Thank you all for your fabulous reviews! Really sorry this chapter is so late but the stress of exam week is finally catching him up to me...hope this makes up for it, it's a biggun!
America Liberty - Okay, this might be my all time favourite review ever. Thank you so much for taking the time and effort to write out such a detailed and lengthy appraisal, honestly I'm still in shock. And such lovely words! It really is a pleasure to write for such a fantastic audience. Thank you again, it's these kind of comments which keep me writing. Hope this chapter lives up to your expectations! :)
Picas Lei-Fur - Good God how long did that take you? Thank you, glad you enjoyed it :)
Sg551 - Ahh we shall see :) thank you
OnceAgainICantSleep - There is more than a little bit of a Fight Club reference there. And elsewhere. I can't restrain myself. As for Pamaia's perfume...bacon. Thank you so much for your lovely review, hope you enjoy the chapter!
IliadFan - And now I'm blushing. Seriously, thank you, it's a pleasure to write something people enjoy reading. But if you hate cliffhangers...I apologise for this chapter :P
Megan67 - Thank you! Hope you enjoy :)
dribblestheturtle - Oops there goes the other cheek, blushing away...thank you, so glad you enjoyed it. And may I say, your name is quite magnificent.
Betty - I actually think I've read all of them as well so that really means a lot! Thank you for your lovely review, hope this chapter lives up to it!
duhorcommonsense - That's a good point actually, I often wonder what would happen if you just cut off his head...surely it would be kind of like killing a zombie...anyway in this story Achilles' immortality is uncertain. Thetis tells him he can't die but, as you'll see, Thetis says a lot of things...Thank you for reading and reviewing :)
On with the chapter!
~twenty~
The Hall was packed with unfamiliar faces and as they walked in each one turned towards them, measuring them with cold, hostile eyes. The benches and tables had been pushed to the sides, leaving a space in the middle of the room where a man and woman sat, close together and staring straight ahead. An empty stool stood next to them. At the front a single long table had been drawn up and at it sat the jury; a row of noblemen, among them Phoenix, Cleitus and Amyntor. Beside them King Peleus was seated on his high chair, looking grave and very old. He gave no sign of acknowledgment as his son entered the room, only raised his fist to his mouth and issued a raspy, phlegm-filled cough.
Patroclus remembered with a pang his own trial in Opus, the arched ceiling of the Hall cavernous and dark as though it were ringed with stalactites, how the pillars had loomed inwards, threatening to close him in. It seemed so long ago, as if whole ages had passed between the boy who'd hunched, shivering, under his father's reproachful shadow to the boy who stood in the doorway now, yet there were the scraped back benches and accusing frowns and he realised, with a shock, how very little time had passed.
He swallowed and Achilles glanced down at him. "You okay?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
Patroclus closed his eyes and nodded, nerves crashing through his veins as the thought came to him that last time he was in a place like this a boy was banished.
The sight of Amyntor striding towards them brought him back to reality and realised he was being instructed on something. "Sorry, what was that?"
"You, over there." He jerked impatiently in the direction of the stalls where most of the palace was seated. "Sit near the front. Make sure you're ready to be called up for witness."
Patroclus' tongue felt thick and loose in his mouth. "For…for witness?" he stammered.
"What," Amyntor snarled mockingly. "Did you think someone else would clear up your mess and that would be the end of it? The jury's to decide on the weight of your testimony. Now go over there and shut up until your name's called. And you my lord prince," switching expertly to a smirking simper. "If you would follow me to your seat…"
He gestured to the stool propped a few feet away from the seated couple. Patroclus looked apologetically at Achilles, the corners of whose mouth twitched in an attempt at reassurance. "It's fine," he said. "You go over there. I'll see you afterwards."
He made to follow Amyntor but Patroclus held him back. "Achilles, wait."
Achilles turned expectantly. Patroclus licked his lips, his mind searching desperately for the right words. Don't worry. I'm here for you. It'll be okay. Somehow his lips struggled to form sentences and try as he might he could think of nothing to say.
Achilles smiled. Repeated, "It's fine." Squeezed his hand and walked away. And it was only when he dropped it that Patroclus realised he'd still been holding it.
"How touching," Amyntor jeered as Patroclus turned towards the stalls. "Perhaps they'll let you accompany him on his journey north. You can keep each other warm."
