Chapter 9: The Oath

Hector had told him to knock when he was 'done' but Alexandros would never be done saying goodbye. He stayed in the cell with his lover's body until Hector returned and took him to the palace. The Trojan didn't bother to speak. He didn't care what they were going to do to him; his grief and anger was too great to think of himself.

This time he was not blindfolded as he was led to the palace. It was late in the evening and he saw no one outside but the usual guards. They entered what Alexandros recognized as the same room as the one where he had been before and, like the last time, King Priam was awaiting him. He looked eager, pleased even to see Alexandros.

"Alexandros. I thought you would like to know that I've sent men to your parents."

"Are you planning to kill my family as well?" The young man asked resentfully.

The King seemed taken aback before he realized what Alexandros was referring to. The former shepherd could practically taste the bitterness on his tongue. So quickly Priam had forgotten.

"That is not my intention at all," the King said.

"Then what is your intention?" Alexandros demanded.

The King cleared his throat. "I wish to introduce you to someone."

Hector visibly shifted his weight, ready to intervene should the young Trojan show any sign of hostility. The King opened a smaller side-door and through it entered a woman. She was veiled so Alexandros could only make out the outline of her face. He did not know her. She, however, only had to take one look at him to gasp in shock.

"It's him!" She cried out. "That is my Paris! That is my son!"

She rushed to Alexandros. Stunned, he did not react at first when she threw her arms around him.

"My son," she sobbed. She lifted her hand to his face and at her touch, Alexandros' rose from his stupor. He jerked back.

"Who are you?"

The woman looked at him in astonishment, as if surprised he did not recognize her. "I'm your mother."

"No, you're not! You're not my mother!"

The former shepherd recoiled from her and Hector gently pulled the woman away from him.

"What is this? What are you trying to do?"

"We're not trying to do anything," Priam attempted to placate. "We believe you are the child we lost twenty years ago."

Alexandros glared. "No."

"You believe your father to be Agelaus, son of Kimon. He was a soldier here in Troy twenty years ago. After my wife Hecuba had given birth to a son, whom we called Paris, she had bad dreams about this child, dreams which were interpreted to mean that he would cause Troy's destruction. Believe me, it was a hard decision for all of us but I thought I was doing the right thing when I gave Agelaus the task to put out our newborn son; it was my greatest regret. Agelaus returned and claimed he had done as I ordered. Then he left Troy altogether. Now you come, as old as Paris would be now, claiming him as your father, looking so similar to my other sons! And now, Hecuba, with the eyes of a mother, swears you are her son Paris! But proof there must be so we have sent for Agelaus to have his say."

The former shepherd shook his head vehemently. "I'm not your son! I'm not your Paris! I'm Alexandros, no one else!"

The King reached out for him but the young man jerked back.

"You are liars! Liars and murderers!" He shouted. "You killed my friend and my lover and now you dare to look me in the face and come up with such lies?"

Hector clamped his hand around Alexandros' shoulder and squeezed it painfully, no longer content with merely watching.

"Shut up!" He commanded.

The King looked at them sadly. "Please, both of you calm down. We will wait for Agelaus but it will not be necessary for Paris to go back to the cell. There are other rooms in the palace much more suited."

"I don't want to live in your palace," the former shepherd protested.

Priam only gave him another look full of pity. "Hector, help him get settled." It was a clear dismissal.

Alexandros spent the night awake. The bed was soft, too soft for his comfort and he was too agitated to think of sleeping. He already knew that guards were right outside his door – courtesy of Hector he was sure, though he could not blame the crown prince. Anything else would have been negligent. The young Trojan had considered leaving the city but he had realized that it was not possible.

He had wondered at least a hundred times how long it would take for his father to arrive. He would undoubtedly hurry so his arrival could be expected the next afternoon. The longer he thought about the matter, the more afraid he became. What if the King and Queen were telling the truth?

He paced his room from wall to wall until the sun rose. In the morning he received breakfast, which was so opulent that Alexandros couldn't finish it. At lunch another servant came. This time, the former shepherd asked him:

"Do you know whether I may leave this room?"

