Will More Strongly

Will More Strongly


Chapter XVIII


The injured brunette clutched tightly to the edge of the railing, praying that his knees would not give out under him as he attempted to descend the staircase. He needed to get back to the Greek camp and Achilles. He could not rationalize why Achilles had allowed his father to take him away. Achilles had sworn that they would never be separated again. Achilles had promised him.

Once he had been able to remain conscious for longer periods of time he came to the decision that he would get back to Achilles. He would not be parted from his beloved. He would no longer be Prince Paris of Troy. The truth of the matter was that he had never been Paris. Paris was an illusion he had created because it was expected of him. Alexandros never would have been accepted. Achilles accepted Alexandros and he longed to return to that. He did not want to be Paris any longer.

Alexandros had only managed to clear two steps when his legs began to buckle under him. He gripped the banister tightly, winding his right arm around it in a desperate attempt to keep himself from tumbling down the marble staircase. He was unable to balance himself, though, and his tight grip on the banister only weakened him further.

Hands gripped him under his armpits, hoisting him upright and back up the staircase. "You should still be abed, my son."

Alexandros tensed slightly when he learned that it was Priam who had helped him to safety. He had been told by Briseis that Priam had often stood watch over him while he slept, but he had not seen his father since waking.

"I would be there for Hector's funeral rites," Alexandros murmured, turning slowly to face the aging king. "I played a hand in his death and I would see him properly delivered unto the gods."

"You had nothing to do with Hector's death," Priam was quick to contradict him. "Achilles was the one to strike the final blow and even that he did in defense of you. There is no one that can be named for Hector's death."

Priam's absolution did nothing to relieve Alexandros of the guilt he felt over his brother's death. Had he remained at the camp as Achilles had requested of him it is was likely that neither man would have been hurt. They would have fought unto exhaustion and Achilles would have attempted to reason with Hector. At the very least Hector would have lived.

"I will be there for the funeral rites. I owe my brother that much," Alexandros said resolutely as he shuffled back to wide marble staircase. He looked over his shoulder at Priam a final time. "Do not try to stop me."

~*~*~

Achilles was methodical as he tightened the straps and buckles of the unfamiliar Greek armour. The minutes he was enduring without Alexandros were more painful than the brief time he had thought his beloved dead. Staying away from Alexandros the first three days had been challenge enough for him. It had been better for Alexandros, though. His young love would receive far better care from his father's physicians than from the ones in the camp.

"I hope you are not intending to storm the castle walls yourself."

Achilles' scowl darkened and he gave the strap a final tug. "I do not recall giving you permission to enter."

Odysseus released a booming chuckle. "I do not recall asking for it, but it would appear that it is a good thing that I chose to come."

"I do not trust Priam to look after Alexandros' well being," Achilles informed him, reaching down for his sword. "I want him back here with me so that we can leave this cursed land."

"Could I perhaps persuade you not to charge in like a man possessed and instead wait for the cavalry?" Odysseus implored with a confident grin.

"I want 'Xandros back now."

"Which is all well and good," Odysseus conceded, "but would it not be better to wait for a distraction? Say perhaps the entire Greek army?"

Achilles rolled his eyes in annoyance. "I gave Priam my word that there would be no attack on Troy until the end of Hector's funeral games."

"And we will honour that agreement," Odysseus was quick to assure him. "It will take that long to get everything in order. All that I ask is that you sit tight and not do anything drastic in the intervening time."

~*~*~

Alexandros stood up at the burning pyre that had been built for the singular purpose of sending his brother's soul to the gods Painstaking as it was, he had climbed every step to the top of the fifty foot pyre, not willing to have his torch brought up by another. He lingered after the flame had been lit, watching transfixed as the smoke curled around his brother's still form. Alexandros had to be forced away by his father when the flames began to lick at Hector's skin. Priam had guided him back down, supporting him when his steps began to falter. Alexandros had tried to pull away, doubtful that his father was strong enough to bear the burden, but Priam would hear none of it. He held tight to Alexandros’ arm and the two supported each other down the stairs.

"You should return indoors to rest," Briseis murmured as she appeared at his side.

Alexandros shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as the world spun around him. It angered him that his body seemed determined to show the weakness that he wanted to keep hidden. His limbs were trembling and there was a fine sheen of sweat that covered his exposed flesh and though the firelight gave his skin a warm glow, he was undoubtedly very pale.

