.

Book VIII

Pŭrl Demilůne

Patroclus maneuvered through the gathering crowd of Myrmidons and Greeks, all of which were loudly conversing outside their leader's tent. Their bodies were enclosed in sweat, frustration and above all curiosity. He finally squeezed between Ajax and Eudorus, who merely acknowledged him with a nod. "What's happened?"

Myrmidons from behind distract Ajax into their own group, asking the same inquiry. Giving Eudorus the chance to speak to another, he bumps shoulders with those surrounding, eventually facing Patroclus. "The woman, we think she tried to escape after Achilles left the tent," he points to the opening. "She was unconscious. Both shared the burden of carrying her from the temple. Achilles did not seem very concerned though, rather frustrated, but Odysseus was in complete contrast. His uneasiness was an obvious factor along with how involved he seemed."

"Involved?"

Someone nearly lost their balance after trying to reach the front as Patroclus had. No one was letting anyone further. The group was beginning to grow annoyed and aggressive. But they all wanted to know what the situation entailed.

"Yes. For instance, he- Will you cease from elbowing me?" Eudorus glanced behind him for the culprit. There were too many to pin the guilt upon. The back of the crowd was pushing forward. "Stop!" They continued. He spun back to Patroclus who was staring straight, mouth slightly agape.

Odysseus had been forcefully pushed out of the tent, but he did not seem angry, did not stumble or even move from where he landed, he merely stood with patience and waited. "Odysseus!" Patroclus emerged from the mass troop. He slowly turned, raising his brow as if he was just now noticing them.

"Why are you all here?"

"They saw you carrying Coralea inside the tent. Such news has traveled throughout this entire side of the beach. They're all curious as to what happened, as am I-"

"Soldiers!" his voice boomed across the perspiring, agitated men who immediately silenced at his unveiling. "Go back to your posts! There is nothing here of your concern."

Either out of the inability to move or a dissatisfying reaction to his words, they remained. But then, when they began to rise in protest, Patroclus had to use great caution for being so close. Odysseus quickly grabbed onto a spear and threw it over the heads of the men. It soared in a flawless straight line, plunging into one of the ship's masts. "Move!" following his last command, they scattered, never looking back. "Not you Patroclus."

He stopped before following Ajax. Thinking he would see the young king angry, he avoided his eye. However, Odysseus was not angry, he still held the same temperament. Calm and focused. Even as the spear glided above the battalion, he was in control. His motives were not driven by rage.

"Walk with me. We need to talk," he wrapped his arm around him with brotherly affection.

The sound of a struggle was within though. Of exerted breathing, of objects being shattered and of bodies either colliding into those objects or into each other. Patroclus nearly came to a halt of the apparent commotion.

He moved Odysseus to the side and briefly touched the wall but was pulled back and forced into the other direction. "Come with me now. I shall explain." Both could not see in for the usual straps were replaced by a heavy piece of material. He doesn't wait for an answer, instead redirects their new path towards the shore.

.

A tangled array of black waves slammed onto the hard sand once again. Shortly following, golden locks gracefully collided on top, creating a burnt luminary undertone. They quickly divided and returned back to their keepers. Both were breathlessly opposite each other.

Until another of domination, Achilles, rammed forward.

Our two forms moved through the sand with fierce speed.

I landed above.

He expected no degree of my own quick actions following. Just as his arms were intending to flip us right, I forced him into the dirt even more with a hard push. He groaned in annoyance, not pain, but impatience while he gathered a volume of saliva. He spat the collection out. His strong legs finished the quarrel for him. We switched places. He pounded my back into the ground while hovering above with determined supremacy.

"Enough!" he launched my fists between us. "Speak!" and kept them there in restraint.

Heaving breaths, somewhat surprised and fearful glare, I remained silent. Still yet, I fought for release.

"Stop!"

"Let me go," spit splashed onto his already wet lips following.

"No, answer my question."

"I cannot tell you what I do not know!"

"How can you not know!" he let the water remain, ignorant to its presence. "A woman cannot fight as hard as you just did. You attacked us the moment you awoke! Even when you realized who we were, you continued. Drove Odysseus outside, threw every piece of pottery in here and viciously besieged me when I tried to calm you down. Powers of a divine nature are at your discretion, everything about you is an obvious fact to this! Why did you leave! Why were you in the temple?"

His weight restricted a chance to think of a reasonable way out. The efforts were becoming less and less as we tired. He exhaled, letting his head slightly drop.

"I am not the one who means you harm. Clearly, Odysseus and I will protect you from all that does. You do not believe this, I know. Neither do I, but from what's happened, I can only dig deeper to understand why Odysseus is devoted to your protection. Why it is he's drawn to you more than he ever has of a woman, moreover his wife. And why it is I cannot help but to sink into whatever plague your poison has devoured his mind with. Do not fight me!"

