After Troy

[crimsonpetal]

After Troy (by invitation only)

Ilia:

Ilia could barely see through the smoke and debris. She choked on the thick gray air and crawled along the edge of the corridor, the stone hard and hot against her knees. There was a clearing ahead and she headed for that. She was not thinking about escape from the Greeks, her dead brothers and husband, or her beloved father. All she craved, all she could think of was air. She was dizzy and lightheaded—the clearing in the dense smoke ahead was her only hope.

She found herself in the north end of the courtyard and it was deserted. The air was clearer here but heavy with the scent of death. There were bodies. Mostly Trojans. A few Greeks. Everything was bathed in an eerie red glare from the fires that consumed the once-beautiful city. She continued to move slowly, her breaths labored.

She moved toward a statue of Artemis, lovely sister of Apollo, protectress of maidens. She prayed silently to the virgin huntress, and as she reached the base of the statue, a shadow moved and there was the indistinguishable sound of a footstep.

She made out the figure of a Greek soldier, easily recognizable by the crest of the chimera engraved on the chestplate. The lurid light from the fires glinted against the metal and seemed to make the chimera sway toward her, swishing its tail.

“Woman, what is your name?” the soldier demanded, peering down at her.

“I am Ilia of Troy. King Priam’s daughter,” she answered, trembling but proud. She would not deny her name. It was the one thing she had left. The world was spinning and her head throbbed. She coughed.

“A royal jewel; a fine prize for Agammemnon or one of the generals,” he murmured under his breath. He was already imagining the coin he would receive for having captured her.

As he reached for her, the world, already gray, went black…

The ship that bore her to the shores of Argos was called “The Zephyr.” It was one of the finest of the Greek ships, the most luxurious, and the least crowded. Agamemmnon, leader of the Greek army was there, and so were many of Greece’s strongest fighters who had survived. It was on this ship that Ilia’s fate was decided.

She would be given to General Dardanos, Agamemmnon’s favorite warrior and the “pride of Greece.” Dardanos was taller than most with dark hair and intense gray-green eyes. Those unforgettable eyes reminded Ilia of the sea after a storm. She saw little of her future lord and master on the long sea-journey to Greece.

But as “The Zephyr” landed safely on Greek soil, Ilia knew that would change.

 

[slowandeasy]

General Dardanos

The voyage had been rough in more ways then one. Many of the warriors were still nuusing their wounds and the stormy sea didn't improve their temperment. Amoung them was General Dardanos and despite his own particluar wounds, had the duty to prevent any serious discord and try to maintain some semblance of order during the Zephers return to Greece.

The one thing that had kept him from loosing his sanity during that trying time was the 'prize' that awaited him when they reached shore.

llia of Troy, Daugher of King Priam was indeed a jewel coveted by many of his fellow warroirs, but awarded to him for his valor and courage during the war with Troy.

Even though he was anxious to meet her having only caught a few brief glimpses of her as the ship made its way home,.he refrained from making contact with her as was expected of him and at any rate he was not fit company for one so lovely as her. Once home and the ceremonies took place, until he had time to renew his body with food and drink, until he was able to relax, leave the thoughts of battle and bloodshed behind him and know the feeling of being safely home again; he would maintain his distance. Then and only then would he claim his prize.

 

[crimsonpetal]

Ilia

After so many weeks on the temperamental, windedark sea, Ilia found herself grateful for the sight of land on the horizon--even if that land was a foreign shore laden with the enemy. There were many moments during the journey when she considered stepping off the bow of the ship into the swirling, fathomless waters but self-preservation won over despair. Besides, she was constantly and meticulously watched.

During the journey, Ilia had spoken little but had listened and kept watch. She had often overheard her father speak of battle strategies and one of the most basic principles of war is to know thy enemy. She learned everything that she could about General Dardanos. He was younger than most generals, unmatched with the sword, and unmarried. Due to this last quality, Ilia was considered lucky. As a war prize, Dardanos could do with her what he liked. He could bed her, wed her, or both. He could keep her as a concubine and marry another. The last choice would be the worst for Ilia. A Greek wife would most likely not look favorably upon her husband's mistresses, especially a royal rival, and Ilia would find herself at the mercy of both Dardanos and his wife.

Andromache, her brother's widow, held Ilia close as the two women parted and whispered wise words in her ear, "Use the few advantages that you have left, dear sister, do not let pride overwhelm your good judgment. If you can get him to marry you, do it. And do it quickly."

Dardanos too had learned what he could about the Trojan princess. He had learned that she had been married less than a year to a man significantly older than herself and that there had been no children from the union. He also learned that she had been very close to her father Priam and was praised for being clever and virtuous.

What Dardanos did not know was that Ilia carried a secret. On the night of her wedding, Ilia's husband did not exercise his marital right. And on subsequent nights he did nothing but lie next to her and plant a kiss on her cheek or her forehead. As time wore on, and her marriage was never consumated, Ilia feared that she was not attractive to her husband and placed herself in the hands of Aphrodite for guidance.

One balmy spring night during a festival in honor of Demeter, Ilia took a walk in the gardens alone. She was startled by a low, guttural moan. As she moved closer to the sound, she saw two shapes entwined, moving softly together in the dusky torchlight. As she looked closer, she recognized a male servant. And as the other's face turned toward the light, she perceived the face of her husband.

She gasped and ran back to the festival. If her husband had seen her there, he never told her. And Ilia never said a word to anyone.

Now, at 21, she was a widow--and still a virgin. She had loved her husband the way a sister loves an older brother. He had always been good to her. Would the general know she was a virgin? If so, would he figure out the secret of her marriage? Ilia feared the dishonor of her late husband's name.

On shore, Dardanos got his first real glimpse of Ilia. She was average height but something about the way she carried herself gave the illusion that she was taller. Her hair was a wavy reddish brown that gleamed copper in the sunlight and she had a voluptuously tempting, heart-shaped mouth.

As the horses were prepared for the final part of the journey home, the pair watched one another when they were fairly certain the other wasn't looking. At one moment, their eyes met and Dardanos read the expression in the apple-green jade depths of the princess's eyes:

"You may have conquered Troy but you shall not conquer me."

 

[slowandeasy]

Dardenos

“What is it?” Aeneas asked his friend and fellow warrior as he noticed Dardanos lagging behind the procession of his fellow soldiers and the mass of people who had met the ship and welcomed them back to the city. “ I would think you would be anxious to join the others in celebration of our victory, and surely there is more than one or two comely Greek ladies who have been pining for your attentions while you have been absent.”

Dardenos’s face brightened even though he had been in deep thought and serious consideration over the look in llia’s sea green eyes as he had caught her looking at him before they had mounted and started off.. The look was very disconcerting to him although he should have expected it from the Princess llia. Her very stature spoke to him of pride and dignity. Had he expected her to be subservient and submissive? As the daughter of King Priam and from what rumors had reached his ears he should have known better. Even though she was married to a man much older than herself and it was said that he was a bit of a rogue, there had never been even the slightest hint that she had strayed from his bed or spoke against him in any way. There was no doubt that her allegiance was to him, to her father and to Troy, even though the city now lay in ruins.

A nagging thought remained however. Was that look of disdain for Greece in general or for him in particular? If it was for him, he knew he couldn’t break her like as he would a wild horse. Perhaps time would bring about a change of heart and that she would come to know him as a man and not as a Greek who had forced her from her homeland.

