Troy

Paris Swings Back

Paris looked into the eyes of his bulky enemy. He was about a half a foot taller than Paris with red hair and a red beard, a flabby but firm stomach and brood stance. He was smiling. Laughing at Paris's scrawny form. Oh great what did I get myself into this time! Ok calm down, just try your hardest, for Troy, for Father, for Helen.

Menelaus threw down is shield and laughed. This is the best Troy could throw at me? He thought, this will be easy.

Not good sign! Paris was panicking. He tried his hardest not to let it show on the outside, he had to be tough for Helen, for his family and culture.

He brought his shield up to cover his chest and held his sword at length, pointed straight at his opponent's heart, but his palm was sweaty and his nerves wobbled the blade. Menelaus struck first, Paris dodged and the sword struck his shield. This pattern carried on, Paris blocked to late and struck in the nose and blood gushed down to his mouth.

The taste of blood, his own, blood in his mouth made him feel sick, but it also made him angry. Angry that he was letting this brutal pig beat him in his own city! So he did what any Prince would do in this situation, he fought back harder and faster. He managed a few blows to connected with Menelaus, a few cuts and scrapes. And a vicious blow to his forehead, right between the eyes, made Menelaus groan and blink to get his vision back.

Paris was stunned, he'd managed to knock the brute senseless for a second, but he got his bearings back and took this opportunity to attack. He wielded his sword and managed to get Menelaus in the shoulder. Menelaus stumbled at this attack but, filled with a new anger, he sprang at Paris and managed to sliced a deep but not fatal cut into his thigh.

Paris let out a weak cry before his sword was tossed from his grip. Great, I'm injured and weapon less, just great.

Menelaus stumbled back to catch his breath and peer at his new shoulder wound.

"You'll pay for that prince of Troy." Menelaus muttered angrily.

Paris took that chance to crawl back for his sword. Hector looked on at his little brother in wonder, he was so young yet he still battled fiercely and was not afraid of death.

Even though Hector had muttered those words in his head Paris could still hear them, filled with a new strength from his brothers words, he stood and ran towards Menelaus with all his strength and cried a battle cry putting the older warrior of for a moment. But Paris wasn't expecting Menelaus to have his sword ready and just as he reached him, Menelaus plunged his sword into Paris's abdomen cutting his cry short and gaining a pained look from him.

With his last once of strength Paris gripped his sword and plunged it into Menelaus's heart. They stood like that for a moment, then Menelaus let go of his sword that was still embedded in Paris's abdomen and slide to the ground with a pool of blood forming beneath him. The whole of Troy and its opposing enemy stood still all stunned at the site before them.

"No." Helen didn't fight the tears that were forming in her eyes. She couldn't care less if her scumbag husband died, it was Paris, her true love that she worried about. She cuddled up closer to Andromache who was also letting her tears follow freely, as they watched Paris fall to his knees with the sword still sticking out of his abdomen.

Paris fought to stay conscious, blackness ebbing its way round his vision. Hector was first to break out of his shock, running to Paris's side. He picked him up in his arms so that he wouldn't fall on the sword and push it farther into his stomach. Paris looked up to Hector before losing conscious all together. Hector felt for a pulse on Paris's wrist before whistling to his horse.

Aaron, Hector's horse, came trotting up to them and Hector placed Paris on top of him carefully before slipping on behind him.

"Paris, Prince of Troy has fought for Helen and won. You can turn and go back to your ships and go back to Greece. Helen stays. She is now Helen of Troy!", Hector called back to the enemy. The Trojan army cheered.The King stood dumfounded at the site of his dead brother.

"My brother is dead! You expect me to just let him go down with out a battle! WE FIGHT!" He called back and the armies went to war.

Yah! My first proper story!

Shall I continue?

Poor paris! But at lest he put up a fight!