A/N: Welcome to chapter seven of ARC II of Perseus: Excidium Troiae. Enjoy.
P.S—This chapter is short.
PERSEUS watched from his spot in the trees, eyes narrowed and squinted, trying to catch sight of the son of Thetis who had wanted to kill him in Skyros. He saw Achilles, standing near the beach next to a dark haired boy and another brown haired middle-aged man. The son of Thetis looked older now. If Perseus' calculation was correct then Achilles was exactly twenty-three summers. His eyes roamed the entire terrain, and he frowned when he saw Odysseus and Menelaus deep in conversation. Those were the only ones he recognised—although they were a bit older—and none else.
"Are you sure I can't burn their ships right now?" He questioned, voice low. The son of Anchises glanced to the side, eyebrow arched questioningly at the god of the sun.
"No," Apollo said, voice hard. "You cannot interfere. Zeus has granted them safe passage to Troy because they offered the correct sacrifices and prayed to us all for a good voyage."
"But," Perseus bit his bottom lip, his hold on the tree branch tightening. "You told me that you had a plan to delay them. How can we do this if we're not allowed to interfere?" He demanded.
"Be patient," Apollo advised. "Artemis said she has something in mind. If we play our cards right they'll never get to Troy." He wasn't satisfied with the god's answer, but it was the best he would get and he knew it. He would just have to wait and see what exactly happened.
He watched as the Greeks all moved towards their ships. They were a lot, far more than the Trojan army, and that was saying something. Immediately Apollo had informed him of the second gathering, the green eyed man had told Hector and Priam. As of now, Troy was sending messages to several of the surrounding cities and all of her allies. That included his brother. Aeneas would be returning home with an army which could match Troy's in size. Several of his city's allies would also be coming. Hopefully, they would be enough to combat the might of the Graeceans.
He squinted once more to see properly. The son of Anchises could make out the fair haired Achilles, now at the prow of one of his ships, shouting orders to men down below. In a matter of minutes the ships were ready to sail. He scowled. If Apollo and Artemis were going to do anything it had to be now.
The sails were raised, the oars began moving. He tensed in the leaves, ready to spring into action. The ships moved. And then lurched to a stop. Perseus relaxed, then turned to glance at the sun god. "What did Artemis do?"
"I stopped the winds," The goddess in question appeared next to her brother in harsh silver light. "Father cannot punish me because it is well in my rights to do so. I've been wronged by Agamemnon and the slight cannot go unpunished."
Perseus nodded his approval, then asked, "What did he do though?"
"The filthy mongrel killed one of my sacred deer," The moon goddess snarled, and he could already feel the anger pulsing around her. "I cannot let that stand."
The dark haired Trojan grinned. The twin gods were crafty, that much was certain. Artemis was killing two birds with one stone. He could see some of the Greeks backtracking, others trying to row forward but unable to move. After what seemed like hours, all the ships were back at the beach. The frustration on Achilles' face was visible, and Perseus beamed at the sight. Several others looked thoughtful, and more seemed confused. The Kings and commanders met, just a few feet away from Perseus and the two gods.
"What is the meaning of this?" One man asked in visible anger. "We keep getting derailed and held back."
"The gods are not pleased with us," Achilles spoke up. "Obviously. Someone has done something to offend them. First that storm eight years ago, now this."
"But who?" Menelaus looked exasperated. "We made sure to perform all the necessary sacrifices this time. We—"
"The sacrifices were performed to perfection," A voice spoke up. "But a particular goddess is angry. And with only one of us."
"That's Calchas," Apollo whispered. "He's a prophet of mine. A seer to be exact. Artemis, has the message been sent?"
"Yes," The silver eyed goddess nodded in response.
"Lady Artemis has been offended by you, Agamemnon," Calchas motioned to the man with the brightest armour and biggest crown.
"What?" The High King looked taken aback and Perseus grinned once more.
"The maiden goddess has refused to allow the winds to move until she has been appeased," Calchas continued. "You offended her by killing a sacred deer of hers a few months ago, and the only way we can get to Troy now is if you sacrifice to her your daughter." The man paused. "Iphigenia."
Perseus' felt as though his heart had stopped. Ice filled his bones. Horror engulfed him and he almost fell out of the tree as he turned sharply to the twin archers. "What the—"
"There's someone here!" Achilles' voice cut him off. Perseus swivelled on the branch just in time to see a spear sailing towards him. Swearing, Apollo grabbed his shoulder and they dissolved into golden mist.
