Will More Strongly

Will More Strongly


Chapter XIX


".... not like this one bit, Father."

Achilles felt his chest tighten when he heard Alexandros' voice. There was no mistaking that the voice belonged to his beloved. He would have recognized Alexandros' voice anywhere and knew for a fact that he was not simply deceiving himself into believing that the voice belonged to the younger man. He edged his way closer to the side of Odysseus' massive wooden horse, attempting to peer through the small place between two of the slats.

"Our scouts have said that the Greeks sailed away with the morning tide," Priam said confidently. "There is no reason for us not to believe that this horse is an offering of peace."

Achilles scanned the small area that he could see frantically, desperate for any sign of Alexandros. At first he could see none, but did not believe any less that it was indeed Alexandros' voice that he had heard. Achilles was nearly jostled out of place in the tight confines of the horse by a sudden movement, but he held his ground. He needed to see Alexandros. Needed to know that his beloved was alive and well.

Then he saw him.

Alexandros was walking slowly, hand held to his side, but was standing under his own power. Achilles could clearly see just how pale the younger man was. There were dark circles under his eyes and his features seemed pinched. Achilles was also certain that Alexandros had lost weight as well.

"This is not a good idea, Father," Alexandros implored the monarch. "There is nothing about this that feels right."

Slowly, Alexandros lifted his head, his gaze sweeping over the side of the wooden horse. As their gazes crossed the boy squinted, taking half a step forward as he continued to peer at Achilles' hiding place.

"If you even think of it, I will relieve you of your genitalia," Odysseus hissed in his ear as he pressed the tip of his knife to Achilles' thigh. "You heard Priam. The horse will be taken within the city walls and you will have your shepherd back tonight."

Achilles glared at his companion, barely resisting the urge to forcibly remove the knife from his hand. When he looked back to the beach, Alexandros was nowhere to be seen.

~*~*~

Alexandros stared up at the giant horse as it was wheeled through the gates of the city. The odd wheeled-statue was so large that it almost did not fit through the gates. Alexandros felt incredibly uneasy about the whole situation, but his father would not be dissuaded.

As he watched the horse be wheeled into the courtyard, Alexandros felt an odd sensation creeping up his spine. He scanned the side of the wooden structure, his eyes strangely drawn to the beast's throat. He stared at it for several long moments, unsure of just what he was looking at or why it attracted his attention so.

"Come, Paris, you need to rest," Priam murmured, placing a hand on the small of Alexandros' back. "You are not well."

Pursing his lips, Alexandros met his father's gaze and shook his head. "I am well, Father. You need not concern yourself with me."

"You are my son, Paris. It is my job to be concerned with your well-being," Priam protested as he brought the younger man to a complete stop. "Regardless of where you were raised, you are a son of Troy. My son."

"I cannot be who you want me to be," Alexandros whispered, ducking his head down as he was unable to meet the king's eyes at that time. "I am a shepherd, Father. It is all that I know how to be. I cannot rule a kingdom. I cannot take yours and Hector's places."

Priam framed Alexandros' face in his palms, forcing his son to meet his eyes. "You would never be expected to take the place of either Hector or myself. You are your own man, Paris."

"Then call me by my given name," Alexandros implored. "The one who raised me gave me the name Alexandros. It is my name even now. I have played the part of Paris, but I do not know how to be a prince."

To his utter surprise, his father smiled broadly and leaned forward to press his lips to Alexandros' forehead. "You are more noble than you give yourself credit for. I can think of no better man to rule this kingdom after I am gone."

Alexandros startled at the comment, but did his best not to show it. He would not give his father cause for further grief so soon after Hector's death.

~*~*~

Achilles' muscles ached from remaining still for so long. The sun had set several hours ago and still Odysseus was holding off the attack. The older man wanted to wait a bit longer, until he was certain the Trojans would be vulnerable. Achilles would have slipped out on his own long ago. He would have been reunited with Alexandros on the beach were the decision his to make.

"I assume that you want to be the first one out."

Achilles merely glared into the near darkness at his longtime friend. His glare only increased when Odysseus waved out an arm, his fingers pointing in the direction of the hatchway at the base of the horse's neck.

"Go and find your shepherd, my friend," Odysseus murmured, his smile genuine but with a sad edge to it. "Be safe."

