, hidden in a small alcove in the wall. He was prepared to fight the son of Priam if it meant stopping him from running with Helen.
He heard the faint sound of a door creaking open. It was midnight, then. The sound of footsteps was barely audible and Perseus stepped out hastily. He drew his sword and levelled it at the prince, a scowl on his features.
"Perseus. W-what—"
"Do you think I am a fool, Paris?" He cocked his head to the side. "Do you know what will happen if you steal Helen from her husband?"
The Prince's surprise morphed into anger. "You heard, then."
"I did," Perseus agreed. "I cannot allow you to endanger the lives of my people."
"I am their Prince," Paris said, angered. "I would do nothing to harm Troy."
"I am not inclined to believe that, seeing what you plan to do," He bit back. "Go back to your chambers, Paris."
The boy scowled. "I order you to drop your weapon, son of Anchises. If you want to make it back home in one piece, you will come with me, as Aphrodite commanded. Fetch Hector and Deiphobus. You can rouse the soldiers and Alexandros if there is time."
Perseus' eyes flashed dangerously. "I will not—"
"It is an order from Aphrodite herself and from a Prince of Troy. You will heed to me and do as I say," Paris' lips curled. "Unless you want your dear father to be unfortunately exiled out of Troy? Believe me, I can influence Father enough to make it happen. Your position as Lieutenant Colonel? That can vanish too."
Perseus glared, fury coursing through him. He did not want to do as Paris said. But he was a prince—a representative of the throne. He hesitated. Aphrodite had ordered it, but that still didn't make it right. Perseus knew what kind of implications listening to the Prince would bring.
"Obey my command," Paris sneered. "It is your duty."
He couldn't give in. But Paris was right. The first thing they were taught in the Army was obedience before complaint. And the Prince was threatening his father, along with his position.
Perseus couldn't allow that to happen. No harm had to come to his father. Without another word, he stalked past the son of Priam, shouldering him as he went.
Paris had made a permanent enemy that night. He would regret blackmailing Perseus.
-X-
HECTOR's eyes widened in shock and panic as he watched the giant spear sail through his mentor's chest. The Supreme General, Alexandros fell to the ground with a yell of pain. The spear protruded out of his chest and his eyes were wide and glassy.
"Bring them back to me!" He heard the roar of King Menelaus, who had killed the head of the Army (directly under Priam) right in front of Hector. "I don't care if they're dead or alive! Bring back my wife!"
"We must move!" Perseus' voice broke him out of his shock. "Or else they will kill us too!"
It was only by Perseus' guidance that they reached the ship. Hector did not know what in Apollo's name was happening. He had been roused by his friend a few minutes ago, saying they had to get to the port, urgently. But Perseus hadn't mentioned that they would be fleeing for their lives and stealing the Queen of Sparta.
"Move, men! Move the bloody ship!" Paris' voice tore through the night as the soldiers hurried to set sail.
"What's going on?" Hector came to a stop at the starboard side. Bells were ringing, lights flashing and men yelling. He could see hundreds of Spartans, racing or the port. Spears and arrows sailed through the air and one or two cut through a few men.
"Your brother," Perseus snarled. "Smitten. In love with the Queen herself. She asked him to take her to Troy. And he says Aphrodite sanctioned it!"
"What?!" Hector felt rage fill him. He spun, making a move towards his brother. "PARIS!" He thundered.
He barely took notice of the woman on the ship. He came to a stop in front of his brother, rearing back and slammed his fist into Paris' face.
"How dare you?!" He raged. "Do you know what you have done?!" He couldn't describe the emotions coursing through him. Fear, anger, fury, rage. He wanted to throttle Paris and throw him off the ship.
The shouts and lights from Sparta were dimming as the men rowed them away. The port faded in the distance.
Hector narrowed his eyes, heaving in a breath. "The General of Troy's armies is dead because of you." He saw Paris gulp. "Menelaus will chase after us because of you." He studied the boy before him, trying to calm himself.
"You will be punished as I see fit when we arrive back at Troy," He hissed. "Get out of my sight."
-X-
MENELAUS exchanged a stricken and furious glance with Odysseus. He was mad. He had allowed the Trojans to come—he had shown them hospitality. And they repaid him by stealing his wife?!
A savage snarl ripped through his throat. "Send word to Agamemnon in Mycenae," He forced the words out, clenching tighter to his second-best spear. "Rally the Kings of Greece. It is time to fulfil the promise they made to my father-in-law and I all those years ago."