They reappeared in the forests of Troy, the place where Perseus and Artemis used for their training, and instantly he tore his shoulder away from the god of the sun and stared at the two deities in disgust.
"How?" He demanded. "How can you have a father sacrifice his own daughter?!"
Artemis' eyes flashed silver and she stepped forward. "That's the whole idea. Do not get angry at me when you do not have all the information, Perseus. I—"
"Peace, sister," The golden god held out a hand, stopping the man-hating goddess. Apollo moved to him, looking tentative.
"Listen, Perseus," He began. "Agamemnon is a father. No father would crave war so much that he would sacrifice his own daughter for it. That's the plan. We give them an impossible decision to make, and as he won't sacrifice Iphigenia, the winds will never pick up and they will never sail for Troy."
"They'll never be able to go back home either!" Perseus snapped. He didn't know why he was so angry. But still, killing one's own family member was an abomination. It was the worst sin anyone could commit. Even if Agamemnon did it to appease Artemis, the rest of the gods would strike him down for it. The idea was a good one, if he was being honest, but it was being implemented on an assumption that Agamemnon loved his daughter, which they couldn't really be certain of. It didn't matter if he was her father or not. At that thought, his mind strayed to Poseidon.
He scowled. Sure, he was happy that Troy would be safe for a few more weeks or perhaps forever, if they're plan worked. But another part of him—the part that stood for everything good, his moral side, was against the entire thing.
"Yes, well, they should have thought of that before they decided to gather and try to attack my city," Apollo began glowing. "Calm yourself, Perseus. I will update you on the situation in a few days. For now, head back to the palace. Aeneas has arrived, and Hector is waiting for news."
Artemis shot him an unreadable look and vanished into silver. Running a hand through his hair in frustration, he began the trek back towards the palace of Troy.
-X-
AENEAS stood on the balcony, lips pursed, eyes roving around the entire city. It had been next to five years since King Priam had given him the Kingdom north of Troy to rule after his cousin without heirs had died. Sure, Dardania was great. But Troy would always be home. Since he'd taken dominion of the city, he only visited Perseus, Hector and the rest of the royal family on special occasions.
He glanced down from the balcony when he heard footsteps approaching the palace gates. Aeneas smiled when he saw his brother. It had been so long since he had seen him. They kept in contact through letters and visits, and immediately he had been sent the message that the Greeks were on their way a day ago, he had thundered down the mountain path and come back home, thousands of the soldiers under his command following.
He spun, and hurried out of the room and through the corridors. After a few minutes of rushed walking he bumped into his brother at an archway near Hector's room.
A grin lit up his face, and he rushed forward, grabbing Perseus and pulling him into a tight embrace. Since the time he had become a prince eight or nine years ago, Priam had been preparing him to take over the leadership of Dardania. He had never gotten enough time to spend with his brother, and Hector was almost always busy. They had been apart for a while, yes, but he knew that their bond would never be broken.
Perseus returned the hug, his hold tighter than Aeneas', body tense. When they finally pulled away from each other, his brother said, "Aeneas, I was just on my way to your chambers."
"I know," He told him. "I saw you from the balcony."
"I missed you," Perseus admitted. He held Aeneas at shoulder length, taking him in. "You look different." It was true. He was taller now, and a bit more muscular than before. He guessed that came with ageing though. It had been a while, after all.
"Good or bad different?" He asked.
"Great," Perseus laughed. And then he frowned, as though he had suddenly remembered something. "Where's Hector?"
"Right here," The Polemarchos rounded the corner and came towards them. "I was dining with Andromache. A guard told me you wanted to see me?"
"Yes, I have a lot of things to tell you," Aeneas' brother said. "But we need somewhere private."
"My chambers are okay," Aeneas suggested, brow furrowing in worry. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what exactly had made his brother so dishevelled. But although he wanted to spend as much time as he could with Perseus and Hector, there was war on the horizon, and they couldn't be seen dallying about instead of preparing. "Creusa is out with Cassandra and Hecuba in the city-proper."
"Good," The green eyed man said. "Come." Aeneas didn't have to lead the way. Even after all that time, his brother still remembered the way to his chambers in Troy, and it seemed that Hector did too.