He turned to his friend “And what of you? he asked . “ Is there not some winsome girl waiting in your bedchamber at this very moment,. Perhaps it is you that should hurry home.” He looked at Aeneas. Even though his blonde beard was straggly and unkempt his clothes were dirty and his body covered with scratches and abrasions his blue eyes were bright with the anticipation of bedding a willing and vivacious Greek goddess. He watched him shrug his shoulders and smile Perhaps he too needed some time to collect his thoughts.

They pulled their horses to a slow walk and soon each fell deep in thoughtful concentration as the dust settled far in front of them.

The main ceremonies would take place two days from now to allow preparation of food and drink, gathering of flowers and assembling of entertainment and writing of speeches. It would also be a time for lovers and husbands and wives to reunite in their own private fashion, Mothers to attend to their sons and fathers to reunite with their families. Dardenos had none of these being single and presently unattached. Like Aeneas no doubt there was more than one beauty who would be willing to show him her gratitude by joining him in his bed but that occasion would wait. He couldn’t shake that look in Ilia’s eyes and wondered what it would take to have it vanish and be replaced by one of joy and acceptance. Until the thought of her left his mind he had no desire to whet his sexual appetite.

The trip had to have been to say the least, distressing for her, confined to the bowels of the ship away from her homeland, her people, being watched every waking moment. As soon as she reached the city it would be different she would be attended to by the best of Agammomnons maidservants bathed and perfumed and dressed in the finest clothes, and jewlery,offered the freshest of fruits, meats and drink. pampered in every way possible in preparation for the ceremony ahead.

Dardanoes too would be offered this convenience but he needed to sort out what he would say, what he would do when he accepted her as his prize. and what about afterwards, what then? Perhaps was not the time to think about that he told himself as they neared the city gates.

 

[crimsonpetal]

The journey to Argos was short. To Ilia, it did not compare to the lustrous glory of Troy but it was indeed an enviable city in its own right. The streets were crowded with smiling women with children at their sides, eager to meet their husbands and fathers. There was weeping too--tears for the soldiers who would not return. Ilia watched as a pretty young brunette learned that she was a widow. And despite the hardness in her heart for the Greeks, she pitied her.

The streets were strewn with rose petals, honeysuckle, and jasmine, scenting the air with their sweet perfume. The sun was setting against an orange-tinted sky and the breeze from off the ocean caressed Ilia's cheek like a long forgotten lover. Despite everything, it was good to feel the earth under her feet and to smell the fresh air after such an arduous journey on the sea.

Inside the palace, Dardanos was already swarmed with welcoming embraces, congragulations, and eager smiles. A throng of Greek women were drawn to him, like bees to a honey pot. Ilia could barely see him with the crowd that had assembled around him.

The next two days whirled past in a flurry of new faces and sensations. Surprisingly, Ilia slept well in the strange bed. She had not realized how exhausted she was and hoped that it would be a long long time before she ever had to see the inside of a ship.

The festivities would take place in the evening under the canopy of a starry sky. Ilia was bathed and dressed in expensive linens. Her dress was dyed lavendar and dyes were costly, she knew. Her red-gold hair was pinned back and swept up with tiny silver butterfly combs inlaid with amethysts. A few stray pieces of hair lay in soft curls against her neck, framing her face. They put a delicate necklace of tiny seashells carved out of mother-of-pearl around her throat and a matching bracelet on her left wrist. She smelled of jasmine mixed with sandalwood and looked enticingly lovely. If Hera had not been keeping such a close eye on her amorous husband, the king of gods and men would have been sorely tempted to snatch her away.

Ilia had a sudden last minute inspiration as the servants were gathering everyone together for the procession. She quietly snatched a gauzy black veil from a passing basket of laundry. She would wear it. She would remind them all in this happy little celebratory gathering that she was a daughter and a widow and a sister in mourning, that she was a Trojan woman.

Oh yes. She would make her silent statement. Publicly.

 

[slowandeasy]

Dardanos

Even with the sense of festivity around him and the lavish embraces from the women who wished to show their gratitude and praise him for his valor, Dardanos couldn’t shake a feeling of reflective melancholy that seemed to follow him like a dark cloud overhead. The first night he slept alone after a long bath and a hearty meal.

In the morning he had felt refreshed but still this cloud of doom hung over his head. It was when one of his servants shared with him the news that llias’ husband had died in battle, that he became again beleaguered with dark thoughts. would this news make her even more angry with the Greeks or would it mean that she no longer had to remain faithful. Whatever the case he knew that the transition to Greek life would be difficult for her.

Aenaes met him in the courtyard later that day and seeing his friends dark brow implored him to take part in an evening of drinking and carousing. “It will do you good to give in to the charms of one of the many who so willingly would give their bodies to you, my friend. Indulge yourself, you have no wife to answer to, you have no lover you have promised yourself to. Join us tonight in a bit of frivolity."

Dardanos finally consented after much persuasion and later in the night he brought a fair haired beauty to his bed in hopes that the image of the radiant green eyed llia would leave his mind. His heart wasn’t in it even though his body demanded consummation. Just as he was about to enter her, a soft knock interrupted them. Quickly rising he reached for his nearby sword and hearing his chamber guards voice, opened the door. ”Agamemnon is in grave danger and so are you.” he was told. “There is a plot to kill him and take away your “prize”, tomorrow after the ceremonies. With his brother still at sea and many of his followers absent they plan to take control.”

Dardanos thanked him for the information and dismissed him turning to the woman he dismissed her also having no desire to continue their love play.

Quickly he dressed and joined his warriors to make a plan to protect their leader, much later he returned to his bed and spent a restless night.
He was in no better mood in the morning as he bathed and prepared for the day, troubled by this new revelation. Aenaes was no help, bleary eyed from too much wine and song and willing women, he only added to Dardanos consternation. Things hadn’t changed much since he had left for war, where was this golden age that everyone was talking about. Would peace and harmony ever come and what could he do to help bring it about.

That evening as he took his place alongside of Agamemnon he pondered his future. “Would it include llia and in what manner would she belong to him. Time will tell." he was thinking as he saw the procession of slaves and concubines enter the arena. When llia took her place among those to be chosen all eyes turned to her expecting to see the radiant beauty of the Trojan princess daughter of King Priam that they had heard about. Instead they saw her shrouded in a black cloth of mourning and a hush fell over the crowd. Agamemnon's hand swept up into the air as if to tell someone to remove the cloth and reveal ‘his jewel’ but Dardanos stood up and cried out. “No! Let her have her sorrow! Bring her to me the way she is!”

 

[crimsonpetal]

Ilia

Ilia was stunned. She had expected punishment for her great insult. The last thing she had expected of her new lord was kindness or understanding and the fact that he offered both puzzled her. Perhaps there was honor in him. It was the one thought that had never occurred to her and for a moment she looked at him through the inky black gauze with uncertain respect. He had taken a risk himself in not admonishing her for her brazen behavior and she silently wondered why he would risk his reputation for a concubine.

She moved slowly and gracefully through the crowd toward him. He extended an arm toward her and she accepted it without pause. Ilia did not hear the rest of the speeches. Her eyes scanned the crowd for a glimpse of her mother, Hecuba, who was still alive, or rumored to be--yet Ilia did not see her.

As the ceremony ended and Dardanos led her back to the palace, Ilia was as silent as a ghost. He brought her to his rooms, skillfully decorated in marble and ivory. There was a plush bearskin rug by the hearth but there was no need for a fire tonight; the air was gently warm. There was a game board on a small wooden table nestled between two chairs and decorated with a small silver bowl of fresh fruit. Ilia recognized the adjoining room as the general's bedroom.