Odysseus nodded subtly. Menelaus gazed at the horizon. He would call forth all of Greece. He would make sure the Trojans paid.
He would kill Paris, son of Priam, with his own hands.
-X-
ACHILLES laughed. He spun on his feet, narrowly dodging the spear which would have impaled him had he been a second slower. He was bathed in the golden glow of the sun, and his bright blue eyes shone with the adrenaline and excitement which filled him each time he duelled.
He narrowly dodged another strike and laughed once more, drawing his sword as he did. He shot forward, slamming the pommel of his sword into his instructor's gut. Seriously, did his father think this man was a challenge? Achilles knew he could take on both this man and twenty more at the same time.
His instructor doubled over with a loud oomph, then Achilles was up in a flash, slamming his elbow into the man's back. The armoured soldier dropped to the ground, flat on his face. Achilles placed his foot on his back.
"Yield?" He queried.
The man cursed slightly, then nodded-or at least, tried to. Achilles lifted his foot, sheathing his sword as he did so. He smiled when he heard the clapping. Achilles brushed his hair out of his eyes, his smile widening when he spotted his spy.
"Patroclus!" He began to make his way to the boy, his best friend.
Patroclus looked impressed, although Achilles saw a flash of anxiety pass through his eyes.
"You're early," He smiled. "I wasn't expecting you for another half an hour."
"I know," Patroclus' smile fell off his face. "But King Peleus sent me."
Achilles' smile faded too. His father only sent for him when it was urgent, or there was some business he wanted to discuss.
"Do you know what he wants me for?"
"No idea." Patroclus bit his lip. "But he seemed grave. You'd better go."
"Alright. Are you busy after? We're to meet up with Chiron in an hour. Don't be late," Achilles reminded.
"I won't," Patroclus said. "I shall go prepare our bags."
Achilles nodded. Patroclus frowned in his direction, the older boy's worry shining on his face. Achilles sent him a smile of reassurance, then began to make his way to his father's audience chamber.
It seemed like hours but after only a few minutes, he stood before the ageing King of Phthia. Achilles dropped into a bow, saying, "You asked to see me, Father?"
"I did." The king arose from his throne, approaching his only son. Achilles stood upright at a motion from his father.
"As you know, we have visitors," The King began. Achilles frowned. Yes, he did know they had visitors. Two men, Odysseus and Diomedes, kings in their own right, had paid a visit to their kingdom, although he didn't know for what.
He simply nodded, and his father ploughed on. "They came to ask you to aid them in battle. Against the Trojans."
Achilles stepped back with a start. His lips parted and his eyes widened. Shock and surprise filled him and he was pretty sure his heart stopped beating for an instant. After a few seconds, he shook his head to clear away the surprise. Sure, he knew he was a great warrior-he heard that every day-but a war?
His heart began to thump. For years, that was all he had ever dreamed of. He wanted to show the world his skills. He wanted to be known as Greece's greatest. He felt a mountain of emotions and thoughts slam into him and his frown deepened.
A single question came to him. "Why?"
His father sighed. "A prophecy. One which foretells that Menelaus and his brother will only be successful if aided by the Prince of Phthia. Their forces must assemble on Aulis in a week." Achilles was no fool. He knew of the conflict that had arisen between Troy and all the kingdoms of Greece, over the fairest woman in the land.
But a prophecy which had spoken of him? He had heard nothing of that.
"I asked them to wait, so I could speak with you. After all, it is your life and your decision, not mine." He paused for effect. "Think carefully, son. You might die if you pursue this conquest, for war, even in honour of a woman favoured by the gods, is still war." He stopped again, then said, "Or you might achieve great things."
He tried to still his erratic heartbeat and blanket his thoughts, but they pushed through. Would he die if he went?
Would he be allowed to go at all if he wanted to?
What would he gain by aiding the King of Sparta?
What if he didn't get another chance to prove himself to the world?
The last thought incensed him, and determination filled his veins. "I want to-"
He was cut short by the sharp sound which filled the empty throne room. A deep scent of the ocean filled his lungs and Achilles' eyes widened further. He hadn't seen her in nearly a month.
"Mother," He breathed.
Thetis glided over to him, totally disregarding Achilles' father. He knew she only came because of him. She hated his father, if what Chiron had said was to be believed.
"You shall not go to Aulis," She bared her teeth at him and Achilles narrowed his eyes. She was glowing with divine power and looking as ethereal and mystical as a godly being should be.
"Why?" He questioned, stepping away from her.
