Chapter Title: Kings, Warrriors, and Pawns

At first, all Briseis could see was the flaming fury newly lighted in Achilles' icy eyes. She could see that even he was stunned, shocked, and caught off guard. And then, he regained control. His eyes narrowed, his jaw tightened, and his fists clenched, hovering in the air as if ready to pummel someone. Though he stared at her, she could tell that his rage was directed at someone else entirely.

Achilles' gaze jerked from her to another man whom she recognized as Agamemnon, brother of Menelaus. He was also the king of Mycenae and the currently undisputed king of kings. If Briseis had not known this, she would never have guess that this was the supreme ruler of the ruthless Greeks.

The man looked more fit to be a farmer in charge of pigs. He was not a warrior. Perhaps he could hold his sword, but it was of soft gold and sprinkled with crimson rubies that he would not want to stain with blood. He was not exactly the most pleasing face to look upon. Greedy eyes, pockmarked skin, and a coarse, grizzly beard left to grow wild.

His clothes were rich and his robes flashed bright colors like purple and cerulean, but they were too flashy. He was trying to hard to dress the part of a king and he wasn't succeeding.

Agamemnon pressed against her and his greasy hand slid over her hair. Holding her breath, she squirmed as her insides recoiled in pure disgust. She hated his touch, hated feeling that dirty skin on her. She could feel the bump of his many jeweled rings dig into her scalp. If she ever got back to Troy, the first thing she would do would be to wash her hair again and again until she could wash off the memory of him touching her.

"And what about this spoil of war?" Agamemnon asked Achilles softly. "Or did you hide her away so you could have her all to yourself?"

'This man is a fool to dare to say that to Achilles' face.'

Achilles looked past him toward the men who held her. The men loosened their grip once captured by his glare.

"If you don't let her go," Achilles warned, his voice low. "Neither of you shall see your homes again."

He was impatient. His hand flew to the hilt of his sword. "Decide."

Agamemnon's eyes gleamed with eagerness.

"Guards," he called, focusing on Achilles with almost triumph.

Immediately, Briseis knew that this battle over a slave girl was an illusion for a bigger battle. She was merely a pawn, a very useful pawn that was precious to one side, Achilles' side.

Guards rushed in, probably expecting some Trojan assassin. Instead, they found themselves facing their true leader, their own demigod whom they worshipped. Achilles. And his sword was in his hand, thirsty for more blood, uncaring whether if the enemy was Trojan or Greek.

"You would risk so much for one slave girl?" Agamemnon questioned. "Why? We all know that whores are easy to obtain and you can find plenty elsewhere."

Agamemnon leaned in toward Briseis, taking in a deep breath of her hair. Achilles watched him closely, his face as smooth as stone.

"What's so special about her?" Agamemnon wondered out loud. "I'm sure that virgins have less experience to please a man such as yourself."

Briseis' cheeks were flaming red now. They were discussing her in such a shameless way as if she were some toy! But to them, she was.

Achilles had had enough. He stepped forward, ready to thrust his sword into the first man who got in his way. Briseis had had enough as well.

"Stop!"

Even to her, her voice sounded oddly strained and foreign. But the tone had captured everyone's attention. Most importantly, it had frozen Achilles.

"Enough men have died today," she said, her breathing heavy. She spoke to Achilles and him only. "I don't want anyone dying for me."

He wasn't looking at her, but at the ground. Was he ashamed?

"If killing is your only talent," Briseis burst out. "The it is your curse as well!"

There, she had finally spilled out what she felt. Now, she waited to see what would happen to her.

Achilles did not speak, but his sword slid back in its sheath and Agamemnon watched with a hungry eyes.

"Mighty Achilles!" he roared. "A demigod silenced by a mere slave girl! What next?"

Achilles was looking at Briseis again, his eyes searching, hers avoiding. And then, he spoke, his sword once again pointed at Agamemnon's heart.

"Before this war is over," Achilles swore softly, promising. "I will look down on your corpse and laugh."

And then he left, amazingly.

He left Briseis to her fate.