Dardanos turned to light some more candles and when he finished, Ilia was sitting by the table, looking at the Phaestos board game. He was surprised but pleased to notice that she had removed her veil. She was excessively pretty in the candlelight, her dress emphasizing the soft curves of her body.

She spoke her first words to him. "For what you said earlier, I thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied simply. "I don't wish to cause you anymore grief, Princess."

She believed that. For the first time, he saw her relax a little and decided to make the best of a situation where for once she had let her guard down.

"Would you like some wine?" he offered.

She nodded. She watched him pour the wine. He was ruggedly handsome and the realization that they were completely alone made her stomach do flip flops. She felt nervous and apprehensive but underneath that--there was something else.

"I used to play Phaestos with my father," she volunteered softly, sipping the red wine. It had a robust flavor that warmed her down to her toes.

"Are you good?" he queried, sitting across from her.

"I'm quite good," she answered, smiling for the first time since he had known her.

 

[slowandeasy]

Dardanos

“Then we will play.” Dardanos said softly. He was glad for the diversion as he had been apprehensive about this first private encounter with llia. He hadn’t decided as of yet just what position she would occupy in his personal household. Her lineage would mean that she should be considered more than a slave or maidservant. While it was true that he cared little for pretentiousness he realized her beauty and noble demeanor would be an asset also if she were placed in a position where she would be visible to his friends and enemies alike. He had no desire to seek a wife at this time and it would be a grave political mistake to make a Trojan woman his bride even if she was of Royal blood.

The obvious answer was to make her one of his concubines and even now as he watched the light from the flickering candles weave through her radiant hair setting it on fire, a flame ignited in his loins as well. It would be easy enough to cast aside the game pieces and pull her into the soft pillows that lay beneath them and have his way with her. What stopped him he couldn’t readily say, perhaps it was the same feeling that he had had when he demanded earlier that she remain shrouded. Even though she was very desirable and a vulnerable woman he found himself feeling respect and understanding.

“There is a matter of business that we must take care of first, Princess llia.” he added when he saw her smile in anticipation for the game to begin. He took her hand and pulled it gently away from the seven pawns of her color choice. She pulled back and her arms came around her chest as if to protect her self from the future that she imagined lay ahead of her.

“In what way does your business concern me.” Her eyes were bright with defiance.

“It is your business as well as mine.” Dardanos replied. As much as he would have wanted to wait until later to broach the subject he knew neither one of them would truly relax until it was said.

“From this day forward you belong to me, unless I deem it wise or prudent to give you your freedom. You will become part of my household as a ... concubine.” He found it hard to say the word even though it meant more than just slave or servant. “I will treat you with the respect and dignity that is owed you and protect you from those who would be tempted to take advantage of your position.” My house hold has becomes small and incomplete while I have been away and as there are those among you that have taken come from Troy to be slaves and servants, I would ask of you to confide in me as to your knowledge of them to assist me in making good choices. I have a list of names. Listen carefully and help me pick ten of the best.

As he began he watched carefully for her expression and listened as well for her approval.
When he came to Hecuba, who he knew to be her mother, he searched her face for signs of joy or a mask of indifference. Seeing only a slight glimmer of relief in her eye, that to most would go unnoticed and her soft nod of assent, he continued..

It was as he had hoped, she had passed one of many tests he would use to measure her value to him and help him make his decision. At the end of the list, ten names had been selected including that of Hecuba to become slaves and servants both male and female. “You will be in charge of these ten as they will be obedient to you. Fail me in this duty and you will become no more than just one of them.”

“As you wish, my Lord.” he heard her say in an even and subdued voice.

Then, let the game begin.” he pointed toward the game disks and the playing parts. "As you are my guest You may choose your color and throw the dice first. He looked in her eyes, feeling finally relaxed enough to enjoy the game of chance.

llia chose red and he picked green. She took the dice in her small hand and held them to her mouth blowing quickly on them. As she cast them down she smiled again and her eyes sparkled in merriment. Dardonos whistled in astonishment when he saw the large number she had thrown and then grinned mischievously when she landed on a place that required her to move half the distance back.

“Perhaps a wager is in order” He challenged.

“And what that might be.” she responded quickly.

“If I am the winner would you permit me to let down your hair?”

“Granted.” she quipped and what if I best you?

“Name it.” was his reply.

llia thought for a moment and then said almost wistfully pointing to a lyre, nearby. “ I have heard that you play quite well. If I win, play a song for me. It’s been too long since I have heard the joyful sound of music.

Dardanos could only nod, his tongue stuck in his throat at hearing her innocent and heartfelt request. He picked up the dice and threw them and then moved his pawn accordingly.

 

[crimsonpetal]

Ilia

As the dice sounded repeatedly against the gameboard and pawns were moved to defend their spaces, Ilia realized that she must not underestimate her opponent--either on the gameboard or off of it. He had made his intentions clear tonight of what her place would be and what he wanted of her. How fortunate that he was allowing her to see her mother! Surely, he knew who Hecuba was. Ilia's heart soared when she thought about the fact that soon she would see her mother again.

The game was mostly a game of chance yet there was some strategy involved as well. Ilia planned her moves with the calculating precision of a military strategist. Dardanos was amused watching her. Most times her face was calm and expressionless so that he could not read her. But every so often her forehead would furrow slightly and he could tell she was plotting some intricately conceived mutiny against his pawns.

"It looks like I've surrounded your stronghold, General," she joked, as 3 of her pieces assembled around one of his pawns.

Dardanos shook the dice.

"Ah...yes but...," he retorted, "you forget that a good general always brings reinforcements." He rolled doubles and was able to capture one of her pieces.

They continued to play and the night waned on. Dardanos forgot about plots to kill his king, political intrigue, rebels planning to steal his prize away. He was pleasantly absorbed in their little diversion. It perked up his spirits.

Finally Ilia admitted her defeat.

"The gods have looked upon you favorably tonight so I shall keep my promise and offer you your reward," she teased lightly, her hands moving to undo her hair.

"Hold a moment," Dardanos stopped her, "You did promise that I would have the luxury of doing that."

Ilia looked at him imperiously with those flashing green eyes but she dropped her hands.

"As you requested, my lord." Her words were respectful but her tone still held a small note of defiance, even as she aquiesced to his request.

Dardanos got up and moved behind her. His eyes brushed across the gentle curve of her neck and the soft ivory skin of her shoulders. He could see the outline of her breasts through the thin fabric of her dress. They were small but round and pert; he was imagining how they would feel against his palms.

His hands brushed against the nape of her neck and he felt her quiver against his touch. She then felt his hands in her hair, gently removing the clips and pins. She could feel the heat of his body against her back even though he was not pressed against her. Even so, his presence was palpable. Waves of red-gold hair spilled out over her shoulders. He inhaled the scent of her, a mix of jasmine and sandalwood. Images of her naked, her body glowing in the candlelight, flashed through his mind and created a stirring in his loins.

Ilia felt her pulse quicken. He was touching her innocently enough and yet, she thought, no one had ever touched her more sensually. She wondered how long it had been for him since he had been to bed with a woman. With his body, she mused, probably not that long. She wondered too what he expected of her. Did he think she was very experienced? And would he be able to tell that she wasn't?