I did so. One last struggle under defeat.

"I've had enough! Waiting for you to trust us, your silent lies. Haunting my days and nights with constant illusions of your silhouette, your voice. Dreams of fire and blood smoldering mine until I wake with choking sweat or collapse in exhaustion."

His hand squeezed together. The pressure from above and below brought our wrist bones together, deepening the pain. I cringed, small cries somehow reflecting water ripples, left my throat. Soon realizing what he was doing, an apology crept in him but did not reach the surface. An uneasy breath, almost a sigh, came instead.

None of his bothering ailments were understandable. I knew nothing of these dreams, of haunting them. He wasn't lying. He's tormented with some sort of spell, only it did not come from me.

"All I ask is for you to open your eyes and tell me what I wish to know. If you do this, I will let you go."

"Then let me go."

He studied for deception but found nothing. It was easy to appear so when speaking came second to breathing. He slowly loosened his grip and slid his cramping hand out through our tight cave line. "Swear," he shook his finger.

Our abdomens were free to move, touching as our lungs inhaled at the same pace. Mine, however, was dramatically pumping a more magnified velocity from the release of pressure. "I swear."

"Look to me when you swear not the wall!"

He lost focus on why we were positioned like this. Granting the perfect chance, I moved my right foot between his legs, dragging in the same speed. They inched closer. As soon as I met his consumed gaze, the position was set. He raised his brow, expecting another promise when I successfully kicked, pushed, crawled and finally tore outside.

Only to be caught by Agamemnon, thrown into his guards and backed into a boulder of muscles. They came prepared and obtained one of the largest amongst the army to handle any unexpected rebellion. Achilles burst through, gracefully stopping, however, before running into us.

"Why is it you can't contain this woman for more than a few hours?"

He merely grimaced, eying the guard who held me firm.

"Nonetheless, if she's as wild as the men say then I do believe we have an even greater advantage having her on our side. However, since she has become a nuisance, Idomeneus, king of Crete, will be handling her from now on. His tent is on the other side of my ship. If there are any more issues, punishment will be given efficiently-"

"King Agamemnon!" an athletic young man skid to a stop, pointing towards the country's landscape. "Our spies have met their mission. They overheard the Trojans speak of their plans for tomorrow. King Priam has finally decided to engage in battle. After we took the beach, it seems he had a previous engagement to deal with, which is the reason why he did not take action until now. But whatever was holding Troy in a silent defense has now awoken," he wiped his long, efficient legs from the streaming sweat and brushed his tan brow.

"Finally! The old king will pay for such a delay! We were going to storm Troy before the next moon rose with or without a planned confrontation in any event. His beloved city will be taken! Ready the battalions, we shall not wait until tomorrow, this evening will mark the time of battle. He's kept us waiting long enough."

"There is one more thing my lord. The matter of Prince Hector is said to have changed."

"If this bears no concern with preparing our own men for battle then remain silent-"

"It is of our concern my King, the prince is no longer the commander of Troy's army. Word has spread of a rebellion against his father, some sort of a dispute between the two that nearly devastates the king's dynasty. The prince himself has threatened of denouncing his position as the heir to the throne, the future king of Troy-"

"There will be no city for him to reign whether he has abandoned his people or not. Who has taken his place as commander? Will he not fight?"

"We know not of the new captain. However Prince Hector will, in fact, engage in direct battle under the rank of 1st lieutenant." Agamemnon and the messenger continued exchanging details while they head back to his ship. Their voices droned into an irritated buzz of silence.

Rebelling against his father, denouncing his throne, threatening Troy's dependence on its greatest soldier, why? Doing all of this will not bring us together nor change the inevitable war nor divide him from Andromache. Their marriage cannot be undone. None of this can be undone. If the battle was to begin tonight, our arrival will be of an even greater surprise. The very eyes of Helen, Paris, Priam, Briseis and Hector will be centered on mine presence among their enormous sum of enemies.

What have I done?

The King of Crete, just now beginning to move, burnt skin as he snatched its throbbing muscles. He lifted my arm higher, like helping a child with her first steps, before drawing into his side. Then tenaciously urging obedience with a quick nod towards the direction we were to walk. Achilles stood before the path. Idomeneus stared, shaking his head at the Greek warrior.

"I do not have to tell you what I want," Achilles skimmed one of his small knives with his finger.