"Make yourselves comfortable," He said when they got to the room. Perseus made a beeline for the bed. Hector collapsed on the ground, and Aeneas moved to sit near the window.
He smiled as Perseus buried his head into a pillow and groaned. Hector ran a hand through his hair, looking tired and worn. Being with each other, that was the only time they could be themselves. There were no rules, no codes of conduct, and no prying court officials looking to find fault with whatever they said.
"What's got your panties in such a nasty twist, Perseus?" Hector asked, laying his back on the rug.
"I was just on Aulis, with Apollo and Artemis. And the Greeks." Aeneas turned stiff, head snapping over to his brother. Hector sat up in alarm.
"What happened?"
"That's what I was going to tell you, dunderhead," Perseus rolled his eyes. "Apollo and Artemis made a plan to stop them. They sent a message through a seer that the winds would not move to allow them to sail here as long as Agamemnon's daughter Iphigenia still lives. The High King killed Artemis' sacred deer and so they told the Greeks that unless he sacrifices his daughter to Artemis, they won't be sailing anywhere."
Aeneas was silent as he took in the information. He sighed, now knowing what exactly was making Perseus scowl and frown so much. If he was being totally honest, he wasn't really surprised. The gods made stupid decisions and plans all the time. This time was no different. He exchanged a glance with Hector.
"I mean," Hector began. "It's a good idea, isn't it? A father would never sacrifice his own daughter. Aside from loving her—if he does, that is—the rest of the gods would strike him down."
"That's exactly what Apollo said," Perseus agreed.
"And he's right," Aeneas spoke up. "You shouldn't let it bother you too much. Troy is safe and that's what matters, right?"
"Right," Perseus muttered. "But still, for some reason I can't explain, it bothers me that they're going to such lengths—"
"They're doing it for us, Perseus," Aeneas told him. "Their method might be wrong but they just want Troy protected from the Achaeans." He faced his brother. Perseus looked as though he had been given something bitter to eat. Aeneas sighed. If this had happened eight years ago he would have been against it as much as Perseus was. But he was a King now, and since he had started ruling over Dardania with Creusa, he had had to change, and make a lot of decisions he didn't like. But they had all been necessary decisions, just like this one, even though it seemed a bit extreme.
"Look, enough about the Greeks," Hector admonished. "They've already stolen most of our time with training hard to prepare for their arrival. There's no need for them to take away what little more we have to ourselves. It's been a while. Let's stop thinking about war. Let's talk."
Perseus smiled ruefully. "Yeah, it's been a while since we did that."
"Right," Aeneas nodded, then turned to his brother. "So, what's new?"
"I heard about something from Deiphobus," Hector spoke up, grinning like a child. "Is it true you and Polyxena have been making the palace beds creak?"
A look of indignation passed over Perseus' face as he yelled, "No!" Hector and Aeneas burst out laughing. His green eyed brother had turned scarlet, and he sounded genuinely horrified at the suggestion and Aeneas found himself laughing harder. They spent the rest of the day talking, laughing, and hiding away from the pressures of war and life.
-X-
ACHILLES paced inside his tent. It had been a good while since he had thrown that spear at the tree. And yet, no matter how many prayers and sacrifices they had made, the gods hadn't answered. Calchas had remained adamant that the only way to sail to Troy was to get Iphigenia sacrificed. The men got impatient. There were calls of going back home, but whenever they had tried, the winds had stopped once more. It was annoying that the gods kept toying with them and delaying them in this way.
Finally, after several meetings and deliberations and arguments, Agamemnon had agreed to bring in his daughter. It was sickening, that his hand had been forced in such a way. Achilles had been against the entire thing. Sure, he wanted to get to Troy, but killing an innocent girl?
That he was against.
And to top it off, they had sent a message to Tiryns telling Iphigenia that she was to come with Odysseus so she would be married to Achilles. The son of Thetis was angry that he was being implicated in such a matter. He continued pacing, and he barely heard Patroclus calling his name.
"Prince Achilles," The soldier which appeared in the entrance of his tent was foreign, dressed in the bronze gear with a sigil he recognised as belonging to Menelaus' soldiers. "The ship has arrived."