~*~*~

On the bow of Agamemnon’s ship, Helen stared out at the black nighttime sea. Her fate was not sealed. She was to be the mistress of the mighty Greek king. The mistress of a man who lusted after the only surviving Prince of Troy. There were worse lots in life, she was sure, but at the moment she could think of nothing more repulsive than lying with Agamemnon. Helen could not abide that life any longer. She had begun the war in order to win top place in Agamemnon’s affections, not to be displaced by her effete husband.

The only comfort she took was in the knowledge that her womb had quickened with the High King's child. A child that she would see sit on the throne following Menelaus' death. She would displace the man's other child in the line of succession. She was willing to kill them if need be so long as it meant her child would rule Greece.

~*~*~

Alexandros was unable to sleep. He had been tossing and turning a long time, unable to get comfortable. The wound in his side ached and the one on his leg itched as it continued to heal. Consigning himself to the fact that he would not be able to find any rest that night, Alexandros had moved out onto the balcony in hopes that he would receive some sign that Achilles had not abandoned him.

What he had not expected was the smoke rising from near the gates. It was then that he heard the screams.

At first he wanted to believe that he had imagined the sound. It was far easier to blame it on his sleep deprived mind than to actually believe there was truth to what he was witnessing. He could not deny it, though. Not as flames began to creep up the sides of the buildings nearer the gates.

Alexandros rushed back into his bedchamber, making a path straight for his armour. It was, no doubt, the Greeks who were attacking the city and Alexandros had no intention of passing up what could be his final chance of being reunited with Achilles.

"My lord Paris, the city is under attack!" one of the squires yelled as he burst into Alexandros' room. "The Greeks have breached the city walls!"

"Then do your duty and help me into my armour," Alexandros growled, frustrated that he could not do the task himself. He had already attempted to buckle the straps on his own, but the action pulled on the stitchings of his wound too greatly. He did not yet even want to consider the strain that using his bow would create.

"My lord, your father bid me escort you to the council room to await his orders," the boy said as he hurriedly buckled the leather straps on either side of the bronze breastplate.

In the process of fastening his wrist guards, Alexandros shook his head. "I am needed elsewhere."

"My lord!" the youth squeaked, clearly very alarmed by this.

"Do not worry, he will understand," Alexandros assured him, tightening his sword belt about his waist. He then grabbed up his quiver and bow, fleeing the room and leaving the frightened young squire behind.

~*~*~

Reaching the palace was proving to be quite difficult. At every turn there seemed to be someone blocking his path to Alexandros. Achilles could not even be certain that Alexandros would even be in the palace. As much as he could hope that his beloved would remain in the relative safety of the building, his mind informed him that it was a foolish desire. No matter what he would have wanted, Alexandros would not remain hidden away while the city was attacked. Injured or no, Alexandros would defend his people. All that Achilles could hope for was that the gods would lead him to his beloved.

~*~*~

Alexandros had taken up post on the raised colonnade that surrounded the palace, firing with deadly accuracy on any Greek who ventured too close to the building. He had the presence of mind to know that if Achilles were among the Greek soldiers who had invaded the city that he would head towards the palace. If he was to be reunited with his lover it would be better for him to stay where he could see his approach.

All he could see at the moment, though, was chaos. As more Greeks rushed into the courtyard it was becoming more difficult for Alexandros to discern friend from foe. So Alexandros left the balcony, rushing down the wide flight of stairs towards the main floor of the palace. Already the Greeks had infiltrated the building so Alexandros slung his bow over his shoulder and unsheathed his sword.

He had nearly cleared the bottom of the steps when there was a woman's scream behind him. Alexandros suddenly found himself fearing for Andromache and Astyanax as well as his cousin, Briseis. Abandoning the palace's defense to the guards, he swallowed the pain in his gut and sprinted back up the stairs two at a time. He needed to get Andromache and her infant son to safety. He owed Hector that much. Alexandros would keep his brother's family safe at all costs, even his own life.

Alexandros stumbled at the top, his toe catching on the lip of the step and he went crashing to the ground. He slid across the marble tiles, his sword clattering from his grasp. Alexandros attempted to scramble to his feet only to end up on his knees once again. Taking it slower, Alexandros climbed to his feet and held a hand to his side as he carefully leaned over to retrieve his sword. Once he was upright again, Alexandros took several deep breaths before hurrying towards his sister-in-law's rooms. His side ached and he felt a bit lightheaded, but Alexandros was determined to be useful.

"The little princeling," a Greek soldier drawled as he appeared in Alexandros' path.