Patroclus ignored him and headed off to the stalls where his friends had saved a space for him. He sat down tentatively, eyes never moving from Achilles who was looking at his stool with contempt, as if to sit were somehow beneath him. He suppressed a chuckle, wondering how long it would be before he asked for a cushion.
"Bloody big turnout," observed Deiomachus, watching as people continued to file in through the door.
Patroclus surveyed the room and noticed for the first time how many people there really were. Most of them occupied the backbenches, intended for commoners and the ordinary people of Phthia who sat side by side, gossiping with their neighbours over baskets of eggs and cheese. "I suppose they had nothing better to do," replied Patroclus scathingly, repulsed by their titillation and their mindless, petty chatter.
"You'd have thought they'd come to watch a hanging rather than a trial," said Deiomachus.
"Let's just hope they're disappointed," Patroclus sighed.
"Hi," came a breathless voice and they turned to see Leptine squeezing her way through the rows. "Sorry I'm late, Sapphus the artist had me balancing fruit on trays for half the morning…had to slip a sedative into his inspiratory draught before I could get away…oh no, there's no room…"
"Don't worry, I saved you a seat," said Deiomachus.
"Oh," answered Leptine, taken aback. "Thank you."
"S'alright," said Deiomachus.
"That couple over there," exclaimed Patroclus. "They're Mynax's parents, right?"
As if he had heard him, the man turned his head sharply and Patroclus saw his face properly for the first time. The resemblance to his son was not immediate, for while Mynax's face had been broad and slack, Nekros' looked as if it had been snapped off. The angles of his chin and jaw jutted out sharply from beneath a greased black beard that had been twizzled and knotted at the end. Rather than making him look ridiculous, as it would have done on any other man, combined with the familiar, blue-grey eyes that gleamed like chips of ice from deep sockets, he was just about the most menacing man Patroclus had ever seen. The woman beside him was bone white. Her hair, which must once have been red, had been reduced to a washed out tawny colour. Her eyes were wide, as if she were preparing to scream.
"Nekros," said Deomachus sofly. "Now there's an evil bastard. Good job Peleus is acting judge or he'd be yelling to have Achilles drawn and quartered by now."
"Peleus is acting judge," Patroclus murmured, taking into account his high chair and the line of noblemen at his right hand. "I thought he wasn't allowed to preside over the case?"
"By convention the king judges every case," Deiomachus explained. "The jury announces the verdict and Peleus chooses the sentence. Except in this case the jury decides the verdict and the sentence, then the king will amend it as he chooses. So if the jury find him guilty and sentences him to death, Peleus can decide whether it will be by sword or axe or hanging or dismemberment-"
"-Or exile," offered Leptine.
"Or exile," Deiomachus agreed.
"So who on the jury's on our side?" asked Patroclus.
Deiomachus pointed, running along the line with his index. "Obviously Phoenix," he said. "He's Peleus' closest friend and like a second father to Achilles. Then there's Phaedrus…he's pretty fair…Cleitus and Amyntor are only out for themselves, they'll vote whichever way the wind's blowing-"
"-Especially if it's against me," Patroclus groaned.
"Malanthon's in Nekros' pocket, he buys his retainers…and there. Eumenes." Deiomachus tapped the air with his finger above the man's head. "Of all of them, he's the one you want to watch out for."
Patroclus squinted over to the end of the table where a small, thin man sat, sipping wine tentatively from a goblet as if scared it would bite him. He raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Trust me," nodded Deiomachus. "He's been chief secretary here for Gods know how long. Knows all the rules and conventions like they were written on his palm. Hyper intelligent, hard as a brick of baked shite. Seriously, he can't bend over for the stick up his arse. But if you win him, you can pretty much dance out of here, naked, throwing candlesticks at children."
"That's an odd image," frowned Leptine.
"It is an odd image," Deiomachus agreed.
"But how am I supposed to do that?" wondered Patroclus aloud. Deiomachus' reply was cut short by the sound of the doors slamming closed and the last of the crowd trickled in, a hush falling over the room.
"Achilles Peleides, son of silver-footed Thetis, prince of Phthia: realm of the Northern Kingdoms," announced Peleus, his voice ringing across the hall like an echo. "You stand trial for the murder of Mynax Nekroitides. Do you swear before the Gods and your king that your statement will be true and without falsehood?"
