Chapter Four

The southern beaches of Troy were devoid of soldiers. The mighty Myrmidons had left the shores of Troy, never to return. Agamemnon looked out upon the once-active location that was as empty as the goblet he now held. As he looked, anger welled up within his heart, and he understood Achilles' abandonment. The man hated him, but Odysseus had left as well, which angered and concerned Agamemnon. Never before had people deserted him in any battle. He did not like the feeling of loosing at all, even if it was just soldiers. He went back into his tent and grabbed the bag of rings that was placed on his desk. He opened it up to place them upon his fingers, knowing full-well that with these rings he would be granted victory in this war. One by one the rings were placed upon each finger. When the fifth ring was put on his finger he reached in to get the sixth and seventh ones but was surprised to find them missing. He looked into the bag to confirm his fears. It was true, two of the seven rings he had were missing. He threw the bag on the ground and began to search around franticly in his tent, hoping to find them somewhere on the floor. After searching for thirty minutes he was unable to locate them. It was then the idea donned upon him that the two missing rings had been taken by Achilles and Odysseus when they left.

"Damn those men! Not only do they desert me in the middle of a war but also take two of my rings with them! Damn them! Damn them!"

Nestor heard his lord talking to himself outside and walked into Agamemnon's tent to see what the great king was so upset about. "Great King, is something the matter? You have not been yourself of late."

"I am fine Nestor, I am simply enraged. The greatest warrior to ever live has walked out on me along with my most intelligent general. Damn them both!"

Agamemnon got down on his knees and began to pray. "Hear me Hades, god of the dead and damned, I beseech you, fill their travels with woe and suffering, as an offering I will sacrifice one of my children to you."

Nestor only watched. He had noticed for some time but now it was accelerating. He watched as Agamemnon put on the first ring, and watched as each time he put on a new ring he became more and more violent. It was gradual for the most part. Now, however, it seemed to be becoming more prevalent. He had chosen to ignore it because Agamemnon was, after all, his King. However, things were happening that even began to scare Nestor away from his service to his king. Never before had Agamemnon offered one of his children for sacrifice. Nestor wasn't even sure a priest would conduct that ceremony. This gave Nestor chills, to think that a man who was of such honor and caring for his own blood would choose to kill one of them for revenge against two men. It was not natural. Nestor said no more but simply walked out of the tent and back to his own. He needed sleep, perhaps with a new day would bring a new thinking for his king.

XXXXX

Achilles and Patroclus were sleeping on the deck while Odysseus charted the waters for his men to follow. It had been a year and nine months since they left the beaches of Troy. Ten minutes before they left the beaches of Troy, Achilles requested that Patroclus, being sneakier than both Achilles and Odysseus combined, slip into Agamemnon's tent and take the rings that belonged to both Achilles and Odysseus. Now those two rings were hidden below deck inside of a crate underneath a sack of grain.

Odysseus was studying a chart when Patroclus woke up. He stood and walked over to Odysseus so that he could look out as the pentekonter sailed swiftly across the water.

"Where exactly are we headed, Odysseus?" Patroclus looked at Achilles still sleeping. "He hasn't told me anything about where we are going."

Odysseus chuckled, "No I suppose he hasn't, nor would he, even if he could." Odysseus smiled at the youth's wish to gain knowledge. It reminded him of himself when he was younger. "We are sailing to a port to the north; it is called The Grey Havens. I know not of who built it or why but it is an impressive port, from what I have heard. Merchants from the north tell me that it is owned by a race of beings that are perfect in every way. Personally I would love to meet a race who is better than man; we are such imperfect creatures, after all."

Patroclus stared out across the water, his mind racing with ideas as to who these people could possibly be. More perfect men, or something else? Patroclus' gaze focused on the west, it was out there, something of great value, something that was precious to all beings but not welcoming for many. After he stood there, staring into the west for a couple of hours, Patroclus returned to his bed next to Achilles. He was exhausted. He could not explain why, but something was weighing heavily upon his heart. All he wanted to do right then was sleep, and perhaps with a new day would bring new insight. As he laid down his eyes slid shut faster than his body could react, by the time his head had hit the pillow he was in a deep sleep.

