Gears of Troy: A Scifi Fantasy Harem

by Daniel Pierce

  “What do you mean by this, Your Highness?” Helen gasped. “How do you intend to make an example of me on their behalf?”

  “It would be customary for the sea to claim you in such a situation—we bolt an anchor to your leg and drop you from a ship.”

  Helen gasped again and looked to me, her eyes pleading. I wrapped an arm around her and held her close. What the Queen was saying was total nonsense. It came out of nowhere. I had to wonder if there were other motives behind her suggested course of action.

  “Surely, this cannot be the best solution, Your Grace?” I said, trying to keep a level tone.

  “This is the most direct course of action I can think of,” she said. “I do not wish to do this, but if we were to go through with it, we could make it as painless as possible for you, Helen.”

  “How?” she said, on the verge of tears.

  “There is an herbal mixture we would administer to you. It would be in secret—the Greeks would not know. It would dull your senses and lessen the pain.”

  “My love!” the King interjected. “This is madness! We would not even know if such a concoction would work on the girl, but all of that madness aside, we simply cannot do such a thing. It is not an option. Let us not lose our heads at the first sign of danger.”

  “If it would not offend you, Your Highness, I wish to speak my mind and say that I agree with the King. There are other ways to solve our problem,” I said. “I already have my own reinforcements on the way, as you know. They alone will lessen the toll on the city.”

  “Yes, my dear. There are many more solutions,” the King said.

  “Well, what is it that you would propose, my love,” Hecuba said flatly. “I am not in the mood to lose more innocent civilian lives. The countryside has already been laid to waste in large part. What do you propose we do to bring this mindless destruction to its end?”

  The King was silent for a moment. He looked to Helen and I and then back to the Queen. Her expression was stern, impatient. He looked like a lobster counting its few options of escape while being lowered into a boiling pot.

  “I suggest we take the fight to them—outside the city,” he finally said. “Helen included. That way, all essential figures—aside from you, my dear—are out there on the battlefield. Our citizens within the walls will not be caught in the crossfire.” He looked to us, again trying to discern our body language, before continuing, “How does this sound to you, dear?”

  She crossed her arms and took a long hard look at Helen and me. Her stare weighed heavily on me, enough to make most men run for cover. I did not know what would be best; to turn away and give her the satisfaction or to meet it head on. I decided the latter, strengthening my grip on the girl at my side as I did. At that point, her decision no longer mattered to me. If I had to take Helen elsewhere to keep her safe, making myself public enemy number one in the process, that was what I would do.

  This Queen was not the laughy, chatty woman I had introduced myself to over dinner the other night. In that moment, a new reality set in—a paradigm shift, I might call it. I remembered how Priam spoke at the wall the other day; his plans on top of plans, his test of my might presented as a show of faith by selecting me as the city’s champion, his deceptive craftiness. The two were cut from the same cloth, always playing a complicated social game. When they needed to laugh and charm, that was what they did; when they had to apply the thumbscrews, they would turn up the heat. I began to wonder if there was anything genuine about them. I had already started to doubt if the King was concerned for Helen’s wellbeing when he offered her to the Greeks’ in the competition. Even now, one of the first things he mentioned when Hecuba was literally suggesting they throw Helen to the sharks, was how he worried what Helen’s disappearance would do to morale if the Greeks were to continue fighting. They both wanted to beat the enemy in this game of chess, but it seemed more and more like they were playing an internal game against each other to see who got to move the next piece against the real enemy.

  Seeing that I would not be moved, that I was willing to meet her challenging gaze for the foreseeable future, Hecuba exhaled and let down her arms, turning her attention back to the King. “I suppose if all other parties are willing”—she waved a hand in our general direction—“then that is what we shall do. But you will stop at nothing to prevent the enemy from entering the city. We have already had two close calls on this day alone. I will change my mind if it happens again.”

  “Yes, love,” the King said. “Trust me, this will work.”

  Helen buried her head in my chest and breathed a sigh of relief before turning to the Queen and saying, “Thank you, Your Majesty. I will not let you down. I promise that I will make myself of use to you.”

  “Then do so, girl,” Hecuba said. “We have enough pretty faces in this kingdom. Prove that you have more value than this fanciful talk of boosting morale. My husband puts far too much weight on that idea. Now leave me. We will gather again in the morning and discuss the next steps.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Helen said, bowing.

  I said nothing, and we made our way back to my room for the evening.

  32

  There was a terrible storm. The Moonshadow tumbled at the mercy of the waves. If Poseidon did exist in this world, he was not happy with me. Thunder boomed all around, lightning illuminating the black sky. I did not know where we were or how to get home. My only option was to hope and pray.

  “This is our last and only chance at peace!” Hecuba shouted over the tempest, her tunic pulling this way and that at the beckoning of the wind. “The gods are frowning upon us now.”

  She looked up to the angry clouds, their edges briefly outlined every few seconds by the violent light. If I looked hard enough, I was sure I could see two massive eyes looking down on us from up there.

  “Come here, girl,” the Queen demanded.