Achilles made the sign of reverence before Dika, the goddess of justice. Peleus looked satisfied. Surely he was aware, as they all were, of Achilles' flawless reputation for honesty.
"You will state your version of events," Peleus ordered him.
Achilles nodded and stood up. Patroclus craned his neck to get a better look at his expression. He did not look scared or nervous, only defiant; his lip already beginning to curl with curbed insolence. Oh dear Gods, Patroclus found himself praying. Please let him keep his temper. Please, please, please let him keep his temper, please…
"It was the morning after my birthday celebrations," he began. "I woke up with a headache. I thought a walk would help clear it so I went to the wood. As I approached I heard a disturbance, I came closer and I saw Mynax attacking Patroc…Menoitides. He had him on the ground on his back and his hands were clasped around his neck. I saw Menoitides trying to fight back but he was weakening by the second. By the time I was close enough to act he was near death. I stepped in and pushed Mynax away. There was a struggle and then he was dead."
"How did he die?"
"I killed him."
Shocked whispers reverberated through the audience in waves. Achilles' face was deadpan and sullen. His statement had been completely devoid of emotion. "He could sound more apologetic," Leptine whispered.
"Achilles doesn't really do apologetic," Patroclus whispered back.
"Do you believe it was Nekroitides' intention to kill Menoitides?" asked Peleus.
"I do, sir."
"Do you have any reason to believe that was his intention, aside from the events from that morning?"
"Yes sir," nodded Achilles. "The night before…at the celebrations…Menoitides and I prevented Mynax from taking a girl by force. I believe Mynax blamed Menoitides for the humiliation."
"Do we have the girl here?" Peleus turned to the jury.
"We do my lord, however she is but a slave," Amyntor answered. "Her testimony does not count in a civil court."
"Ah," sighed Peleus regretfully. "Pity. Very well, you may sit."
Achilles sat down, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. As soon as he did so the chair beside him scraped back and Mynax's father stood up.
"To the floor, Nekros, son of Theleon, father of the deceased," he announced in a voice as silky smooth as the rich, crimson tunic he wore under a cloak of black furs. "Permission to address the accused."
"Granted," Peleus gestured for him to continue.
Nekros inclined his head graciously and turned so that he was face to face with Achilles. Patroclus could see the intense hatred in his eyes even as he smiled courteously, showing white teeth.
"A tremendous stroke of luck," he said, twisting the knot at the end of his beard around his finger. "That you should have been there at precisely the right time to save your friend. Uncanny, one might say. The odds that you appeared just when Menoitides' life was slipping away….A remarkable coincidence. Tell me, why did you choose the wood that morning? I can think of more cheerful places to rid oneself of a hangover."
Achilles gave him a black look. "Because I like the wood."
"Interesting," replied Nekros. "And you just happened to arrive at the exact same spot as Mynax and Menoitides?"
Achilles hesitated. Eumenes, who had been scribbling something down on a piece of linen, looked up, blinking like an owl. "I didn't know they were there," he said at last.
The jury looked meaningfully at each other. Nekros raised an eyebrow. "You sound unsure," he said. "You are telling us you had no knowledge whatsoever of either Menoitides' or Myax's whereabouts?"
"I didn't know they were there," Achilles repeated. "But I guess I had, like, a feeling or something, I don't know, that Patroclus was in trouble."
Nekros' other eyebrow shot up. "You mean a vision?"
"No," said Achilles impatiently. "Not a vision. More like…intuition, or something."
As soon as he said it, Patroclus felt his insides sink. Leptine's head had dropped into her hands. Deiomachus was cringing. "'Intuition or something,'" Nekros repeated, letting the ludicrousness of the statement sink in. "So, conveniently, while on your way to the wood a sudden spurt of 'intuition' made you aware that your friend was in danger and convinced you that this is where you needed to be. Correct?"
"Yes," replied Achilles, scowling.
"And when you got there," Nekros continued. "And found Mynax where your, forgive me, 'intuition' told you he would be, you broke his neck in one movement, is that correct?"
"Yes."
"And was that before or after you broke up the fight?"
Achilles frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Did you walk up to Mynax while he was still strangling Patroclus and break his neck from behind or did you pull him off first?"
Again, Achilles hesitated. Patroclus, understanding the trap in the question, held his breath and hoped Achilles had too. "I pulled him off first," he said finally.
Beside him, Leptine groaned. "So you broke up the fight," Nekros spoke slowly. "Pulled Mynax away from Menoitides and then killed him."
