HELEN: The Wine Dark Sea

That was the very last thing Agelaus would ever want, and he shook his head. "No, we'd not be thought worthy. Come before someone challenges you to another fight you'll be too tired to win. I don't want to take you home all bloody and beaten."

Too excited to feel a single blow, Paris wiped the sweat from his brow on his arm and shook his head. When foot races were announced, he grabbed his father's arm. "I can run. I want to race too."

Agelaus closed his eyes and moaned softly. "Do what you must, if you'll not listen to me."

"This is only one day, Father," Paris chided. "Let me show what I can do."

Paris jogged to where the race would begin and took a place beside Hektor and Deiphobus. Despite their fine clothes, they looked like ordinary men to him, rather than royalty, and he smiled and nodded a greeting, which they ignored. He was quick, but it would be a long race, and he stayed back until the finish line came into view. He ran then as he did in the shadow of Mt. Ida, and sprinted past the early leader to win by a wide margin. He waved as the crowd cheered and won another fine headband.

* * *

Deiphobus bent over to rest his hands on his knees. "That boy is swift. Who is he?"

"No one," Hektor replied, "but he's fast. Let's catch our breath and challenge him to another race. He won't have the same speed a second time."

"Neither will we," Deiphobus warned.

"I will even if you won't," Hektor vowed.

Paris was surprised the king's sons wished to race him again. "Are you certain?" he asked them. He had run for the sheer joy of it at home, and they didn't look as though they spent much of their time outside the palace. He didn't wish to embarrass them, as surely that wouldn't be wise. A shorter distance was chosen this time, but Paris didn't intend to let them sprint by him. Meaning to impress King Priam, he ran as though propelled by the wind and again won easily and received a third headband.

Agelaus grabbed his son's arm. "Come quickly before they show their disappointment with their swords!"

Paris doubted there was any such danger until an armed guard appeared just ahead of them. He looked over his shoulder and found an approaching guard there as well. Turning again, he found Hektor and Deiphobus coming toward him carrying highly polished bronze swords. He pushed Agelaus behind him.

"It was only a foot race," Paris called to them. "How can you take up a sword against me?"

Neither of the king's sons responded. They tried to catch Paris between them, but he was too fast on his feet and sprung upon Zeus's altar where the god would protect him.

Frantic, Agelaus shouted to King Priam, "Paris is your son, your majesty. I couldn't sacrifice him as you asked. Punish me if you must, but save him, he's blameless, and he's your own!"

Astonished, Priam leaped to his feet. He'd seen Paris win three trophies, which was remarkable, but not noted a likeness to Hektor and Deiphobus until that moment. Paris had his sons' height, their thick black hair and lean muscular build. He was a handsome youth beneath the dust and sweat, but he'd believed the boy he'd given to Agelaus long dead.

"You disobeyed me?" he shouted.

Agelaus couldn't lie with Paris's life at stake. "Sire, he was too beautiful a babe to sacrifice. He's a fine young man, your highness, and deserves to live."

Astonished by their exchange, Paris looked between the two men, the father he loved, and the king who might have sired him. "How can what you say be true?" he yelled to Agelaus.

Agelaus hung his head rather than admit King Priam had w

anted his newborn put to death. The crowd had grown hushed as everyone strained to hear the unsettling conversation.

Hektor and Deiphobus had been small when they'd been told a baby brother had died soon after birth. They recalled their mother mourning with near endless tears, but to have that lost child presented now as a brother, was more than they could calmly accept.

"Call Mother here," Hektor shouted. "She'll know her own child."

Priam sent a servant to fetch his wife. He sank down onto a stone bench and stared at Paris, searching for any sign Agelaus's claim might prove false. The young man was strong and swift, valuable assets his other sons possessed, if not in such abundance. Although he also thought Agelaus would lie to save his own son from Hektor and Deiphobus's anger.

Priam scolded them as they waited for Hecuba. "Put away your swords. The games celebrate the victor, and you've shamed us all by turning on him. If he is faster than you, congratulate him and wait to race another day. Troy needs such strong young men to defend and honor her."

Hektor and Deiphobus exchanged a resentful glance, sheathed their swords and handed them to an attendant. They could abide losing to one another, but not to a sweaty uncouth boy from the countryside. They were royalty after all, and he was nothing but a lowly commoner in their minds.

Hecuba came running, holding her colorful skirt to avoid tripping. "What is this?" she cried. "How can my tiny son live?"

Paris was as confused as the queen and waited to hear Agelaus retell the story. Prophecies meant little to him, and clearly he'd proved the dire one condemning him to death as false for Troy stood as beautiful and prosperous as it had ever been. Who would dare to challenge the mighty Troy?

Hecuba had grieved for her lost babe every day since his death and quickly discounted the prophecy at his birth. "I recognize him as one of ours. Bring him to the palace where he can bathe and dress properly in fine clothes befitting a prince. When he returns home such a fine young man, surely his fate will benefit us all."