A/N: As I said in the past authors notes I don't care if you hate myself or my writing just review. However this can only go so far, if you wish to flame or even mini-flame make a legitimate point. It is completely futile to say (as an example) that the story is going the direction of incest when I made it VERY clear that Hector and Briseis were not cousins. That was today's rant, thank you for all of my other readers who aren't wasting my time. Now onto the next chapter, enjoy.
Chapter Seven – Going to War"Cousin?" A young man's voice carried on the light breeze. Achilles looked up from his meal to see his younger cousin, Patroclus, coming towards him. He embraced the warrior with astonishing strength.
"You've grown since I saw you last." Achilles said warmly and Patroclus smiled. "Come eat." He motioned to a canopied table and sat down, never taking his eyes off of his guest.
When a serving girl came to offer the younger man food he shook his head and blushed. Achilles laughed at his cousin's plight. "Thank you Benaya, You may return to my estate." The girl bowed, turned and walked back to the nearby villa quickly, no doubt about to tell the other servants about her master's newest visitor.
"She's pretty isn't she?" Patroclus looked away after the comment. "I'm just playing with you." Achilles said as he laughed and leaned back in his chair.
"Very funny. But I haven't come here to make a fool of myself. Have you heard the news? That the Spartan queen has been abducted?"
He sighed. "I have and I don't care. The woes of Agamemnon and his brother do not interest me; they have vast armies and great warriors. What need do they have for me? I know the great 'King of Kings' would rather leave me back in Greece."
"The Greeks wish to fight the Trojans, the myrmidons wish it, and…"
"You wish it as well cousin?" His eyes bore into those of his kin. "War is not all honour and valour. In fact little of it is, those respects belong to Kings, not mere soldiers. I know you Patroclus, you will not like war half as much as you think." Achilles ran a hand through his mane of light hair.
"I can fight cousin, you may not think it but I am ready." His eyes were downcast but there was a fire the elder warrior recognised as that in his own eyes when he was denied a chance at war. He stood and wandered over to a column, never taking his eyes off of Patroclus.
"You will get the war you so dearly wish for soon enough cousin." The fire was immediately replaced by excitement. "If I choose to go to Troy you may accompany me." He smiled wryly. And it looks like I have another visitor."
He pointed to the path leading to the canopy and the assortment of men in the matching Ithacan colours riding towards the cousins.
"Odysseus." He muttered quietly and returned to his seat as the youth tensed in his chair. "Today you will meet a King."
"Briseis with the incoming Greek forces we may have to take…certain precautions." Hector sounded awkward while he spoke to his friend. Paris was leaning against a wall to her left and the noble herself was sitting in a large wooden chair. "Precautions that may affect you directly in some ways and indirectly in others. Do you understand what I am trying to say? That the war will take away make privileges you would usually have."
She gasped mockingly. "You mean no more bathing naked in the ocean." She saw the looks of amazement and laughed. "I'm kidding you, none of us ever bathed in the ocean…while you were around." She laughed again at the surprised faces.
"This also throws in the fact that you are a beautiful woman." Paris picked up the lecture.
Briseis arched her eyebrow in his direction. "Thank you for the admiration, a bit ill placed but appreciated none the less."
"Thank isn't what I meant." The younger prince began to pace the room. "In the event that the Greeks should find you outside these walls – for whatever reason – they will not kill you." Her body stayed relaxed as he finished the sentence. "I'm a man Briseis."
"Really? And you never told us after all of these years?" She mocked, Hector laughed loudly and Paris glared at him.
"What I meant was I know how men, especially men who possibly haven't seen a woman in months, nevertheless one as beautiful as you, would see you."
"The compliments never end around here do they?" Briseis asked rhetorically.
"Briseis! The point is, if you are captured you must protect yourself as well as possible." He picked up a dagger from the nearby table and pulled it from its sheath. "I assume you already know how to use it?" She nodded, suddenly growing tense. He handed it to her.
"Only use it if you must." Hector spoke hoarsely. "If anyone knows about this…people will not be pleased. Briseis you must keep this weapon a secret."
She smiled at them both. "I never had any problem with secrets before, why would I start now?"
Paris sighed. "Good, Hector father will want you to inspect the troops now and I need to practice. We can walk down to the barracks together." Hector nodded mutely, his mind obviously occupied with other thoughts.
They walked out of the room, leaving Briseis alone in the room. Andromanche or Pramadas would be coming to look for her soon to tell he about something happening in the palace that needed her attentions but for now she sat staring at the weapon in he grasp.
The metal felt foreign in her hand. It was cold and hard and unforgiving but the warrior's daughter in her saw it as beautiful. Both hilt and blade were of equal weight, a feat hard accomplished in daggers of any kind. She ran the blade sideways along her fingers so it would not cut her the way her father had taught her all those years ago.
'Do you wish me to have been a son?' She had asked. 'Do you wish I could have fought in wars and fathered children and served in court?' Her father looked into space for a long time after she had questioned him. 'Well? Do you?'
He had looked her straight into her blue eyes with his. 'Briseis there is nothing I would change about you. I have many sons and, hopefully, many more to come. I have no need for another warrior, another man who will die for his country. If you feel you should change you should not be my daughter at all. I cannot change you. Your mother, your brothers, your friends, your husband may all try and alter you but if you ever think about it for just one moment, any moment in your entire life, you are no longer yourself.'
'But who am I?' She had asked angrily. 'Who should I be?'
'Who are you? You are the daughter of a warrior, Briseis, you are the sister of warriors and, someday, you will be the wife of a warrior. That is who you are, I know it seems harsh to think that war is in your blood but it is. Someday you will think of war not simply as men dying but as a last resort, or in some cases the first resort. There are cruel men in the world who live for war and I would love to be able to shelter you from them forever but I can't. Cruelties are just another thing in life you will have to learn to deal with. It seems like a lot but I know someday you'll make me proud.'