Shit shit shit shit shit shit, Patroclus thought frantically. Come on Achilles. Tell them he attacked you. Tell them you fought. But either Achilles didn't recognise the significance of the detail or simply couldn't bring himself to be untruthful. "Yes," he said, dully.
At once the noise of the hall rose to its high ceiling as a clamour rang out. Peleus rose his palm and the room fell silent once again. Nekros turned back to Achilles, white teeth glinting like a dog who had scented a deer. "Very brave of you," he crooned softly. "To risk your life for some exiled outcast foster-son. But then you are close aren't you, Menoitides and yourself?"
Achilles' eyes narrowed as Peleus leaned forward in his chair, frowning curiously. Patroclus felt his blood run cold. "I don't see how that has anything to do with it," said Achilles stubbornly.
"Just trying to get a grasp on the nature of the relationship between those concerned in the case," Nekros shrugged airily.
"Well the nature of the relationship is none of your fucking business so you can go and grasp something else."
"Quiet," cried Peleus as the crowd began to roar its appreciation. He glared at Achilles with a rheumy eye. "And one would remind the accused to watch his tongue if he wants to see light outside this trial."
"No more questions my lord," stated Nekros with a polite little bow and he returned to his seat.
"Very well," asserted Peleus. "If Menoitides could come to the floor."
With shaking legs Patroclus stood up. At once all eyes in the room shifted towards him. He swallowed, hard, took a deep breath and approached the floor. He dared not look at Achilles, only stared straight ahead, avoiding Peleus' stern, steady inspection.
"Patroclus," he said gently. "If you will tell us of what happened, starting from the festivities."
Patroclus took another shaky breath. Sweat prickled his palms and he dug his nails into the soft flesh. He could feel Achilles watching him, could almost hear his controlled, nervous breathing. Next to him Nekros watched too, a thick strand of beard circling his index finger.
"Uh well it was quite late in the evening," he began, desperately hoping he didn't sound as nervous as he felt. "Everyone was watching Pamaia dance and I started looking round Leptine-"
"-The slave girl?" one of the jurymen, Phaedrus, interrupted.
"Yeah," replied Patroclus. "But I couldn't find her so I guessed she'd gone to the storeroom. So I headed over there and I found Mynax on…" he struggled to form the words as the unpleasant memories washed back into his head. "On top of her…trying to force himself on her…I tried to fight him but he was too strong so I yelled for help, Achilles heard and ordered Mynax to release her. He obeyed, but reluctantly. The next day I was in the wood looking for kitchen supplies, I was just heading back when Mynax jumped me from behind. He pushed me down, and then he…" he gulped, thinking of the heavy weight of Mynax's knees on his chest, the hot stink of stale breath. "Tried to kill me," he finished, somewhat lamely.
He snuck a look at the jury. They all had their heads down, conferring with each other. Suddenly Malanthon raised his hand. "This girl," he inquired. "Did you feel you had some possession over her that Mynax did not have?"
"What?" said Patroclus, disgusted. "No, I don't have…possession over her-"
"-Then why did you object to his handling her?"
"Because…because she's my friend," Patroclus answered in disbelief.
Malanthon raised an eyebrow. "You expect us to believe your interests and relationship with a slave girl are entirely non-sexual?"
"Clearly he is shy," quipped Nekros slyly and the courtroom tittered.
Phoinix raised his hand. "Was the party the first time you and Mynax came into conflict?"
"No sir," Patroclus shook his head, hoping to Zeus his cheeks weren't as red as they felt. "A few weeks ago we fought during drill training. I bested him and he swore revenge. He swore he would kill me."
There was uproar as the audience began clapping or heckling his words, some people even taking to their feet to shout across the hall. Peleus silenced them impatiently but even he looked perturbed as Nekros stood up once again.
"Come now Patroclus," he purred, and Patroclus felt a shiver run down his spine. "Let us not be modest. Word has it you are quite the combatant, is that not so?"
He paused expectantly, waiting for a reply. Unsure, Patroclus looked around the sea of faces for inspiration. None offered him any. "I'm ok at wrestling," he said hesitantly.
"More than ok as I hear it," Nekros continued. "Top of the class. Five times group champion. Bested Mynax more than once, if your good drill master speaks the truth," here he inclined his head at Ampelius who nodded uncertainly. "Indeed, it is surprising that you were unable to hold your own against one you had formerly defeated."
