Spirits Forged in Fire

Briseis woke the next morning to an empty tent. As she glanced around, she saw the warrior's armor still lying askew on the ground, and breathed a sigh of relief that the war had not begun yet; her family was still safe within Troy's walls. Now if only she could join them there...

To allay her boredom, she began a slow perusal of the contents inside the tent. For a man who was hailed as a slayer of hundreds of men, he didnt seem to have many treasures to show for himself. His living conditions were simple, with only his armor demonstrating any attention to detail. The curious young woman traced her fingers over each golden detail, marveling at the simple precision of the makers work. It was clear that the suit was not new, for the dark mahogany color of the bronze had been faded to a dull gold in some spots. As Briseis studied it, she began to realize that the metallic plates were free of any dents or scratches; it appears that the man had never been struck by an enemy's weapon! Her gaze travelled over to his shield, where, unlike the suit, many large indentations notched the once-smooth surface. Clearly he had faced men of great strength, and yet perhaps the stories were true; the man could not be hurt. The danger that her family was in became all the more apparent to the Trojan princess, for she knew that the gods could not favor both Achilles and Hector at the same time.

Her hand reached for under her robe, where a small vial had been sown into a pocket of her robe. She ripped off the inside panel, and held the tiny bottle in her hand. In it contained a powerful snake venom, given to her by the Priests of Apollo so that she could kill herself to keep herself a pure temple for her god, in case any man sought out to take her by force. Although she had no intention of ever using it on herself, she was now glad that she had kept it. She stole over to the corner where Achilles kept his wash basin and drinking water. She drank some for herself, and then placed several drops of the lethal poison in both water sources, to guarantee consumption. A twinge of guilt struck at her for a moment, but she reassured herself that she was acting on behalf of Troy, on behalf of her family.

"We'll see if you really are immortal Ach..." She whispered, but then was startled when her voice caught in her throat. She could not, did not want to picture the tanned warrior with his stormy blue eyes closed forever, and fought the growing temptation to pour out the poisoned water. With her head held high though, she stepped back towards the bed, determined to be steady. She spun around when she heard the flap of the tent move, and dreaded the sight of the man who had been so careful to treat her well, the man whom she intended to murder. Instead, a greater fear gripped her heart when she recognized the scarred face of the man they called Kale.

"Still feisty I see. Well perhaps its true then, and Achilles did in fact spare your maidenhood. The King will be pleased." Kale spoke in a low voice, as the two stared at eachother. The two remained motionless, their eyes locked on eachother on a battle of wills, daring the other to move first. Briseis broke eye contact first, diving for the armor pile at the far end of the tent, trying to grasp a dagger or a sword. As she spotted one, Kale gripped her ankle and dragged her backwards onto her stomache. He flipped her over as she got hold of a sharpening stone and struck out. The blow struck Kale right above his left eye, and split open a cut above his eyebrow. Although the man rocked violently, he stayed upright, and his grip on Briseis shoulders never ceased. He yanked the rock out of her hand, and pinned both her arms above her head, his bloody face nearing her own. "Had Agamemnon not been looking forward to your arrival, I would severely punish you for that." Briseis turned her face away in defiance, but was powerless to free herself. Kale pulled out his dagger and placed it directly between yoru breasts, slicing a line down the center of the fabric covering her cleavage. "I would hate to see such pretty things ruined on behalf of your spirited nature my lady." Briseis held her breath, daring not to inhale lest it place her even closer to the man's blade. "Then again, I can only hope that the King will grow weary of your fight, and will turn you over to me. If he discards you, you will be mine." Kale said, threateningly. Terrified but determined not to show it, Briseis spat into his face,

"I will never be yours." Kale struck her on the side of the face with the handle of his knife, and smiled as she flinched in pain.

"That may not be up to you my lady. Now we go to the King, he has been waiting." Kale sneered, yanking the stunned girl onto her feet. Both of her arms pinned in one of his hands, he kept the other hand with the knife in it at her back, as reassurance of her behaviour.