Will More Strongly

Will More Strongly

Chapter VI


The other ships were only just reaching the shore as Achilles charged up the stairs leading to the temple of Apollo. The priests who were undoubtedly hiding within were his best chance of finding some sign of Alexandros. They could make a petition to the god and attempt to discover the boy's location. At the very least he could be pointed in the correct direction.

"Guard the door," Achilles ordered, glancing over his shoulder at Eudorus. "I will be but a few minutes."

"My lord, the Trojans...."

Shifting his gaze to follow Eudorus' line of sight, Achilles saw the groups of advancing horsemen. He took his spear in hand and drew it back over his shoulder. At the front of the group were two men, one young and in the prime of his life, the second older and robust, a warrior who had seen many battles and perhaps even more feasts. The riders were still a good distance away, but Achilles launched his spear at his intended target. The horsemen came to an abrupt halt as the point of Achilles' spear embedded itself deep within the chest of the aging warrior.

"That should keep them occupied for a time," Achilles grinned before striding into the temple. "I go alone, Eudorus. Keep all out."

Achilles vision was initially dimmed as he stepped into the dark, and blessedly cooler, interior of the temple. He blinked owlishly for several moments, waiting for his eyes to adjust themselves to the lack of light in the corridor before moving further into the structure. At the far end of the corridor, Achilles could see the flickering of flames and the shadows of figures moving about it.

"I come seeking knowledge, priests!" Achilles shouted as he moved slowly towards their sanctuary. "I mean you no harm so long as you give me the answers that I seek."

There was a great deal of shuffling, but no answers came.

"I am willing to offer up my most prized possession," Achilles said to the nervous shadows, reluctantly tugging the leather thong from about his neck that held his wooden ring. "It is a gift from my love. The last present that he gave to me. I would give it up as a gift to your god would be but answer my question."

The silence lasted a few moments longer before one of the priests came to stand at the entrance of the sanctuary. "You come in peace then?"

Achilles nodded in affirmation. "I do. Tell me where I may find the one I love and I will leave you in peace."

"Then come with me, my son," the priest instructed, turning back into the sanctuary.

Closing his fist tight about the much worn piece of jewelry, Achilles stalked towards the center of the temple where several priests stood in wait. Soon he would be forced to part with the only thing he had of Alexandros'. Daunting as the task was now, Achilles knew it would be worth it in the end when he had his love safe with him once again.

"Since you will not allow me to accompany you in person, thill hll have to suffice," Alexandros mumbled as he searched through his satchel which hung diagonally across his chest. His eyes lit up when he found what it was that he was looking for and turned his brilliant smile on Achilles. "It is nothing quite so ornate as I am sure you are accustomed to, however, I did carve it myself so I hope that it will hold some sentimental value at the very least."

Alexandros removed his hand from the satchel and opened his closed fist to reveal a simple wooden ring.

"You seek a shepherd, do you not?"

Achilles' fingers closed over the ring as the priest's words pulled him from his thoughts. After collecting himself a moment, the warrior nodded his head. "Yes. His name is Alexandros."

"We require your offering," the priest instructed, holding out his hand.

Achilles once again found himself staring at the ring which rested in his palm. Now that the time came he did not think that he could bear to part with it. His mind plagued him with a variety of possible outcomes, none of them the kind Achilles hoped for was was a chance that needed to be taken and for that reason alone Achilles dropped the simple band of laurel wood into the priest's open palm.

The priest moved around the large pyre in the center of the room and out of Achilles line of sight. He immediately followed after the older man, wanting to see the fate of his beloved ring.

"This ring is meant to keep you safe. I performed magics on it known only to shepherds such as myself," Alexandros grinned, holding the ring up between his thumb and forefinger. "It will keep you safe from anyone who tries to harm you.... Either that or simply remind you that there is someone out there who loves you desperately for I may have made a slight miscalculation in mixing the herbs together."

Achilles nearly screamed in outrage when he saw his ring being placed into the pyre. Before his eyes the flames consumed the small piece of wood, turning it first to black and then distorting its shape so that it no longer resembled the ring Alexandros had crafted.

There was some chanting and the sprinkling of herbs then the priest said quite clearly, "The boy who dwelled on Ida's mount exists no longer. Search if you will, but he will not be found."

Achilles sucked in a deep breath, his gaze narrowing onto the charred remains of the ring beforvingving to encompass the priest. "That is not the answer I require."

"I am sorry, but responses cannot be made to match your desires," the priest stated calmly. "I can only interpret the messages as they are given to me."