"You shall perish if you do. Fame and eternal glory shall be yours, but you shall perish," The bite in her voice made him flinch. His mother was never this hard on him. "I shall not stand by and watch my only son die at the hands of a lowly mortal."
"But Matera-" The indignance in his voice was clear.
"My decision is final," Thetis' eyes flashed with power and if it wasn't for the simple fact that she was his mother, Achilles would have attacked her from the anger which filled him at that moment.
"Father!" He turned to the King. "I want to go!"
His father's lips parted to speak. But his mother cut him short. "It seems you did not hear me. You shall die if you aid the greeks. And you will not. I won't allow it!"
Achilles wanted to argue. He wanted to fight. He wanted to do something. But he could only watch as his mother reached out for him, grabbing his shoulder. He felt himself begin to melt into the ocean mist.
"Where are you taking me?" He snarled.
"Skyros." That was the last thing he heard before the blackness engulfed him.
-X-
PERSEUS tilted his head to the side, taking in his surroundings. He knew what he was doing was risky. He knew he would be killed if he was caught.
But he had volunteered for this job, and he was not going to back out now. He released a breath, fingering the hilt of his sword for reassurance that it was still there. He walked cautiously through the gates of the Palace of Skyros. It had been two months since the incident in Sparta, and all the kingdoms of Greece were lining up against his country.
His anxiety was to be expected. He knew Skyros was aligned with Mycenae. But it was a centre of trade and one could hear news from all around the world, just by mingling with the people at the docks and the market. He had heard a lot, actually, and he knew his report would most likely frighten those back home.
When they had returned to Troy, Aphrodite had appeared, to stop Priam from punishing Paris. Now the sodding git was married to an already married woman, just because it was the will of the goddess.
Perseus could now see why Aeneas had gotten mood swings and anger management issues when he had interacted with his mother.
He knew Menelaus and his brother Agamemnon were amassing an army to take back Helen and destroy his city. He knew they needed the help of Achilles, son of Thetis, who had gone missing two months prior. And he knew Achilles was in Skyros-in the palace to be exact-thanks to information from Apollo.
His thoughts drifted to the developments in Troy. Priam had known what would happen when Paris brought back Helen. So he had had Hector replace Alexandros as Commander of the Trojan forces. Then he had asked him to pick generals and advisors to aid him with the city defences.
Of course, Aeneas and Perseus were among the six selected, including Helenus, Deiphobus, Polydorus and Paris. New blood replaced the old, the former generals and advisors having either retired or died after the army's several conquests.
Hector had felt he was not ready, although Perseus knew he was more than. The leadership skills which Hector had were inferior to none and Perseus knew he would support his friend through the storm.
He was broken out of his reverie by the guard who had been accompanying him to see the King.
"Announcing, Perseus, ambassador of Apollo!" The doors to the King's court swung open and he strode through.
Like he had said, it was risky.
He had been tasked by Hector to get information from Skyros about the happenstances in Greece, and he had succeeded in that. Now he needed to find the whereabouts of Achilles like Hector had ordered.
He needed to kill him.
He had no reservations against assassinations and murder. Sure, he was still young, but he had seen as much blood and death as any other man had. More than most, in fact, especially considering the Tournament of Ida.
But he was in the lion's den right now and every move he made had to be calculated. He had to kill the son of Thetis before he became a threat to the Kingdom of Troy as the Prophecy had predicted.
Perseus' eyes fluttered around the room. He had come up with the false title while on the voyage to Skyros-He would meet with the King, convince him to tell him of Achilles' whereabouts on the guise that he was on a mission to retrieve a quiver of arrows the god had left on the Island once before.
It was smart and cunning, not quite his forte, he knew, but it would be effective, especially with Apollo backing him on this mission.
Perseus dropped down to a bow as he came to a stop in front of the less-than-grand throne.
"Rise, ambassador of Apollo," The King spoke. He did. "You are...quite young, to be a priest of the gods."
"I am," He agreed. "But I have lived in the temple of Athens since my birth and I am more than qualified to serve Lord Apollo."
"Tell me," Lycomedes leaned forward on his throne. The king was rather unappealing-wrinkles, grey balding head, sagging gut and a grey robe which might have once been white. He would surely win MVP for most grubbiest King of the year.
"What does the god Apollo wish to reveal to me?"
Perseus looked around. There were many court officials, old men and soldiers, noblewomen and maids. But his eyes fell on one-he had sensed the aura immediately he had stepped into the audience chamber.
