NOTE: A million THANKS to all my reviewers who determined me to continue this story.

Gaslight – You have no idea how happy it makes me to see that after all this time you are still interested in this story. I appreciate your support very much. It is one of the things that make me keep on writing.

Actually, what happened that time, when you could not leave a review, was that I deleted the chapter soon after I posted it, because it was not finished (I accidentally posted that bit, which I had written almost 2 years ago). So, here's the same chapter with a little extra info about Hector and Patroclus.

Babaksmiles – I don't know if I ever told you but I loved your review very much. I'm so sorry for not updating in such a very long time. If you still like Eudorus I hope you'll continue reading this story for I am doing my best to bring him in as soon as possible. Plus, thank you very much for your suggestions. I will definitely use them in the upcoming chapters.

Chapter X: "A friend in need"

Briseis followed the Syrian queen along the corridor she had previously come through, both of them walking in silence until the Trojan princess became frustrated from too much silence and mystery.

"Am I a prisoner here?" she demanded boldly, as if she was entirely certain she could not receive a positive reply.

"Have you been treated like one?" the queen responded with another question, looking straight forward and not at her interlocutor.

"I have been brought here against my will."

"Your city was destroyed. Where would you have gone?"

"It wouldn't have mattered if I were with my own kin."

"You would not have been happy."

"How could you know that?"

"It is strange how sometimes people come to love their enemies more than their own family," Enehy stopped and looked Briseis straight in the eyes.

"What are you saying?"

"I need your help," the queen looked very serious, placing her hands of Briseis' shoulders.

"I don't understand. Of what use could I be to you?"

"I will tell you something but you must promise me this will remain between the two of us. No one must know I have told you this."

"What must you tell me that is of such great importance?" Briseis asked a bit startled by the queen's attitude.

"Arokh was not entirely sincere with you. Achilles is alive and he is coming here along with the entire Greek army, only to find you."

Hearing this, Briseis gasped in surprise and felt as if her heart had stopped, due to the tremendous joy that overwhelmed her.

"You said the entire Greek army is coming. Why is that?" she asked concerned this time and with slight fear in her voice.

"I have made an agreement with their king to offer us military support since our army can no longer cope with the countless attacks from enemies who whish to subdue us."

"That is why Syrian troops fought alongside the Greeks to defeat Troy."

"Precisely."

"Knowing Agamemnon, I assume this agreement was not as simple to make as it seems."

"You assume correctly. In order for us to be allies and not enemies, I must become his wife."

"And you agreed to this?" Briseis asked in a state of obvious shock.

"I had no choice, but this is a thing of the past now. I must gather all my strength and prepare for the future, which is why I need your help."

"For what?"

"That night, when Troy was invaded, Achilles did not come there for battle. He came for you, only for you, to save you and take you away from all the pain and sufferings. Now I fear he will do the same here. He will come, he will take you and he will leave. But I don't want him to leave. He is an extraordinary fighter and I need him to fight for me. When he comes, I want you to convince him to stay and fight for me."

"No, I cannot risk loosing him again, now that I know he is alive."

"He will not die. He is too great a warrior and his gods protect him, they guide his sword in battle. Please help me. Arokh has always been a good and loyal friend to me but I have betrayed his trust by telling you this, to save my country and my people. Wouldn't you have done the same to save Troy?"

Briseis didn't know what to say and simply gazed at the Syrian queen who starred back at her with pleading eyes.

"If you do this for me I will do my best so the two of you can find peace and happiness in your lives. And just like Arokh promised, we will search for the Trojans who escaped the massacre and you will be reunited with your family."

"I will do what I can, but I cannot promise you anything. I want to ask you only one thing in return."

"Of course. Ask for anything."

"I would like to see Helen."

"That is a bit difficult, I'm afraid, because the Spartan King does not allow her to leave their chambers and he has ordered two of his own soldiers to guard her and I have no power over them …… However, I believe there is a way for you to see Helen," the queen responded, after giving the matter a second thought.

Sitting in the balcony on a wooden bench adorned with soft cushions, Helen was startled from her dreams by the harsh sound of the wooden doors being opened. She stood up and turned to see who it was, praying that it wasn't Menelaus. Fortunately, the gods heard her prayers and the ones who entered were three maidservants. One of them, an elderly woman, bowed before her and then retreated to the back of the room, where she laid on a table the tray with the queen's dinner. The other two servants, who had their hair covered with a white veil that partially hid their face from sight as well, approached Helen, one of them more hastily, almost running. When she uncovered her face, Helen was bewildered.

"Briseis!" she exclaimed, embracing her with joy, "I was so worried. What happened? Where did they take you?"

"Nothing bad happened, but I was more concerned about you. Did he hurt you?"

"Not in a way that he hasn't done before. Briseis, I am afraid. I don't want to go back to Sparta. It cannot end this way, not after everything Paris and I sacrificed to be together, after all the harm we caused."