The words had not even left the priest's mouth when Achilles had the man's robes in his fist. He hauled the priest up so that their eyes were level and pressed the tip of his sword to the Apollo devotee's throat.

"You destroyed something very valuable to me," Achilles growled. "You will pay for that."

"My lord, we have--"

"Eudorus!" Achilles shouted over his shoulder, interrupting the man.

"My lord?" his second-in-command called from the far end of the corridor.

"Get the men in here and kill all of the priests!" Achilles ordered. He had played all of the games he was going to. Keeping firm hold of the priest, he dragged the frightened man out a side door of the temple and into the blinding sun. He stalked to the edge of the walkway that surrounded the building and thrust the priest's upper body over it. "You have one chance more to give me a useful answer. Tell me how to find Alexandros and I will spare your life. If not, you die."

"There is nothing I can tell you," he protested feebly. "I do not know where this Alexandros is."

Without a second's hesitation, Achilles thrust his sword through the priest's stomach then allowed his body to topple to the sandy ground several stories below. He did not watch the decent, but rather turned his eyes to the fierce battle currently taking place on the shores of the beach. Achilles did not doubt for a moment that both Agamemnon and Menelaus had remained on their ships in relative safety. So it was, thoroughly disgusted and already weary of a war only minutes old, that Achilles returned to the temple enclosure.

~*~*~

The initial awe Hector had felt when he'd seen the power and accuracy of the spear being tossed vanished as he realized just who it was that had thrown the spear. For only one man would have possessed the strength to throw a spear such a great distance. And in his heart Hector knew that his brother was now lost to him. He could not fully reconcile himself to that thought, however. Hector had sworn that he would keep Paris safe and meant to stand by that oath.

"They will not be allowed to desecrate the temple!" Hector shouted as he spurred his horse forward.

There was a flash of blonde hair and then the man he took to be Achilles disappeared within the enclosure.

As Achilles' Myrmidons were guarding the main entrance to the temple, Hector rode forward with his men, intending to turn away at the very last moment so that he could go around the back and to the opposite side of the structure where a second entrance was located. If his assumptions were correct then Achilles would be in the temple alone and as Hector himself knew the layout of the building he would have the advantage.

Enacting his plan was not so easily done. Even not knowing of the alternative entrance, the Greek fighters seemed to anticipate his path and sought to hinder it. His horse was lost to him almost immediately, and with it the advantage of height, as the beast shied up on its hind legs. Hector landed hard on his back and was barely able to roll aside in time to prevent the same spear that had frightened his mount from plunging into his chest. As the Greek soldier hoisted the spear back over his head, Hector rolled back towards him and thrust his sword into the man's stomach.

~*~*~

Paris had stood stock-still on the battlements ever since he had heard the sounding of horns that announced the beginning of battle. From his vantage point he could see nothing save the empty plain that cut off sharply as it descended to the beach below. It wa the the beach that the fighting was currently taking place.

A beach where Hector, and quite possibly Achilles as well, fought.

"I should be out there," Paris lamented as the distant sounds of men fighting and dying reached his ears.

"Hector ordered you to remain here because he wanted to ensure your safety," Andromache soothed as she appeared at his side. "He knows, as we all do, that you are not a warrior. You can fire a bow with such skill as I have never seen before, but you have not yet had enough training with a sword and an archer is vulnerable in the close quarters of a battle. "

"There is still much that I could do," Paris insisted, glancing briefly at Andromache before turning his gaze back towards the distant battlefield.

Andromache placed a comforting hand on his arm. "And which you will do should the Greeks reach the walls of the city."

"I pray it does not come to that."

~*~*~

Moving silently, Hector rounded the final corner and stood only steps from the side entrance to the temple. As he did so he saw that there was no need for him to enter the building as his quarry was already on the walkway. Before Hector's very eyes, Achilles speared the high priest on the end of his sword and let him drop from the walkway to the sand far below then turn away to face the sea.

Hector knew then that he could not allow Achilles to find out about Paris. The man had killed an unarmed priest before his very eyes and he would not trust his brother's life to a man who would do such a thing. Paris would simply have to accept that the man he loved had been created by the naive emotions of a young shepherd who had found love for the first time.

"I know full well that you are there," Achilles drawled as he turned to face Hector. "And judging by your dress I am going to guess that you are a member of the nobility. The mighty Hector, perhaps?"

"And judging by your brutality I am going to guess that you are the great Achilles," Hector countered, earning him a smirk from the blonde warrior. "I did not realize that you were the murderer of innocent men."