His hands were in her hair now, caressing her scalp, smoothing the silky tresses. Ilia's cheeks were flushed. It must be from the wine, she thought as, for a brief moment, she closed her eyes.

 

[slowandeasy]

Dardanos

His hands seemed to be moving of their own accord. Even if he wished to remove them from her hair, he knew he would be unable to. The simple act of letting down Ilia’s hair had become an act of intense sensuous pleasure. The light from the candles ignited in her tresses and spread to his fingers, his hands and throughout his body, setting him on fire as well. His eyes continued to devour her beauty beneath the gossamer gown.
“Truly a jewel.” he thought. a jewel to be enjoyed in every way. To be viewed in all it’s intricacy its many facets, her emerald green eyes, noble and proud yet hinting of a passion he would only know by exploring their depths. Her hair, ruby red blended with gold, needing more than just his hands to search its depths. Her ivory skin unblemished by age promising smoothness and softness soon to be discovered with his tender touch. Each breath she took intensified her overpowering scent, while causing her breasts to rise and fall half hidden like two soft doves beneath her gown, their coral peaks pressing out and up, begging to be stroked.

Dardanos unable to contain his ardor let out a soft moan and seeing her eyes closed in sweet surrender and her coral lips half opened in anticipation bent to kiss her, to fuel the fire burning within them both.

“Who goes there!” the sound of guards voice outside of the doorway, a scurry of footsteps and a clashing of swords brought the anticipated kiss to a halt. Dardanos scooped Ilia up and carried her into the adjoining bedchamber. Setting her down he put his finger to her lips to quiet her. “Don’t be afraid it’s safe in here. Bar the door behind me and wait for my return.”

He closed the door to the dark windowless bedchamber and took up his sword and shield. After extinguishing the candles, He stepped cautiously into the passageway. His guard was waiting for him with a drawn and bloodied sword.

I’m afraid there’s trouble afoot." the young man told him. "I caught this one sneaking about.” He pointed to a warrior cowering at his feet, holding his bleeding right arm.

“Who sent you and what are your intentions.” Dardanos demanded drawing his sword and pressing it against the mans chest.

“ There are those among you who would wish to overthrow Agamemnon and they sent me to make sure you would not interfere.”

“Name Them!” Dardanos spit out the words even as he pressed his sword harder into the mans chest.”

“Have mercy! he pleaded, but if you can’t, kill me now, for if I tell you they will kill me. It would be more admirable to die by your sword.”

Another guard appeared and Dardanos commanded him to lock the man up. “we’ll deal with him later he added.'

“What do you know of this uprising?" He asked the first guard when they were gone.

"Aeneas asked me not to tell you." He said you had more important matters to atttend to tonight, that he could handle the situation without you.' The guard seemed almost apologetic knowing how Dardanos was committed to Agamomnon.

And where is Agamomnon now he asked has he been spirited away to safety?

"Yes, into the hills along with Aeneas and a handfull of his best warriors.”

“Prepare my horse ready. I will return shortly.”

Dardanos turned and entered his rooms. Lighting one small candle he knocked softly on the bedchamber door Ilia it is I, Dardanos.”

He saw her smile in relief as she opened the door a crack and then throw the door open wide for him. As he entered the room he set the candle down and took both her hands in his. “The danger has passed but you must stay here. It is what was expected anyway.” He smiled at the irony of the situation even though his thoughts were elsewhere. Not waiting for her questions, not knowing her wishes or even his own true feelings he told her quickly of the events that had just taken place and his need to be with Agamomnon at this time.

“In the morning, he continued. my guard will come for you and bring you back to your rooms. You will say nothing of this nights events. Your mother has been brought to your quarters and the two of you must organize the household slaves and servants. I will return sometime tomorrow.” He squeezed her hands to reassure her and added that an afternoon in the country, just the two of them would please him, if she would arrange to have some food and wine ready, perhaps he would bring his Lyre. somehow he felt they would be safer in the country than in the palace. He released her hands fighting off the temptation to pull her into his arms.

He took one last glimpse at his 'Jewel' before he quickly closed the door and left.

 

[crimsonpetal]

Ilia

Ilia watched Dardanos walk out, her eyes following his steps and lingering on his tall form. Just a few minutes before her heart had been racing while his warm, deft fingers had slipped softly through her hair. There was a tangible electricity between the two of them. His lips had been close enough that she could feel his breath on her mouth and had they not been interrupted, she was certain that he would have kissed her. And even more certain that she would have responded.

"Shame on you, Ilia," she silently chastised herself, "Your husband is barely in the ground and you are thinking of another--and that one is a Greek!"

It was the wine and the atmosphere, she convinced herself. Next time, she decided, resolutely, I will not give in so easily.

Ilia spent a sleepless night in the general's bed. She felt uneasy with a rebellion on the rise and wondered if she was entirely safe. Mostly, her thoughts turned to her mother's safety. "These men and their battles," she thought angrily, "Aren't they tired yet of war and death? I've more than had my fill."

Sleep finally claimed her but she dozed lightly. She woke up again for the fourth time and was certain she had heard a footstep. It must be the middle of the night, she thought. She heard another step. Her heart was hammering so loudly in her chest now that she was certain the intruder must hear it. Her eyes were adjusted enough to the darkness that she could see a shape at the foot of the bed.

Ilia gasped and jumped reflexively, drawing her arms around her knees. She was afraid to run and afraid to stay still but her fear made the choice for her and she was paralyzed to the spot.

"Well, well," came a deep male voice, "I set my trap for a general and I caught a little dove instead." In the same instant, the figure moved forward and trapped her arms. Ilia screamed.

A hand was clamped over her mouth and she felt the unmistakable tip of a dagger at the base of her throat.

"Shhhhh, pretty one," he intoned menacingly, "I won't hurt you--much." He laughed and she could smell liquor on his breath. "Light a candle," he instructed, pressing the dagger more sharply against her throat. "Try anything and you'll regret it."

Ilia's hands were trembling so much that it took her a few tries to get a candle lit but she managed. The stranger's hand was working its way up her thigh.

"You must be very clever," Ilia said, "to have managed to slip by the guards." She prayed that if she kept him talking for a little bit that she might be able to stall him and come up with some strategy to get away.

The man was leering at her breasts. He nodded proudly, not bothering to shift his gaze. "It's amazing what a little laudanum can do in a person's drink," he smirked, "The guards are sound asleep."

"You're a pretty little thing," he slurred. "You're that Trojan princess. Agamemmnon wasn't very nice to give you all to Dardanos. Stingy general not to share. The rest of us would have liked to get a piece. We fought too." He pressed against her and Ilia felt his knee jabbing between her knees in an attempt to push her legs apart. He was hurting her.

Ilia's mind was reeling. So this man was a Greek soldier and an assassin. He had meant to come that night to kill Dardanos but instead he'd found her.

He ripped the top of her dress and began mauling an exposed breast. Ilia panicked and began to struggle underneath him. She kneed him in the groin and heard him groan in pain.

"Bitch!" he rounded on her, slapping her across the face. She could taste blood on the side of her mouth. The dagger was on the pillow now. In his anger he had let it go. Ilia grabbed it as he reared back to strike her again.

The blow never came.

Ilia had thrust the dagger into his heart in one clean stroke.

She had killed a Greek. A Greek! Would anyone believe that he'd tried to rape her? That he was an assassin? Surely Dardanos would believe her. He must. Doubts began creeping across her mind. Of course, she was little more than a slave and a woman.

