Hecabe, Queen of Troy, had a dream. She dreamed that she had given birth to a creature made of fire. It ran through the city, burning everything it touched. Soon the whole city was on fire. Beautiful temples and palaces burned, walls and towers crashed to the ground, and blood flowed through the streets.
Hecabe woke, screaming.
"Call the seer," she said to her servant. "I have had a dream."
The seer came. King Priam, her husband, came too. She told them what she had seen.
"It is clear what this dream means," said the seer. "Your next son will destroy the city of Troy."
Hecabe wept when she heard this. She was pregnant and she knew what had to be done.
"He must die," she said.
Priam nodded. He tried to comfort his wife: "He will die to save the lives of thousands of people. That is more than most heroes have done."
So when Hecabe gave birth to her son, Priam called a servant. "Take this baby to Mt. Ida, and leave him there to die."
The servant took the baby and left the city. Priam sadly watched them go.
The child would have died on Mt. Ida, but a shepherd found him lying in the field and took pity on him. He took the baby to his hut. He washed him, cleaned him, fed him and gave him the name Paris.
So Paris grew up as a shepherd, without knowing that he was a prince. He was a beautiful child, and as he grew older, he became even more beautiful. He was kind and gentle and quick to laugh. Everyone liked him, everyone loved him, and it was sad day for many people when he finally fell in love with and married the nymph Oenone.
Oenone and Paris lived quietly and happily for many years on Mt. Ida.
And then one day, Hermes arrived with a golden apple.
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