As the hours passed, Odysseus, the ever watchful seaman, kept a keen eye on the horizon for any possible threats to the safety of the ship and themselves. As night rolled in Odysseus began to slip into an uneasy sleep, the thought of running aground or capsizing in a storm was always on the forefront of his mind. Eventually sleep took even the able-bodied king of the seas. As he slept a great storm came in, one the likes of the Aegean had never seen. Its monstrous thunderheads rumbled almost silently in the blackness of the night. It was only when the storm was almost on top of them that Odysseus awoke. When he did, he was struck with fear. He simultaneously awakened his men and began to raise the sail.

"Wake up you sea dogs! There's a storm ahead! Mount oars! Take up positions! Achilles, Patroclus, help me raise the sail!"

Achilles awoke with a start and ran to the aid of Odysseus. As he grabbed on to the left rope he began to pull franticly. Patroclus, who had just woken up, was now stumbling on the deck trying to reach the mast in time. Just as Patroclus grabbed the center rope to help the two men, the first of the great waves came crashing down upon their heads. It engulfed the three men in seawater, as they held their breath they continued to haul the sail up.

Once the sail was up, Achilles and Patroclus tied themselves to the pentekonter's beams and held on as hard as they could. Odysseus went below deck and pulled out the pouch with the two rings from its hiding place, as he returned to the top deck he discovered that they would not evaded the storm. In his best attempt for safety Odysseus tied himself to the mast of the pentekonter. The storm was now directly above the small ship. Odysseus could feel the ship warp and buckle as it was tossed about on the torrential seas.

"Odysseus!" Achilles shouted, "I fear that this ship will not survive the storm! Are we near an alcove or a shore to land upon!?"

Odysseus looked calm despite the severe strain being place on the ship. "Do not worry, my friend; this ship has been with me since I became king of Ithica! She will survive this like she did so many other storms!" Secretly Odysseus was praying to himself that the storm not destroy this ship. If it did they would surely be walking the rest of the way to their destination.

As the storm raged around them, Patroclus watched in horror as the waves came crashing over the ship. The small pentekonter was being tossed about like a child's toy on the undulating vastness. The last thing Patroclus saw was a lightning bolt striking the mast before losing consciousness. When Patroclus awoke he was on a beach with white sand. He found that the only things he had with him was his armor, sword, and a few scattered pieces of the broken and torn-up ship.

Patroclus stood up and began to search the beach for any survivors "Achilles? Odysseus?" No response came. For the next hour Patroclus walked the beach without any sign of life. If it weren't for the debris from the pentekonter it would not have been know that anything had happened the night before. The beach was pristine and undisturbed, save for the stray pieces of wood that now littered it. Patroclus continued to walk up the beach until he did find someone. As he ran up he noticed that it was one of the oarsmen from the ship. Patroclus knelt next to the man to check for a heartbeat. He heard nothing.

Patroclus began to recite a prayer he had once heard his cousin give to a fallen soldier in battle, he wasn't sure what it said but it felt right.

"Lotesse ro seere e' i' ale' coia." He thought he had said it correctly but he could not be sure, since he had only heard his cousin say it once.

"Never before have I heard a man utter such a sentence to another. Tell me, are you descended from one of the Númenoreans?"

Patroclus' shot up from his kneeling position and turned around to face this new entity. When his eyes fell upon the sight he almost fell over again. Patroclus had never seen such beauty. The woman standing in front of him was perfect in every way. She was so beautiful that it was almost godlike. She looked at Patroclus with just as much wonder and curiosity.

"M-my apologies, I do not mean to stare but you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

The maiden smiled "Likewise, my name is Ninniachel. What is your name, traveler?"

Patroclus smiled, he had never felt like this before, he was sure that he had fallen into a dream. "My name is Patroclus. Ninniachel, is this a dream? Am I dead?"

Ninniachel laughed at this, "Of course not, you are very much alive. You are in the land of Middle-earth. But tell me, from where do you hail? I have never seen armor or dress of your like around here."

"I am from a land to the south called Greece, my kin and I, Achilles and Odysseus are their names, were traveling north in search of answers. Achilles and Odysseus had been having dreams that neither could explain but it seemed to draw them to the north. We were headed for a port called the Grey Havens, but along the way our ship ran into a storm and was torn apart. The last thing I remember before waking up on the beach was a lightning bolt hitting the mast of our ship. The man you saw me kneeling over was one of our oarsmen."

