Chapter four
eight years earlier
Apolla sits under a pomegranate tree in Priam's courtyard, weaving. Andromache sits beside her, a little girl in her lap. The child plays with the loose ends of Apolla's weaving, making Andromache to laugh. "Little Xanthe is getting so big." Apolla nods. Yes. So is Marpessa. Helen is very taken with the girl. Reminds her of her own baby, left behind when she came to Troy." Andromache nods. "And you? You're too young for a child of our own, of course, but any siblings at home?" Apolla shrugs. None from my mother, of course, but my father is a God. I have many siblings from his side. One sibling was a fool. Begged Apollo to let him drive the sun. Got arrogant and was killed by Zeus." Andromache smiles. "Yes. The Gods are another bunch entirely." She smiles as a shadow falls across a rosebush. "Welcome, Merrick. Please, come in."
Apolla glances up and blushes, and Merrick-Priam's youngest son, only eighteen-smiles shyly. "Forgive the intrusion, Lady Andromache. Hector wishes to see you and the child." Andromache nods. "Of course. Why don't you and Apolla get to know one another?" Merrick nods. "Y-yes. Of course." He sits down next to Apolla, as Andromache hurries out of the courtyard to her husband, who is grinning.
She smiles at him. "You don't need me, do you?" Hector laughs. "You caught me. I wanted to give those two a chance to get to know one another." He leans towards his wife. "Better for the girl that she marries Merrick instead of Deiphobus." They both lean around the corner a bit. Merrick takes Apolla's hand. I, um…well, I'm sure you know that my oldest brother Deiphobus. My father is willing to give your hand in marriage to him…on the condition that there is not another you prefer more." Apolla blushes. "Actually, there is someone." She sighs. "This may seem a bit forward, but…" She leans forward and presses her mouth to his. His eyes widen, and he wraps his arms around her.
Andromache politely turns away, making Hector do the same. "Give them some privacy." Finally, Merrick breaks away. "Wow," he gasps. "That was…wow." Apolla giggles. "Is that all you can say? Wow?" Merrick smiles. "That was amazing. You seem to be an expert." Apolla laughs. "Hardly. I've been kissed a few times, it is true. Ioulaus, once, on a bet." She looks down. "There was one time…one person who I thought I'd marry, but things didn't work out. War changes people. He changed too." Merrick nods. "I understand." He laughs. "Deiphobus will be furious." Apolla giggles. "I know."
eight years later
'Achilles does not fight today.' The words bounced around in Apolla's head, haunting her. She didn't know what to think, how she needed to feel. She went to the one person who could understand. She asked Helen. "Lady Helen, how do you do it?" Helen smiled, confused. "Do what, dear?" Apolla chuckled nervously. "This! Watch the battle, knowing that no matter what the outcome, you lose friends?" Helen nodded. "It is difficult, is it not? I do the only thing we can do. I pray, and sometimes, the Gods take pity on us and answer our prayers. We can do no more than that."
Chapter five
seven years earlier
"This is magnificent!" Priam booms. "Tomorrow, we shall present my youngest son's future bride to her new city!" Hector shakes his head, laughing. "And bestow all honors imaginable upon her, I'm sure. The poor girl will hate us!" Priam smiles. "My son, Apolla has already received the highest honor this court can give her. She is receiving Merrick." Hector laughs. "Speaking of her, here she comes now." Priam takes Apolla's hand. "My child, tomorrow you shall officially be presented as a princess of Troy." Apolla smiles. "Apolla of Troy, I like it. I just…" Hector takes her aside, giving her a concerned look. "If any of the old man's honors are too much, do not hesitate to tell him. He means well, but he does not know how to love a daughter without suffocating her. Cassandra never demanded much from him." Apolla nods. "Yes, but that is not the problem. I'm worried about my friends. I want them to still be my friends after this war is over, but they have probably forgotten me." Hector smiles. "About that…come with me."
