Will More Strongly

Will More Strongly

Chapter III


On the return trip from Sparta, Paris kept mostly to the stern of the ship. His eyes were straining ever forward, though, at his brother who commanded from the bow. Paris was desperate to confide in his older brother, but was nervous of the reaction he would receive. They had been two days at sea when Paris realized the folly of his decision to take Helen from her husband. There were surely countless other ways he could have kept Achilles safe from Menelaus' assassins. He was a prince of Troy. He possessed a great deal of power and could have used that power to, at the very least, send word to Achilles to warn him of Menelaus' plans. At best he could have gone himself, delivering the message in person to assure that Achilles knew the seriousness of it.

"You seem troubled, brother," Hector said as he approached Paris, his brows furrowed slightly. "I would have thought you'd be pleased to be returning home."

"Much as I wish it were so, Troy is not yet my home. That will take some time yet," Paris sighed, offering his brother a tight smile.

Spinning himself around, Hector leaned back against the rail, matching his gaze to Paris'. "It is your home, though. At the very least it is a step up from where you lived before."

"That is your opinion, brother," Paris murmured as he stabbed his fingers into his hair, pulling it taut. "You have your love waiting for you in Troy. As well as your son. Meanwhile I have not seen mine for near yea year now. At this point I cannot even be certain where he is."

"He?" Hector echoed only a slight hint of surprise evident in his voice. "Another shepherd perhaps?"

The smile on Paris' face was immediate and he was barely able to contain his laughter. "Hardly. A warrior. The greatest the world has ever seen if there is any truth to the tales."

It was Hector who laughed outright, shaking his head in mirth. "'The greatest warrior the world has ever seen.' I know of only one man who touts such a title. Achilles, son of--"

"--Peleus," Paris finished for him. "Yes, I know."

In an instant, Hector whirled around and had Paris by the shoulders, shaking him slightly. "Achilles, son of Peleus? That is your lover's name? Are you certain?"

"Of course I am," Paris insisted, jerking away from his brother. "The man has been my lover since I was eighteen. I could name you every scar on his body if it would ease your mind. And by now he likely believes that I am dead since Alexandros the shepherd no longer exists."

"And you are better off for it,” Hector sighed, placing both of his hands on the rail and bowing his head forward. “Achilles is a brute. He has no conscience and thirsts only for blood. Your life is safer now that you are away from him.”

Paris was unable to keep his shock from showing on his face, the expression warring with disgust. “You say such things about a man you have never even met? While I have never seen Achilles in battle, I do know him, brother. And the man that I know I would trust with my life as well as my heart.”

“He is dangerous, Paris,” Hector insisted as he lifted his head up to stare out at the sea.

The biting remark his mind spoke of was kept silent and Paris instead let out a weary sigh, staring at his brother’s profile. “So the tales say of you as well. You are a feared and respected warrior just as Achilles is. Having met both of you I can say with certainty that while those tales may speak of your character while in battle, away from the fight you are both good.”
.”

For several long minutes, Hector remained silent, his gaze focused on the wake created by their ship. Finally he turned back around, leaning his hip against the rail as he faced the younger man. "I do not like this, Paris, but at the moment there is nothing that can be done. Achilles will eventually discover who you are."

"Even if he does not, I will go to him," Paris insisted, meeting his brother's gaze head on. "I will not allow Achilles to believe that I am gone from this earth longer than necessary. Nor will I allow him to be harmed... which is why I have done something which I fear may have dire consequences."

"What have you done, Paris?"

Paris tensed at the harsh tone in his brother's voice. There was no mistaking the anger in it and the young prince shuddered to see it directed at him. Still, he steeled himself against Hector's anger, fully believing in what he was doing, if not the method. "I did what I thought was necessary at the time. To keep the one that I love alive."

Hector gripped his shoulder tight enough to bruise. "Paris, what did you do?"

Pursing his lips, Paris yanked himself once again out of Hector's grip. "The only thing I can think of to do is show you, for you will not believe the words alone."

"Paris...." Hector groaned as he nonetheless followed after his brother.

Ignoring the disapproval in the older man's voice, Paris stalked towards the hatch that led below deck. Where below in his cabin waited the woman who was fast becoming the bane of his existence. A woman who clung to him when he was in her presence and was far too keen to see him without his tunic than he was comfortable with.

Just as both his feet connected with the floor below, the ship heaved on a sudden wave and Paris stumbled backwards. Having spent the firwentwenty-one years of his life firmly entrenched on land, Paris was awkward with the rolling and pitching of the ship and was easily upended. Straightening himself, he shoved his bangs out of his eyes and continued towards his cabin.