She had bright red hair, almost as bright as Aphrodite's, with startling blue eyes. A weird but not rare combination. She looked to be a lady-in-waiting but the intensity of her gaze made him deduce that she was so much more. His sharp ocean eyes caught sight of the wisps of blond sticking out from beneath the mop of red.
Bingo.
Perseus looked around once more, turning to face the king. "My Lord's message is only for your ears, King Lycomedes. No mere mortal must be allowed to hear the words of the mighty Apollo. I request that you allow me to speak with you in private."
"Your request shall be deliberated on. Two days hence, I will hear the words of the sun. For now, ambassador, you shall enjoy the wonders Skyros had to offer and be at home in my palace. This court is adjourned."
Perseus knew he wasn't going to wait for two days. The job would be done that night. Then he would call on Apollo for help and escape the confines of the palace.
Bowing once more to the king, he allowed himself to be led away from the unenticing throne.
XMX
PERSEUS silently crept up the passageway, towards the direction of Princess Deidamia's chambers, where he knew the lady-in-waiting was. He fiddled with his knife hilt, making sure he was ready to draw it at a moment's notice.
The son of Anchises could hear nothing as he walked. The palace was dead and the faint light of the torches which illuminated the passage was what made him see. He slowed down as he neared the youngest princess' chambers, hearing low voices whispering in the night.
His thoughts drifted to two months ago when he had heard the whispers of Paris and Helen. Surely Thetis' son, only of fifteen summers, couldn't be involved with the princess.
He narrowed his eyes, coming to a stop at a bend in the passage. Down the left bend was the Princess' room. He heard the faint sound of a door opening and then shutting.
"All done for the night, Pyrrha?" Perseus risked a peek. The deep voice of the single guard at the door had stopped the redhead lady-in-waiting.
"Yes. My Lady's needs and wants have been satisfied. She is in Morpheus' hands now." Perseus cringed at the high falsetto. He also cringed at the words. The double meaning which accompanied them made him want to choke. Achilles was having an affair with the Princess of Skyros? Interesting.
"Well then, goodnight," The guard bade her farewell. He seemed oblivious to what Achilles had meant.
Perseus ducked into a niche as Achilles, or rather, Pyrrha, made his way towards his own chambers, away from the Princess' room.
Perseus waited for him to disappear behind a bend before he followed him. As he came to a stop at another curve, he saw the hems of a pale pink dress disappear. He followed.
Perseus silently slid across the walls, tailing the disguised boy until they stopped in front of an archway. It was then that he realised something was wrong. He had done his research. And this wasn't Achilles' chamber.
"You can come out now, ambassador of Apollo," The boy's voice made him freeze. How had he known he was there?
There was no use hiding, then. Perseus stepped out of the shadows, drawing his knife. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Pyrrha."
"Likewise, son of Anchises," The blue-eyed half-mortal grinned. Perseus started. "Oh, don't look so surprised. You think my mother didn't warn me that you would be coming to kill me?"
Perseus recovered quickly, arching a brow. "Your mother is very...invested in your life. So much that she hides you from battle, like a little child. She probably knows how easily you would fall to my blade or that of my comrades if you were to venture to Troy."
Achilles snarled, drawing a gleaming knife from his waist. His blue eyes filled with rage. Perseus slipped into a stance.
"I shall end you, son of Anchises. And then I'll deliver your bones to your father myself."
-X-
ACHILLES surged forward, knives flashing. He let loose a roar and raised the weapon to stab his enemy. Perseus sidestepped the attacks, spinning nimbly on his feet. He ducked low to slash at Achilles' chest.
The younger warrior darted back, narrowly avoiding the blade. He bent, kicking out to sweep Perseus off his feet. The son of Anchises leaped into the air, then brought his knife downwards in an overhead strike. Achilles rolled out of the way and the blade struck the ground. The blond boy jumped up, shooting out with his weapon and drawing a deep gash into Perseus' calf. Achilles smiled. He had drawn first blood.
The man hissed in pain and barely controlled rage then stabbed downwards.
Had it not been for his impenetrable skin, he would have been dead. The golden dagger slammed into his back, making him grunt. It hurt like hell, but he was satisfied, at least, when the dagger shattered into fragments. Perseus cursed as the shards ricocheted away from him.
He swore loudly, backing away. Achilles grinned, standing. His eyes flickered over to Perseus' last weapon, and he noticed his hold on it tightening. He licked his lips, then shot forward.