Achilles nodded, pursing his lips. He turned to Patroclus and said, "Come." Together they made their way towards the beach. When Achilles got there most of the army was present. Calchas stood next to the altar which had been waiting for Iphigenia's arrival since Odysseus had set sail weeks before. He saw the said Ithican King, standing next to a fair haired maiden and Agamemnon. The girl was beautiful, and had bright green eyes, and the plumpest lips he had ever seen. She wore a white peplos and brown sandals. Her head was bowed.
"Achilles," Odysseus spotted him and waved. "You're here."
"Of course," He nodded. However badly he disliked what was going on, he knew it would be improper to miss such an occasion.
"Okay, then," Lesser Ajax called. "Everything is ready?"
"Yes," Calchas nodded. He turned to Menelaus and Odysseus. "Seize her."
Iphigenia stiffened and cried out when four soldiers swarmed her. She let out a scream as they began dragging her towards the altar. "Father! Father, what is going on?"
Achilles frowned and glanced away, where he met Patroclus' eyes. His friend looked disgusted. Iphigenia's screams fell on deaf ears, although the entire beach was silent. "Father! Help me!" Agamemnon stared at her, jaw clenched. He moved forward, grabbing an axe from a soldier standing nearby
"Lay her on the altar!" Calchas ordered.
The men slammed a screaming and struggling Iphigenia onto the rocks. She shouted and the Prince winced slightly. As the men held down the now sobbing princess, Calchas raised his hands.
"Artemis! Goddess of maidens! Protector of the young! We have come to you on our knees, we beg your forgiveness on behalf of our brother Agamemnon! We pray for your mercies and ask that you allow us passage off this Island. Take this offering, a young maiden, as a sign of our loyalty to the gods and to you!"
He lowered his hands. Achilles glanced up. The sky had darkened considerably. Clouds covered the sun. Calchas motioned to the High King and he lifted the weapon. Iphigenia let out a last blood-curdling scream. The axe came down.
Suddenly the wind picked up and a blur of silver dashed past Achilles. He barely saw the figure as it streaked past the axe bearer, faster than humanly possible. Bright light engulfed the beach and Achilles had to shut his eyes.
When the light died down and he opened his eyes, there was blood on the altar.
But there was no sign of the young woman. Just a very dead brown deer, where Princess Iphigenia had been before.
-X-
PERSEUS scowled at Apollo. The god had the decency to look ashamed. "I-I didn't know they would actually go through with it."
Scoffing, the son of Anchises turned. He could see the Greeks well enough, from his spot in the sun chariot. They were silent, obviously in shock at what they had just seen.
"Where will Artemis take her?"
"I don't know," Apollo glanced away. "But she can't go home now. She will join the hunters or become a priestess of my sister."
Perseus ran a hand through his hair. If Artemis hadn't intervened when she did… He didn't want to think of what might have happened. He pursed his lips and turned back to the golden god. "What now?" Apollo was silent, eyes shut, head tilted to the side. Finally, his eyelids peeled open and he sighed.
"Zeus commands that Artemis and I allow the Greeks to pass," He told the demigod. "He's angry with our interference."
"Take me home, then," The green eyed soldier demanded. "I must warn the others. It won't take long for the Greeks to reach Troy from here."
"You're right," Apollo acknowledged with a nod. "There is no delaying them. Not anymore." He was correct. Perseus could already see the Achaeans packing up their tents and belongings. Soldiers were already streaming onto the ships.
"We have to go. Now."
-X-
ACHILLES stood at the side of his ship, looking out into the ocean. The waves were steady and the entire place was silent and eerie. The winds had picked up immediately the sacrifice had been made and hurriedly all of them had boarded their vessels.
They were coming for Troy.
Achilles was confused. He didn't understand exactly what had happened on the Island. Several of the men had come up with their own theories—some that the girl had turned into an animal, others that a god had intervened, and a few were saying Iphigenia had never arrived at all.
But Achilles knew what he had seen and he was more inclined to agree with the second option. Sighing to himself, he leaned onto the wood. The wind was blowing softly, sending his hair floating around his face. It was soothing.
"You must enjoy these moments while it lasts," He stiffened, and then relaxed, recognising the voice. The warrior turned and spotted his mother, standing behind him. She looked timeless, the familiar blue hue of her skin was the same as it had always been. Her hair fell in ringlets around her shoulders.
"Mother," He smiled tightly.
"Achilles," She reached for him. When they broke the hug, she asked, "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"
His face hardened. "We've been over this, mother. I must."