Ilia crept back to her room and changed her dress as quickly as possible. She left the ripped, bloodstained garment on the floor. She wasn't going to wait around to see what they did to murdering slaves.

She told only Hecuba that she was going to flee.

"It's madness, Ilia. Surely the general will understand that it was an accident and in self defense. in a way you did them a favor!"

Her mother's pleas fell on deaf ears. Ilia was in a blind panic

She had no idea where she was going as she stepped out into the night.

 

[slowandeasy]

Dardanos paced back and forth at the mouth of the cave where Agamemnon and his attendants had been safely hidden. It was a perfect hideaway he thought, a small grove of olive trees protected its entrance and several out croppings of rocks near it provided places where his guards could watch without being seen. Still he was nervous, he would have been more comfortable in the heat of battle, knowing his enemy and where they would be coming from. Who were these people, plotting to kill the king? Where did this threat originate? Surely it was more than just a few disgruntled slaves, or farmers and tradesmen dissatisfied with their lot. Agamemnon was a good king. He had proven time and time again that though he ruled with an iron hand he gave his respect to his people as well as his gods. Dardanos had no idea but perhaps in the next few days his enemies would be revealed. In the meantime the king would remain here. The people would be told he was at one of his country estates contemplating the future of Greece now that the war was over. No one would know of his true whereabouts until his enemies had been routed out. It was decided that the city and the palace was not a safe place for him. With the celebrations continuing too many strangers from the countryside were milling in the streets, too many strangers to keep track of.

It was almost dawn the waning moon gave a surrealistic look to the landscape. Off in the distance the city of Argos lay. Dardanos knew he had to go now or remain in the cave the rest of the day and leave at nightfall. He didn’t want to leave his king even though he felt he would be safe. As soon as the sun rose the guards would disguise themselves as goat herders and keep watch over the cave. Only by night would they come and go bring to and from the city news and supplies. Aeneas had assured him of that.

“Go, my friend he said, “It was a shame that you were interrupted at such an inopportune time last night. Go and finish what you had started..”

Reluctantly Dardanos mounted his horse and headed for the city. pondering Aeneas’ final words. Perhaps it was meant to be. he thought, That the interruption may have been a sign. A sign that he must not let his emotions rule over his sense of logic. He realized what had happened. Long after he had left her the vision of her beauty remained with him. He could still see her green eyes, feel her silky hair between his fingers, smell the scent of her woman's warmth, and know the arousal all of this created within him. It was not good for him to be so totally captivated by any woman much less a Trojan Princess. He must remember to treat her with respect yet keep his distance when they met again. She would be a valuable asset to his household and a pleasant companion when they had occasion to be alone together but he must control his emotions.

Easier said than done he muttered as he neared the city gates and once again was stirred by the thought of seeing her again. He would take care of the mornings business, pass on the latest information and give instructions to his men before getting his bath and preparing for a quiet afternoon in the country.

His heart rose to his throat and he gasped in horror when he saw the bloodstained dress. He fell to his knees and clutched it to his chest unable to speak.

“I’m sorry my Lord, we found this dress along with the body of a man in your bedchamber this morning when we went to get Ilia for her bath.” The slave who had brought him the dress said.

Still unable to speak , Dardanos listened as the slave continued. There was a dagger in his chest, she must have killed him, the guards had been drugged, sometime in the night, no one knows who he is or where he came from or why he would do such a thing perhaps he tried to rape her, there are those who are jealous of you for having her perhaps they came to steal her, to take your prize.”

Dardanos found his voice. "But no one knew I was gone! he was after me! and because I left she is dead!

“No! she is not dead my lord.”

Then bring her to me!

I’m sorry my Lord she is gone.

Gone? Where? When?

Four hours ago, Someone saw her take a horse and head south into the hills overlooking the ocean.

Get some food, blankets, water. Hurry! Prepare my horse.

Shall someone go with you my Lord?

No! I will go alone.

 

[crimsonpetal]

Ilia

"My Lord," Hecuba approached the general as he was about ready to leave, "I entreat you to be merciful to Ilia. She did not run away out of disobedience--but fear, poor child. The man--in the bedchamber--would have ravished her and it appears his true intention was to kill you in the night. Ilia said his accent was Greek, that he professed to be a solider, and that he drugged your guards." Dardanos noted that she had the same emerald, fire-speckled eyes as her daughter. Hecuba's hair was dark auburn but now streaked with gray. She had the face of one who has seen too much hardship and yet there was still evidence of what must have been an extraordinary beauty in her youth.

Hecuba bowed.

"I hope this information is helpful to you."

Ilia thanked the gods that the moon was bright tonight. She had been travelling for what felt like many hours and her horse was tired. So was she. She had not had much time to prepare for her journey so her provisions were few: a loaf of bread, a jug of water, a bowl, an apple, and a bow and quiver. Ilia was an excellent shot. To the disapproval of her mother and the amusement of her father, Hector had taught his sister how to shoot. Many a summer the pair would creep into the pantry and steal fruit for target practice to the chagrin of the palace cook.

The sound of the surf echoed invitingly in the distance and Ilia knew she had reached the seashore. She spurred her horse to go faster until they reached the soft white sand and silvery waters. She dismounted and gave the horse some water, gently stroking his neck.

"I should go back," she thought to herself. "I'm not sure where I am. I have nowhere to go. Perhaps if I explain..." Her thoughts flashed to those moments in the bedchamber. A hand on her mouth. The weight of the man on top of her. The sharp pointed steel aimed at her throat. Ilia shivered. She wanted to be home in Troy, safe. She should be there at this moment, curled up by the fire, weaving, while her father entertained guests. Her eyes flooded with tears but she stopped them--mostly out of fear that if she started to cry that she would not be able to stop.

There were red marks on her wrists from how the stranger had pinioned her and a scratch on her neck from his dagger. A bruise had already formed on her cheek in the place where he had hit her. Other than that she was unharmed. Nothing on the outside anyway that wouldn't disappear after a couple of days.

She wanted to bathe in the cool water. Perhaps it would erase some of her shame and help clear her head so she could figure out what to do next. Like a doe about to leave the safety of the wood for an open meadow, Ilia looked around cautiously for any sign that she wasn't alone.

Feeling relatively secure, Ilia slipped off her garments and stepped into the water. Soon her naked body was drenched in moonlight and sea foam, like Aphrodite rising out of the sea.

"When daylight comes," she thought, bending over and splashing water over her creamy legs and thighs, I'll return. I shall explain to Dardanos what happened and hope that he will pardon me."

The sound of a nearby horse's hooves on the sand was drowned out by the sounds of the surf. She didn't hear a thing.

 

[slowandeasy]

Heading south from the city Dardanos soon picked up the tracks of a lone horse. He was sure it was the one llia had taken as the evening rain had washed the ground clean of any previous hoof prints. The bright moonlight made it easy for him to follow and as he moved further from the city he became more hopeful that llia would be safe from anyone who would discover her and do her harm.

He thought again of her mother, Hecuba, her strength and character. The pride and love that had shown in her eyes when she spoke to him about her daughter. She would be a welcome addition to his household as well, he would speak to her about her position when he returned with llia.

He smiled to himself confident now that he would soon find her. True she was four hours ahead of him and a lot could happen in four hours. He knew the country well and could make much better time than she. The only course she could take was near the ocean the terrain inland was much too rough and steep to traverse by horse. Urging his horse to a gallop he followed that course ignoring the tracks as he sped into the night.