"This is my doing and I will stay here until the last ember loses its heat," Alexandros growled vehemently, clenching all of his muscles in an attempt to still his trembling.

"You are not to blame for this, Paris. It was a--"

"I am not Paris," Alexandros hissed, fixing a dark glare on his cousin. "Paris died as an infant on the slopes of Mount Ida. My name is Alexandros."

"Paris, you are ill. You do not know what you are saying," Briseis insisted, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek.

Alexandros jerked away from her, nearly falling as his vision swam before him. "I know... I know exactly what I am saying. I do not know how to be Paris, only Alexandros. I cannot be who you want me to be. I cannot take Hector's place."

His breathing had become erratic by the end of his speech, making his vision even more unfocused. Alexandros wanted nothing more than to lie down and shut away the world. He had no intention of giving in to his body's demands for rest. Alexandros hoped to be able to escape from the city and find Achilles once again. Now that he had ensured his brother's proper funeral that was his only goal.

"Cousin, are you well?"

Alexandros heard her question, but could not answer. His vision was swimming and the wound in his side was suddenly throbbing. Though he could not confirm it, he suspected that his wound was bleeding again. Alexandros was grateful for the armour that he wore because it concealed the suspected bleeding. If anyone became aware of it, he would be ushered back indoors and would not be able to sneak from the city.

There was a sudden crack and the middle section of the pyre collapsed in on itself sending a shower of sparks into the heavens. The crowd was silenced by this, all of them watching in awe as Hector's soul rose up to join the gods.

With all eyes directed upwards, Alexandros began to subtly move towards the royal family's secret exit from the city. He was still a long way's off from the old building which housed the tunnel, but if he could place himself on the proper side of the crowd it would be easy for him to sneak into the darkened city.

Alexandros had been keeping half of his attention on where he had originally been standing so that he could tell right away when Briseis became aware of his absence. He was still a distance from the edge of the crowd when his cousin raised the alarm. Forcing his exhausted body into action, Alexandros moved more quickly through the crowd. He was kept upright by the sheer number of people gathered to witness Hector's funeral. Alexandros balanced himself against the shoulders of strong men briefly enough for the action to be considered little more than an accidental bump.

When there was no longer anyone to support him, Alexandros fell into a half crouch, struggling valiantly to keep his knees from touching the ground. He knew that he would be unable to get back up if he fell.

Alexandros' progress slowed significantly when he reached the narrow streets of the city. By that time he could feel blood pooling against the bottom of his breastplate and he was shaking almost non-stop. He would have used the wall for support, but it was difficult to find purchase when there was so much debris lined against the sides of the buildings. That meant fumbling his way through the alleyways and streets, heading always towards the east and the tunnel he knew to be there.

Try as he might, Alexandros was unable to quell the sob that rose up in his throat when he saw the two soldiers standing guard over entrance to the tunnel. He sunk to his knees, bowing his head forward as he sobbed into the cobblestones.

~*~*~

His armour removed and undoubtedly hidden temporarily by either Odysseus or Patroclus, Achilles stood on the hillside overlooking the walled city of Troy. He was standing near to the spot where he had first seen Alexandros after fearing that his beloved was dead. That night he could see nothing of Alexandros, only the blazing fire that signaled the end of Hector's funeral rites. For all that Achilles knew his beloved's body was lying beside that of his brother. Alexandros had been gravely injured when he had handed the younger man over to Priam and Achilles had no way of knowing if Alexandros had survived.

Achilles had spent the past eleven days praying to whatever gods he thought would listen, begging for Alexandros' life. He was willing to offer up whatever sacrifice they demanded so long as it meant his lover would survive his injuries.

"By nightfall tomorrow you will have your dear little shepherd back," Odysseus said as he came up behind Achilles. "It is just one more rotation of Apollo's chariot, hardly the end of the world."

"He could already be dead countless times over," Achilles murmured, voicing his fears aloud for the very first time. "He had been hurt a lot in only a few days and the last injury.... There is no guarantee that he survived."

Odysseus was standing next to him then, facing him with his arms crossed over his broad chest. "Are you quite finished?"