"I see, and you are in search of your kin? Then perhaps I can help you. I know these lands better than most. If you wish it I could aid you in your search."

Patroclus couldn't help but beam with anticipation "Yes I would very much like your aid, and company, if you would give it willingly."

"Certainly young Patroclus, you were searching north on the beach, were you not?"

"I was."

With that the two walked off in search of Achilles and Odysseus.

Meanwhile four miles south of them Achilles and Odysseus stirred. They had been saved from death by sheer luck. Where they landed was the only clear stretch of beach between massive jagged stones that would have ripped the both of them to shreds.

Achilles woke up and looked around. "Patroclus! Patroclus!" No response came. Achilles franticly got up and began shouting at the top of his lungs to try and get a response, but still none came. Achilles had yet to take notice of the lack of his shield. Odysseus awoke and grabbed at his wrist. The pouch with the two rings was still tied securely and showed no signs of damage. As he looked around he noticed their location.

Odysseus looked up at his shouting companion.

"Achilles, calm down. If he didn't answer the first time he will not answer. We are clearly on the southernmost edge of the beaches before we reach the Gulf of Lhûn. From what the map said this is near a well-established city, I believe it is called Harlond. Our only option is to head north along the beach and try to find this city. If we keep looking, we might even find some evidence of Patroclus."

Achilles didn't even acknowledge Odysseus and began to run to the north. As Odysseus got up he noticed that he was not holding his bow. He looked around on the beach for it, but it was not there. For the first time in his life Odysseus sank to his knees. He felt as though a part of him was lost and could never be replaced. He looked up to where Achilles was once standing. Odysseus hauled himself up and began to run after the powerful warrior. Odysseus hoped that they might find his bow further up the shoreline while they were searching for Patroclus.

After an hour of running, Odysseus finally stopped and shouted to Achilles. Achilles was running on pure adrenaline, hoping to find some evidence of Patroclus. When he heard his friend's shout he stopped dead in his tracks and turned around.

"What! What could you possibly want that would be more important than finding Patroclus!?"

Odysseus said nothing. He simply bent over and heaved in and out with each breath until he pointed to the shoreline. Achilles had not seen it before but when he looked again he saw footprints. They were the same sized feet as Patroclus'. For the first time since this began, Achilles heart skipped a beat. He had little hope of finding anything related to Patroclus, but when he saw the foot prints he let himself believe, just for a moment, that his beloved cousin might still be alive.

"Odysseus, those tracks can't be more than a couple hours old, we are close! Come on!" Achilles set off in a dead sprint in an attempt to catch up to his cousin.

Odysseus took in one more deep breath and began to bolt after the Greek warrior. Each step strained him to the limits of his ability. He had known that Achilles was the greatest warrior, but now he knew why. The stamina of the man was unmatched by anyone he had ever seen. Despite having been in a full run for the past hour the man showed no sign of stopping or slowing. When he had seen Achilles' face there was not even the slightest sign of fatigue gracing it.

Further up the shore, less than a couple of hours ahead of the two kings, Patroclus was walking. He had forgotten about Achilles and Odysseus. His mind was too focused on the beautiful woman walking with him. As Ninniachel walked, Patroclus noticed that her clothes, made of what appeared to be a red cloth of which he had never seen, barely moved, despite the pace of their steps. On top of that when he stepped down on the wet sand it left distinct impressions on the coarse earth, but when Ninniachel stepped down she left no imprint. It was at this time that he also noticed the points of her ears sticking out from underneath her hair. Patroclus' shocked look did not go unnoticed.

"Is something troubling you, young Patroclus?"

Patroclus' gaze became stony as he looked forward trying to hide his surprise. "It is nothing important, I just thought it was curious, is all."

Ninniachel smiled. "About what?"

"Like I said, it was nothing important, I just noticed things."

"What things?"

"Well, I am curious, why do your feet not make prints on the ground? Why does your dress not move when you walk? Why are your ears pointed? Where do you come from?"

Ninniachel laughed at this.

"Why do you mock me?"

