Spirits Forged in Fire

"Paris, please my love, open your eyes. Paris..." From the depths of the darkness that held him, Paris heard his wife's whispery voice reaching out to him from a distance. He focused what little energy he had left on the sound of her voice, and it slowly grew louder.

"Please, please be all right, Paris" Helen sat on the ground, cradling her lover's head in her lap. She held on of his hands tightly, while her other hand gracefully traced delicate paths across his dirtied cheekbones. She bent her head, and placed a chaste kiss on his dry lips, while Andromache knelt beside her. She felt his hand squeeze hers, and immediately sat up. Andromache, sensing that he was regaining consciousness, helped Helen pull the Trojan prince into a sitting position. Helen reached out to a young man beside her, and took his water pouch, offering some to the awakening prince.

"Shhh Paris, its all right now. What has happened?" Andromache asked, her voice calm and soothing. Paris immediately began struggling to his feet.

"We must leave here now, go back towards the city," he said, raising his voice so the other Trojans could hear.

"But they have a way into the city, we arent safe there" Helen said, taking Paris' hand.

"Listen to me, everyone. Go back towards the city. Menelaus is sending troops into the tunnel to meet us head on." He turned to look at his wife, who was not white with fear.

"Paris, if he catches me, my life is over. Death would be better!" She began to shake, realizing that the Greeks had them blocked in. "What will we do in the city? They can get in!" Paris took her arm, and drew her close against him.

"I will take the finest soldiers we have, and we will hold the gate. The city of Troy will not fall again. This time, Menelaus will not have the benefit of surprise on his hands; the Greeks will have to meet the Trojans head on, and this time we will be ready. Andromache, where is my father?" Andromache smiled grimly at the prince. "He held the same belief as you, that the Greeks can be held off from the city walls, so he remained behind with many of the palace guard. They are standing watch at the gap."

"Good, now let us return to Troy. Please see to it that the other women and children are housed within the palace. I will take the soldiers and begin setting posts at every possible weak point. Take care of her, Andromache." He said, placing a kiss on his wife's tearstained cheek.

"May the Gods be with you brother" Andromache whispered, pulling the frightened Helen close, before turning and addressing her people.


"My Lord, we are all here save one. Was anyone sent to notify Odysseus?" One older general spoke up, noticing that Menelaus was staring down at a map, rather than at the occupants of the tent.

"Thank you Graeme, but I had planned on that. Now hear me: at dawn, we move. The army will be split, half will enter the tunnels, following Odysseus and the Ithican Army. Graeme, you will take charge of this group.The other half will follow me. You are all dismissed to ready your men. Graeme, a word please." All the men left, and Graeme approached the King.

"Yes my Lord?"

"You will follow Odysseus, but at a distance. I want you far enough behind that he doesnt know you are there. I have reason to doubt his loyalty, so here are your orders. If he engages the Trojans, very well. If not, if he hesitates in the slightest, your orders are to trap him inside with the Trojans. Block them in, burn them in, whatever you choose I dont care. If he turns, I dont want him coming out of this alive, do you understand me?" Menelaus said this all quietly, with a deadly calm on his face. Graeme only nodded, then turned on his heel and walked out.


She felt the darkness overcoming her again, blurring the pain as well as her vision. She knew the baby was arriving, but she had no strength left to remain awake. She struggled to breath, feeling the sweat pouring down her eyes, her arms and legs burning. Just as she felt herself slipping away, a hand on her forehead jerked her back towards consciousness. Expecting the rough touch of Kale, she was sure that she had died when she felt the soft caress of Achilles war-roughened fingers on her sweaty cheeks. Her eyes snapped open, to meet his.

She said nothing, felt the tears of relief welling up in her eyes, as she felt another contraction coming. Achilles set his sword down, and came onto his knees beside his wife, taking her hand in his, unable to speak. With her eyes still locked on his, she took a deep breath and forced every inch of her being to concentrate on bringing her child, their child, into the world. She gasped and fell back when she heard the throaty wails of the baby, aware that Achilles had now moved to pick up their child. He moved to pick up a blanket from the corner, and wrapped the little boy up, turning his back on Briseis for just a moment. When he turned back to her, intent on placing her baby into her arms for the first time, all that he could focus on was the cold steel of Kale's knife up against the throat of his wife. Kale began to laugh, and Achilles only comfort at that moment was that Briseis had slipped back into unconsciousness and was not aware of how deadly their situation was.

"Achilles, it appears to me that you have become domesticated." Kale grinned. "There were many who claimed it would never be possible, but it seems that you happened to find the right woman. So sad that you made it this far, only to lose her once again.

"Kale, you do not want to do this" Achilles whispered, his voice completely even under the circumstances.

"Oh, I dont? How about this, I will give you the option. Your wife, or your child? I will trade one for the other. Seems fair for me to offer to let one of them live, after all, you left your sword over here." Achilles remained completely still, aware of both the knife that he carried tucked into his sandal as well as the baby in his arms. Kale began to laugh, but the laugh caught in his throat as the sword sliced across his arm. Briseis had gotten a hold of Achilles sword, and with what little strength she had, hefted it towards the taller warrior. Achilles quickly set the baby down, and leapt at the taller man, tackling him. Briseis grabbed the baby, and cradled him to her as the two men wrestled, fear giving her the energy that she needed.

Achilles, within moments, had gotten the upper hand, and disarmed his opponent. With one look at Briseis, he dragged Kale outside of the tent. Briseis, realizing that Achilles needed to purge his fear and his fury through the death of another, merely buried her head into the child's blanket, and hugged him close while she turned her head away from her husband's violence.