helen? helen of sparta? both helen and priam now look at paris. i've heard rumors of your beauty. for once, the gossips were right. welcome. come, you must be tired. he leads them up the stairs and into the palace. the young men of troy were devastated when she chose the virgin robes. briseis' cheeks turn bright red. i thank the gods for your safe return. the king and the princes spill a few drops of wine. it's the will of the gods. everything is in their hands. but i'm surprised you let him bring her. we could send peace envoys to menelaus. what would you have me do? women have always loved paris and he's loved them back. but this is different. something has changed in him. if we send her back to menelaus, he'll follow. hector stands and joins his father in the archway. he gestures outside. the city of troy teems with life, the citizens going about their business. enemies have been attacking us for centuries. our walls still stand. apollo watches over us. even agamemnon is no match for the gods. don't mock the gods. hector opens his mouth to argue but holds his tongue. when you were very young you came down with scarlet fever. hector nods impatiently. he's heard this story before. your little hands were so hot. the healer said you wouldn't last the night. i went down to apollo's temple and i prayed until the sun came up. that walk back to the palace was the longest of my life. but i went into your mother's room and you were sleeping in her arms. the fever had broken. i promised that day to dedicate my life to the gods. i will not break my promise. for thirty years i've worked for peace. thirty years. paris is a fool sometimes. i know that. but i'll fight a thousand wars before letting him die. hector looks past the city to the sea. the waters are empty now, but he knows what's coming. glaucus, you've fought with me for forty years. can we win this war? hector. show respect. when archeptolemus prophesied four years of drought, we dug deeper wells. the drought came and we had water to drink. the high priest is a servant of the gods. paris -- do you love her? paris looks up at the statue of aphrodite. i've fought many wars in my time. some were fought for land, some for power, some for glory. i suppose fighting for love makes more sense than all the rest. paris says nothing, but his father's words seem to relieve a great burden from his shoulders. but i won't be the one fighting. he hands paris the bundle. paris, curious, begins unwrapping the cloth. finally the object is uncovered: a shining sword, expertly forged, inscribed with the seal of troy. my father carried this sword, and his father before him, all the way back to the founding of troy. the history of our people was written with this sword. carry it with you tomorrow. paris holds the sword up and it glows in the moonlight. the spirit of troy is in that sword. as long as a trojan carries it, our people have a future. sit with me. helen follows the king to his grandstand and sits beside him. she's aware of people staring at them but he seems oblivious. all my life i've prayed against this day. call me father, dear child. startled by this affection, she hesitates before responding. i blame you for nothing. everything is in the hands of the gods. besides, how could i blame anyone for falling in love with paris? helen looks out at the battlefield, fixing on paris, at this distance a tiny figure on horseback. priam takes her hand. fight him, son. fight him. helen stares at the battlefield, her face unreadable. the last time the high priest spoke to us he prophesied a great victory for troy. we won a great victory. let him speak. what course of action do you recommend? glaucus? you're confident about the meaning of these omens? prepare the army. we attack at noon. prepare the army. may the gods be with you. hector! hector turns back. father and son look at each other. for a moment we think priam will be unable to speak. finally: no father ever had a better son. the words deeply move hector. he bows again and moves on. he passes by glaucus, who bows to the prince. my boy. my boy. andromache sits against the wall, knees tucked against her chest, face against her knees. scamandrius begins to cry. helen kneels by andromache. she picks up the baby and soothes him. helen takes andromache's hand. andromache looks up. her eyes are a terrible thing to see. i have endured what no one on earth has endured before. i kissed the hands of the man who killed my son. i know my own country better than the greeks, i think. do you really think death frightens me now? i watched my eldest son die, watched you drag his body behind your chariot. priam stares at achilles, and for the first time since we've known him, achilles looks away. give him back to me. he deserves the honor of a proper burial. you know that. give him to me. he thought it was you. he defended his country. how many cousins have you killed? how many sons and fathers and brothers and husbands? how many, brave achilles? i knew your father. he died before his time. but he was lucky not to live long enough to see his son fall. achilles does not respond. we cannot read his expression. you've taken everything from me. my eldest son, heir to my throne, defender of my kingdom. i can't change what happened. it's the will of the gods. but give me this small mercy. achilles looks into the old man's eyes. priam tries to blink back his tears but fails. i loved my boy from the moment he opened his eyes till the moment you closed them. let me wash his body. let me say the prayers. let me place two coins on his eyes for the boatman. you're still my enemy tonight. but even enemies can show respect. achilles nods. it's the same in my country. briseis? priam wraps his arms around her, thrilled she's alive. we thought you were dead, little swan. come, my girl. priam reaches down and helps her onto the chariot. he seizes the reins and they're off, the myrmidons escorting them to safety. achilles stares at briseis until she's gone. plague. what is this? i will not watch another son die. have you no honor? no respect for the gods? please. the children. spare the innocents.