"Like he said," Achilles rounded furiously. "He attacked him from behind."
"My question was directed at the son of Menoeitius, not Peleus thank you, my prince," Nekros snarled. "Still, you're not exactly the helpless innocent you're made out to be, are you Patroclus? It's certainly clear you can handle yourself in a fight. Look at you. Those are not the arms and shoulders of a weakling. And besides," here he grinned showing unusually pointed canines and his eyes gleamed with maniacal menace. "It's not as if your history is…shall we say…spotless."
"OBJECTION!" Achilles yelled, leaping to his feet. "The indicter has no right bringing up past events with no direct relevance to the case!"
"The court is advised to use whatever evidence is available to create a rounded view of the accused," Nekros argued.
"BUT HE'S NOT THE ACCUSED!" Achilles screamed, stamping his foot against the ground like a tiny child. "I'M THE ACCUSED! YOU'RE USING HIS HISTORY AGAINST HIM! THAT'S EXPLOITATION AND…AND MISUSE OF EVIDENCE AND-"
"-SILENCE," Peleus roared. "Achilles, sit down and be quiet! Nekros, explain yourself. What do you mean by referring to the witness as the accused?"
"I mean, my lord, that the events that have transpired are quite clear," Nekros pronounced, eyes burning with fury and loathing. "It seems obvious to me that your so called 'witness' is as much involved with my son's murder as that boy sitting there. Mynax and Menoitides quarrelled over some harlot Menoitides had his eye on. Hell-bent on vengeance and seeking to establish himself, Menoitides appealed to Achilles and together the two connived to teach him a lesson. So Patroclus led Mynax into the wood and there he was ambushed by the two of them. Convenient, yes? No other witnesses. Which allows them to make up this cock-and-bull story about my son having some deep-seated, personal vendetta against this…this nobody," he fixed Patroclus with a look of disgust. "When none of you have any knowledge or evidence of Mynax being anything other than gentle and amiable. Which is more than anyone can say for a disowned exile convicted of homicide and a spoilt little sociopath with more looks than sanity."
The reaction was immediate. Within a second three quarters of the courtroom were on their feet, roaring their appreciation or shouting protests at Nekros who stood smugly before them, his black furs bristling like the wings of some hideous bird. Achilles was screaming profanities at the top of his lungs, his fists flashing as he struggled against the restraint of two guards, issuing a terrible stream of oaths and blasphemies. But Patroclus could barely hear him above the pandemonium and the chaos and it was only when Ampelius' titanic lungs bellowed for silence that Peleus' voice could be heard ringing across the Hall.
"Enough," he was saying. "Clearly the accused is in no fit state to stand trial at this point. We shall have a short break and meet back here at midday. Guards, escort Prince Achilles to confinement for holding until then."
The guards made to take hold of Achilles by the arm but he shook them off abruptly and followed them out the Hall without a backwards glance. As soon as he was gone the audience began to thin; Patroclus stood up and Deiomachus and Leptine followed.
"Well," said Leptine conversationally as they wove their way through the crowd. "That could have gone better."
Patroclus didn't answer. He was still shaking with nerves and he didn't trust himself to speak. Eventually he mumbled something about needing fresh air and the three made their way outside onto the field where they were met by a group of the other boys who had apparently waited to offer Patroclus encouragement and reassurance.
"Wow," Calisthenes shook his head in amazement. "That Nekros is bloody terrifying. If I were you Patroclus, I'd keep on his good side."
Patroclus gave him a dark look. "Thanks mate."
"Someone needs to have a talk with Achilles," noted Leonides. "If he carries on like this he'll have earned himself a one way ticket to Hades."
"It's true Patroclus," Leptine affirmed seriously. "He's not doing himself any favours. And his case is weak as it is."
"What?" Patroclus exclaimed aghast. "You can't be telling me that the jury swallowed that bullshit Nekros is serving?"
"If you mean his theory that you and Achilles were in cahoots and arranged the whole thing then no, I don't think they did," she said matter-of-factly. "Even with his skills of persuasion it sounded very far-fetched. But the fact that Achilles killed Mynax after he stopped him from killing you seriously undermines his claim that he was acting defensively. It makes it look like he did it in a fit of rage."