  Helen answered the call. She was stark naked except for the strap that held her weapons. The Queen pulled one of Helen’s twisted knives from the girl’s belt and held it to her throat. I wanted to shout out, to stop it, but something held me still, a captive onlooker. If it had to be done, I did not understand why they felt I had to watch.

  But no, I thought, I have to be here. For her. She needs me.

  “Take this, girl, and swallow it all.” Hecuba let down the knife and handed Helen a clump of something I did not recognize.

  She wordlessly obeyed.

  “Show me!”

  Helen opened her mouth and held out her tongue to show that the clump had gone down.

  My attention was drawn over the edge of my ship. There were four large fins cutting through the surface of the water, swimming in a circle like vultures homing in on a fresh carcass. I hoped that herbal clump would kick in fast enough to dull my girl to that kind of pain.

  “My Queen!” Priam hurried forward, worry etched in every line of his face. Resting atop his head was a crown I had not seen him wear previously. It was shaped like the king piece in a game of chess. I noticed then that the Queen, too, wore a crown—a different one, shaped like the queen piece. It was like they weren’t even trying to hide it anymore. This really was all just some sort of game to them.

  “My Queen!” Priam repeated. “Please . . . there is another way to win.”

  “Go on, dear, but hurry. I do not have all day.”

  “Yes, love.” Priam took the other wicked blade from Helen’s belt. “We must show them how much we loved Ajax the Great!”

  The King took Helen’s arm and began to saw away at it with her dagger. Helen cried out but held up her other hand to stop me, saying, “Please, Troy. Allow this. It is for the good of the people. It is for Ilium that I do this.”

  I nodded to her, again saying and doing nothing to stop this nightmare from happening. If it was what she wanted, I was no one to stand in the way, even if I wasn’t happy about it. I thought of what my life would become without her. We had only known each other for such a short time, but I felt as i
f I had loved her all my life. I was conflicted. To help her, to disregard her wishes, would make her resent me. To allow this to continue would leave me without her.

  Priam continued sawing at her arm. It broke loose from her, exposing internal wiring. He chucked it over the rail, and a shark launched from beneath the waves to intercept it, gobbling it up before it even made a splash.

  “Now they will know,” Priam said.

  I could not argue. Now the Greeks would surely know how much we honored Ajax, their mightiest warrior. I did not like it, but it was all we could do to appease them.

  “Are you quite finished?” the Queen asked flatly.

  “Yes, love.” Priam hurled the knife to the sea.

  “Then I shall continue.” She reached out and sliced Helen’s throat with the other knife. Blood flowed out this time, not wires.

  Helen cried as the life poured from her body. The Queen guided her over to the edge and pushed her off. I did not see the sharks go after her, but I knew they had.

  “Troy,” Priam said. He had come up to me when I wasn’t watching and was now looking directly into my eyes. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but she’s gone.”

  My heart was pounding. I wanted to cry. I had not felt so bad since I awoke to the news about my hands. I reached up to cover my face, to wipe away any tears that might escape my lessening grip, and saw nothing but two bloody, bandaged nubs at the ends of my wrists.

  I jerked awake. Sweat soaked my face. Stars twinkled at me through the window. I could not have been asleep for more than a couple hours. Helen was slumbering calmly at my side, blissfully unaware of the scene I had just survived. She appeared to be gone to the world just like any other human, just as she had the other nights following our arrival in the city. An odd thought struck me then; I wondered if perhaps her humanity might not be gained simply over time, but instead by how close she came to filling the shoes of the original Helen. It was nothing but a guess, but it piqued my curiosity.

  I pulled her close, holding her as tightly to my chest as my arms would allow. If she was a normal woman, I would have been worried about the harm my strength would cause, but she was not a normal woman. All the robot stuff aside, Helen was a true daughter of Troy—strong and resilient. I intended to keep her that way, alive and well, no matter the cost. Nothing resembling my nightmare would come to pass if I had any say in the matter.

  She stirred. “What is the matter, Troy? Does something bother you?”

  I was silent for a while before I answered. “Do you dream, Helen?”

  “No, Troy. I hope to one day. I am only now just beginning to sleep in a way which I feel is more suitable for a human.”

  I smiled, caressing her arm. “So I’ve noticed. It was just a bad dream is all. I’m sure you’ll know all about those soon enough.”

  She dozed back off soon after, but I lay awake, my mind too restless to return to slumber.

  We stood outside the city gates early the next morning. At our command was a force of over 3000 men. The King and Queen’s two remaining sons were there, Hektor and Alexzander.

  It was not long until we received word from the scouts on the wall that the enemy’s army on the other side of the hill was moving back, presumably to regroup with other forces camped a little over a day’s ride to the west.

  We decided that the princes would each take one fourth of the forces. Hektor would head south and force any Greek troops back to their camp; Alexzander would go north and do the same. We suspected they had more sneaky machinations planned and wanted to head that off as soon as possible. They would not necessarily be easier to fight as a single unit, but if we could round them all back up at their encampment, we could draw them out in disjointed pieces from there, having greater control of the battlefield.

  While the princes were taking care of that, Helen and I would lead the rest of the men westward and set up camp closer to the one that the Greek forces on the other side of the hill were retreating to. If everything went smoothly, the generals would meet back up with us there before sundown.