"You speak as though you do not have a choice," Thetis said, voice soft. "You can still turn back."
"I do not wish to," He told her.
"I know," She sighed. "I suppose I cannot change your mind." His mother paused. "But I can give you some advice. When you see land, do not kill King Tenes of Tenedos, even though he is an ally of the Trojans. He is a son of Apollo and the Olympian shall strike anyone who kills the king down. Make sure it is not you."
"Alright," He nodded acceptingly. "I'll do well to ask any king who attacks me his name before killing him." At his mother's expression, he laughed. "Do not fret, mater." He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "I'll not kill Tenes. I promise."
She nodded, seemingly relieved by his answer. "I wish you luck, my son," The nymph said. "May the gods go with you."
XMX
THEY DOCKED ON an Island for supplies a week later. Achilles didn't know what the name was. And he didn't particularly care.
Each of the kingdoms sent someone. Almost none of the Kings chose to go, but he didn't care about that either. He wanted to feel the earth beneath his feet once more. He was sick of seeing the blue calm sea for a week straight. After putting Phoenix in charge he had met up with the other representatives from the other ships.
"You're Achilles, right?" A gruff voice said at his shoulder. He turned, an eyebrow arched at the man speaking to him. He had black hair and a grubby beard and he wore no armour, just a bow and a quiver on his shoulder, over his white chiton.
"I am," Achilles nodded. Most of the men had already departed. They had determined that the Island was empty, but it was full of food and water and they would be refilling for the journey ahead.
"You're with me, then," The man acknowledged. "Agamemnon asked that I accompany you. I am Prince Philoctetes of Meliboea." Achilles narrowed his eyes. He didn't understand what game the High King was playing now, but he did recognise the name.
Philoctetes had been a friend of Heracles the Great. He had even inherited the hero's bow and arrows…which must be what the man was armed with right now.
"Alright, then," He accepted. "We have three hours to gather the supplies." The man nodded and turned. Together, they made their way into the forest, each clutching onto several empty sacks.
XMX
ACHILLES plucked a very red apple from a tree and tossed it into his sack. They both worked in relative silence, gathering fruits and vegetables and refilling the many water skins they had brought along. They came across many of the other men. A few were hunting for meat, others searching for herbs, and many others finding fruits and vegetables.
"Hey," Philoctetes called to him. "I need your help over here!" Achilles turned. The hunter held a particularly large fruit in his hands. "Could you hold open my sack while I put this in?"
"Sure." He moved next to the prince and grasped the bag. Achilles watched in mild boredom as the man placed the fruit inside.
"Thank—ARGH!" The son of Thetis shot up in shock, hand moving to his sword and darting towards the other man. "What's wrong?" He asked, glancing around for any sign of an enemy.
"Snake," Philoctetes hissed out. Achilles' eyes flickered around. He saw the long body of a serpent disappearing under a bush. Achilles swore and bent, examining the wound on the man's heel. It was bleeding and surrounded with a green but transparent liquid—venom.
"We need to get you back to the ships," He told him. Philoctetes gritted his teeth and nodded. Allowing the man to lean on him, he led him back to the ships in the distance.
-X-
ACHILLES glanced at the shore in the distance, clenching his jaw. This was it. They were finally here. It had been almost three weeks since they had set sail. He remembered everything that had stood against them in their attempt to get to Troy. First the ten-years-of-war news, then Mysias, the storm, then the sacrifice. And then Philoctetes had been bitten. He frowned as he remembered what had happened.
They had tried to heal the snake bite but it hadn't been possible. And then the wound had begun festering and smelling and Odysseus had advised them all to abandon the hunter on Lemnos. Achilles had been against it and he scowled when he remembered the argument he'd had with Odysseus then, and Agamemnon later. In the end he had been outvoted and they had left Philoctetes behind. A different man had taken charge of his troops.
They had kept travelling for days, and then finally had spotted Troy. The previous night they docked on a nearby Island. And then Calchas had given the prophecy that was currently bothering Achilles. He remembered the seer's words clearly.
The first man to step foot on Trojan soil shall be the first to die in battle.
He frowned, sighing to himself. They would just have to figure this out when they got there. Troy was just a few feet away and Achilles inhaled, swinging his spear. He turned and nodded to Patroclus and Phoenix, grabbing his shield and strapping it to his arm.
They had come. Troy would fall.
A/N: :)