Unbidden and unwanted, Achilles' words crept back into his conscience from where they had been pushed down into the dark corners of his mind: I wanted to skin him alive for touching you. "Of course," Leptine continued. "It certainly doesn't help that you 'quarrelled over some harlot'. And your past conviction really isn't working in your favour."
"Yeah you probably shouldn't have done that," Deiomachus affirmed. "For future reference."
"Well what am I supposed to do then?" Patroclus demanded. "Tell me, how do I fix this?"
The boys looked blankly at each other. Even Leptine was at a loss. "Right," said Patroclus, getting to his feet. "I have to go talk to Achilles."
Peleus, reluctant to have his son and heir treated like a common criminal, had ordered for Achilles to be held in one of the guestrooms rather than in the palace dungeons. Even so, it took a good ten minutes of sweet-talking the guards into letting him pass and he was aware of them watching him suspiciously as he approached their charge.
He was lying across a couch with his eyes closed, one arm thrown dramatically across his face so that he looked like the tortured occupant of an oil painting. As Patroclus approached he opened one eye, then shut it again, looking theatrically pained.
"What the fuck was that?" Patroclus rounded on him.
"What was what?" asked Achilles sulkily.
"This," answered Patroclus, throwing his arms around in imitation of Achilles' tantrum. "And the yelling. And the screaming. And the calling Nekros a fat whore."
"He insulted me," Achilles snapped. "And I'm very sensitive about my mental stability. But what about you and your past conviction of homicide, huh? What did you have to go and do that for?"
"Oh I'm sorry," Patroclus retorted sarcastically. "Next time I decide to randomly murder someone I'll make sure to notify you first. Do you realise what position you've put yourself in? You're on trial for murder for Gods' sake. Show some bloody restraint!"
"I'm trying!" Achilles snapped. "But that man, he makes my fucking blood boil. Did you hear him? A remarkable coincidence…oh forgive me, your intuition…He thinks because he shits gold he can buy justice. Like his wealth makes us somehow better than the rest of us. And no one else will stand up to him because they're scared he'll ride in with his private army. It's pathetic. It makes me sick."
"Yes it's unfair," Patroclus countered. "Yes the system is immoral and unjust and corrupt but it's still the system, Achilles, and you can't fight it your whole life or it's just going to get you killed."
"Watch me," replied Achilles stubbornly. "Anyway, I probably won't die. Father will get it into his head that it's more merciful to let me live and send me away."
Patroclus stared at him. "And how is that not more merciful?"
"I don't know," Achilles shrugged. "It's a bit boring, isn't it? Like, who will remember me if I'm just banished? A noble execution would be far more dramatic. The country will be talking about it for decades."
He said it so casually, so matter-of-factly that Patroclus realised he was completely serious. Unable to believe his ears, he found himself staring in astonishment as he struggled to comprehend what Achilles had just said. "Are you insane?" he sputtered. "This is not a joke! This is your DEATH we're talking about! There is nothing 'noble' about it, you'll be dead and that will be it and no amount of country gossip will bring you back-"
"-Well forgive me for trying to consider things in a positive light!" Achilles cried. "But in case it hasn't occurred to you I don't actually want to die and Elysium sounds even more boring than banishment and I've never killed a wolf before, not a big one anyway, and father won't even look at me and it's so unfair because everyone thinks I'm a murderer and a coward and it's only because no one except us and the other boys knows what a bastard Mynax was, and no one believes that I knew you were in trouble but I did and now they all think I'm a liar or crazy-"
"-Wait stop," Patroclus, who had mastered the art of tuning out Achilles' rants and had been nodding inattentively, yanked himself back to earth. "Say that again."
"I can't explain it, I just had a feeling you needed help, like a sixth sense or something…mother says it's because she's part dolphin but I don't-"
"-No not that," said Patroclus impatiently. "The other thing. About Mynax."
"Oh," Achilles frowned. "That no one except us and the other boys know what Mynax was really like. But a lot of good that will do us, I heard his mother telling the jury he was a fucking angel and as for his father-"
"-I've got to go," Patroclus interrupted him, mind-racing, and before Achilles could stop him he was sprinting out the room.
The others were still sat outside waiting for him, Leptine and Deiomachus apparently deeply involved in animated discussion but they broke off as soon as Patroclus slowed to a halt in front of them. "What's the matter?" asked Leptine concernedly. "Is everything okay?"
"Everything's fine," Patroclus assured her. "I have an idea."