Ninniachel couldn't keep from smiling. "I mean no insult, Patroclus, but your questions come faster than I can answer. To answer your first three questions, the reason is because I am an Elf. To answer your last question, I come from a land to the east called Lindon, the place from which I hail is called Rivendell. It is a beautiful city among the trees and mountains."

Patroclus was dumbfounded, "What is an Elf?" was the first question he spouted, with so many more waiting to roll off his tongue.

Ninniachel was puzzled by this. "Do you truly not know what an Elf is? You must come from far to the south indeed if you know not who we are. All men know of us, either by firsthand knowledge or myths created about our people. I am shocked to find one such as you, with highly noble blood, not knowing who we are. Very well I will tell you everything I can about my people."

As the two walked along the beach, Ninniachel explained the entire history of the Elves to Patroclus, from the first Elves to set foot on Middle-earth, who were so taken by the beauty of the stars that they often sought darkness, to the creation of the Two Trees made by the Valar to light the world, as well as their destruction at the hands of the evil tyrant Morgoth. She spoke of how three jewels had been created that held the pure light of the Two Trees before they were destroyed, how the elves were called across the waves to the west, to the undying lands, and how as the elves began their march to the west, many stopped, finding such beauty that they could go no further, while others simply refused to go to the west. They wished to stay where they could best see the stars. She recalled mournfully how many of her kin were taken by the dark powers of Morgoth and turned into twisted forms, how the three most sacred jewels were stolen by Morgoth and put into a crown, and how a war was fought for them, yet only one was recovered from his crown.

It had been six hours since they started walking and the two had just now reached the entrance to the port city of Harlond. There Patroclus' eyes beheld a sight like none he had ever seen in Greece. The cities, made of pale grey stone, seemed to simply grow out of the ground as though they had no base save the earth itself. The towers that reached high into the sky looked as though they were carved out of single piece of stone rather than many blocks. It so stunned Patroclus that he physically stopped for five minutes to simply take in the immense amount of beauty.

Patroclus finally roused himself from the images around him. "Where are we? This place is truly magnificent. I have never seen anything of its like before. Who built it?"

Ninniachel was happy that he loved the beauty that the elves created. "This is the port city of Harlond. It was built in a joint effort by my own people, the Ñoldor and the Sindar. The name Ñoldor means "those with knowledge", we are called the Noble Elves in the Common Tongue. The Sindar are simply referred to as the Grey Elves, because when the call came for them to leave the shores they refused."

Patroclus was silent for a while, lost deep in thought. When he spoke his tone was grave. "I have never seen such beauty, and I most likely will never see such beauty again. Do your cities decay with time, as many things made by man do?"

Ninniachel looked somber at that statement. "In all truth and reality, I am not sure. We often enchant things to keep them as new as possible for longer periods of time, but our enchantments do not last forever. Our people may be immortal, but our cities, our buildings that have made a mark on the world, will, in enough time, fade from existence like many things in this world."

It was at that statement that Patroclus remembered his cousin. "Achilles would argue that statement. He feels that, since humans cannot gain immortality unless granted to them by the gods, then they too will wither away and die, but not before they have a chance to make a name for themselves, so that their deeds will be remembered for the next ten thousand years. That is my cousin's dream."

"Your cousin seems like he is an honorable man, more so than most men who live in this world."

It was Patroclus' turn to smile, "It is who we are as a people. Honor means everything to a true Greek. Only a true Greek would understand that Honor can be won in many ways, but is best left to be gained in war above all else. In war, deeds that honor not only your name, but also your King, will win you riches beyond your dreams. In some cases Honor can grant you the title of King itself."

Patroclus' face turned downward, "Yet my cousin chose to abandon his chance for eternal glory and fame won on the field of battle for Honor, in exchange for knowledge as to what tormented his mind. It was something totally out of the realm of reality for me to even think that Achilles, master of war, would leave a great battle to find peace."

Ninniachel looked at Patroclus for a long time before answering. "Young Patroclus, you speak without knowing. The seeking of peace is a more noble cause than any war. I am sure that your cousin knows this, if he were here right now he would most likely say that peace is something he has sought his whole life…and yet it never sought him."

Meanwhile, a mile away, Achilles and Odysseus came stumbling up the beach towards the city of Harlond.