"You will not go back," the other servant revealed herself to be the Syrian queen. "Paris will come after you. In fact, I believe he is already on his way. Arokh, my most trustful general, told me he saw Paris with Achilles and that they did not appear to behave as enemies, but as friends."

"Paris and Achilles?" Briseis asked flabbergasted, while Helen was too taken aback by the news to say anything.

"So it would seem. Well, I must leave you know. Briseis, make sure you leave before Menelaus returns. The banquet is drawing to an end now. Oh, and Helen, I have something for you."

"What are these?" Helen asked upon opening the pouch that the queen handed to her, and seeing about a dozen green fruits, each of them no larger than a cherry.

"These will rid you of Menelaus' abuses until you will gain your freedom. Squeeze the juice from three fruits in his wine goblet and make sure he drinks it. He will fall into a deep sleep and awake late in the morning having no recollection of the past night's events. You can tell him of the incredible night of passion you supposedly spent together and he shall believe your every word."

"What an incredible sorcery. Thanks you," the Spartan Queen was overjoyed to hear about the effects of the miraculous fruits.

"No sorcery, only nature. Blessed be the gods for the gifts they bestowed upon us. Make sure you use it properly and you do not get caught," Enehi did not appear as enthusiastic and maintained a neutral attitude, using a strict tone.

"I shall be prudent, I promise."

After she remained alone once more Helen quickly but cautiously prepared a sleeping potion with hallucinogenic effects, using the fruits the queen had brought her. The remaining ones she hid in a safe place. A few hours more Helen awaited nervously the return of Menelaus, her heart beating with anxiety, praying her fearing eyes and trembling hands would not give away her foul deed before him.

To her great relief, Menelaus returned late into the night, too drunk and tired to force Helen to do anything against her will. His first attempt, though commencing with him savagely advancing towards her and slamming her against the bed very soon ended with him panting almost desperately for air and then falling instantly into an alcohol induced sleep.

Pushing his numb body aside with disgust Helen rose from the bed and took the same place she had occupied earlier in the balcony, gazing at the night sky, remembering how she had stood, in a night as peaceful as that, in the balcony of her lover's sleeping chamber. She though she could still feel him approaching, his warm breath against the side of her neck. Yet it was a mere illusion, only night's cold breeze caressing her skin.

Though the Syian sky appeared clear and peaceful it had not been so during the day, when a powerful sandstorm swept across the eastern desert, engulfing two inexperienced solitary travelers. Fortunately for the poor souls, their unconscious bodies were found by a tribe of Bedouins. It was them who pulled the two men from underneath the cover of burning sand and brought them to one of the improvised tents they had set up close to a small oasis.

"Traveler, are you feeling well?" the deep voice of the chief of the tribe, a middle-aged Nubian, broke the silence of the tent as he saw the dark-haired, bearded man slowly regain consciousness.

Hector opened his eyes with difficulty, the visions from his dreams still vivid in his mind – a spirit bringing him back from the dead, a foe becoming an ally, a wife and a son drifting away from him. The first thing he saw when his sight became clear was a dark-skinned man wearing light-blue, long-sleeved robes that covered his entire body and a large dark-blue turban on his head. The man spoke a language Hector did not understand but there was concern in his voice and his mild eyes showed kindness and wisdom.

"If I were to guess I'd say you're from the far west, the land where the great city of Troy lies, or even further, from Greece." Seeing that Hector did not understand his language, the man amazed him by addressing him in an almost fluent Greek.

"You mean where the great city of Troy used to lie. Yes, Troy was my home but it fell to the Greeks."

"News from far away kingdoms rarely reaches our ears in this corner of the world. I am sorry for your loss."

Hector nodded in agreement and suddenly remembered Patroclus. Looking over the man's shoulder he saw him still sleeping on a blanket opposite to him.

"Thank you for this. We are most grateful."

"What man is he who ignores his brother's suffering?"

"But we are to you nothing but strangers from a distant land that to anyone spending a lifetime here might seem just a legend."

"Only men see differences between men. We even pray to different gods but they still see us as equals."

"If only more could understand this. The world would be a better place."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Who knows? Eat now, regain your strength." His response to Hector's affirmation was uttered on a grave tone that concealed a deep sorrow. Before his interlocutor could formulate a response, the chief Bedouin changed the course of the conversation, abruptly putting an end to the subject under discussion. "If it is Damascus you were heading to, we can take you there. We pass by the city on our journey," the man stood up slowly as he made his proposition to Hector.

"Yes … we were heading to Damascus," he hesitated before answering. Truth be told, he and Patroclus had never had a clear destination in mind. They only knew their goal was to reach Syria, where they had been told, as it were by the gods themselves, through enigmatic means, that they will be reunited with their loved ones.

"Then we leave as soon as your friend awakens," the man gave a quick smile and just as fast exited the tent.