"I will give you proper sailing lessons when we return home," Hector offered, "and get you used to the movement of the waves. The sea should be a second home to you."

Paris grinned at Hector over his shoulder and shook his head slightly as he turned to face forward once again. "While I will not turn down the sailing lessons, I doubt that I will ever feel fully comfortable as a speck in the center of a vast expanse of water. I fare much better on dry land."

Hector chuckled briefly, but said nothing. The pair continued their trek through the bowels of the ship silently, Paris working up the courage to tell his brother what he had done. He knew that it would be better for Hector to hear what he had done before seeing the evidence of it, but Paris could find no words. The situation was beyond any that he had ever been a part of. Hector would be furious, that much he knew. Paris had single-handedly destroyed the peace that his father had fought many long years for. The men of both Troy and Sparta had bled for that peace.

"I fear that I have done something quite ill," Paris admitted as he placed his hand on the door, preparing to open it. "Something that cannot be taken back."

Heaving out a great sigh, Paris pushed the door open. And immediately squeezed his eyes shut as the opening of the door revealed Helen stretched out naked on the narrow bunk in his cabin. Paris immediately slammed the door shut, spinning around and bowing his head to hide his flushed cheeks.

"I am sorry, Hector. I did not know that she would be in such a state," Paris mumbled, stabbing his fingers into his hair and stumbling away. He then stumbled backwards as the door was yanked open behind him. Unable to catch himself in time, Paris toppled to the ground, ny fay falling atop Helen who was quickly backing away.

"If you will excuse us, my lady," Hector said curtly as he helped Paris to his feet and pulled him out of the room. "I need to have a word with my brother."

The instant the door was shut again, Paris found himself slammed up against the wall. He winced as his head bounced against the wood, but he did not fight back. He had no right to. What he had done was a prime example of foolishness and while he felt terrible for doing it, there was no way that he could take it back.

"Why is Menelaus' wife parading about naked in your cabin?" Hector growled, leaning in close so that his breath puffed against Paris' face. "Why is she even on this ship?"

Paris raised his eyes to meet his brother's and trembled at the rage he saw there. "Menelaus was going to use me as bait to kill Achilles. He was going to send men out in search of me-- in search of Achilles' lover --and had every intention of taking me captive in order to draw Achilles to Sparta where they would separate him from his men and kill him."

"And you thought this was the wisest course of action?" Hector hissed as he began to stalk about the narrow corridor. "You are bringing war down upon our heads, Paris. Menelaus will go to his brother and Agamemnon will lead all of Greece to our doorstep in search of Helen. Is she truly worth all that?"

"Achilles is," Paris said honestly, meaning it with every breath in his body.

"Then you are a fool," Hector snapped, pausing to glare at him momentarily before continuing with his pacing.

"I did the only thing I could think of," Paris defended himself. "I needed to divert Menelaus and that was the only way I could think of to do it. I am not a warrior and could not have out maneuvered him. Nor do I have even the slightest knowledge of power politics. I am a simple shepherd, brother. Place upon me whatever titles you wish, but that is what I am. Nothing more."

"Your actions, however, are not that of a shepherd," Hector moaned, stabbing his fingers into his hair. "That is where your folly lies."

With a final scowl directed at him, Hector turned and raced towards the steps that led above deck. Paris was prepared to hide himself away in the bowels of the ship, free from his brother's wrath and Helen's seductions. He prayed that they were too far away for Hector to consider returning Helen to Sparta. It would do no good and Menelaus would only kill Helen. For all that he could not stand being long in her presence, Paris had no wish to bear her death upon his conscience.

There was again a sudden shift in the ship's course and Paris was nearly knocked from his feet, his skull impacting with the wall opposite him and muddling his thoughts. Paris dropped to his knees, his hands pressed to the wooden wall to keep himself from toppling over. When he had managed to shake his head clear, Paris staggered to his feet, wavering still as he sought to reclaim his equilibrium.

As his mind cleared somewhat, Paris realized why the ship had tilted as much as it had. Hector had ordered the ship to turn back to Sparta. Paris rushed towards the steps, a hand clutched to his head in a vain attempt to lessen the throbbing, desperate to stop Hector. Paris was nearly upended a second time as the ship continued to turn away from Troy.

"Hector!" Paris shouted as he emerged topside.

His older brother spun about to face him, glaring at him. "Go back below, Paris. You will only get in the way here."

"Hector, please. Do not turn the ship back to Sparta," Parleadleaded as he made his way over to where his brother stood. "No good could come from us returning to Sparta. Menelaus will kill not only Helen. I will be a subject to his wrath and he will kill me. Or do worse should he discover who I was only months before. I will not be used to hurt Achilles. I would die first."