He knew that she would press on further into the country unless she decided to change her mind and return to the city . That of course would be a grave mistake. He must find her first. The countryside had changed as the valley she had headed into moved again toward the ocean. Surely she would stop to rest her horse before daybreak and when she did he would bridge the gap between them. As he neared the ocean he looked hoof prints again to determine if she went left or right. He found a few scattered ones but the wind had kicked up the sand wiping out all sign of her direction His hopefulness turned to despair as he backtracked again and again to make sure he was not heading in the wrong direction. He stopped and dismounted turning to the sea and the gods for direction.

The only sound in answer to his plea for guidance was the pounding of the surf.

Maybe he should wait till daybreak to continue. The last tracks he had seen indicated that her horse was tiring or she was holding it back. Maybe she was just a few leagues away. It was only an hour or two till sunup, he could wait here and rest his horse he had ridden him hard and was sure he was less that an hour behind her. It had been a long night.

He hobbled his horse with a short piece of leather and setting his blanket on the sand lay down and fell asleep. His dreams were fitful as he slept. visions of Aphrodite aboard a giant seashell coming to shore haunted him as her cface and body appeared to be that of Princess llia as he remembered her in his chambers when he had let down her hair.

--------------------------------------------------


The sound of hooves that llia did not hear were not of horses but a dozen or so goats that were feeding on the edge of the hillside not far from where she was bathing. Nor did she hear the tinkling of a bells tied around some of the grazers necks.

Not far behind them as they headed for a small spring that sprang from the ground near the ocean Machaon supported by a cane hobbled into view. Grumbling good naturedly about the fact that his flock chose to graze so early in the morning, he peered through the early morning haze watching the ocean for any impending danger to his flock. What he saw silhouetted in the glow of moonlight made him fall to his knees and exclaim. “By the gods! it’s Aphrodite herself, what would the goddess of love want of me an old crippled up Greek surgeon.”

Another look as she walked toward the shore told him she was instead a mortal human form and.... that of.. “Could it be.... Hecuda.....of course not she would be as old and gray as he”

He thought back of another time, another place, when he was surgeon in an earlier war with Troy when as the chief surgeon he had met the wife of King Priam So many years ago he mussed and yet it seemed like yesterday now that this vision appeared before him.

Hecuba had a daughter he had heard, much like her. But how? And why would she be here in Greece? The war was over, that much he’d learned even though self exiled he paid little attention to the gossip of the few travelers who passed his way.

He bowed in humble respect oblivious of her nakedness and when she saw him, this long bearded wrinkled old man prostrate before her on the sand, she fainted dead away.

Rushing into the water, he took her into his arms and carried her to a small copse of woods near the spring. Covering her discretely with a goatskin blanket he turned and in the spring he cupped his hands and carrying the cold water to her he splashed it liberally in her face.

 

[crimsonpetal]

Ilia

Ilia spluttered, blinking her eyes repeatedly against the generous onslaught of water. She sat up reflexively. As her vision cleared, there was the peculiar man she had spotted watching her in the water.

"You're all right now, young miss?" he inquired kindly.

Ilia wiped her face with a corner of the blanket and nodded. Her circumstances seemed so surreal to her at that moment that she thought she must be dreaming. Whoever the man was, he didn't seem intent on doing her any harm. He was older, graying, with big brown eyes and dimples when he smiled.

Droplets of water rolled down Ilia's neck. She brought her hands to her hair to shake the water out and only then realized that, besides the blanket covering her, she was completely naked. She blushed profusely.

"Thank you for your help," Ilia offered awkwardly. "You startled me earlier. I don't usually faint like that. It's been a very difficult night, however." She paused. "I'm Ilia."

"Priiam's daughter?" Machaon asked.

Ilia couldn't hide her surprise. "Why yes--but how did you know that?"

"I'm Machaon. I was a medic with the Greek army years ago. I met your mother and father at a political meeting as we were trying to negotiate peace. You are the image of your mother."

Ilia smiled softly. "Do you know where my dress is, Machaon?"

Machaon handed her the garment and turned around. "While you dress, tell me how you ended up in Greece. I'm a bit of a hermit and don't catch all the news."

Ilia told him how the war ended with the burning of Troy. She wept quietly when she spoke of Priam's death and the death of her brother, Hector.

"My mother and I are servants in the house of Dardanos," she finished. There was a touch of resentment in her tone.

"Did you run away?"

Ilia was not certain how to answer that question. She did not want to put the man in any danger so she thought it best to tell him as little as possible.

"I got lost," she said simply.

Machaon was no fool. He leaned toward her slowly and grazed her cheek with his fingertips. "Did the general give you this?" He indicated the bruise. His voice was full of paternal concern.

Ilia shook her head. "No. He's been good to us. It was....someone else."

"All right, mistress Ilia, I will not pry any further."

"I should go back. Perhaps you could point me in the right direction and I--"

"You're in no shape to travel at the moment. You need rest and something to eat. I can take you back in the daytime. It's foolish for a woman to be travelling alone."

Ilia was about to protest again but when she saw the look of determination on his face, she relented.

"My cottage is just up over the hill. Help me with the goats." He watched her. Something had definitely frightened her tonight.

Machaon sang a sprightly little ditty about the affairs and escapades of Zeus as they walked. As the sun displayed his deep orange mantle over the horizon, Ilia's spirits also lightened.

 

[slowandeasy]

“ Be careful, he may only be pretending to sleep”. One of two men whispered. They approached cautiously knowing that if Dardanos were indeed awake he would either spring to his horse and escape or stand and face them. They wished for neither of these two events to take place. Dardanos was known to face two or more opponents on numerous occasions before and defeat them as well. Their only hope was that they could sneak up on him without his knowledge and capture him removing his broadsword that he clutched tightly in his hand even as he slept. One of them held a stout rope and the other brandished a dagger.

They had followed him here from the city seeing him leave in haste in the same direction as the Princess llia when they saw her leave earlier.

It was then that one had anxiously urged the other to catch up to her and claim the prize that Agamemnon had awarded to Dardanos. “No!” the other had cautioned ‘Our their job watch for Dardanos’ return and wait for him to lead us to the kings hiding place. The girl won’t go far we’ll deal with her later. Dardanos will be prize enough for tonight.”

Reluctantly his companion had agreed and when Dardanos was seen entering the city in haste and then just as quickly had left they had followed. They had been pleasantly surprised when Dardanos headed in the same direction as the girl.. “What luck! Now they could get two birds with one stone”

Luck was not with them however. Even though they had the advantage when they discovered Dardanos’ horse tethered at the edge of the beach and his silent form lying on his blanket near the waters edge, the situation changed when one of them stepped on a small twig, as they moved from the shadows into the moonlight.

The snapping of the twig woke Dardanos who remained still and watched them approach. By their demeanor he realized their intent to do him harm. His sword in hand he waited. The man with the rope circled around back. Dardanos concentrated his attention on the man with the dagger and when he was close enough made his move. He rose to a kneeling position. His sword flashed in the moonlight. The man staggered and fell. His face contorting in surprise and pain and then went ghastly white. His hands clutched his chest where his blood spurted out.

Dardaons whirled and saw the second assailant intending to ensnare him with the rope. Another slash and he too fell silently to the ground. Dardanos was catching his balance when he heard a sound behind him. He lunged forward as he felt the first man against his back and the sharp point of a dagger entering his body just below his ribs from behind.

