There was nothing the Greek warrior could do, he was completely defenseless, his eyes opening wide as he knew without a doubt that this would be the last thing he would ever see before the end came. However, death did not come as Gaius had planned. Instead of driving his sword through the Greek’s chest, the mud that had yet to dry on his feed caused him to slip. There was nothing he could do as he fell, landing flat on his back, on the ground with a loud thump.
The Greek took advantage of the situation and ran forward. Gaius didn’t have time to regain his footing before the sandaled heel of the Greek’s crashed down onto his chest.
“A valiant effort my opponent, but alas it was a vain one. Now, you shall die,” the Greek yelled as he drove his sword through Gaius’ stomach.
He screamed as the blade was driven through the soft flesh of his belly, twisting as it tore through his entrails. It was not a quick or painless death, but slow and agonizing as the villain laughed, enjoying his victory, at last.
Death was not what troubled Gaius as he breathed his last, as his thought drifted to his failure to complete his vital mission, knowing that the kingdom, he had sworn to protect would fall to the foreign hordes. It was bitter knowledge, worse than the agony he was in now.
The world grew dark as death overtook him. Then, as the Greek roared his victory, Gaius left this world as a defeated hero, slain by his enemy, who would now claim the greatest prize in the known world.
However, darkness did not linger as his eyes opened once more, and his lungs filled with fresh air. He tried to stand back to his feet but could not as the foot of his murderer was still firmly planted on his chest, keeping him pinned to the ground.
“I, Achilles, have defeated the powerful and mighty Hector of Troy. I am now the greatest warrior on the face of the Earth! No man can stand in the path of the great Achilles!”
Gaius tried to stand to his feet, but the would-be-Achilles pushed him back down onto the muddy ground — the same wide grin still evident on his face as he turned his attention to someone else.
“Now I shall claim my prize, my queen, Helen of Troy,” Achilles said with a sinister smile as he stepped over Gaius’ body, walking over to a girl who sat across the road, watching the whole ordeal with wide eyes and a bigger grin.
“Ewww!” the pretender who played the part of Helen of Troy cried out as she sat on the top of a wooden fence, swinging her legs back and forth.
“But you must marry me. I have defeated Hector for you,” Achilles said as he stood before the younger girl who looked disgusted by the thought of marrying the warrior who walked towards her — his arms held wide to his side as he knelt down on one knee, waiting for her to run into his embrace.
The uncooperative Helen leaped from the fence. As she hurried over toward Achilles, she pushed him out of the way, which forced him down onto his backside before she hurried over to Gaius, who finally managed to get back to his feet, tying to brush the drying mud off from his tunic and bare legs.
Throwing her arms around Gaius, the girl looked back at Achilles, the boy who was actually her brother, and proclaimed, “I choose Gaius as my husband. He is my hero, and I shall marry him!” she cried out as she looked up into Gaius’ boyish eyes with a wide smile on her young face.
Her grip on his leg was firm, not caring about the dirt that stuck to his body, as long as she had him in her arms.
“Hey! You can’t do that. He is supposed to be Hector. And he is dead!” the pretender who played Achilles yelled with a frustrated expression, bitter as he watched once again his sister ruined his game.
“And besides, Helen is supposed to be in love with Paris,” Gaius said as he looked down at the little girl.
“I can marry whoever I want!”
“No you can’t, Julia!” Antony, her older brother screamed. “You can’t just go and change the story. Can’t she, Gaius?”
Gaius looked down at Julia as she stared back up at him with her big, dark-green eyes, seemingly asking him without words that he should agree with her and not her brother.
“It doesn’t really matter, I guess. Pretty much everyone dies in the end,” Gaius answered as diplomatically as he could — setting the historical facts straight.
“Well, that isn’t very fun. Why can’t we just change it?” Julia asked.
“Because, it isn’t our story to change,” he answered.
“Yeah, so strop trying to marry him already,” Antony said as he walked over to his sister and smacked her upside her head. Julia turned, yelling at her brother as she started to swing at him.
Gaius looked on, watching his two friends as they fought, as they normally did. For the moment, he was thankful that he was the only child in the family.
As Antony and his younger sister fought in the middle of the road, Gaius looked over his shoulder and gazed upon the falling sun, which in fewer than two hours would be gone, ending his day with his two best friends.
He sighed as he had to start his way home. If he didn’t, his father would be angry with him. He still felt the effects of the last time he had made the mistake of getting back home after nightfall.
“I have to go home before it is too dark,” Gaius said, but he wasn’t sure if his friends actually heard him, as Antony, taller than his six-year-old sister, was mocking her foolish attempts to beat him with her tiny fists.
Julia, while four years younger than her brother, held her own. She never backed down from a challenge, or let her brother bully her. So she would fight him, confront any attempt to demean her, especially when she was with Gaius. He figured that Julia felt she had to prove herself worthy to play with the boys, or risk being cast out if she should back down.
For all the talk and physical torment that Antony committed against his sister, it was clear to Gaius that he loved and looked out for her as any good brother should. He simply wasn’t accustomed to having to share his friends with a girl, who demanded daily to play with the two boys, namely because she desired to be around Gaius as much as she could.
Julia followed them day after day, like a little mascot as the two filled the afternoon with fantastical wonders, pretending to be warriors or acting classical stories, as champions defending Greece from Troy, or the Persians, or battling the fearsome Cyclops, the Hydra, or the frightful snake-haired Medusa. On occasion the two found use for her, such as their need for a girl to play the part of Helen of Troy. However, stubbornly, Julia was always more interested in the here and now — being around Gaius, and preferring that she, not an alter ego, be the object of his affections.
He found her cute, to say the least. She was an adorable young lady, even though she was half his age. She had a small, dainty body, groomed to someday be a proper Roman woman. Her hair smelled of scented oils and was curled in strands around her bangs. Her nails were painted different colors almost every day as she was tended by a dozen slaves, all women who acted like second mothers. Julia didn’t care about being a girl, trapped in her physical limitations. She liked being around the boys and playing their games. It might have proven an issue if her father was around more, but he spent most of his time in the city. Her mother was gone, having died during childbirth when Julia was born. Perhaps that was, as Gaius figured, why the two rich children of a Roman senator found common interest with a simple farm boy, as Gaius had lost his mother also.
“I have to go home,” Gaius called out again as he picked his wooden sword up off the ground; bashing it against the dirt road, so he could dislodge some of the loose mud from the blade that meant to simulate a Roman gladius, the standard sword of Rome’s infantry.
“I will walk with you,” Antony replied quickly as he let go of his sister, who was pushing against him with all her might. The act caused her to fall to the ground as Antony turned and grabbed his own things that lay up against the fence; his wooden sword that was designed more in the fashion of a longer Greek blade, a simple wool cloak and a small water skin.