uncle. priam laughs and kisses the girl's forehead. he takes three goblets of wine from a servant holding a silver platter and hands them to hector and paris, keeping one for himself.
you killed apollo's priests.
then your men did. the sun god will have his vengeance. achilles removes his bronze grieves.
the right time to strike.
afraid? apollo is master of the sun. he fears nothing. achilles nods and looks around the dark tent.
you're nothing but a killer. you don't know anything about the gods.
briseis.
should i be?
stop! everyone stops and looks at the girl. despite her torn robes, her noble bearing and authoritative tone command respect.
too many people have died today. she looks at the various men in the room and finally addresses achilles.
if killing is your only talent, that's your curse. but i don't want anyone dying for me. everyone is quiet until agamemnon laughs.
what do you think?
to fight back when people attack me? a dog has that kind of courage.
why did you choose this life?
this.  to be a great warrior.
but you must enjoy it.
but you're not a scorpion. you're a man.
do you enjoy provoking me?
of course.
all the gods are to be feared and respected. for a long beat they are silent, staring at each other. the air between them is charged with more than mere contention.
what do you want here in troy? you didn't come for the spartan queen.
i thought you were a dumb brute. she looks into achilles' eyes.
i could have forgiven a dumb brute.
aren't you afraid?
you'll kill more men if i don't kill you.
may apollo forgive me. achilles pulls her closer and they kiss. he slowly slides the robe off her shoulders. briseis -- eyes closed, lips parted -- trembles as achilles unveils her. for a moment she hesitates but soon hesitation evaporates and she presses her body against his, kissing his throat, his chest, his hands. their hunger for each other is stronger than gods and nations.
am i still your captive?
in troy, guests can leave whenever they want.
larissa. is that where you're from? it's a pretty name.
she speaks with the gods?
and you chose troy.
don't! with his free hand achilles grabs her throat. she claws at his wrist. her feet spasm and kick inches off the ground.
don't go. achilles watches her in silence.
hector is my cousin. he's a good man. take me to larissa with you. but don't fight him. please don't fight him. we could have a life together, but not if you choose this path. you can walk away from war. we can walk away. achilles gazes at her, considering her words.
you lost your cousin. and now you've taken mine. achilles looks up at her.
when does it end? achilles continues sharpening his sword.
paris? andromache? she stops mid-stride. a riderless white horse rounds the corner and bolts toward her, eyes crazed, muzzled foamed with spittle. briseis backs against the wall. the terrified horse gallops past her.
they did.
no! paris fires. briseis's scream distracts him -- the arrow sails off course, hitting achilles above his heel, tearing through the tendon. achilles staggers, turns, and sees paris. achilles snarls and heads for him. paris shoots again. achilles tries to dodge but the torn tendon in his heel slows him down. the arrow rips through his side. achilles keeps limping forward.
stop! paris! stop!
stop! achilles keeps coming. paris reaches for another arrow. his quiver is empty. aeneas has his sword. the palace around them is burning, lighting their faces. blood pours from achilles' wounds. the arrow shafts stick out of him. any other man would have already fallen. but he keeps coming, relentless, his face a mask of grim purpose. briseis runs in front of her cousin paris and shields him with her body. achilles lifts his bloody sword.
no more. briseis does not move. for several seconds the great warrior and the young girl stare at each other.
no more killing. achilles looks at the seashell necklace she wears.
no more. achilles raises his sword and brings it down hard, burying its bronze blade in the soil of the garden.
shh.
there's no way out. achilles stares at paris.
because of you.