The pain receded as Dardanos discovered one lifeless body below him, the other one on top of him, lifeless also. He lay there for a short while covered with blood, more of his assailants than his own. His wound was low and not life threatening. He grimaced as he reached behind to remove the knife. Unable to reach it, he rose and staggered to his horse. Releasing it from its tether, he attempted to mount only to find his bloodstained garment impeding him. Casting it from his body he tried again, this time he was successful. Naked, he slumped forward and grasped the reins. It was a long way to the city but with his bloodstained sword in his other hand he urged his horse forward.

The sound of tinkling bells caught his attention, somewhere toward the morning sun. In his pain wracked mind he thought of grazing goats and muttered. “Where there was goats there was a goat herder.” He turned in that direction.

 

[crimsonpetal]

Ilia

Machaon's cottage very closely resembled its owner: rustic, simple, and looking as if it had survived many storms. Inside, the north wall looked to the observer like an untamed, sprawling jungle of greenery with rows of plants in clay pots. But Machaon could name every plant and flower there. Gardening had become his hobby. As a medic he had always been fascinated by the study of the medicinal properties of herbs and now he finally had the time and the means to indulge his curiosity.

Ilia found the tinkling bells outside the goatherd's cottage strangely comforting and she was close enough still to the beach that that she could hear the faint sound of the tide doing its own grazing on the smooth white sand.

"Thank you," Ilia said, as Machaon placed a mug of water on the table for her and a plate of food. The plate contained grape leaves with yogurt and wheat meal and some goat cheese. He also gave her a small bowl of sliced kiwi, lightly drizzled with honey.

Machaon watched as Ilia ate. She was hungrier than she had realized.

"Come outside and have some wild cherries," Machaon called from outside the door. He shared a basket of cherries with her and made a competition of who could spit the pits the farthest.

"That was good, Ilia," but you really need to get your shoulders involved to extend the range." Machaon demonstrated.

Ilia giggled. She was about to say something when she noticed a horse and rider coming toward them from a distance.

Machaon could tell immediately from the way that the rider was leaning against the horse that there was something wrong.

"Dardanos!" Ilia said softly as the figure came in view. "And he's wounded."

"So this is your general?" queried Machaon, helping Dardanos from his horse. Loss of blood had already made him slightly weak.
"Best get him inside."

They laid him on his stomach on Machaon's bed. The goat herder very quickly and unceremoniously removed the dagger from Dardanos' back.

The general gritted his teeth. He looked at Ilia.

"You're all right?"

"Yes," she responded. "All in one piece. Although not sure I can say the same for you."

"It's minor," he answered, flinching slightly as the goatherd cleaned the wound.

"I didn't run away on purpose," Ilia offered, "I was attacked--"

"I know, Ilia."

"So...you're not going to kill me in some ancient Greek ritualistic sacrifice for my disobedience?" she quipped.

Dardanos almost smiled. She hadn't lost her sense of humor. In a way, it amazed him. Perhaps it was why she had such emotional strength.

"I'm still deciding." His eyes began to close.

With fresh water, Ilia cleaned the blood from his back. She had to cut his tunic to remove the bloodstained cloth. She worked quietly and carefully, as not to wake him up. She covered him gently with fresh linens.

"Had your fill of gazing at the general?" Machaon asked her when she emerged from the room.

"I do not 'gaze' at General Dardanos," Ilia answered crankily.

Machaon shook his head and chuckled.

 

[slowandeasy]

Machaon shook his head and chuckled, he had sensed upon Dardanos arrival that these two had more in common than an arrangement that had been made by his old friend Agamemnon. And they were the perfect match as far as he was concerned. She was the kind of woman who would not only contribute to and compliment his household. and he was the kind of man who would treat her like the princess that she was. she would prifit much by commiting her allegence and devoting her self to him. Above all else Machaon had seen the sparks fly and where there was sparks there was fire.

He thought again of her mother Hecuda and his heart went out to her knowing that she like Ilia had been torn for her homeland and her husband. It was true that Hecuda was King Pram's second wife and that he had taken others after she had given birth to Ilia. Perhaps because she did not give him a son he had found disfavor with her. Her behavior when Machaon had met her in Troy had told him little about her relationship to her husband as she seemed to be one of his most devoted wives. So he had kept his distance even though he had felt a yearning every time she came into sight. But then so did many men she was a jewel that was much coveted. When he left Troy he tried to forget her but from time to time a picture of her, laughing lightly, tossing her auburn hair her green eyes sparkling, as she moved gracefully about the palace.

All that was different now, King Priam was dead as was Ilia’s husband. Both women were far from home. He was amazed to see that in spite of her situation Ilia was cheerful and sharp witted. He wondered if Hecuba was also. He would have to visit her the next time he went into Argos. Perhaps she would welcome the shoulder of an old friend.

His musing was interrupted by dust flying in the air and Ilia for lack of some productive activity had decided that his cottage needed cleaning. He chuckled again, realizing that the events of the last few days no doubt had tossed her around like a cork in a storm of emotions. Her way of dealing with the feeling was to clean house and his cottage was long over due so he said nothing as she went about the task of rearranging everything in sight. Maybe it was time for him to find something productive to do. Somehow he managed to stop Ilia's industrious activity long enough to tell her his plans.
--------------------------------------------------
Dardanos slept till midday only to be awakened by the soft rustle of cloth and the aroma of a fermented fruit drink that Ilia brought into the room. “Sit up sleepy head.” she said pleasantly having resolved her anger with the gods of fate. ‘Machaon gave me strict orders to make you drink this before you try to get up.”

“Where is the old goat...herder?” he said amicably.” As he sat up and took a warm mug of mulled wine from her..

“He left for Argos an hour ago.” He said to tell you that it would be well for you to stay put for a while considering the attempt on your life. He’d be your eyes and ears and maybe save your neck.

She watched him as he held the mug in both his hands his face lighting up as he enjoyed the sensation of warmth of the clay and the scent of the aromatic mixture that rose from it. He seemed to be savoring every element as he lifted it to his mouth and swirled it, his chest expanding as he took a deep breath inhaling it’s rich flavor. Finally he took a sip just enough to wet his palate and then with great gusto quenched his thirst.

“My, but you are a thirsty one aren't you? care for another.”

Feeling the effects of the warm wine Dardanos shook head. "I’m afraid if I have one more I won’t be able to get up."

He gave the empty cup back to her and looked up to where she was kneeling by his side. “Help me up please.” She took his hand and helped him to stand. Remembering that he was naked she looked away and blushed. Noticing her discomfort Dardanos reached down for his tunic.

“No! she said suddenly, seeing it was covered with drying blood and dirt. She pulled it from his grasp and tossed it back on the ground. She looked around for something suitable for him to wear “Does that old Goat herder have only one tunic to his name.” She muttered under her breath. The blanket she had covered him with was little better "And only one sleeping place! What does he do when he has guests?” She was gathering up every piece of material she could find. “Everything’s dirty! She looked towards the sea and before Dardanos could utter a word she was taking long purposeful strides towards the water.

Dardanos shrugged his shoulders and followed unmindful of his nakedness, caught up in her concern.