In the blink of an eye, Achilles had his sword out and pressed to Odysseus' throat. He swiped his foot across the older man's ankles, knocking his feet out from under him, and forcing him to the ground. Achilles knelt down with his knees holding Odysseus' arms pinned to the ground, the tip of his sword pressed to the dip at the base of his throat.

"That is more like it," Odysseus grinned, making no move to struggle against Achilles. "I had feared that we had lost that glorious anger of yours and that I would be forced to sack Troy on my own."

Achilles stared down at the King of Ithaca in confusion, his grasp on his sword loosening. Odysseus made no attempt to free himself even then, but continued to stare up at Achilles with that wide, insufferable grin. Frustrated, Achilles slid off Odysseus, sitting beside him with one leg curled under his body and his other drawn up towards his chest.

"Can you be certain that this plan of yours will work?"

Fixing his arms behind his head, Odysseus shifted about for several moments as though looking for a comfortable position. "It could work. On our part I can guarantee you that it will work. What I cannot guarantee is that the Trojans will hold up their end of the bargain. The horse must be taken into the city if we are to thoroughly defeat them."

"You realize that I have no intentions of battling the Trojans any more than strictly necessary?" Achilles murmured, turning his gaze down to his companion. "All that I care about is finding Alexandros. He is my only concern."

Odysseus quirked his lips slightly. "I had expected as much. I only ask that you do not hinder our men."

"Only those who attempt to harm 'Xandros will find themselves my enemies," the warrior assured him solemnly.

Odysseus heaved a great sigh and rolled to his feet in a single motion. "I know full well that I shall receive no better assurance from you. Until then I ask only that you keep yourself out of trouble."

"I will not antagonize Agamemnon."

"Thank you, my friend," Odysseus called over his shoulder as he descended the hill on his way back towards the camp.

~*~*~

Helen stared down at the beach, watching as the soldiers continued to construct Odysseus' wooden horse. It was madness. It would take only a single Trojan torch to set the thing aflame and kill a good portion of the Greek army. Nor did Helen want to see Troy razed to the ground. If the Greeks were to succeed, she could not help but feel guilt knowing that so many innocent women and children would be murdered. The soldiers could fend for themselves, but innocents such as Andromache and her infant son Astyanax would undoubtedly suffer greatly. Her temporary sister-in-law had been kind to her, welcoming her into the Trojan royal family without hesitation.

"There is a chill in the air, my darling. Come in and warm yourself."

Only a short time ago such a request from Agamemnon would have warmed her heart. She had believed that Agamemnon truly cared for her. She had dishonoured her husband for him only to discover that he desired the young Trojan prince. It disgusted her to know that both Agamemnon and Achilles lusted after the effete boy. Her beauty had been renowned all over the Aegean yet those two men had seemingly cast her aside without a glance.

Agamemnon's arms came around her and Helen could not suppress a shudder. "The stars are beautiful tonight," she whispered, playing up her reason for remaining outdoors in the cool night air while she was dressed only in a simple shift.

"In a few days you will once again be able to see the stars from the balcony of the king's chamber in the palace," Agamemnon said, touching his lips to her bare shoulder.

Helen squeezed her eyes shut tight, willing her body to relax as she leaned back against his chest. "I look forward to it, my love."

~*~*~

It had taken him more than an hour to evade his guards. The sentries had come in that morning with news of the Greek army fleeing and Alexandros was determined to venture out with his father and the other generals to determine whether it was true or not. He would see with his own eyes whether Achilles had truly abandoned him.

"I will have my horse," Alexandros demanded of the stable boy.

"My lord--"

"I do not care what orders you have been given," Alexandros interrupted him, rising as close to his full height as he could manage with the still-tender wound in his side. "I am Hector's successor which means that it is my responsibility to be there with my father."

Fear earned Alexandros his horse and with only a small amount of help he was mounted and riding towards the main gates of the city. He could not go very quickly, but the other group did not have much of a head start so he was able to catch up before they were halfway to the beach.

"You should not be here, Paris," Priam chided when Alexandros rode abreast of him. "You are still recovering."

"I need to be here," Alexandros contradicted, keeping up pace with the other riders and steadfastly ignoring the sharp pain originating from his injury. "I would know what has become of Achilles."

The group of horsemen reached the final rise before the beach. Before them, just on the edge of the surf was a massive wooden horse.

Of the Greeks there were no sign.