seven years later
"The great Achilles is dead!" The cry went up around the city. Plans for a feast were immediately made. Apolla, however, did not join the celebrations. She studied the corpse outside the walls. "It's not Achilles," she murmured. Then, louder, "It's not Achilles!" The word traveled quickly down the wall. "Not Achilles!" Hector's troops retreated, and Apolla and Andromache were both at the gate when Hector arrived. Hector embraced his wife briefly. "Andromache, Apolla and I must talk privately. Please, wait for me in the palace." Andromache nodded silently, turning and disappearing. Hector faced Apolla. 'Who was he?" Apolla turned, thinking. "Patroclus, cousin and companion to Achilles. Achilles did not fight today. A quarrel with Agamemnon. Tomorrow, he will call your blood." Hector nodded. "And he shall have his fight. Tomorrow, one of us shall not come back." Apolla smiled weakly. "I can only hope it will be you who returns." Hector nodded. "Perhaps the Gods will be kind. Come. We must return to the palaces."
Chapter Five
seven years earlier
Apolla steals a glance at Hector from the corner of her eye. He is intently driving the wagon, borrowed from a city farmer. His gaze is focused ahead, on the Greek camp. For a moment, something like horror flashes through Apolla's mind. 'Is he sending me back to them?' she wonders. As though he can read her mind, Hector turns to smile at her. "You are not being released, Apolla. The war still goes on, therefore, you a virtually still a prisoner. However…" he trails off, waving a hand in front of him. Standing outside the Greek camp, grinning broadly, is someone Apolla recognizes quite well. She smiles. "Iolaus!" He grins back. "Good to see you, Apolla. Everyone's been worried sick about you." Apolla laughs. "Where is everyone else? Hercules, Jason…where are they?" Iolaus' smile widens. "Herc! Jason! You might want to come see this!" Apolla looks behind her. A fair-haired, skinny youth of about her age and a darker, more muscular man a year older hurry forward. The skinnier one rushes to Apolla's side. "Apolla! It is good to see you again!" Apolla smiles. "Same to you, Herc." She smiles at the other man. "And you, Jason. How have you fared?" He grins. "Better than most."
He glances behind him; a tall, tanned, muscular man has stepped forward. He too smiles at Apolla. "Welcome back. Have the Trojans treated you well?" Apolla laughs. "Yes, Achilles. And you should be careful whom you say things like that around, with Hector standing right here!" Achilles embraces her. "You have not changed." He and Hector exchange a glance over her head, a look of mutual agreement: No one is to be harmed today. Achilles releases her. "Wait here, there's someone who'll wish to see you." He vanishes, returning momentarily leading a centaur. Apolla rushes over to him. "Cheiron!" Cheiron smiles, embracing her. "It is good to see you again, Apolla."
Apolla smiles, whispering something into Cheiron's ear. Cheiron beams. "Then you will stay. It seems Troy is your home now." Apolla grins. "Thank you." She looks at all of her friends. "I hope to see all of you after the war. Alive, hopefully." She glances at Hector. "Thank you for bringing me here." Hector nods. "Of course. We must be getting back, though. The sun will begin to set soon. Apollo has already begun his descent towards the sea." He grins at everyone. "It was good to meet all of you. Perhaps this war will not have to drag on so long after all."
seven years later
Not a sound was heard from the walls of Troy. The only sounds Apolla could hear were her own heart pounding, and Achilles shouting. She shot a glance at the heavy gate, where Hector stood, waiting for the battle. Tomorrow, one of us shall not come back. His prophetic words echoed in her head. She shuddered, and Merrick wrapped a strong arm gently around her. "Hector will be triumphant," he said confidently. Apolla nodded, distracted. "I hope," she muttered. Finally, Hector and Achilles approached each other. The battle, however bloody it might become, was to start fairly. Swords were drawn, oaths and prayers murmured. Finally, it began. Apolla couldn't look, so she hid her face in Merrick's chest. After what seemed like an eternity, a roar from the watching city drew her gaze. Hector had Achilles down, and was preparing to strike. However, something knocked his sword from his hand, and Achilles gained the advantage. His strike was swift and lethal. Hector lay dying on the sand outside the city. Almost no one was close enough to hear the words he spoke to Achilles, but hear them Apolla did. "Remember me," he rasped. "Remember me when my brother Paris kills you in the shadows of the Skaian Gate!" As soon as Hector was dead, Achilles began digging a hole into each of his calves. Apolla felt a scream tear through her throat, coupled with the yelling of the rest of the city. Achilles began to drag Hector's body with his chariot. Hecuba fainted, Priam yelled terrible things-he wished it had been any of his other sons-and Andromache was sobbing.
