Sacrifice

Chapter IV: “The beginning of the journey”

It was almost morning and things seemed to have calmed down inside the palace. The soldiers had been ordered to take all the treasures they could find to the ships, as well as the women who could be used as slaves, while Agamemnon had at last fulfilled his desire of having supper in the splendid gardens of Troy. In celebration of the victory he had thrown a great feast, where the kings of Greece and all the other high-ranked officers of his army were present, eating, drinking and enjoying the company of beautiful Trojan women –priestesses, servants or dancers who had the misfortune to be left behind.

Achilles found Odysseus standing on a terrace, staring, absorbed in his thoughts, down at the burnt city of Troy, enveloped in the thick smoke that rose towards the sky. Achilles suspected that Agamemnon had thrown a banquet more in his honor than in the honor of the men who won him the war, for which reason he was not surprised to see Odysseus in that rather isolated corner of the palace.

Just like Achilles, Odysseus could not really stand the company of those men, especially that of the so-called King of Kings. He had eaten and drunk enough to regainces ces ces and as for women, he needed none. He had his wife, whom he dearly loved, back home and hoped to be with her soon. Hearing the sound of footsteps on the stone floor behind him made him turn and see Achilles approaching.

“Have you found her?” he asked both curious and concerned. Being one of the few men whom Achilles respected and trusted, he was aware of the true reason for which the leader of the Myrmidons joined him inside the wooden horse, after his men had set sail for Greece.

“No, but I know where she is and I will go after her. However I have some questions to which you probably know the answer.”

“Just tell me. I will help you in every way that I can.”

“Why is Menelaus going to Syria?”

“Ah ...... ,” Odysseus smiled, remembering what was all that about. “That would be the result of Agamemnon’s boundless craving for power. It seems that gaining control over the Aegean was not enough for him and he plans on bringing the eastern kingdoms under his rule.”

“What a greedy fool,” Achilles spat out with rage. “Does he intend to endlessly march the troops on unknown territories, just to fulfil his absurd desires?”

“Actually the Queen of Syria was the one who came and asked for an alliance with Greece, in exchange military support. That is why the Syrians came.”

“So when is Agamemnon leaving for Syria?”

“Tomorrow morning most likely. Since the war against Troy was won rather quickly he believes the men are in shape for more battles.”

“What does he know about battles? He’s probably stuffing himself with food and wine as we speak.”

“As a matter of fact he is,” Odysseus replied with a wide smile, as Achilles remembered with disgust the manners of the abusive King.

After they shared a few laughs on account of the previous matter, Odysseus finally noticed a soldier standing not too far from them and apparently, listening carefully to their conversation.

“What do you want soldier?” he asked the boy.

“This is Paris,” Achilles informed him.

“The Prince of Troy?”

Paris continued to stare at them in silence while Achilles explained to Odysseus how he ended up making alliances with the last member of the Trojan royal family. The prince now wore a simple Greek uniform of a low-ranked soldier and a large helmet. He had taken the clothes from a recently killed warrior, together with a sword and a large, heavy shield. Besides that, the prince refused to abandon his bow and arrows, feeling he was more skilled with that weapon.

That night not even the idea of lying down somewhere crossed Achilles’ mind. Many other thought bothered him and kept him awake. At first he regretted having sent his men home, because if they had been with him, he would have already been on his way to finding Briseis. Nonetheless, he reached the conclusion that it was better this way, as some of the Myrmidons would have most likely find their death rather than glory, by following him in his quest.

Achilles slowly made his way from one end of the ship to the other, paying no attention to the soldiers who were sleeping, talking or mending their weapons. One particular soldier who was sharpening his blade drew his attention and Achilles chuckled seeing him do so. Normally he would not pay too much attention to the soldiers’ occupations, but this one was none other than the Prince of Troy.

“Do you plan on killing me with that?” Achilles asked amused.

“And why shouldn’t I?” Paris’ reply came fast, accompanied by an angry and menacing look. “You killed my brother.”

“Any other would have done the same in my place ...... You are free to go any time you please. I only needed you to find the entrance to the tunnel,” Achilles added on a more serious tone after a moment of silence.

“I have a strong reason for being here. This is the fastest way I can reach Helen. But what is your reason?”

Pariitedited a little for a response but continued when he saw that Achilles was not even looking in his direction.

“I’ve noticed the way in which you talked about Briseis.”

“Excuse me?” Achilles pretended he did not know what the Prince was talking about, hoping that Briseis had kept their affair a secret.

“If you ever harm her I swear I will find the strength to kill you. My cause is just and the gods will support me.”

“You shouldn’t have too much faith in the gods. Your father’s cause was also just.”

Without saying another word Achilles turned and walked away, leaving the young Prince to contemplate upon his words.

While this was going on, the small group of Trojans who had escaped through the tunnel continued their journey, walking as fast as they could without looking back. Only Andromache would stop from time to time and look back, hoping to see Paris, Helen and Briseis trying to catch up with them, but she never did. Each time she stopped she was urged by her handmaidens to continue walking. They encouraged her by saying that the Prince and the two Princesses were probably on their way, but Andromache could not help herself from imagining the worst. When Arokh’s ship sailed by up the river they all hid behind the few trees, bushes and rocks that adorned their path, but the thought that Helen and Briseis could be on that ship never crossed Andromache’s mind.

After a day’s walk, the tired, hungry and thirsty Trojans finally reached a small village at the foot of Mount Ida. The villagers hurried to offer their support to the Trojans, whom they greatly respected, especially due to the numerous times King Priam had helped them in the past.

Aeneas, who had begun to take seriously the role of leader, proposed they should remain there for a couple of days until they decide toward what city to head. His decision was agreed upon by all the Trojans.

Helen and Briseis had been locked for almost a day in a small cabin beneath the deck, aboard Arokh’s ship. They hadn’t been given any food or water, but taking in account their condition, they were too frightened and worried to feel hunger or thirst. They were both sitting down in a corner of the small cabin, with their backs against the wooden wall.

“Where do you think they are taking us?” Helen spoke first to brake the unbearable silence that did nothing but enhanced their fear.

“I don’t know, but what difference does it make now? Our home is destroyed.” Briseis hurried to respond and realized only later that she may have been a little selfish towards Helen, who could still have had a happy life alongside Paris. She was simply tormented by the thought of never seeing Achilles again.

“But Paris ...... ,“Helen quickly continued, not catching the hidden meanings behind Briseis’ words.

“I have a feeling he is in no danger and perhaps he will be able to find us.”

“Paris is an excellent lover but not a very good fighter. Even if he did find us he would stand no chance against Menelaus and by then ...... we will probably be dead,” she continued after a brief pause in which the gasps of fear and the tears that flooded her eyes prevented her from speaking.

“They will not kill us. I am certain of this,” Briseis comforted her, putting one arm around her back.

“Who is this Arokh anyway?” Helen asked with a doleful voice.

“All I know is that he is the leader of a small group of Syrian warriors who fought for the Greeks.”

The two women had no time to exchange any more words as the creaking sound of the wooden door being opened startled them, making them turn their heads in that direction.