Alexis of Troy (Book I)

ιξ′ - Dekaepta

Seventeen

The silhouette of Troy was like a beacon of hope. The fortified wall, crafted by Apollo and Poseidon, was proudly impenetrable. Troy, in all its riches, was an admirable foe for the Greeks—which was really why Agamemnon wanted to launch a war. Sure, he used Helen and his brother's honour as an excuse, but really the guy wanted power and riches as much as the next greedy king.

Apollo favoured the Trojans, though their relationship had started off rocky. You know, with him and Poseidon building a wall, the king being a cheapskate, Apollo unleashing a plague, et cetera. That whole ordeal.

But that wall was strong and Troy was free to bask in the safety of its confides. Unassuming and with its own heroes and divine support, Troy stood against its enemies without breaking a sweat.

Until it didn't.

I stared at it from the top of the hill we camped under, the sea breeze whisking away the sweat on my brow. We made it without any further incident, and I wondered if that was Aphrodite's doing. She cleared the path for us, to ensure we got to Troy as promised. Knowing she was holding up her end was both a blessing and a curse. Inevitability, we inched closer and closer to war. And to my betrayal.

No matter how many times I told myself I had to do that to get home, leading Paris on like that sucked. There was no better word for it. It. Sucked.

My stomach twisted and I forced myself to retreat down the hill. Chiron was tending to Melanippe, while Paris organized our travel gear. Zoisme was discreet as she stayed out of Paris' way. The pair had yet to make amends, though I doubted Paris would make the first move.

The twisting in my stomach tightened and curled up my chest. It hardened into something like sadness when I locked eyes with the civilized centaur. His brown hair was loose around his shoulders, his beard freshly groomed. His eyes, so full of wisdom, cut through me.

Our arrival meant that Chiron and his daughter would be departing.

"Do you have to go?" I asked.

It was a childish sentiment, yet the centaur's presence was a comfort. He lived up to his reputation as a sage old centaur. Wise, honest, neutral. Everything his brethren were not.

"This is the path you chose," Chiron replied, stroking his beard. "I cannot lead you astray."

Melanippe shook her head with a soft whinny, as if in agreement. Her hair shone blue in the sunlight, and she nudged her father's shoulder affectionately. He pressed a hand against her snout, his tail swishing gently.

"Besides, my daughter misses the fields of home. I must see her back safely."

"I don't think I can do this," I sighed, glancing at Paris. "I still don't know what it is I need to do."

"The rules for the gods' games don't apply to the rest of us," the centaur sighed. "Playing them, however, is an inevitable challenge."

Helpful as always. I bit my lip and glanced at Paris. "Aphrodite told me I had to get him to Sparta, so that's what I'll do. Maybe once in Greece, I can find Zeus and get him to take me home."

Given that Mount Olympus was more of a heavenly location, easier said than done.

"Alexis? We're all set," Paris said, approaching us. He smiled at Chiron. "Thank you for all your help. It's been an honour being in your company."

Chiron dipped his head diplomatically, something akin to a smile gracing his lips.

Paris glanced at me expectantly. Zoisme stood behind Chiron, watching the centaur with a guarded expression. When she noticed me, her eyes darted away, a troubled expression dancing across her eyes. The centaur never offered any further explanations about his suspicions of Zoisme, and I knew even if I'd ask, he wouldn't tell me anything he didn't think worth further dwelling. As far as he was concerned, Zoisme was now part of my path, whether he liked it or not.