  By the time dusk was approaching, it had been a long day. With so little sleep the night before, exhaustion tainted every move I made, but I was determined to see my duties through to the end. Helen and I were just finishing up pitching our tent when Hektor returned from his patrol. It did not take long for me to recognize the scant Thirian tribal wear of the man walking at the prince’s side.

  Artession had come at last. I was beginning to wonder if he had lost his way. I looked further down the line of troops and recognized many familiar faces from Santorini among the few hundred tribesmen that followed behind their chief.

  The towering man stopped before me and bowed, then he spoke in his native tongue.

  “He says that he told you he would come, Troy, and that now he is here,” Helen translated.

  When he stood again, I extended my arm to greet him. He took my hand as we looked into each other’s eyes for an awkward amount of time.

  33

  Hektor and Artession followed Helen and me into my tent. The Chief left his people outside while we brought their leader up to speed on the situation, Helen translating for us.

  “Tell me what has happened since you saw us last, friend,” I said, offering a skein of wine.

  He graciously accepted the drink and explained in great detail everything he had experienced since we parted ways. It took a day longer than they’d hoped before the tribe was ready to leave Santorini—a place they had called home for generations immemorable. The women and children cried even long after the island was behind them and out of view. They took everything they could manage to carry on their ships, but there was not enough room for all their possessions.

  After several days of rowing with little rest, they were overcome with joy at not only the sight of the mainland, but also the sight of my ship at anchor not far from the coast. They could not believe what luck they had in following my path and knew it was ordained by the gods.

  When they made land, they were immediately alarmed by the smell of smoke and rotting flesh. They soon found many dead bodies littering the ground, with vultures eating their fill everywhere one looked. They traveled to the village nearby to see if there were any survivors or at least any supplies they could make use of. Most everything hand been taken or destroyed, aside from a few handfuls of food here or there.

  It was a heavy decision, but the tribe decided to leave their ships behind—near mine—for the time being. They followed the biggest road they saw leading out of the city, thinking it would lead to Troy. Artession had heard stories of the city as a child, so he had a general idea where it was. Many elders from his youth had traveled the country when they themselves were young and brought back treasures and tools with fantastic stories of their adventures. He explained that many of the tribe’s better weapons and some of their most beautiful jewelry came from such trips to the mainland.

  That made a lot of sense to me. Helen did her best to give him directions to the city when we were on Santorini, but it was difficult to gauge if he understood as well as he was letting on, and she was unsure herself of exactly how to get there from the direction we were coming—at least without having to take days to sail around and make land at a place she was more familiar with than Dardanelles.

  The tribe traveled further into the mainland until they came to a crossroads. They were puzzled, not knowing which way to go, and decided to camp for the night while scouts ran in both directions. When Artession awoke the next morning, he discovered that only one of the scouts had returned, and that one had no helpful information to provide. The Thirians headed the other way, thinking that whatever prevented their scout from coming back might be related to the war. They were lucky and unlucky all at once, because, though they found their scout’s headless body down that road, they also soon learned that they were traveling in the correct direction. Artession vowed to avenge his fallen brother, and the tribe took time to devour him so that he may live on as a part
of each remaining brother and sister.

  The ceremony was not yet finished when a party of troops happened upon them. Artession did not know many words in the language of the mainland, so he simply repeated “Troy” over and over again until one of them pointed him in the direction he was already leading his people. Artession told me that, upon seeing me at the camp with the Trojan soldiers, he realized that those other troops were likely enemy forces, and if he would have known that, he would have killed them. I told him that was fine and that there would be plenty of opportunities to make up for that in the coming days.

  His tribe marched on until they came across another, much larger force of men. This time it was Hektor, who knew to expect them. Through his body language, Artession understood that Hektor meant for the tribe to follow him and his men back along the smaller road from which the troops just came, but he was surprised to see me waiting for him at the end of the journey.

  As the Chieftan recounted his tale, I filled Hektor in on the relevant details, most importantly the specific reason this giant savage man and several hundred soldiers were ready to give their lives for the city’s cause. The prince was amazed, especially when I described our first encounter with the tribe and how they tested our competence in battle.

  “The two of you have something special, Troy,” Hektor said. “No one will fight harder than a soldier who loves the man—or woman—at his back.” He took a sip of wine and slammed it down on the table for emphasis. “What a journey thus far. I am honored to be a part of it.”

  “Then we are a pair,” I said. “I consider myself fortunate to be here, taking up arms with you, your brother, and this wonderful kingdom.”

  “Here, here!” He raised his goblet, and we made a toast. “I truly believe that there are only two emotions—some would argue the case for others, but I hold my position that all other emotions are derived from these two: fear and love. Some might say ‘hate and love’ would be a more appropriate pair, but this is not the case. A man cannot hate without fear, so fear is hate’s source, its precursor. And war . . . war brings both of these primal emotions to the field. I pray to the gods that our fear will be left in the dust when the blood begins to spill.” He nodded, satisfied with his speech. “So. What are we to do with the rest of the Thirian tribe? There are among them at least 300 men ready for battle, but twice as many who cannot fight.”