Between Lions and Men

37: all radiant as the star

Hecktor

"Do not," my mother holds one arm, and my father the other.

"I will take my stand by the Western gate, I've told the men that none of them are to challenge Achilles, for he and I belong to the other now for the fate's dice to see who wins," I tell them.

I do think of going out without armor. To surrender. To tell him to do as he likes with me. To go without sword or shield. But he would strike me down. The man has no mercy.

Achilles

"No man is to touch Hecktor, for he is mine alone, you all fight your battles, and I shall fight mine," I say, tugging the hat down over my hair and tossing my spear in my hands.

"So they've been instructed," Mycenae says.

"He's at the West Gate," Ithaca says, lazily. He has no weapon.

"We march," I say, as I make my way to the front of the troops.

As I do there is a brilliant flash of light before me.

"Son of Peleus you're quite fast on your feet. But you shan't catch me, man can't catch gods. Or are you too full of your rage to see that I am a god?

Don't you care for fighting any more or just your love? You've chased them back but you shan't kill me," Apollo laughs, and then he takes off running.

"I'd slay you if I could! You've tricked me once you shall not hide Hecktor away in your shadows again!" I cry, taking off running. But I don't follow the way he went. I run towards the walls, breaking well away from my pack of men. And I meet my stride. Like a race horse finally coming to an open field, I pull out ahead, caring little for the men falling back slowly behind me as they seek their foes.

The west gate calls to me.

Hecktor

I see him charging off, well ahead of the rest. Rust-gold armor over nothing but a thin shirt, he has his shining spear in his hand. And blood lust burning his eyes.

I stand true, waiting, my shield at ready.

But Andy's words echo in my ears. Try to live. Try to live. I will not live if he reaches me. Yet he is their greatest sprinter. Yet I run.

Achilles

I don't scream his name. He knows I'm coming. He knows why I'm coming. He knows why he'll die like a dog today. I am a falcon, he is but a mouse. I can fly like this forever. His face bleeds fresh from the wound Patroclus dealt. His time is short and grows shorter with each stride I take.

Hecktor

I don't dare look back. I can't even hear his fleet footed steps. He moves as a god now. Something far above mortal men, he has no sound in his steps, and is slim and agile as a hound tirelessly pursuing a fox.

I am the fox.

And I refuse to go down like this. He'll launch his spear I wait for it in my back. No that's not how I want to end.

More than that.

I do not want to end.

I leap over a rock and I hear the soft light steps of the swift footed Achilles behind me. He's no longer any son of Peleus or any mortal man, nor the spoiled child of a sea witch. He is Achilles and his name will forever be synonymous with blood. My blood. And this is a race for it.

Achilles

We pass a stream, and then a fence, and we're coming back around the wall again. I cast my eyes to my men but they dare not interfere as I hone in closer to my prey. We run like dogs in a track, save he is the rabbit tied to a string and I the dog who cannot lose.