Her father had been right, she had seen cruel men live and more noble men die but they was no way to change the way the fates spun their lives. What could she do to bring them back?
"Briseis?" Melanon's head appeared in the doorway. She hid the knife behind her back. "What are you doing in here? You were supposed to be teaching Hentayol and Cartanye about literatures." Briseis groaned inwardly, her two younger brothers didn't care about literature, they were horrible students. She was sure she had been a better pupil than her brothers. "What are you doing in here anyways?" He leaned against the doorway.
"Paris and Hector were talking to me."
"They aren't here now."
"I know they left, I was thinking." Melanon entered the room and sat on one of the chairs.
"What about?" He cocked his head, looking at his sister.
"Father." She looked into her brothers eyes, hoping he couldn't recognise the look she gave him as unhappiness.
"Good. It's comforting to know I'm not the only one." He dropped his shoulders and laughed. "Even when he isn't here I feel he's judging me. Like I still have to walk in his shadow even though he isn't here."
"He loved you, he loved all of us." Briseis reassured.
"He loved you the most though. You know that? You learned to read first, you were the fastest learner, you could ride better than any of us, and you still can. The only thing you couldn't do was fight. Not that you didn't try." He laughed again. "You tried to make him teach you so much. You had a way with words, even when you were young; I was almost ready to teach you when you were trying to persuade him." They both laughed. "Remember when he caught Pramadas and I giving wine to Cariaxis when he was six winter old. And you told him that we couldn't find any other drink and Cariaxis was going to die if we didn't give him something."
"Or that time when Hector came to the villa and you all had had too much to drink and started to do impressions of the high priests and he didn't let you eat for a week."
They both laughed and then went silent remembering their father, who, despite the frequent punishments, loved them more than he loved life itself. Melanon embraced his sister unexpectedly. "Briseis, you know what happens if Pramadas and I don't survive the war?" She stayed silent. "You have to take care of the others. You have to be strong Briseis," He reached into his tunic and pulled out a piece of simple jewellery. "We had something made for you." She looked at the gift with wonder. It was a silver bracelet with their family's emblem engraved into it.
"It's beautiful." She whispered quietly.
"It's so that you never forget any of us. Dying in this war or another, never fail to remember who your family is or how they died."
"How could I ever forget you?" She looked at her brother kindly. "Well I should be teaching our brothers." She started to head out the door but he caught her wrist.
"No leave them; I think they'll survive without one lesson." They both laughed. "Get some sleep, we'll speak tomorrow." He kissed her forehead chastely and walked off towards his quarters.
She watched him wander into the hallways of the palace. "Hopefully I'll never have to remember you, dear brother."
"Achilles? Does this mean we are going to war?" Patroclus had a hard time containing his joy.
Achilles laughed and turned towards his cousin. "Yes, we are going to Troy to fight for Greece." The King of Ithaca had practically begged the warlord to battle for the Grecian cause.
"I cannot wait to tell everyone. When are the Myrmidons coming? When to we sail? How long will the war last? Cousin?" The youth looked ecstatic about leaving. He and the young boy were different in that way, the warlord thought, leaning against a column watching his cousin.
"Why all of the questions? We aren't leaving this moment. We have to gather our things, alert the men; war isn't all glory and honour. I've told you that before." The Ithacan's were specks in the distance now, disappearing over the darkening horizon.
"Yes, but think, in a thousand years people will remember our names cousin. Is that not awe-inspiring?"
"You are young Patroclus, and naive to think people will care you we were." The youth shook his head.
"No they will remember us, cousin. Our names will live forever,"
"Forever? If I didn't know better I'd say you've had too much wine." He smiled at his kin; he was toying with the boy but it was still amusing. "We have time to think about the war, have you been practicing like I told you to?"
The boy's expression went from ecstasy to exasperation in an instant. "Yes, cousin."
"Well we'll see anyways," he picked up the two wooden swords that had been resting on the column and tossed one to Patroclus. As they began to spar Achilles realised that his cousin had been practicing. "What are the rules a good warrior keeps in mind?"
The youth sighed and parried an attack from the warlord. "Never give him the upper hand, never have other thoughts on your mind, never fight for an unworthy cause and…" He struggled with the last rule.
"…never underestimate your opponent or else you automatically give them an advantage you do not want them to have."
"Why do I have to practise so much Achilles? I am bored with the same thing. Every time I come up here we always spar."
"You wish to relax inside my palace?" The youth nodded sheepishly. "Then lead on."
Patroclus stayed in Achilles company for the days before they departed for Troy. Never had he seen such hurriedness, the myrmidons appeared gradually in groups of four or five at a time. They embraced the Phtian King like brothers. They night before they left for the docks a feast was held at the palace, most all of the men were drunk before the night was over. Patroclus was not one of them.
Nor did he participate in the whoring that went on after the celebration was complete. A number of the men gave him questioning looks as he departed for the night but Achilles paid him little attention.
"I'm not your caregiver, I am your cousin. You can take care of yourself, can't you?" True the words had stung when they came from the warlord mouth but Patroclus had thought about them and realised he was right, that his cousin only wanted him never to depend on any other.
Or that's at least what he hoped Achilles had meant.
The festivities continued all night, so long that the youth was afraid that they might miss the departure of the ships but as he watched the shores of Greece disappear off the horizon he suddenly realised that there was a good chance he would never see them again.
A/N: I am so sorry that I haven't updated but I was on my break at school and I went to my dad's house mid-way while writing the chapter and had to wait until I went back to my mom's before I could finish. I know it sounds like an excuse (and truth be told it is) but that is really what happened.