Merrick grabbed Apolla's arm, dragging her off the wall. "Apolla, you look as though you're about to faint. Come, we will return. There is no more we can do here." Apolla nodded, numbly, and tried to get her stubborn legs to obey. Merrick begins to leave, but turns back, suddenly, seized by an idea. "You knew, didn't you?" Apolla frowned. "What?" "You knew!" Merrick turned on her, furious, blinded by rage and grief. "You knew Hector would die, and yet you let him fight! How could you do that to him? To my family? To me? I trusted you, and you let my brother die! How dare you? Filthy Greek whore!" His hand flew before he could stop himself, and he slapped Apolla across the mouth.
Apolla's head spun, nearly carrying her around with the momentum. She glared at Merrick. "No. The question is, how dare you? You spend eight years telling me how much you love me, and that you'll never hurt me, and what do I get the minute something goes wrong? I get the blame! I get called a whore! I didn't cause this war! Helen did! If you have a grievance over the outcome, blame her! And don't ever lay a hand on me again! I don't want you to touch me! Bastard!" Merrick raised his hand again. "If you ever speak to me like that again…" "You'll what? Beat me? Need I remind you who I am the daughter of, Merrick?" She turned. "I'm going to go stay with Andromache for awhile. She'll need help to get through this, and I want nothing to do with you!" She marched away, angrily.
As soon as she was out of Merrick's sight, she doubled over in pain. Oh Gods, she thought, moaning in agony. What is this fresh torment you bestow upon my body? She felt as though a thousand knives were stabbing her body, and she collapsed to her knees. Almost instantly, she felt strong arms around her body, and she turned her head enough to see her father standing above her. He wore a sad look on his face. "I'm sorry you had to witness the tragedy that occurred today without warning. But we knew that if you were told, you'd warn Hector, and he'd try to avoid his destiny." Apolla nodded, unable to speak through the pain. Apollo understood at once. "Oh, my poor child. Aphrodite will see to you at once."
He vanished, and Aphrodite stood in his place, in blue robes, with her golden hair streaming around her face. "Sweet child," she cooed. "You're with child of your own. I will not interfere, except to ease your pain. You must have this baby. The prophecy demands it." She snapped her fingers, and the pain vanished, along with the Goddess. Helen was heading towards her, Andromache in tow. "Help me get her to the palace," she ordered. Apolla grabbed Andromache arm gently. "Come, we must return."
Chapter six
six years earlier
"This prophecy which you speak of," Hector was speaking to his father, in a tone which clearly said he thought Priam had lost his mind. "What exactly does it say?" Priam shook his head. "I told you. The soothsayer was not specific. All I was told was that the future of Troy lies in the hands of a son of Troy and a daughter of Greece. Apolla and Merrick must be wed." Hector nodded. "Right. And this prophecy, it was specific about it being Apolla and Merrick? Because Paris and Helen are a son of Troy and a daughter of Greece. They could be whom the prophecy was referring to." "No," Priam said. "It must being Apolla and Merrick. There is no other way."
six years later
Apolla avoided Merrick's eye at dinner. There was food, at least, something resembling food, but no one was eating. The Singer, Priam's old friend, stood, singing a funereal mass for Hector's soul, and for the return of his body. Andromache shed not a tear, though Apolla's eyes were moist and shining. Finally, the dinner ended. Merrick caught Apolla's arm gently. "About earlier. Let me apologize. I wasn't thinking clearly. Can you forgive me?" Apolla faced him. "It seems that even if I didn't want to, I would have no choice but to forgive you. I am with child, Merrick. We are going to have a baby."