"I will not allow any harm to come to you, brother," Hector promised him, stalking over to meet him halfway. "We will deliver Helen to her husband then depart before he has a chance to retaliate."

"You know as well as I do that it will not be that simple," Paris sighed, offering up a tight smile. "Menelaus will be out for blood. Mine in particular."

"Turn the ship back about!" Hector shouted to sailors manning the ship. He kept his back to Paris for several long moments and when he turned back his face was haggard, making him look many years beyond his age. "You do realize that Menelaus will come after you regardless. He will not take kindly to having his wife stolen from him."

"Then will we not be safer in Troy? The way you and Father tell it our walls are impenetrable," Paris reminded his brother.

"That does not give you leave to bring a war down upon our heads," Hector growled, leaning in close so that they stood practically nose to nose. "Destroy all that our father has worked for."

"That is not what I intended," Paris murmured, keeping his voice quiet in the face of his brother's wrath. "Had I thought things through more at the time I would have taken a different course of action. I would have fled the city and ridden straight to Achilles if nothing else. Only Helen presented an opportunity that I could not pass up."

"And what will your lover think when he finds out you seduced and abducted Menelaus' wife?" Hector questioned, arching an eyebrow.

Paris let out a deep, shuddering sigh, taking a few steps back so that he was able to walk a clear path to the side of the ship. Hector had hit on the crux of his dilemma. Paris feared above all else how Achilles would react when he discovered not only that he had been transformed into Prince Paris of Troy but that he had also bedded a foreign king's wife. From the moment he had allowed Helen to coax him into her bed, Paris had felt nothing but disgust for himself. He could attempt to convince himself that his intentions were pure, but his actions were far from it.

"Achilles will be furious," Paris sighed once Hector reached his side. "He will see it as a betrayal and will likely never forgive me. But at least he will be alive to do so."

"If Achilles knows you at all he will no that malice in no way influenced your actions," Hector tried to assure him. "You are far too good to ever mean anyone ill will. It is not in you, brother."

"That does not mean Achilles will not be enraged by what I have done," Paris mumbled, more to himself than to Hector. "And he will have every right to be so. I have gone against everything I believe in, Hector. Before I was made aware of my true lineage I never would have even conceived of the things I done since finding out Achilles' life was in danger. To let myself be seduced by another man's wife, to lie with her.... It is abhorrent. I am abhorrent."

Hector turned his body to face Paris, arms crossed over his chest, tilting his hip so that it was pressed to the rail of the ship. "You are a boy who is trying very hard to fit into a life that he does not yet understand. There is nothing about you that is abhorrent."

Paris opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced by a firm shake of the head from his brother.

"Now while I cannot forcibly banish these thoughts from your mind, I ask that you disregard them as best as you are able. All that we can do now is return home and hope that Father and his counselors can find the best course of action," Hector surmised, nodding his head as he spoke.

"And what of Helen?" Paris asked, his eyes moving pasttor tor towards the stairs that led below deck. "What is to become of her? For all that we are using each other to meet our own ends, I do not wish to see her harmed."

"Then she will be your wife," Hector said simply. "In that way she will be protected and welcomed into our home."

"My wife?" Paris gasped, his eyes widening in alarm. "There must be some other...."

He did not even realize that he had begun to tremble until Hector's hands came up to frame his face. Paris stared up at his brother in absolute horror for a long minute before spinning about to vomit over the side of the ship. It left a vile taste in his mouth that caused his stomach to unload itself a second time. Even after there was nothing left in his stomach to be expelled it continued to rebel, his torso heaving.

"I cannot do that. Please do not make me do that," Paris sobbed as he sunk to his knees, his fingers clutching at the rail. "I beg of you, Hector. Please...."

By that time the sobs were so great that Paris could barely manage to draw breath into his lungs. It was in those moments that he realized just how little he had thought his actions through. When he allowed Helen to seduce him he had only thought of it as a means to distract Menelaus from his plans to kill Achilles. It would be a diversion so that he could find Achilles himself and warn him of the Spartan king's plans.

"Be strong, Paris," Hector murmured as he crouched down next to him. "If you are doing this for the reasons you gave to me, your love for Achilles must be a powerful thing indeed. Strong enough so that you can endure the things that you must to save his life."

Paris nodded his head weakly, squeezing his eyes shut tight to prevent any of the tears he could feel pricking at the corners of his eyes from falling. Sucking in air loudly through his mouth, Paris leaned back and slowly uncurled himself, using the railing to pull himself back to his feet.

"Do what I must to save his life," Paris repeated as he opened his eyes to stare out at the ocean.

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