"Do not be foolish son of Peleus. Agamemnon has ordered this to happen, so let it. Save your anger for the battlefield-"

"I am not angry son of Idaleus, rather impatient. We were interrupted during a decisive conversation. She was going to inform me of who she is. If you grant her my watch then we shall finish-"

"Her background is of no interest to mine or Agamemnon's. Why do you place effort for this useless woman? She will be easily rid of during the war. A worthless burden. They will trample through her frail body before she can even lift a sword. You and I both have other tasks at hand-"

"You know not of this woman to assume such offenses. Any judgment made upon her is equivalent to insulting my own dexterities. I give you my word, she will be chained to my side until the last piece of information stains her very lips. Only after shall I rid of her myself. Grant me this request-"

"Cousin!"

Patroclus broke into a sprint for the final distance. Achilles remained ignorant as his energetic kindred nearly collided into him. "I know what she is! Odysseus has told me of his vision, of what he believes to be true. A dream, as vivid as this very moment, was sent to him-"

"The King will be displeased of your disobedience. However, I had no interest in attaining this position. She is your burden, do with her what you will. Though the King will be informed by your mouth, not mine, of this arrangement."

Idomeneus strode past, both holding each other in their vigilance until he joined the other soldiers who were frantically trying to find a place amongst the vast horizon of men.

"Tell Eudorus to gather the men, I need to speak with them-"

"But I must-"

"I know what Odysseus has told you. And if you believe his words than you have yet to receive my heretics in reason. Go to the men."

He tried to continue but understood for the rush of time, he would question later. All the while, Idomeneus had surprisingly succumbed to Achilles' demand and left mine to him. The aching remnant of his thick fingers left a great deal of redness. I gently rubbed the tender blemish in hopes of relieving the affliction.

Achilles watched as I did so. A stern expression of racing thoughts clouded his perception. I could see the moment Agamemnon insulted his inability to handle mine, he took the phrase to a more personal level. Though, hidden from understanding, there was something else stirring within his mind. Something unexpected that held another vexation.

"My lord, you wish to speak with us?" Eudorus and the rest of the Myrmidons stood below the small hill. Some were strapping their armor, others were sharpening their weapons for one last modification but all gave their engrossed attention on their leader.

He held an intent certainty only men of great leverage could attain. "Gentlemen, this battle will not be of our involvement. When these blind soldiers march towards Troy, we shall stay behind. If Agamemnon so strongly believes he can take this world by his own leisure and expertise then we can only respect his wishes to acquire such a goal without us. We, the strong, merciless lions, will guard the den and await the king of kings to return with his ego broken. Those men out there will perish for this man's greed, we will not. Take off your armor, put down your weapons, the Myrmidons are remaining here."

Few happily dropped their steel and began untying their armored chests. The rest were appalled by such a command, Eudorus included. "But my lord, we are to divide ourselves from the battalion?"

He waved them away in dismissal, no response given. They gave an obedient nod and dispersed just as Agamemnon reappeared with his squire dragging behind. He observed the soldiers as they kicked their weaponry to the side.

"Achilles! We are leaving and your men are behaving as if the battle is already done?"

"It is done, for us. We are taking no part in your greed."

"My greed? This is not about greed! This is about her. You go against me for taking her from your bed?"

"This has nothing to do with the girl. This is your egotistical confidence that will perish loyal lives. Do not come to a haste conclusion from what your spies have overheard. Perhaps the Trojans knew they would be listening and concealed an even greater threat than what you are prepared for. Prince Hector uses such strategies to weaken his opponents. He will overpower you in ways your swinish mind cannot grasp-"

"You appear to be defending Prince Hector, perhaps you have joined the Trojan side and have become a traitor to this regime."

"Traitor? I'm informing you of a possible defeat! You are unprepared. In numbers, you excel, but in strategy you're vulnerable. Overconfidence will cost you lives in such numbers and ultimately lose the battle!"

"You speak of numbers and strategy? I agree, this needs improvement. Troy has Hector and now, we no longer have you. We can only replace such a loss with another who possesses strategic qualities. Guards! Arm the woman and take her to my brother's chariot."

In massive proportions and intimidating features, they appeared from behind. An obvious plan, hiding behind the tent, avoiding Achilles, keeping a silent presence, preparing the armor for a swift exchange from their hands to mine. One stood in front, blocking them from view, the other began ripping away the tattered material. My attire.

I wanted to struggle, to scream in protest but to do so would mean bringing attention to a half naked form on its way. As soon as a bare back was achieved, they somehow moved us to the place they were waiting before, where no one could see.

Achilles and Agamemnon could be heard exchanging a heated conversation but the words could not travel past the loud roar of situation. This fear of exposure. I crossed mine arms, clinging to the seams. They stood, blank reactions to the falling sleeves. The one to the right, blond hair, rigged jaw and a brown stare, held a bundle of blue to its full length. Dropping from a wad of material to what appeared to be a woman's dress featured with a man's fashion of war.