They clashed in a flurry of sparks, their weapons slamming into each other. Perseus flipped his weapon then slashed upward, but once again, Achilles ducked. Then he reared forward, slamming his head into Perseus'. The man grunted, and the son of Thetis spun around, delivering a solid right hook into Perseus' face. He heard the distinct sound of a bone cracking.
Achilles pulled away, waiting, alert. "Come at me," He panted out.
"Sod off," Perseus growled out.
This time, the clang their weapons made was louder. They hacked, stabbed, clashed and tried to chop each other to pieces. Achilles' gift saved him so many times-uncountable times. Perseus had caught him with his dagger so many times. If he did not have iron skin, he would have been six feet under thirty minutes ago.
The ferocity at which they fought and dodged each other's strikes was amazing. They were at equal strength, parrying and dancing around each other, panting with exertion, trying so hard to lop off each other's heads. They reared away from each other when it seemed none was winning.
"Who sent you?" Achilles snarled. He knew the answer. He just needed to be sure.
Perseus did not dignify him with a response. Achilles frowned. How many more people would be sent after him?
"I want-"
"Who's there?" The voice made him jerk around. Perseus froze. A guard. Achilles swore to himself, then glanced around.
"I will get to Troy, once I escape this place. And I will kill you when I do."
The dark-haired man arched an eyebrow. "We'll see about that, Graecus." He moved forward, but Achilles was quicker. The son of Thetis ducked away, just as Perseus hurled his knife. Achilles gasped when it swept past his heel, brushing with it a gush of wind. His eyes were wide, but he spurned his feet into action. He inhaled, racing down the passage and leaving his attacker in the darkness.
-X-
PATROCLUS tilted his head to the side, scanning the port with suspicion. Two moons. It had been two moons since he had last seen Achilles and he was so frustrated, he could kill someone.
He had gone to King Peleus' chamber, seeking out the golden-haired prince. Only to be told he had been taken away by his mother. Taken away by the same deity who had tried to shut down Patroclus' friendship with Achilles.
Patroclus pursed his lips. It had taken two weeks for the King to finally give in to Patroclus' pleas and tell him where Achilles had been taken. And he had instantly boarded a ship and headed to Skyros.
He began walking forward, away from the ship. Skyros was a small little kingdom. It was dainty and filled with a lot of humble homes. Patroclus' gaze travelled around him as he walked. He could see men, women and children, going about their businesses, playing games, selling and doing all sorts of things. Yes, Skyros was well-known, for it was one of the largest centres of trade in all of Greece.
In fact, Patroclus could see several merchant ships docking at the harbour. He narrowed his eyes slightly when he caught sight of a man alighting from one of the vessels. He looked familiar…
Patroclus started, blinking. Hadn't that been Odysseus? He blinked once more. The space he'd been staring at was vacant. No, it couldn't be the King of Ithaca. He had been present when King Peleus had told Odysseus and his companions that Achilles would not join the quest. He had seen them leave; had seen them being told that Thetis had taken Achilles to an unknown place.
Patroclus shook off his worry, then looked around once more. There was a huge palace in the distance, and if his perceptions about Thetis were right, then that was where his friend was.
He clenched his fist, then marched forward, in the direction of the court of King Lycomedes of Skyros. But first, he had to go through the market.
XMX
ACHILLES narrowed his eyes at the man who stood next to the princess. Perseus, the ambassador who had tried to kill him. He hadn't revealed all his secrets. Not yet. But Achilles knew he was just biding his time.
He had to get away from Skyros. He knew the man couldn't kill him, but he had almost succeeded in piercing his heel. And Achilles knew that Perseus did not know about his weak spot. Yet the fact that he had almost died shook him to the core.
Princess Deidamia was deep in conversation with the ambassador of Apollo as they walked. Perseus hadn't spared Achilles a single glance since that night, two days prior. When the princess had announced that she was going out of the palace, her father had asked that she show Perseus around the Island.
They were nearing the market now, and Achilles could see the numerous travellers flocking around the city square. He risked another glance at Perseus. Achilles cursed when their eyes met. The man passed him a shadow of a smirk.
"This is the market," The dark-eyed princess motioned to the square. The guards behind them had lagged behind a bit.
"Shall we go in? I would like to see a bit of Skyros before I must leave," Perseus said, voice questioning and formal.
"If you wish it," The Princess said, signalling to Achilles and the guards to follow. They walked into the busy market of the polis.
Achilles had gotten used to the market in his two-month stay in Skyros. He knew the stores and other stuff because he often accompanied the princess on her excursions outside the palace. There were always about twenty guards trailing them, today being no exception, so none dared to come near them, making him remain silent for the whole journey.