"Out of my way," Alexandros growled, clutching his sword tightly in his fists.

The man chuckled, advancing still closer. There was a second burst of laughter from behind him and Alexandros whirled around so that the soldiers were at his sides rather than in front and behind him.

"I will only say this one more time. Get. Out. Of. My. Way," the dark-haired youth ground out, breathing slowly in and out as he focused his mind on everything Achilles had ever taught him.

The soldier on his left lunged first, his sword leveled with Alexandros' middle. Blocking it quickly, Alexandros swung his sword about only just in time to prevent the other soldier from slicing through his throat. When he moved to do the same on his left, his right side was left momentarily vulnerable. Alexandros caught sight of a movement out of the corner of his eye and took a step backwards. Unprepared for the move, the Greek soldier continued his stabbing motion and impaled his companion on the end of his sword. Alexandros moved quickly, stabbing the remaining soldier in the vulnerable piece of flesh between his neck and shoulder.

All too aware of the blood trickling down his side from his reopened wound, Alexandros staggered down the corridor towards Andromache's rooms.

~*~*~

Achilles jumped down from the stone wall and into the garden it surrounded. He stuck close to the battle, wanting to remain hidden from the combating soldiers already in the garden. His sword was clutched tightly in his fist, ready for use in case one of the Trojans ventured too close. Achilles had no intention of attacking any of the Trojan soldiers provided they left him alone. His only concern was ensuring that he got Alexandros safely from the city.

He paused at the sound of a woman's shrill scream, panicked and quick. He scanned the interior of the garden quickly, his eyes landing on a young priestess who was pinned to the ground by a rutting soldier. She was struggling fiercely, struggling beneath him and clawing at him. With one final glance towards the palace, Achilles stalked across the garden, picking up speed as he went. Achilles went barreling into the girl's attacker, sending them both tumbling to the ground. He managed to roll them just enough so that Achilles ended up on top, pinning the man to the ground.

"Get out of here!" he shouted over his shoulder to the girl and then put her from his mind completely.

~*~*~

As he raced through the corridors as fast as he was able, Alexandros stumbled to a halt near the entrance to the south garden. He was about to continue on to Andromache's rooms when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Pausing to give it closer inspection, his eyes widened.

"Achilles," he breathed, turning his body completely towards the arched doorway. Alexandros rushed through it, pausing at the rail that edged the dual staircase leading to the main part of the garden. His lover was on the ground, battling with another soldier, his back unknowingly turned towards one of the palace guards who was sneaking up on him.

Reacting without thinking, Alexandros pulled out his bow and fished an arrow from his quiver. He breathed deeply, aiming it at Trojan who was now only feet away from Achilles.

So focused on what he was doing, Alexandros failed to see the Greek soldier who was sprinting in his direction. He felt the impact, however. Alexandros was hit from the left, knocking him off balance. As he stumbled sideways, he released his grip on the arrow and it flew wild. Alexandros slammed down hard on the marble tiles that made up the small balcony at the top of the stairs, his bow clattering from his grip and sliding down the stairs to the walkway below.

The momentum launched the Greek away from his body and Alexandros was able to stumble onto his hands and knees, unsheathing a knife from his waist as he crawled forward towards the fallen soldier. Before the other man could orient himself, Alexandros stabbed his knife into his opponent's stomach.

Alexandros did not completely regain his footing until he was at the bottom of the stairs. He collected his bow off the ground, intending to shoot any threat that remained to Achilles.

"Paris!" Briseis screamed, forcing Alexandros' attention onto her before he could sight Achilles again. "Paris!"

Alexandros still had hold of his knife so he pressed it into his cousin's hand when he had stumbled to where she was pressed against the side of the staircase. "Take this and go to Andromache's rooms. If she is there, help her to get Astyanax out of the city and if not see yourself out through the passage just outside the palace."

"Come with me," Briseis pleaded, clutching tightly at his arm.

Alexandros shook his head, his attention already moving towards the remainder of the garden in search of Achilles. "I cannot. Now go."

Out of the corner of his eye he finally located Achilles once again.

"Paris--"

"Go!" Alexandros shouted, wrenching his arm from her grip.

Leaving his cousin behind, Alexandros rushed towards the center of the garden where Achilles was struggling against two assailants. He was faltering and Alexandros felt his gut clench knowing that he was the reason that his beloved was being overpowered.

The arrow that had fired from his bow when the Greek had crashed into him was imbedded through Achilles' heel.