She Was There! - The Cilly Black Chronicles. Chapter 5 - The Fall of Troy
“I mean, what should I do!?” flapped Helen.
She was pacing up and down, a cup of wine in her hand, the contents spilling each time she gestured frantically.
Cilly lay reclined on a pile of luxurious cushions and pillows, managing to drink her wine. Every drop of Helen’s that hit the floor frustrated her more and more.
Look here, this is how a Queen acts.
Cilly drained her cup and rolled her eyes.
“Sweet one, calm yourself,” she stood and went to Helen, stroking her arm in a comforting way. “He said it must be tonight?”
It certainly must be tonight.
“He and his men are meant to ride in the morning, but Paris said we could leave tonight and implored me to go with him. Am I mad Cececilly, for even thinking of going?”
“Of course you are my love, but madness isn’t all that bad!”
They laughed and spun, falling onto the cushions.
“So you think I should go?”
Yes, but...
“You know Menelaus will come after you?”
“I know, but I…”
Cilly silenced Helen with a finger to her lips.
Take the bait.
“Do you love him?”
“Who?”
“Paris.”
“I think so,’’ Helen’s voice began to quiver and her breathing quickened.
“Then you must go.”
“But how can I, dear one?”
“How can you not? If you love him.”
“My husband, I can’t. His vengeance would be terrible.”
“Damn Menelaus, let him come after you. Listen to me now. You must go Helen, now tonight. Be with your Paris.”
“You’re right, let him come.”
“And I will be by his side when he does, then we will at least be together again.”
“Fool, you must come with me tonight.”
“Oh no, heart. I can’t do that.”
“But you must, for I may not be sure if I love this Paris,” Helen pulled Cilly closer to her, “but I am sure of one thing.”
Helen kissed Cilly passionately and they melted into each other.
“I do love you. If you do not come. I do not go.”
Cilly dipped her finger into Helen's cup, and ran it over her lips, then Helen’s.
“Then we must be quick!”
Before Cilly knew what was happening. She and Helen were running giggling through the night towards Paris’ camp.
Time in Troy passed for Cilly in a whirlwind of decadence and finery. Men and Helen. Behaviour that would make Dionysus himself blush. Then as they had predicted - Menelaus came, and he brought friends.
Bare chested, beefy friends.
As the Greeks sacked the city, Paris stood on high, bow in hand. He looked across his home as it burned. The screams of his father’s people ringing in his ears. He nocked an arrow and let it fly - cutting short the life of a Greek soldier.
There he was - Achilles.
Another arrow nocked. Bow drawn. The arrow flew.
It found Achilles heel, but as it hit, Paris felt a blinding heat in his side.
“How does it feel, Prince? To watch everything you love burn,” Cilly drooled in his ear.
Paris gasped trying to respond. His mouth shaping the word “Why.”
“Why, Paris? Why!?”
Cilly turned the Prince leaning him against the parapet.
“I want you to take all of this in. The burning towers. The screaming citizens. The clanging metal as your soldiers fall. Your father, and Hector are dead. Your brother’s head has been dashed at the city walls and your mother has killed herself. All because of you.”
Cilly turned him back to face her.
“And you want to know why? You want to know why this great city falls and all your family lie dead?”
Paris’ eyes bulged with confusion.
“Or you want to know why, this.”
Cilly retrieved the blade from between Paris’ ribs and brought it to his face.
“This? And that,” Cilly turned him again to face the falling city. “Why? Well let me tell you. It is not because you stole a woman from her insanely proud husband, and embarrassed him in front of all the kings in the known world. Oh no, and it’s not because she was mine just as much as she was his, no. She’ll love me long after you are both gone.”
She turned him back to face her once more.
“In telling you why, let me give you a little bit of advice. Next time you are asked to name the most beautiful woman in existence - Give me the golden fucking apple!”
Cilly heaved Paris and hoisted him over the parapet. She watched his body fall to the ground with a thwack. She spat over the side after him. Cilly looked at the blade in her hand and wiped it across her face and then sent it over the side too. She then reached down to the hem of her dress and ripped it up the leg. She gave one last look around. Then in a second, her face changed and she screamed,
“Help! Help me!” Cilly ran into the burning city.
*Disclaimer: These versions of events belong to Cilly, any historical inaccuracies are a result of gin induced delusion.