Later on in the day, Priam and Hector were talking alone about Paris and Helen in the great hall of the palace.
"It is the will of the gods. Everything is in their hands. But I'm surprised you let him bring her."
"If I'd let him fight Menelaus for her, you'd be burning a son's body instead of welcoming a daughter."
"We could send peace envoys to Menelaus."
"You know Menelaus is, father. He would spear the envoys' heads to his gate."
"What woud you have me do?"
"Put her on a ship and send her home."
Priam stares at the sea and thinks about Paris' past actions with women.
"Women have always loved Paris and he's loved them back, but this is different. Something has changed in him. If we send her back to Menelaus, he will follow."
Hector stands and joins his father in the archway. He gestures outside. The city of Troy is bustling with life, the citizens of the city going about their business.
"This is my country. These are my countrymen. I don't want to see them suffer so my brother can have his 's not just the Spartans coming after her. By now Menelaus has gone to Agamemnon, and Agamemnon's wanted to destroy us for years. Once we're out of the way he controls the seas."
"Enemies have been attacking us for centuries. Our walls still stand."
"Father. We can't win this war."
"Apollo watches over us. Even Agamemnon is no match for the gods."
"And how many battalions does the sun god command?"
"Do not mock the you were very young you came down with scarlet fever. Your little hands were so hot. The healer said you wouldn't last the night. I went down to Apollo's temple and I prayed until the sun came up. That walk back to the palace was the longest of my life. But I went into your mother's room and you were sleeping in her arms. The fever had broken. I promised that day to dedicate my life to the gods. I will not break my promise. For thirty years I've worked for peace. Thirty years. Paris is a fool sometimes. I know that. But I'll fight a thousand wars before letting him die."
Hector looks past the city to the sea. The waters are empty now, but he knows what's coming.
"Forgive me, father. But you won't be the one fighting."
Paris paces about the room. Helen stands in the archway looking out to the dark sea. The wind blows through her hair.
"They're coming for me. The wind is bringing them closer."
Paris stops pacing and stares at her.
"What if we left? Tonight, right now, what if we went down to the stables, took two horses and left. Ride east, and keep riding."
"And go where?"
"Away from here. I could hunt deer, rabbit. I could feed us."
"This is your home."
"You left for home for me."
"My father was King Tydareus of Sparta. The only reason Menelaus is king is because he married me. My brothers never wanted to be kings."
"We'll live off the land. No more palaces for us, no more servants. We don't need any of that."
"And your family?"
"We'd be protecting my family! If we're not here there's no need for a war!"
"Menelaus won't give up. He'll track us to the end of the world."
"He doesn't know these lands. I do. We can lose ourselves in a day."
"You don't know Menelaus. You don't know his brother. They'll burn every house in Troy to find us. They'll never believe we've left, and even if they do, they'll burn Troy for spite."
Paris considers her words and finally nods.
"Then I'll make it easy for him to find me. I'll walk right up to him and tell him you're mine."
Helen wraps her arms around Paris and rests her chin on his shoulder.
"You're very young, my love."
"We're the same age!"
"You're younger than I ever was."
The next day, the sun rose above Troy and the Trojan countryside and life when about as usual. In the main square,dozens of citizens kneel before the statue of Poseidon and lay down their offerings. Bundles of flowers, small carvings, goatskins filled with wine.
On the beach, prepare a series of fortifications at the beach. Men carrying torches ignite giant pumice urns filled with burning pitch. Others hammer long spikes deep into the sand to hinder enemies rushing up from the beach. There is little conversation and the men look tense. Everything is touched with an air of extreme urgency.
A temple of Apollo overlooks the beach. Inside the temple, two priests carve strips of fat from a roasted pig and lay them on the god's altar, muttering chants as they perform the ritual. Briseis, the newest temple acolyte, stands beside the priests, pouring ceremonial wine on the stone floor. Chryseis, the daughter of the high priest Chryses, disperses incense onto the altar. Cassandra, the daughter of King Priam, bows before the altar. They say Cassandra rejected the advances of Apollo, and so he cursed her, but she still bows before him.
Merchants in the marketplace set up their stalls and display their goods. Wine, olive oil, dates, figs, nuts, spices, fabrics, and dyes. The bronzesmith hammers a bronze sword into shape.
In the countryside, a shepherd watches over his sheep. A farmer and his son lead a team of yoked oxen to the fields. In the sea, four fishermen in a small boat a mile from the shore, spread their nets into the water.
In the guard tower, two sentries stand in a corner of Troy's city walls, sipping hot broth from bowls. A large flag, emblazoned with Troy's horse emblem, flies above the tower. The first sentry blows steam off his soup. He raises his eyes, blinks and squints into the distance. He bolts upright. The second sentry stands and follows his partner's gaze out to the sea. Both of them stand slack-jawed.
A thousand Hellene warships were seen on the horizon. The second sentry grabs a gong tapper and begins hammering the brass gong hanging from the tower's lintel. Sentry #1 still stares at the swarm of ships. No Trojan has ever seen such a force.
Sentries in other guard towers hammer their warning gongs.
Hector sits on his and and his wife's bed. He his holding is baby son as Andromache watches them both. The boy plays with the wood lion Hector carved on the journey back from Sparta. The city bells begin to ring. Hector looks at his wife and walks to the balcony, where he can see over the city walls to the Aegean. He sees a thousand enemy sails. For a moment he stares at the armada before hurrying back into the palace.
In the great hall, Priam kneels before a grand statue of Zeus in the great hall. The Thunder God, his stone face a mask of rage, thunderbolts clutched in his stone hands, stares down at the old king. Listening to the bells, Priam takes a deep breath and Looks up into Zeus's eyes. The father of the gods stares back.
Panic in the streets of Troy. Merchants quickly pack away their goods. Mothers run into the streets looking for their children. Young men hurry to the armory. A mad rush to get inside the safety of the city walls. The farmer and his son hastily load provisions onto a wagon. The shepherd hurries his herd toward the Trojan gates. He's joined by hundreds of country dwellers racing for sanctuary. The fishermen row desperatley for shore. The armada draws closer to shore. One ship sails far ahead of the rest. Its sail is black.