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Rage Regret & Redemption	By : Liliana Category: S through Z > Troy Views: 10162 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Troy, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Please note that the disclaimer, pairing and warnings for this story are given at the begining of the first chapter.
CHAPTER SEVEN:
It was the smell of smoke that first woke him, even as his marriage-sister burst through the doors of his chamber, clutching her infant son in her arms.
" The Greeks have breached the city!. They are within Paris!. They are burning it to the ground!!."
Her frightened cry rang like a death-nell in the room and beside him Helen sat up, her eyes wide with terror as her hand fluttered to her chest.
A strange sort of clarity suddently imbdued Paris and he calmly, but firmly, ordered Helen to get dressed as he began to quickly don his armor. Odd, that he should find himself so unsurprised by the news that the Greeks had not sailed away in defeat, after all. But still, he had to bite back a mordant curse as his mind's eye went, unbidden, to that enormous effigy of a horse, brought inside the city at the prideful insistence of the priests. A horse, he now realized, that had held a deadly cargo within the bowels of it's wooden belly.
But this was not the time to dwell on the priests' folly. His people needed him, now that Hector was gone. And he needed to make sure that Helen, his brother's wife and as many Trojans as possible, were able to escape the fallen city. Thus, with his quiver at his back, his bow in hand and his sword by his side, he ushered the women from the chamber, prepared to protect their flight with his very life.
The scene that greeted them in the hallways, was a harrowing one. Smoke from the burning city below, had now reached the upper tiers of the palace and was covering all in a dense, brackish cloud that burned the throat and stung the eyes. Everywhere, bodies were literally running into each other, as all became caught in the mounting frenzy of full-blown panic. It was in the midst of this mayham that Paris' voice rose, clear and true.
" To me!." He called out " To me!."
And the prince of Troy became a beacon in the swirling despair, changing their crazed efforts to escape, into an orderly exodus. Many, did he take to the secret tunnel that led out of the city. Many, who found their chance at freedom down its winding path.
But not him.
Helen had tearfully clung to his armored chest as she begged him not to stay, not to leave her. He had placed a soft kiss upon her golden head, before gently disengaging from the tight embrace. His hand had then cupped her delicate face, the very face that had caused him to bring his people to this ruination, and he tried to make her understand why he could not go with her, why he could not run. It was at that moment that his marriage-sister grabbed his arm.
" Paris. Briseis... she was not in her rooms!."
He looked into the suffering face of this woman, who with his brother had lived as an example of the true meaning of love. This woman, who even now held no hatred for him, though she had full right to do so. And his eyes finally told her all that he had been too ashamed to say before. She smiled sadly, placing a hand against his chest as her own eyes answered him with full forgiveness. Paris lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing her palm with humble gratefulness, before leaning down to brush his lips upon the downy head of his nephew.
" I will find her." He vowed.
He watched as they made their way into the tunnel, his eyes linguering on Helen with all the love he still held for her in his divided heart.
Then, he went back towards the hellish maelstorm.
Paris made his way through the smoke-darkened halls with unerring purpose. He knew that if Briseis yet lived, she would be found at the palace temple, for she had taken the robes of a vestal virgin in service to Apollo. It was a short while later that he came through the temple's elaborate archway, to find the vast chamber largely oscured by the same billowy clouds of brackish smoke that had overtaken the hallways. Straining to see in the foul grayness, he called out.
" Briseis!... Briseis!."
" Paris!."
From the smoke came the disheveled figure of his frightened cousin and Paris knew a moment of soaring joy at seeing her alive and unharmed. But that moment was short-lived, for behind her he saw an arm reach out from within the dense cloud, an arm that he knew did not belong to any Trojan. Almost faster than the eye could see, he had nocked an arrow to his bow and let it fly. But at that very instant, one of the great statues inside the temple toppled over with a resounding crash and the force of it sent the arrow astray. Paris did not hesitate. He quickly sent three more missiles into the smoke and his ears caught the telltale sound that told him they had struck true. it was only then that he also heard his cousin's wailing cry.
" Nay!... Nay, Paris!. He saved me!."
And then he saw the one that stumbled out of the denseness.
The world stopped.
Sky-blue eyes looked up at him and for a moment, they shone with unveiled love as the mighty Greek smiled, gently. Then, they went vacant and the powerful body fell to the ground, golden locks settling upon the stone with a final sigh.
{ Achilles!!!... }
The deafening scream inside Paris was about to burst forth from his throat, when his arm was grabbed by Briseis. He saw his cousin's panicked face, as she pointed frantically towards the temple's far entrance. He saw the enemy warriors pouring from it, with raging cries of battle-lust and a voice, not his own, sounded in his grief-stricken mind.
{ Go... } It said.
Paris and Briseis fled the temple.
Back down the hallways they ran and with them, yet another group of terrified Trojans. Once again, Paris led the way to the secret tunnel and there, he stood guard until all were within. it was then, that he heard the heavy footsteps of approaching warriors and by their loud curses, knew them to be Greeks.
" Go, Briseis. Lead the way to Mount Ida!."
Paris pressed the pummel of his sword into her hands, his eyes unafraid as he spoke his last charge to her.
" This is the sword of Troy. Find a warrior worthy of it. For as long as a Trojan wields this sword, our people have a future."
Then he placed a kiss upon her lips and without another word, sealed the tunnel's entrance behind her. Liquid brown eyes became set with resolve, as he nocked one of the last three arrows left in his quiver. He knew what he had to do. Running away from the sealed tunnel, he positioned himself at the far end of an intersecting hallway. As soon as he saw the first Greeks warriors round the bend, he let fly. His aim proved true, for his arrow went through the throat of the foremost one. The rest of the newly-fallen man's companions turned surprised eyes towards where the lone Trojan stood, as if mocking them. That surprise turned to rage and with murderous cries, the whole group rushed forward.
Paris turned and fled, leading his pursuers far from the tunnel, knowing that by doing so he bought precious time for his people. He let another missile go and again, his aim was true. But now he had only one arrow left and he realized that his own time was about to run out. He stopped then, lifting his bow up as his arm drew back to lift that last arrow from his quiver.
The whizzing sound of a bow string being released rent the air and an arrow struck with such force that it pierced through the armored chest plate. There was a brief instant of agonizing pain...
Then Paris fell.
TBC...
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Rage Regret & Redemption