"That man had every opportunity to save his life," Achilles ground out, his fingers tightening on the hilt of the sword he still held in his hands. "He destroyed something very precious to me and did not folthrothrough on his promise to me."

"Those are very steep terms," Hector murmured as he advanced still closer to the Grecian. "Just what, pray tell, was this promise the priest broke?"

Achilles scowled briefly. "That is no concern of yours. I would suggest that you leave this place now else you will find yourself in a very dangerous position."

In the following moments Hector found himself surrounded by a group of men who poured out of the temple and ascended the same steps he had only a short time ago. The Myrmidons all had their weapons drawn and Hector knew that he would have a difficult time defending himself such a well honed fighting force.

"I suggest that you return to the palace, Prince Hector," Achilles suggested as he moved closer to the other man. "It would be a shame for Troy to lose its champion so soon."

It would have been infinitely simple for Hector to remove the Greek's greatest warrior from the coming conflict were he to but inform Achilles of Paris' true identity. There would still be a war, but the scales would be greatly tipped in their favour were Achilles to fight for Troy. To do so, however, would place Paris in great danger and Hector would not risk his brother's life in such a way. He would instead have to take it upon himself to be the better warrior.

"Do not hold your skills in such high regard that you believe yourself to be invulnerable," Hector warned as he stalked back towards the stairs. "In the end you are mortal just as the rest of us."

~*~*~

Paris was hovering around the edge of the council room when Hector charged in, his face set in a dark scowl. In the center of the room their father was gathered with his counselors discussing how they were to defend their city against the invading Greeks. Knowing that he had no place in the proceedings, Paris kept himself out of it.

"I am relieved to see you safely returned to the city," Priam sighed as his eldest slid into his customary seat at the king's right side.

"Unfortunately not all families will be able to make the same claim," Hector grumbled, his eyes darting momentarily in Paris' direction. "Many are already dead including the priests at the temple outside the city's walls. Murdered by Achilles and his Myrmidons."

"Achilles would not do that!" Paris shouted before he could stop himself.

In an instant all eyes in the room were on him. Paris blanched and instinctively shrunk back against the wall. He steeled himself, though, and took several steps forward in an attempt to hide his uneasiness.

"Achilles would not murder the priests," Paris insisted, his voice much more controlled.

"I beg to differ, little brother. I watched as the high priest was impaled upon Achilles' sword with my own eyes. He showed no remorse for the act whatsoever," Hector calmly informed the younger man.

Suddenly, things began to dawn upon Paris and he turned his own glare upon Hector, stalking forward so that he stood upon the edge of the rectangular pool in the center of the room. "You were near to Achilles. You spoke to him. Why did you not tell him who I was?"

Pursing his lips momentarily, Hector met his brother's glare head on. "Alexandros the shepherd is dead. You are a prince of Troy now, Paris. And beyond that you are my brother and I will not entrust your safety to a murderer."

"Achilles would never harm me," Paris ground out, knowing the truth of his statement with every fiber of his being. "I would be safer by his side than anywhere else in the world."

"My sons, please!" Priam pleaded, interrupting the argument before it escalated further. "I bid you stop this foolishness this instant!"

With one final heated glare, Paris spun about on his heel and stalked from the room. He was desperate to return to Achilles' side if only to assure his lover that he still lived. That would require him to evade the palace guards and escape the impenetrable walls of the city and somehow hide himself from the Greek soldiers in the midst of their camp. The very prospect terrified Paris, but it was necessary. He had stolen Helen from Menelaus to keep Achilles safe and he would not allow his lover to endanger himself in the ensuing war.

Before long Paris once again found himself upon the battlements staring out tos ths the distant beaches where the Greek army was now encamped. Achilles was out there, so very close to him, yet still beyond his reach.

"Your brother did what he thought was best," Priam stated as he joined Paris on the battlements some time later. "He interpreted the events as they were presented to him and did what he could to keep you safe."

"Hector knew what Achilles and I are to each other. He knew that I would be safe with him," Paris insisted, his eyes never once leaving the horizon.

"You will not be safe so long as this war continues whether you are with Achilles or no," Priam said as he placed what was undoubtedly meant to be a comforting hand between his shoulder blades.

In response to his father's words, Paris stepped away from the battlements and turned to face him. "Then I will end this war. I will face Menelaus in battle."

"Paris...." the king sighed, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

"I will do you proud, father."

"I do not doubt that, my son," Priam assured him, smiling fondly at his youngest as he raised his hands to cup Paris' cheeks. "All the same I do fear for you."