The sea was a blue green mirror , the tide had gone out and the beach a flurry of activity as seagulls fought over shells and small fish that had been stranded on the shore. Ilia waded ankle deep into the water and threw down her bundle. Bending over she began to scrub, taking handfuls of sand and using it along with the salt water to remove the blood and dirt. Dardanos waded to her side and stooped to do the same. After she squeezed the water from each article of cloth she piled them in his outstretched arms. She followed as he carried them ashore and hung them on some pieces of driftwood nearby. They looked back at the ocean Ilia’s gown was soaked with water she may as well have been naked as it hid none of her body from view. Smiling coyly, she stripped it from her and ran towards the water. Dardanos watched her for only a brief moment and then followed, forgetting completely about his wound or the traumatic events of the night before.

The mirrored surface was soon broken by two bodies cavorting like porpoises diving and surfacing, appearing and disappearing into the shimmering depths. A game of tag spontaneously developed as they took turns capturing and then releasing each other, their nakedness ignored, their inhibitions disappearing inot the depths. Feeling only the pure joy of physical contact and the anticipation of its return, thye played like two carefree children. Breathless they surfaced along side of each other in waist deep water. Dardanos swept a wet lock of copper hair from her eyes. ‘You’re beautiful Ilia.” he said softly as he gazed into her eyes.

“As you are too, Dardanos.”, She cupped his face in her small hand and smiled warmly.

 

[crimsonpetal]

Ilia

Dardanos swept a wet lock of copper hair from her eyes. ‘You’re beautiful Ilia.” he said softly as he gazed into her eyes.

“As you are too, Dardanos.”, She cupped his face in her small hand and smiled warmly. "For a Greek," she added impishly. Ilia had meant it in a teasing, bantering way but she saw him stiffen after her comment. Unintentionally, she had reminded both him and herself of whom they were. The spell of childlike innocence was broken.

"The sun is getting strong," Ilia said softly as she shaded her eyes with her hand. "I'll finish washing these things so we have some semblance of cleanliness if we are going to be spending the night here. You should rest, my lord."

"I'll take care of the horses and get some water for us," he offered, retreating toward the stream.

Ilia spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning and washing with a meditative intensity. She kept thinking about their whimsical frolic on the beach. She was haunted by the taut angles of his body, his engaging eyes, and that boyish smile. She remembered the way he had been looking at her and then the disappointment and--hurt--that she had glimpsed when she had inadvertently put her proverbial foot in her proverbial mouth. Had it been hurt? If so, that would mean that he must care for her.

I'm just some little pleasurable trinket-gift for him to play with, she thought to herself. And yet, if that were true, why hadn't he taken her to bed yet? He had had opportunity. Could he be waiting for her to develop feelings for him? Ilia was nagged by doubts. Why were things so complicated when it came to him? When her thoughts turned to her family, her city, and her people she knew that she should detest this man. But she didn't. She liked him. And it terrified her. He wasn't supposed to be kind and understanding. He was the enemy, wasn't he? Ilia thought of her father and her heart was laden with guilt.

Through Ilia's dilligent efforts, the goatherder's cottage had never been so clean. There was a soft scent of citrus and ocean-breeze in the air.

"Things may still be ragged and worn, Ilia said as she prepared the bed with clean but tattered linen, "but at least it's clean."

"Much improved," Dardanos agreed, "Although Machaon will probably charge you for stealing his dirt."

Ilia lit some candles and the room was filled with warm light.

"All right general," she said lightly, "On your stomach. I should have a look at that wound."

There was a rustle of cloth and he lay down on the bed. He was naked again. Ilia flushed but not from embarrassment. Her own body responded to the very sensual stimulus laid out before her. She flushed from head to toe. Her lips reddened. Her nipples pushed brazenly against the flimsy fabric of her dress. She had seen naked men before but none produced a response like this. She craved him.

"It's looking better," Ilia said. Under different circumstances Dardanos probably would have chuckled. He knew she was innocently unaware of the double entendre she had just stated. She applied an herbal antiseptic to keep the area clean. He was healing nicely.

Ilia treated her patient to a massage. Dipping her hands in oil, she kneaded his neck and shoulders and upper back. His skin glowed like gold in the candlelight. Her slender fingertips and soft palms made rhythmic circles across his skin. He groaned.
Dardanos was reluctant to let the drowsiness overwhelm him but it had been an active day and he was still recovering.

"You're sleeping here." he muttered before drifting off.

Ilia slipped into bed next to him. She couldn't sleep. Her troubled mind was still going over the events of the day.

Dardanos was having a strange dream....

He was in the burning city. Among the foggy ashes he could see the immoble figure of Priam at his feet. His ears were surrounded by the sounds of children crying for their mothers and wives calling for their husbands. There was blood on his hands. Hecuba was there crying softly, her noble face etched with sorrow. She was pleading with Agammemnon to bury her husband.

Dardanos turned at the sound of running footsteps. There was a child, no more than 8, who came running to Priam. She had red-gold hair and cherub cheeks. She flung herself at the body of her father.

"Papa!" She sobbed. She looked up helplessly at Dardanos. Her eyes were green. Vivid. The eyes of a woman. Ilia's eyes.

"Help us," she begged.

Dardanos shot up in bed as if he'd been scorched. He was sweating. His breaths were shallow.

The woman beside him stirred. "Are you all right? "Ilia asked.

 

[slowandeasy]

For a long while Dardanos could not speak, his dream remaining vivid in his mind. He became further confused when he thought about it again. Was it just a recollection of the hideous events that had taken place during the war or was it a warning that if nations didn’t come together in peace that there would be further devastation, further grief and suffering? And if that were so what could he do, one general, one man, to prevent it? He felt the responsibility in part for what had happened and he felt the need for atonement, by doing what he could to ensure that Ilia and her mother were safe and free. What more could he do? What kind of help was she looking for, if indeed the green eyed child in his dreams represented her? Would she always be in peril if he required her to stay with him? Was she little more than a slave when she was in his house, a slave to the fear that because they were together there were those who would seek to harm her? Maybe she could only be free if she returned to Troy.

Dardanos knew he had to make a decision, as much as he wanted her, as much as his body longed for hers, as much as his mind wanted to love her, he had no right make this happen, he owed her at least the right to choose, to decide for herself.

Dardanos was used to making decisions, as a general he had to make life and death decisions but he was at loss to make this one. Perhaps it is better to let sleeping dogs lie he told himself. He knew that in the morning there would be goats to be tended to perhaps one or two that needed milking. It had been a long time since he had milked a goat but if Machaon had gone to Athos to be his eyes and ears Dardanos could be Machaons hands and feet to protect his flock while he was gone.

But before that, he had Ilia’s needs to tend to. He had felt in the touch of her hands and the look of longing in her eyes last night just before she so aptly massaged him into sleep. He was sure that she would willingly give her body to him if she thought of him as a man who could love her and not as a Greek general.

He would say nothing about the dream to her. He would prove to her that he was just a man and she was just a woman and they had much to share. That this night and the next day they would be alone together to leave the past behind, set aside the future and enjoy the many feelings that they both knew were inside of them longing to be set free.

He turned to her, pulling back the blanket, watching the light from one last flickering candle set her hair on fire, splash across her ivory skin, and making the shadows disappear into the corners of the room. She rose on one elbow naked as he was, her breasts rising and falling as she waited for his response.

“I’m all right now.” he said softly. “And so are you.” He gathered her in his arms and held her feeling every inch of her warm body against his. One hand threaded its way through her hair and pulled her face into his shoulder, the other encircled her waist.. Together they began a rocking motion their arms encircling each other, their hearts beating as one.

No longer able to hold back the darkness the last candle sputtered and went out. The silence of the night enveloped them.

The next sound they heard was the tinkling of bells as the goats began their early morning feeding.