"Relinquish your womanly fears. We are not going to dress you ourselves," he threw it to the ground. "King Agamemnon had it made. Do no flatter yourself, it's only for presentation. He does not expect you to use its actual purpose which regrettably is created for war. Wasteful to be made for you. Now dress before we rid your clothing completely to hasten lost time."

They grimaced at my gaping response before wheeling around, crossing their arms and oddly giving privacy. The black haired guard glanced behind. "Do it!" and faced forward.

How can the measurements adapt faultlessly to my height, body and even balance? Reaching past the kneecaps, its color an almost black hue. The blue holds such darkness yet much beauty. I find it hard to believe this is of Agamemnon's taste.

Preoccupied with the perfections, I hadn't noticed the guards faced back. Moments of observing the armor's fitting, they pulled mine forward, moved us out to the open and continued walking past the men without acknowledging any of them. They hadn't even allowed my own observation for they tilted forward before I could turn to look. However, there was movement behind us, footsteps of maybe two or three men.

Menelaus came to view in the very front line. His chariot equipped with brown majestic Shire steeds, enslaved to serve and endure the same fate as the rest. The guards joined the lines, shields and weapons now by their sides. I stood before him, the husband of Helen, whose face resembled a similar image to her description.

"Brother, I have brought you a companion. She rides with you to the front, accompanies us to the negotiation and back to the men before the battle ensues," Agamemnon pat him on the shoulder before climbing his own chariot.

Those footsteps belonged to two other men but none belonged to Achilles. Only now do I regret letting fear block out their conversation. "Woman! Either you drag behind the chariot or ride in it!"

The thunderous atmosphere of all the soldiers speaking, weapons clanging, horses neighing and wind lifting the noise even higher. His voice seemed to mark the beginning of fate.

One last desperate search for him. We may have just fought but if choosing him over this very sight would spare, I'd beg to be chained to his side and swear with all I had to speak of every detail of the temple. A war is far beyond mine abilities, small quarrels of playful means, yes but a full fledged war? There's no stamina or skills of how to even withstand the first plunge when the lines collide. What the men say is true, I can't.

I climbed onto the chariot. Menelaus took no notice. Odysseus and his horses met ours with an equivalent position. He wiped the side of his face with his shoulder before catching sight of us. He jerked upright, almost losing the reins to the horses' control. "Coralea!"

Menelaus jolted to his voice and smacked his knee into the side. "Odysseus!"

"Why is she with you? She is not to be a part of this war! I spoke to Agamemnon about this already-"

"Hold your tongue! It was not my decision. My brother finds it best we rid of her in a more honored way. I would have rather her drowned than enter battle with us. History does not need women added to it."

"Let me speak to her," his horses neighed and playfully nudged each other out of boredom.

The Spartan king rolled his eyes before shoving me into the quadriga with a splitting collision into the railing. A small cut opened from the sharp corner. Stinging even more with the wind's bite.

"Coralea, Coralea!" I bent over the railing. "Where's Achilles?"

"He's- he's not going to be in the battle. His men are not fighting. There's- I cannot survive this war, this kind of knowledge was never taught to me. Achilles, he- I should not have left him."

"I cannot hear you over the battalion! We must think of something before we meet Troy. I cannot protect you in a war!"

Waves of heat and sickness washed over mind and skin, releasing some of the tension from sweating. "Menelaus!" he shouted over the booming rally of organizing lines.

He turned to him. "What is it now Odysseus?"

"Let her ride with me! You do not want her as a burden anymore then your brother does. He gave her to you for this very reason."

"Agreed!" no more convincing. Odysseus gave the reins to a squire and brought mine down to him before Menelaus could do so himself.

So gentle, so secure. He guided onto his quadriga with such ease. "You're burning. I cannot believe Achilles let him just take you! Did he not fight? Did he do nothing?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"He can't- What?"

"You're rabid by this notion of my protection? I am not of your kin, I am not your wife, we are nothing to each other. Why are you doing this?"

"Because I must! I cannot explain to you now-"

"Then don't. If my fate is to die in battle, so be it. Do not give your life for mine."

"It is not your life to give. When we reach Troy, I will find a way to cause your leave. Do not fight me on this-"

His words were silenced by the battalion's response to Agamemnon's signal to march towards the city. They roared.

A/N

-Pŭrl: to move in ripples or with a murmuring sound -Demilůne: crescent moon

VicTory! I beat my goal, this is a 9 page monster via word right here xD

oh yes.