A Gift from the Gods

7

The men were anything but gentle as they dragged Zephyra from the temple and tied her down while they made camp. Her body ached, and her skin was beginning to bruise, but her shock and fear overpowered any physical ailment. She knew this land better than the Greeks, but she was still unable to decipher an escape plan. The ropes binding her wrists and ankles were tight, a better construction than anything she could muster herself. The men would glance her way with lust in their eyes, so even if she could free herself of the bonds, she would be able to get far, and she feared the punishment for escape would be worse than acting as a prize of war.

They tied Zephyra to a pole in one of the larger tents. She could already imagine the large stature of her captor, all the men he'd killed. Whatever she could imagine was nothing compared to reality.

He ripped through the leather straps hanging over the doorway, throwing a slight glance towards Zephyra as he untied the sides of his armor. He was tall and lean with yellow hair and an energy that scared her. His muscles were defined, and she knew he could snap her neck with little effort.

"The men found her hiding in the temple," the soldier following said. "They thought she'd amuse you."

The soldier left, and she could hear her captor drinking water from a jug, but Zephyra focused on the canvas walls in front of her, fidgeting with the rope tying her wrists behind her back, trying to keep tears at bay. If anything else, she would not cry for the Greeks. Any of them.

"What is your name?" he said.

Zephyra didn't expect conversation. She wouldn't respond. Partially from pride, but mostly fear. She merely glanced his way again as he stripped his chest and shins of their guards.

"Did you not hear me?"

"You killed Apollo's priests." Zephyra immediately regretted her statement, unwittingly speaking her thoughts aloud.

"I've killed men in five countries but never a priest."

"Then your men did. The sun god will have his vengeance." Zephyra didn't believe the words even as she spoke them, but she sought hope somehow, emulating the comforting views Briseis would have.

"What's he waiting for?" He dipped his hands in a bowl of water and wiped his face. "His priests are dead, and his accolades are captive. I think your god is afraid of me."

"You're nothing but a killer. You know nothing about the gods." She was calm now, almost agreeing with him. If the gods even existed.

"I know more about the gods than your priests." He wrapped a cloth around his waist. "I've seen them."

Though curious, Zephyra kept her eyes forward.

He stepped closer to her. "You're royalty, aren't you? You've spent years talking down to men." He bent down, taking a strand of her hair in his hand and lifting it to his nose. "You must be royalty. What's your name?"

She kept her mouth closed. He would pester her, but what name could she give? The thought was fleeting, but it seemed dangerous to say her own with the status attached to it. While she thought, Achilles knelt down and untied her binds, throwing the rope away from them.

"Even the servants of Apollo have names."

She flinched at that, catching a glimpse of a memory that seemed so long ago. She hoped her cousin riding into the distance meant her safety, but Zephyra couldn't be sure of anything.

"Briseis," she said, making eye contact. He could see through her lie, but he didn't push.

"Are you afraid, Briseis?"

"Should I be?"

"My lord." The soldier from earlier peaked through the door. "Agamemnon requests your presence. The kings are gathering to celebrate the victory."

"You fought well today." Achilles glanced over his shoulder then returned his gaze to Zephyra.

"My lord."

When he left, Zephyra gathered the courage to ask the question burning in her stomach. "What do you want in Troy? You didn't come for the Spartan Queen."

"I want what all men want. More."

Zephyra looked away, pondering his statement. More. What was more for a man like him? Power? Glory? How was he any different than the kings urging the battle on, not blinking an eye at the men dropping before them?

"You don't need to fear me, girl." He stood. "You're the only Trojan who could say that."