Achilles' eyes drifted to his left, then widened. That was new. He could see several tables, lined up, with several goods laid on them. Fruits, vegetables, antiques, even weapons. Where had they come from?
He eyed the two men standing next to the collection, calling out for customers. Achilles sighed, glancing longingly at the sword. He could be on Aulis by now, preparing to lead his forces against Troy.
But no. His matera had to coop him up on this Island. She-
He was broken out of his thoughts by the loud scream which ripped through the market. Achilles tensed. Then he heard more screams, yells and shouts. People scattered, running helter-skelter.
Achilles cursed when he heard the loud order, "Attack! Kill everyone and breach the palace!"
"Princess!" It was one of the guards. "We must leave, now!"
"Pyrrha!" Deidamia called his false name. "Come!"
The screams and pattering of feet got louder. Achilles felt adrenaline pump through his veins. He did not think; he just did.
Suddenly he was racing down the crowded road, towards the tables filled with goods and weapons. He was vaguely aware of his red wig falling off, but he did not care. He kicked off his sandals and hitched his dress to his knees. Achilles leaped onto the first table, flipping midair and landing on his feet.
Golden strands fell into his eyes.
He ran down the table, kicking off fruits, clothes and dresses. If he could just get to the swords…
His heart was pumping. He skidded to a stop before the weapons and grabbed one, unsheathing it out of its scabbard with the skill of a master swordsman.
"Achilles!" He heard the familiar voice and his head whipped to the side. His eyes widened. Patroclus? What was he doing there?
"Enough!" A loud voice rang out through the market. "Put away your weapons, boys. We found him."
Achilles blinked as the market stilled. The crowd parted ways and a troop of men marched forward, led by...Odysseus?
Achilles frowned in confusion.
The men came to a stop in front of him. "What a lovely dress you have, Achilles," Diomedes grinned at him. Achilles studied the black-haired king with suspicion. How had they known where he was.
"What-"
Suddenly Odysseus tensed in front of him. "You!" He snarled. Achilles turned. The King of Ithaca was glaring at Perseus. "It's a Trojan!" Achilles heard the gasps and the shinks of swords being drawn. "Kill him!"
Perseus had left the Princess' side. His hand was moving to his own weapon, but there was no fear on his face. He looked grim, but hardly scared.
The crowd surged forward, several swords glinting in the sunlight. Achilles stood, watching as they converged around the ambassador. He was aware of Patroclus leaping onto the table to join him.
Suddenly a brilliant white light flared in the marketplace. Achilles shut his eyes, cursing. They flew open once more when the light had died down. And then they widened. A goddess stood next to Perseus, silver eyes shining, white hair cascading down her shoulders. No words could describe her appearance.
She was perfection.
"Stand back, mortals," Her voice was ethereal. "Another step and I shall smite you all."
The market was quiet. The goddess reached out and grabbed Perseus by his shoulder. He didn't look surprised, at all. In another bright flare of white light, they had disappeared.
Odysseus did not look amused. He growled, turning back to Achilles. "Prepare yourself. We leave for Aulis at dawn."
-X-
PERSEUS stumbled away from Selene when they landed in the forests of Troy. Her gaze was on him as he regained his bearings and his eyes widened at the familiarity of it. She was the one who had been watching him. "You saved me," He said. "Thank you."
Selene tilted her head to the side, regarding him. "Your skills with weapons are good, I'll give you that. Better than the average demigod. But even you can't take on a whole city and survive."
He blinked. "Teach me, then." He cursed himself afterwards for blurting it out. Selene's eyes narrowed. Perseus gulped, then said, "Teach me to be better."
Her silver eyes bored into him. "I shall think about it. Your archery does need some work. A lot of it."
Perseus cracked a smile. "I know."
Selene released a huff of air. "Go back to the city. Tell the King what has conspired. Tell him, they are coming."
Perseus nodded, turning grim once more. "I will."
A/N: Alright, so the introductory arc is over and this story is going on hiatus. You can check out Hunters of the Sun on Wattpad—PART II just got completed. I am publishing a new story: The Guardians, centred in Ancient Greece, having nothing to do with Artemis and her hunt and those generic and overused Guardian of the gods stories. It's an AU and I hope you guys give it a chance. A teaser shall be posted in a few days. Thank you for reading Excidium Troiae. I promise I will be back soon. Review, vote, comment, all that jazz. Thanks. Bye!
-TripleHomicide.