The woman looked uncomfortable. "Crown Prince Hector advises against it," she told him.

"Of course."

The Trojan ate halfheartedly. He was angry and confused and missed Vernados terribly. Angry tears rolled down his cheeks. Alexandros forced himself to suppress them and only succeeded in getting a headache.

Finally, hours after lunch, the door opened and Hector entered.

"Come," he ordered shortly.

They went to a large hall, the room in which the King usually received his petitioners. Alexandros saw both his father and his mother standing close to each other near Deiphobus. Alexandros would have run to his parents if it weren't for the King standing between them.

"Thank you for coming," Priam said.

"It's not as if I had a choice," the former shepherd replied sourly.

"Watch your tone," Hector muttered to him. The young Trojan didn't react.

"Agelaus has admitted that you are not his son," the King continued.

Alexandros was shocked. "What?" He searched his father's – Agelaus' – eyes. The man looked at him mournfully.

"You're lying," the Trojan repeated his words from the day before.

"No, he's not," Agelaus spoke up softly. "I'm sorry, Alexandros. Your name is Paris. I took you on as my son, but you're a child of the King of Troy."

Once again, Alexandros' world broke.

"Father asks whether you want to see Vernados' body again."

"How kind of him," Alexandros replied bitterly. It seemed that his tongue would not utter words in any other tone but in spite.

Hector frowned at him. "You should be grateful he bothered to ask."

"I'm sure I should be. Where will you put up the pyre?"

"There won't be a pyre. Vernados was a spy and a foreigner."

Alexandros' face hardened. "I want a pyre."

"Be careful not to overstep your boundaries, Paris. Our father does much to welcome you back into our family. I, however, will not show you the same courtesy without you doing something in return to deserve it. As far as I'm concerned, you're a stranger."

"You can order me around on any other matter but not on this! I loved him. I will not have his body be the carrion of dogs and crows! I'll make his pyre myself, outside of Troy, where no one will know. Grant me this and I swear I will never say another bad word against this family."

"Your family," Hector reminded him. "Very well. I'll arrange it." The prince turned to leave.

"Wait! What about Kallias?"

"His body has already been taken care of."

The door closed behind the prince.

A few hours later, Paris Alexandros stood in front of a pitifully small pyre. He was close to the forest so he wouldn't have to carry the wood very far but far away enough from the city as not to be seen. Hector and Deiphobus had accompanied him and now lingered a fair distance away, watching Alexandros like guard dogs. Alexandros did not even glance at them. This was more important.

He had not been given much time. Priam planned to give a feast in the new found son's honor that night. It would be the first feast he would attend without feeling Vernados' reassuring presence, and the first feast where he would be the center of attention. There was only a little while left until the crown-prince and his brother would fetch him and escort him back to the city.

Thus the former shepherd had not been able to gather a lot of wood for the pyre; most of it was deadwood and the result was beneath what was considered proper for a warrior's funeral. The young Trojan had spread a cloak of his over his lover's body and only left the face uncovered. Now he stroked over the pale, waxen features one last time.

"Vernados…" he trailed off. The grief threatened to overwhelm him once more but he pushed it down. He refused to look at the Trojan princes behind him but he knew they were there.

Alexandros searched for Vernados' hand and squeezed it tightly.

"I love you," he said quietly. "I'll never forget you." Between clenched teeth he went on: "And I'll never forget whose knife it was that stabbed you."

Looking upwards to the cloudless sky, he swore: "The gods be my witness, your death will be avenged. For Vernados I will see this city fall, even if it costs me my life. I will see Troy fall."

This is the end of Fall. I'd always planned to end it here, leaving it up to the reader's imagination to fill in the rest.

My thanks goes to my dear beta webbswoman, who jumped in despite Troy not being one of her usual fandoms, my alpha reader starlesscity as well as everyone else who helped me in writing this story. I'd also like to thank my faithful reader and reviewer dieb4bekilled as well as everyone else who followed this story. Thank you all! I hope you enjoyed the ride. Now it's your turn:

Comments are always greatly appreciated!