H is for Hector

As first and foremost prince of Troy, my position was among the proudest in the world. I acted to protect my city, my family, and my brother from the marauding Achaens bent on seizing our glory for their starving selves. When I speak of protecting my brothers, I’m not thinking of Alexandros, whose lustful madness offended the gods, bringing ruin upon us all. No, I mean Troile, my impetuous younger sibling who managed to attract the eye of the mightiest and most vicious of the Achaens. It matters not what weird flirtation they share in women’s garb as Aissa and Polyxena. This is a flirtation with disaster. Change follows on Troile’s heels as does Achille himself. I find myself thinking of Ganymede, Zeus’s immortal cupbearer. He was once a Trojan prince whom Zeus snatched up in a fit of passion. Troy survived that passion. It may not survive Achille’s. My duty is to see that it survives and thrives, but at what cost? How much of my family do I have to sacrifice? How much do I have to sacrifice? Alexandros has already brought doom upon us all. What doom shall Troile bring by drawing Achille’s lecherous eye? I will not bow to such lustful disregard. I will not yield my brother to that man. If the Achaens come for us, I shall fight them. The gods’s favour may wax and wane, but this simple truth I am certain of. Whatever threatens Troy or our pride, I shall fight. Let them come if they dare!